Chapter 2, Confrontation

Adrian walked through the park mindlessly, Arthur had gone to go home a few minutes before, so he was alone with his pondering.

'Something happened,' he thought to himself, 'It's not possible that everyone who ever knew Arthur would just up and start treating him like, well. Like shit. It's not how normal people act, and with the way Gilbert and Lovino were talking to him, it couldn't be a rumor spread'.

It had made absolutely no sense, people, nor teenagers don't just up and start hating a particular person. Things like that have reason, so what the fuck could happen that made everyone hate-

"Oi, eyebrows two!" interrupted an annoying French voice. Adrian rolled his eyes at the new nickname he'd been given. 'Talk about annoying, and unimaginative, is that really the best nickname he can think of?' he thought, starting to go to a steady jog.

"Hey dude, we just want to talk!"

He snorted, talk his ass. That tone always said, 'Yes, we need to talk, but I also need to beat the shit out of you too'.

"Talk to my dust American asshole," he said, breaking into a sprint. He heard the sounds of feet pounding on the cement, then the American voice, Alfred was it? Said something that made him almost laugh,

"I ran two years in track, you're not going to out run me".

Of course he never intended to out run the bastard, one glance and he knew that this ass was athletic. The way he easily went up all in that Braginsky's face earlier during school made it far to obvious, and you can't really go up in that guy's face without knowing you can and have a way to deal with him.

"How do you know," he said, "that out running you was my fucking intention dumb ass?!"

He used the extra bust of adrenaline to go a bit faster then the American, then he went to the biggest oak tree he could find. Quickly using the momentum he gained from sprinting, he hopped on the bark and boosted himself to the nearest tree branch. Utilizing the adrenaline once again, he quickly climbed to about five stories high on the very tall tree. Which was about, nine stories high.

Laughing, he peered down at the open-mouthed (to which he officially declared on the 'absolute jerks' list) bastards below.

"Learn that in track and field assholes!" he yelled laughing manically.

"You can't stay there forever da?" said a distinguishable Russian accented voice.

"Maybe," he said, still laughing, "But I don't have a curfew, or parents in the area remember?"

He finally calmed down and said, "So you can stay here all you like, but i'm getting down when it's time for school".

He had spent enough time sleeping in tree branches to know how to get comfortable in one.

"We can always cut the tree down".

He snorted, "Genius, but damage to public property, we're in a damn fucking park remember?"

"We can climb up".

"Five stories high on nothing but flimsy branches? I don't think so buddy, good luck getting up here without an adrenaline rush. Not to mention the weight you guys are gonna have to force on the poor said branches".

"Ladder?"

"Suspicious to carry around that tall of a ladder, is it not?"

"We can get you in the morning".

"And I can always jump tree to tree, it's not that far to get to the school from here. We're only about two quarters of a mile from the school dumb asses," he stated a matter-of-factly.

"We can-"

"Stop with the bullshit alright?" he finally said, sighing, "There's no way for you to get me while i'm up here capiche?"

"Fine," the American voice, Alfred, grumbled. 'I really need to stop naming them by their nationalities, it's racist,' he thought, nose scrunching up a bit at the thought.

He heard several foot steps go back, and he sighed. Facing his new, and most hated archenemy. Boredom.

"I should have never finished all my homework," he grumbled frustrated. He looked to the sunset that he was able to see due to how high he was.

"But then again," he breathed, "maybe it was a good idea after all".

He continued to stare at the sunset until the moon came shining after it, as the light pollution in this town was rather small, the stars were bright in the dark navy blue sky.

Smiling, Adrian began to remember what it was like in the open sea. Yes he had hitched a ride to get here, but he failed to mention that the boat was sort of like a giant orphanage, it's why he was able to get here without having to go back in the first place. That was beside the point though. He remembered the open sea breezes, the space he had, the freedom he had without worrying he might get caught-

He shook his head to stop there, not thinking about it is what got him out of that trouble in the first place. Thinking about it now would halt all that progress, it would make him make mistakes. He can't afford to make mistakes now.

Adrian sighed again, "All this thinking is going to bite me in the ass someday. I'm over thinking everything. But first,".

He looked up again smiling, "I'll help Arthur. Then, i'll run again".

In silence, he began thinking of ways to help Arthur until, much to his irritation, a voice from bellow interrupted his train of thought. Or rather, train of thoughts.

"Oi! Get off me!"

