A/N; Bon Soir! Okay just to answer some comments. One, she is NOT me. She may have my name, but the personally is different. I'm much mature in front of adults than her. I would NEVER wiggle my brows at an adult. And no one is falling in love with her, unless you want that to happen. I'll put up a poll on my profile if you want Country x OC or Country x Country. After one month I'll put up pairings, so yah. Also, that last chapter was written a month ago but I was having problems posting. If you're having problems posting for Hetalia Axis Powers or other topics, go to edit and replace story_edit_property withstory_edit_content. I got to finish this up 'cause I have ballroom dancing lessons in twenty minutes. I'm doing Merengue tonight. As a last thing, I was seeing comments and story traffic. OMG. You guys make me happy like Italy with a lifetime supply of pasta! Over twenty comments! You guys are Awesome like Prussia! And the fact that people from Canada, Russia, Italy and Germany reading this fanfic is mind blowing. So just for you guys, I say thank you in all of your languages. Thank you! Merci! Gracias! Danke! Cảm ơn bạn! Salamat sa iyo! Grazie! Спасибо! Dziękuję! Tack! Kiitos! Wow that was long. Proves how diverse we really are. Enjoy! Translations at the bottom.
Disclaimer: Aww, crap. I was reviewing my chapters and I saw that I forgot to say that I don't own Hetalia or Loft 67. I wish i didn't have to say it 'cause I die a little inside when I do.
He had enough of this. He simply couldn't take it anymore. The enraged Austrian stomped – polity he would add – down the hallway of the hotel. He was going to settle this once and for all. Behind him trailed his previous spouse, slapping her infamous frying pan against the palm of her hand. Normally he would have been frightened by this act, but as of now, his anger was in control. The hotel room he was looking for came into view and he began 'stomping' towards it. It was room 437, of course a Manhattan Suite; he expected no less of France. This time he didn't knock, he burst through the door.
"I just knew you vould be here dummkopf!" he calmly yelled at Prussia who was sitting in a swivel chair with a finger directed at the culprit. In fact, he wasn't lying. He had seen the albino run after Antonio and Francis just to escape a beating from his ex-wife. "I've had enough of you molesting me like you have done so many other-"
His sentence slowed and eventually stopped as his eyes drifted to the brunette who was standing near the bed, fixing her clothes. She started to switch her vision back and forth between him and Prussia continuously until she caught him staring.
Prussia turned around in his seat and raised only a brow. But not even two seconds after, the ex-nation jumped from the chair with a horrified look on his face and hid behind Spain who was trying to figure out the situation.
"You have a human schlave!" he hollered.
He couldn't believe this. He knew all three nations did take a certain 'pleasure' in…. those things – but he would have ever thought them to be so low to turn to a prostitute! He was not going to take this. He was going to teach this young girl how to be a proper lady!
He walked - stomped, really - up to the girl and grabbed her wrist. "Germany vhill hear about zhis! For now she vhill stay vith me."
Austria stormed out of the room, girl in hand. Her fingers were trying to shove her wrist out of his hand's grasp, but it didn't work. "Come on, let go of me! What's your problem?"
He could hear Hungary's shoes tapping down the hallway after them. "Mr. Austria! Please, think this through! Maybe it's just a misunderstanding!"
Julie looked to Hungary, then back to Austria. "Yeah, what she said! It's a misunderstanding! S'il vous plaît, let go of me!"
They neared the end of the hall, and got to the elevator but his grip didn't die. Austria pressed a button and sternly announced to the girl; "Young lady. Zhis is not the vay to make a living! You shall become a proper child!"
She gave him a confused look. What way wasn't the right way to live life? Being lax? Ok, so maybe she was a tad bit late to most things, but live and let live, right?
"What- what the hell are you talking about! What you mean proper child! I'm fourteen! I don't even know you!"
Austria tsk-ed and pulled her into the elevator, Hungary by his side. "Young vumen do not curse, much less yell." Julie looked at him with anger. "I can do what ever the hell I want, you're not my mother!" she cried while he tightened his hold on her hand.