Adrian blinked as he heard a distinguishable scottish accent yell from bellow. 'What on earth?' he thought, 'No one should be in the park at this hour, it's like freaking go home and don't bother me with work time'.

He stooped his way down through the branches (as he was fairly light, unlike the people from before) to find a red haired, green eyed, bushy browed, scotsman being mugged.

"Well you don't see that everyday," he mumbled to himself, because he knew from experience that Scotsmen can usually hold their own in a fight, and from the size of the one before him, he can very well fight his way out of a rather poor excuse for a mugging.

He sighed and jumped to the nearest tree that was close to both himself, and the person being mugged by two middle aged hobos. Who were illuminated by the post light. As he was right behind the target, he decided that he didn't have the energy to beat the crap out of the hobos, so he just decided to just do what he does when he's too lazy to actually help. Since it appeared the the Scot looked to drunk to properly defend himself.

Make some really freaky noises.

"OUT LET ME OUT!" he suddenly screamed, though not enough to wake the neighborhood, just enough to scare the people in front of him.

"THEIR IN MY HEAD. IN MY HEAD. YES. IN MY HEAD. GET THEM OUT. OUT. OUT. OUT!"

He then decided to take this further for the heck of it and put black ashes under and around his eyes, and messed up his hair for more effect. The deciding factor, ketchup. On his white hooded jacket, and around his mouth. As he was looking for more Jeff the killer look.

He stole the ketchup from the cafeteria, and the ashes from an old fireplace of a house. The jacket was part of his cold season wares, and he wasn't too upset that he had to dirty it. He still had a lot of quarters saved up for the laundry.

He smiled, widened his eyes, and pulled out a large kitchen knife (kept for situations like this, under his pants, held by his waist band, and sheathed).

"Time for the show," he purred, to himself of course.

He jumped down, manically laughing and trying (but missing purposely) the hobos.

"Get them out. Yes I will. Kill you I will. Make you sleep. Yes. Yes. Yes," he said, laughing like a madman. Which is what he was trying to be, the throw back laugh added to it's affect.

They screamed and took off running, leaving a trail (He inwardly recoiled at this) of liquid body waste (pee). Adrian then took the chance to look at the scotsman, who was certainly older (and taller, much to his distaste) than himself.

He tilted his head at him, "What name might you have, normal red person?"

The man looked a bit puzzled (As he decided to continue playing the insane one for shits and giggles) then he looked as if the gears in his head were turning.

"Allistor," the man said, "My name is Allistor".

He observed Allistor in silence, the man had fire red hair, which parted from the middle in a widow's peak, his hair stopped just at the nape of the neck. He also had a more acidic green eyes (in his point of view, as he view himself as having a more forest green, while Arthur had emerald) with rather bushy eyebrows to accompany it. He wore a blue, white crossed, long sleeved shirt. (He assumed that it was for the Scottish flag) As well as pretty worn out blue jeans, and dark brown combat boots.

His nose scrunched out at the scent of smoke and alcohol. Then he spotted the bottle of Jack Daniels, and a scrunched up pack of cigarettes.

"Been killing things inside you, have you?" he asked, and he secretly thanked watching Star Wars because Yoda speak was helping the insane image.

"Killin' things?" Allistor asked curiously, as he was buzzed, and not yet completely drunk of his ass.

"Alcohol," he motioned toward the bottle, "poison, it is. Killing things inside you that need to be killed, are you?"

It took a few minutes to sort out what he had said in the Scotsman's buzzed haze, but he got it eventually. As he snorted in response,

"Aye, ye can say that".

Adrian shrugged in response, a bit, he had kept his distance to avoid the smell that would eventually make him wretch. Since the first group of foster parents were alcoholics, let's just say he despised the smell and taste.

"Don't like the smell do ya?" Allistor said chuckling.

Adrian shook his head and said, "Fake parents always drank poison they did. Always. Didn't help kill bad things, it did not. Instead, made them show, it did".

Allistor nodded his head in understanding, as a thing like that was certainly a good cause to hate alcohol.

"Do need to kill, what is it?" he asked.

"Ah, I've been trying to get drunk enough so that I can avoid getting mad at me youngest brother".

"Do this, why are you?"

"He's sort of the cause for our parent's death, a man came here and said that 'e was cursed. A little after tha' they died in a car accident, going to his piano recital".

Adrian wrinkled his nose in response, then smacked Allistor in the back of the other's head.

"Dumb you are. Dumb wait not. Fucking ass stupid, yes. More like. Does not exist, curses," he said, huffing through his nose.

"Oi, i'm not the only one who was convinced, everyone in his school was too, and so is me other brothers!" said Allistor, trying to defend himself. Which was a poor attempt at it.

"All of you stupid," he growled after that, "For all you fucking know, that might cause your brother to snap. Not good that is, not good".

"Oh? And what do you bloody mean by snap?"

"Self kill. Suicide. Ass butts," he muttered glaring at him.

"...Oh...bloody fucking hell, I didn't realize..."

"See him eating, have you?" Adrian asked, making sure who ever the idiot's brother hasn't died via starvation, or dehydration, for that matter.

"Ah, no. He doesn't come down from his room, or do we see him out the door. We usually yell at 'im when we see 'im or we're too drunk to care," he muttered.

Adrian huffed again angrily, and this time he stood and kicked Allistor in the crotch. Hearing a satisfying (to him) thunk*, and a yell of pain from the Scotsman, he glared angrily at the close to whimpering (Na, he was totally whimpering) injured man.

"Bloody fuck! What the 'ell was tha' for?"

"Dumb ass you are, the lot of you," he said simply. Then for good measure, he did a Levi* style kick to the Scot's face. It wasn't enough to draw blood, but it was sure as hell enough to do some serious bruising to the face, and a black eye in the mean time.

"Could of died already he might, starvation. Dehydration. Depression. You and your brothers, stupid," he stated, frown decreasing as he spotted the spark of realization flash in his eyes.

"Oh bloody fuck-" all of a sudden Allistor mustered up enough energy to jump up (ignoring the bruise that will most likely form in his crotch area, eye, and face) and take off running toward his house.

"THANKS!" he yelled back to Adrian, despite injuries.

Adrian in turn nodded in satisfaction and muttered to himself, "I wonder if that guy will stop and realize his ass was totally kicked by a 16 year old".

"HOLY SHIT, MY ASS WAS KICKED BY A 16 YEAR OLD".

He blinked as he heard the response to his muttering, then shook his head smiling lightly.

"Ask and you will be answered," he said. He took out a handkerchief and started wiping his face and his sweater, cleaning to his satisfaction. (which was the spots of where he put the ketchup turning pink)

"Well, back up the tree for me," he said to himself, turning to find the said tree. Walking around he found the tree and slowly made his way up, and thank goodness for the hiking shoes he was wearing. Cause that made the entire trip up so much easier than climbing on regular shoes.

Once there, he relaxed onto the sturdiest branch on what he dubbed the 9th floor. One foot hanging out the tree, and hands folded behind his head.

"Still, I kind of have to admit," he said, shutting his eyes, "Who ever is his younger brother, is pretty lucky. Yes, who ever is said younger brother is pretty lucky; off course those brothers might not be the brightest colors in the crayon box, but still".

Those were the last words he spoke as he fell asleep on the branch, ready for the next day of 'school'.

Half way across town, Arthur once again climbed the window to his bed room. If the drunken stumbles of his brothers were any sound to go by, it was obvious that wasn't going to go through the normal way. Either way, it would have been pointless. He barricaded the door with his dresser a long time ago.

Getting through the window, he climbed in and sighed in relief.

"Well bloody hell, it should be easy to do climbing in P.E. now. Bloody convenient that we're starting that now," he said to no one in particular.

As time went on, he got used to talking to himself whenever he was in his own room. At some point he scared himself when he started talking to someone who was apparently named 'Oliver'. He never did know whether he developed a multiple personality* or whether it was just a moment of madness. He had blinked at himself at the thought, because it sounded like something coming from an old poem or something.

He sighed and jumped on the bed, back first, and already changed. Good thing he had finished his homework with Adrian, Gilbert, and Lovino. Cause all he wanted to do was sleep.

BANG! CRASH!

He jolted up from the bed at the sound of the loud crash. Jumping off the bed, in panic that one or more of his brothers might be injured, or worse. The later was a bit something he did not want to think about. Yes his brothers were, a bit, (he was being nice) assholes. Still, they were his brothers. If it was acceptable that brothers were, bastards, jerks, and a bunch of drunken men. Not all the time, but he wasn't there whenever he was sober, so it's hard to tell. Plus the fact that back then, when he was there to witness his oh so delightfully sober brothers. Twas not pleasant.

Quickly shoving the drawer from the door, he ripped open the door and bounded down the stairs in haste.

"What the bloody fucking hell happened-" he faltered at the sight before him.

"Ah bunny!"