The elevator came to a stop and Roderich dragged her out with Hungary still close by. The girl continued to protest, much to Austria's dismay. "Let go of me! Help!"
"Do not make a shcene." He hissed, noticing that some lobby staff were being to stare. He made it outside and called for a taxi. All three got in, tension thick like the fog in England after it rains. Austria gave a card to the driver and soon they were off. Julie just pouted the whole way, looking out of a window. She didn't need to take this crap!
Hungary snuck a look at the two grouches. Was the girl really a prostitute? She had said that she was only fourteen. Was it possible to become a prostitute at such an age now a days? She leaned over to the girl and whispered in her ear; "It's okay, Mr. Austria isn't mean. He's just a bit strict."
Julie looked up at her with in surprise. Mr. Austria? So did that mean….there were other countries that have been personified? "Wait, so you guys are-"
The taxi came to a halt and both Hungary and the girl were forced to get out. Roderich gave the cab driver some money and got out as well. "Zhis is vhere I stay vhen I am in New York."
Julie looked around and immediately recognized the area as the Upper East Side. All the buildings seemed to be different than most you'd find in Manhattan. They had a more artistic touch to them while maintaining their classic Yankee origin.
They headed for a building with the numbers '67' on the front. The building itself wasn't anything flashy but the inside was nothing to sneeze about. A very modern décor was chosen as the main theme for the apartment building. All three took to the fourth floor and stopped before a white regal door. Austria pulled out a pair of keys and opened the door. Julie's mouth dropped when she saw where she was going to be staying (against her will). It was absolutely lovely. Spacious and Victorian but new aged all at the same time.
Roderich showed the girl in and introduced his abode. "Zhis is vhere you vill be staying for zhe meanvhile. Your room shall be directly on zhe left." He continued to talk and explain the rules of his home. "No cooking, I do not vant you in my kitchen. Do not touch zhe piano, if you do, you shall be punished. I have a meeting in less than a vheek. I shall bring you und one of my collogues vhill deal with you."
Austria whisked away to begin preparing his speech, leaving Hungary to take care of the girl. "Come on," she chimed, "let's see if we can't find you some nice clothes to wear."
She led Julie to the bedroom on the left and sat her down on the lavender pigmented sheets of the small bed. Hungary opened a small closet and began rummaging through it. Soon enough she pulled out a white dress with blue flowers on it.
"Well, come on, undress. We're both girls, nothing to be embarrassed about sweetie." She said with a sweet smile. So that's just what the girl did. She pulled off her black tank top, tugged off her jeans, and flung her boots against a wall. Hungary began to dress her before she noticed something peculiar. The girl had scars all over her back and legs. Not just one or two small ones like most children have, at least fifteen in every place. Some more faded then others but still there.
"Sweetie why do you have scars all-" she started but Julie spun around and hid her body.
"It's nothing."
"Really, because-"
"It's nothing!"
Hungary stared at the girl. Why was she so worked up over scars? "Sweetie, are you really a prostitute?"
The child started and then gave her a look. "Wha-what? No, never. I'm a regular New Yorker."
Elizabeta nodded. There was no way this girl could be a prostitute. But that still doesn't explain the scars. "Then why do you have scars all-"
"I don't want to talk about it, ok?"
Hungary sighed. "Ok, but we have to dress you."
Julie slowly walked back over to the other women and waited while she was dressed. She had never really been dressed by anyone like this so it was a bit weird, but in a way she liked it. Just the fact of it made her feel like royalty.
Hungary finished and dusted the girl's dress off. It was sleeveless and had a big blue bow as a sash. She gave he girl a pair of frilly ankle-high socks and waited for the child to finish. Julie stood up and spun around just for show. Elizabeta clapped and announced; "Well, now that we're done, after we brush your hair and tie it back correctly, it will be time to present yourself to Mr. Edelstein."