"Bloody fucking hell," he stated, confused as hell too. Because A, Sean, the oldest, and overall strongest of the brothers is currently under Allistor. Dylan, on the other hand was trying hard to prevent the two brothers from killing each other, which was without a doubt a clumsy attempt. As he was stumbling drunkly as he did so.

Being at the blunt end of the attacks, he does know how deal with all three of them. Which is an advantage in this situation, as he is going to go into full rage mother mode.

"YOU BLOODY FUCKING IDIOTS! YOU REALIZE YOU COULD'VE HURT YOURSELVES! ALLISTOR KIRKLAND RELEASE SEAN IMMEDIATELY, DYLAN STOP YOUR GOING TO SMASH THE VASE AND GET YOURSELF HURT!"

And so were the wincing of the three brothers, because bloody hell. Arthur had taken after mother more than all three of the brothers combined. In more ways than one, because he has the hair, the eyes, the looks, and attitude to boot.

Using the experience and strength gained, complements of Kirkland brother training, he separated the two of the eldest Kirkland brothers, and gave them a look. That one look that makes you freeze where you are, which caused a sort of deer in headlights reaction.

"Alright you two, stop fighting. What the hell is going on?" he asked, raising an eye brow; as they hadn't exactly started to yell at him yet. Which was out of character on it's own, sadly enough.

"Bunny good, your alive!" Allistor exclaimed, much to the others puzzlement.

"Of course Artie is alive brother, why would you think any different?" asked Dylan.

"Aye," said Sean, who was hanging by Arthur's hand that was gripping the elder by the collar, since he was too drunk with beer to stand on his own feet. He must have drank a lot, thought Arthur, Cause it does take a water tanks fill of alcohol to get Sean this drunk off his arse.

From there, he observed both Allistor's, and Dylan's hands; which were of course, occupied by bottles of said alcohol.

He shook his head at Allistor, who was about to say something.

"I believe whatever your going to say, can wait till tomorrow, when I get back from school. Now, off to bed, all of ye gits," he said, leaving no room for argument.

Dragging all three brothers with him, after removing and putting away the several bottles of alcohol, he got them all to bed, and began the art of making the famous Kirkland concussion for hang overs. For the following day of course, as he can't expect the living room to be as tidy as it is now if the three brothers are left alone with a killer hang over, and nothing to soothe it, and he also made sure to close the blinds both in the living room and their respective rooms. The only thing he dreads now is the poor toilet on the 2nd floor, which is sure to endure some disgusting monstrosities. Which he'll have to clean later. Good thing he used the first floor bathroom for it's morning uses.

"Oh what a house wife life I live," he said amused as he wrapped up the mugs filled with the concussion, each mug having it's respective owners name painted on it. Courtesy of a project he did when it was christmas, but he never knew if they actually used them. As he never left his name on the 'from' part, to make sure they wouldn't throw it away at the time.

Putting it away, he sighed and leaned on the counter. Thinking about where Adrian might be.

"We met at midnight in a park, he obviously doesn't a home. So where the hell could that clever bastard be," he muttered to himself, because he would also be lying if he didn't admit the little clever sarcastic shit was sort of a genius.

From the way he was always acting (and yes, he noticed) weary of every person and thing he comes across. The closed fists as he was walking, as it is said by phycologist that if a person walks open palmed that person is more trusting. Or was it trust worthy? He didn't remember at the moment nor did he care. He didn't know if the reasons were because of his orphan past, or something else, but the behavior was still odd. Especially if the guy acted like he was enemy territory, he could have sworn he saw Adrian drawing a map of the school and it's exits back in Social Studies. That isn't any normal paranoia, or any other kind of mental illness that he knew off.

"Something is going on with him, and something is equally wrong," he muttered to himself once again. Mind traveling to other possibilities of what could've happened to cause the habits.

He shook his head, "It shouldn't be any of my business".

He walked toward the halls and into his room, stopping by the door, "Despite this, I need to find out what happened. He is technically, my first friend after all".

Alfred ran a hand through his hair, looking at a picture of him and Arthur when they were younger. Along with Francis, Matthew (contrary to popular belief he did remember and see him from time to time), Gilbert and Ludwig. As the four of them were really good friends, back when they were in Elementary. Before the...incident.

"Al?" said Matthew, as Alfred had never full on looked at the picture for quite some time.

He laughed obnoxiously and shook his head, "I'm fine Mat, I'm just fine".

"Hey, you remember when Artie and Francis used to play with us when we were little?" asked Alfred.

"Of course, why?" said Matthew, sitting down next to him on the couch. As their parents were still working, and wouldn't be home till 11. By then they should already been asleep. It would have been no problem back then, as both Francis and Arthur used to come over to make sure they were alright.

"I'm just wondering what happened, we used to spend so much time together well Francis still does but Arthur," he frowned, "Now he hangs out with Lovino, Gilbert, and that Adrian guy".

"He did spend some time with Lovino and Gilbert before Alfred," said Matthew.

"Yeah, but he used to avoid us like hell before Adrian came along," said Alfred, a bit sad about the the avoiding part, but jealous of the other part.

"Well to be honest Adrian is the first to really hang out and talk with him normally after the incident with the man, I'd say the guy kind of does deserve to be the one person that Arthur trusts, and it was sort of all our faults for doing what we did," Matthew said, much to Alfred's dislike.

"Yeah...maybe, I still don't really like the guy. Don't get me wrong, he's sort of hot like Arthur. But that's really, really weird".

Matthew laughed and shrugged, "Yeah, I guess you're right".

"Antonio!" yelled Francis.

"Si? Francis, what is wrong?" asked Antonio, who was about to crash on the couch Francis was in. However, Francis had grabbed hold of some wine, and had drank the entire bottle. Five of them, as a matter of fact.

"That -hiccup- Adrian bastard had mon lapin wrapped around his evil finger!" yelled Francis.

"Eh? Well...I don't think he's that bad, but Lovi doesn't seem to mind him. Even though-"

"THAT IS NOT ZHE POINT!"

Antonio sighed, "You are worried that Arthur will be so involved with Adrian he won't noticed the rest of us, si?"

Francis blinked at him,"You know Antonio, your smart...whenever your not obliviousssssss". Francis started to slur his words.

Antonio chuckled in response, "Mi amigo, it is understandable that you don't want Arturo to ignore you for him. However, we must get to know Adrian first. As you said they are cousins, so what is there to be worried about".

Francis snorted, which was much out of character, "Verrrrrry oobbbssseeerrrrvant," then he wiggled his eyebrows, "You have to admit zhat Adrian happens to verry hhooott, almost as seexxyy as mon Lapin, eh mon ami?"

Antonio chuckled and his eyes darkened a bit, "I am well aware mi amigo, which is also why I am planning to also go after both".

"Being a bit daring eh Toni? I doubt Lovino will let you get five feet near Lapin. He is quite jealous of your history non? Honhonhon".

"Gained your wits have you? Well, Lovino isn't going to stop me from getting both mi amigo".

Despite Francis' drunkenness, he understood. There was now two, but Arthur's heart was still the first priority. Despite new developments.

"Luddy!" yelled Gilbert from the couch.

"Ja, bruder?" asked Ludwig, coming into the living room from the kitchen and watching his brother play with his pet bird, Gilbird.

"Vhat do you think about Adrian?"

Ludwig shrugged in response to the question as it was pretty odd, all things considered, "I suppose he's okay, I haven't exactly met zhe man personally".

"He's pretty awesome, not as awesome as me of course, but he's like Art in away," stated Gilbert.

"By 'Art' you mean Arthur, at least say zhe full name bruder".

"Ja, Ja, but. Lud, it's kind of vierd".

Ludwig sighed in response, "Vhat 'vierd'?"

"He reminds me of Vater when he came home from the military zhat day".

"Looking at everyone carefully und eyeing every exit, entrance, and anyone vith a potential veapon?" asked Ludwig.

"Ja," said Gilbert looking at Ludwig, "Have you noticed?"

"Ja, I have, I vonder why. He couldn't have gone through zhe military could he? I mean, there's an age limit, he couldn't be more zhen 16 years old".

"I don't know Lud, I don't know".

The two Germans (Or Prussian) frowned in thought, thinking on what it could mean for the new student.

In the Vargas house, Lovino and Feliciano were eating, what else, pasta. For dinner of course.

"Eh, fratello," said Feliciano, who was done with his pasta.

"What is it?" said Lovino, who seemed to be in a less cursing mood.

"How is, eh, Arturo?" he asked.

"Fine".

"Vee~ And this Adrian fellow?"

"Pretty nice, why?" asked Lovino.

This conversation was pretty creepy, because Lovino was talking without curses, and insults. That alone is reason enough to revaluate the state Lovino was in. Which Feliciano quickly noticed,

"Eh, just wondering, vee~".

"Tch, idiota," said Lovino, and that was more the Lovino everyone knows. Which had set Feliciano at ease, for the moment.