What a minute. Not ten minutes ago had she said Mr. Austria! So which one was it – Mr. Austria or Mr. Edelstein? She had to leave that question for later as Hungary whisked her out of the room, and into the bathroom right next to it. She sat Julie down on a stool and began to brush her hair. How long has it been since someone brushed her hair – seven, eight years? She couldn't even remember the last time her mother brushed her hair. Living in New York meant almost never having time for others, especially with an only parent.
Elizabeta set the brush down, tied the kid's hair back loosly and pulled Julie up. She then brought her past some pantry closets, in and out of a short hallway, by the foyer and the kitchen into the music room.
Just outside the mahogany doors Julie could hear a soft tune playing. Strangely, it sounded like a piano. Hungary opened the doors and let the child into the large room with a single piano. There, sitting in deep concentration on the bench, was none other than Austria. He was in the middle of playing a beautiful piece; The Skater's Waltz. All finger dancing across the keys not missing one note as thought they were dancing to the melody.
Julie ran pass a now slightly flustered Hungary up to Austria.
"Mr. Edelstein?"
Roderich looked up and came out of his trance. He slowly stood up and twirled his finger in the shape of a circle. The girl spun around for show making the edges of the dress fly slightly. Austria nodded in approval.
"Isn't zhat better? Now v'e must teach you manners."
Julie gaped. "Mr. Edelstein. I already know how to set a table and how to speak politely. I already know how to dance several European and Latin dances and how to eat properly!"
Austria pondered in confusion. "Zhen vy do you insist on being a prostitute? Especially to zhose three good-for-nothings?"
Tears began to well at the corners of the girls' eyes. "I'm not a prostitute!" she cried, "I am not! I'm currently staying with Alfred F. Jones and Arthur Kirkland!"
Small tears began to run down her flushed face and Hungary ran up with a handkerchief to dab her wet cheeks. Austria got flustered when Hungary gave him a small death stare.
Arthur and Alfred, hmm? ...Wait, this girl knows of the countries personifications! That is highly confidential!
He patted the girls' head and made his way out of the piano room and to the living room. Germany will hear of this too.
MWH
England paced the foyer nervously with his arms clasped behind him as America followed with his gaze. Alfred hadn't eaten a single burger in a few hours and England was starting to worry for America as was America for he. Alfred finally stood up and grabbed Arthur by his wrist.
"Iggy, stop it. We have Japan helping us and we both know he has many connections. France is not getting away with this. She'll be fine."
England looked up at America with a face contorted in anxiety. He wasn't so sure. "I don't want her to be hurt because of me. She was very sweet to me when most are not. She's polite and considerate. I don't want that frog to taint her with his sick ways."
Alfred squeezed Arthur's arm a bit harder and his brows crinkled together. "She will be fine. Japan has Germany on his side, and we all know how scared of Germany France is." He faked a smile; "She'll be back before you know it."
Arthur sighed shakily. "I do hope so, for her sake."
LTR
Japan was sitting quietly on the porch looking out into the rock garden .He had to go about this carefully. France was a tricky one and could be vicious when he wanted to be. This would take planning and possibly an accomplice. He slowly rose to his feet and walked into the traditional Japanese house with his dog flowing close by. Kiku knew just the person to call – Germany. He had originally planed to call his long time friend but only if necessary. He didn't want to trouble Doitsu-san but you had to admit, he was a force to be reckoned with and everyone knew how afraid France was of Germany. He would tell Germany the details over the phone and then meet up with the said nation. Japan dialed the to the German country's house.
"Hallo, Deutschland zu sprechen."
"こんにちはドイツ。私はあなたの頼みもいいですか？"
Translations;
[Dummkopf] Stupid Head
[Hallo, Deutschland zu sprechen.] Hello, Germany speaking.
こんにちはドイツ。私はあなたの頼みもいいですか ? [Hello, Germany. May I ask a favor of you?]
Wow, I kinda like this chapter. Not many translations = not much copying and pasting. Please review or England shall leave you scones.