"Are they close?"

Lovino looked at his brother with a raised eye brow, "And why the fuck do you want to know?"

"Eh, don't act so innocent fratello; I know the real reason you decided to make up with Arturo right away".

"And why the fuck is there something wrong? The eyebrow bastard is pretty nice, tomato bastard doesn't really like him, and it turns out, he's a good cook," huffed Lovino.

"No fratello, big brother Antonio still likes him".

"Shit".

"But, the only reason why you went up to Arthur again is because you were suspicious of Adrian vee~," stated Feliciano, as he was not as idiotic as he seemed. He also had to keep an eye on the rivals after all.

"Tch, the bastardo is like Nonno when he came back from Italy. Paranoid as fuck," stated Lovino.

"I noticed vee~".

Lovino clicked his tongue in response as he was going to have to bargain for his brother's silence, and he didn't want other bastards to know what he knew, "I'll tell you what I find out as long as you don't tell tomato bastard or the rest of the other bastards shit".

"Deal, vee~," Feliciano said, a hint of a smirk hidden on his face. He wasn't exactly going to give up his lead on the matter either.

Back at the tree where Adrian was peacefully sleeping, he woke up all of a sudden and went on a sneezing fit. Six times, which was odd on it's own. Have you ever seen a person sneezed six times straight without the aid of pepper, allergies, or other stuff that causes sneezing?

He sniffed, recovering from the sneezing fit, "Were people talking about me?"

He stayed quiet for a second contemplating the chances of people talking about him. To which he responded by laughing (or cackling depending on where you hear it) and shook his head when he was done,

"I am getting way to paranoid for my own good," then he thought about it for a good long 10 minutes before he slept, "Or maybe I'm just getting a lot more attention then I'm willing to like. They do say, in Asia, when you sneeze, someone's talking about you, and frankly, I don't care wether it's positive or negative. It's fucking scary as shit".

Then he continued to sleep once again, deciding to pass it off as something in the air.

A/n: Herro again, I have thy second chapter, I know it's been long but forgive me as my internet was cut off for a time. Also, there is a poll in which you can choose the pairing so yeah, please check that out or PM what you choose. But as you can see, I managed to snag some WIE PIE lol. Made that my self, copy right. Na, you guys can all use it, it's not like I'm there to slap you on the wrist anyway. Haha jkjk. Anyway, it may take a little longer to chapter three because I'm going to go out of town for a week, (not sure when) So yeah. Please review, fav, and follow if you haven't done so. (But seriously, reviews would help tons on my story because that stuff is like my plot fuel) And shout out to Tick, cause she's been supporting me since 'The Twin Kirkland Brothers', and Random Toria. You two have been keeping me sane this summer (Because I'm a freaking recluse when i'm not forced to attend school and socialize lol) So yeah, thank you for reading this and good day/night. (-whispers- hope you can find a nicer fanfic to read after this thing)

Disclaimer: The languages used bellow (or above, depending on where your looking), or may not be accurate as I simply got what I remembered from reading a ton of fanfics. Also, I do not own Hetalia or it's characters, as that is owed by it's well respected owner. I do however own Adrian, and this story plot/line/whateverthiscanbecalled.

*I did this to a guy once, (he was annoying and kept ruffling my hair) except I didn't just kicked him, I also punched him in the crotch. When I did, there was a loud thunk and all of a sudden the guy was on the ground groaning...and I was just laughing manically. Yeah, i'm kind of sadistic that way.

*I've been watching Attack On Titan...a lot. So yeah, I also went ahead and watched dubbed and subbed versions. So yeah, Levi style kick.

*Also did this once, walking during free time P.E. I started talking to myself and responding without noticing. People who didn't know me personally stayed away for days.

Translations

(Italian)

Nonno = Grandpa (Rome)

Bastardo = Bastard

Fratello = Brother

Idiota = Idiot

(French)

Mon Lapin = My rabbit

mon ami = my friend

Non = No

(Spanish)

Mi amigo = my friend

Si = yes

Arturo = Arthur (Also for Italian)

(German)

Ja = yes/yeah

Bruder = Brother

IF YOU REVIEWED AS GUEST IN CHAPTER 1, PLEASE READ THIS:

I unfortunately cannot do that (I agree, it is rather hot) as it collides with what I am planning with the story. Also, I did give a job for Matthew/Canada he's vice treasurer. I also couldn't help it, because I would feel guilty if I didn't include Canada.