Woot! Second installment!

A note about the title: First, there's the very visible similarity to "101 Dalmatians." Which is where I got the idea in the first place, to reflect the sheer number of countries stuck in that house. Then it's the word "damnation," which sums up the horrors they go through having to live together. And, finally, a recap of the two things together, "101 Damn Nations." I actually hadn't noticed that third one until I'd typed out the title. XD

Updates: Due to the very insightful observation of Artemis Queen of the Stars, I am changing some of the characters' ages. Chile and Ecuador are getting booted up several years to 22 and 21, respectively. Bolivia is 17, Argentina is 19, and Peru is being Peter Pan. Since we're on the subject of ages, I'll describe a little how I determine them. It's not only how long the nation's been around that helps me decide, but also the Human Development Index, i.e. how well off the country is in terms of the economy and life expectancy and things like that. The country's potential to develop further (resources, development trend etc.) is also considered, and finally there's the Surprise Element of my own impressions on the country (mostly random and based on name). So that's why some of them will seem like anachronisms, e.g. Argentina being older than Peru when the Viceroyalty of Peru was established first.

"Right," said Germany, when the countries eventually settled down again. "Now that that's through, let's discuss housing."

"Just a minute, kraut," England piped up, "who died and made you the king? You have no right to order the rest of us around!"

"I second that," said Austria, scowling.

Germany glared at them. "And just what were you two doing before?"

The two went quiet as they remembered:

"You lot, shut up! I can't hear my piano over your infernal yelling!"

"Flying Mint Bunny! Let's play Hide and Seek! Whee~~~"

Germany crossed his arms. "Exactly."

"Um, If—I—could—sort of—interrupt here, please…" Canada began, but no one seemed to notice.

UAE looked at him. "Who are you?" said the Emirati. Then, "Who am I?"

Canada sighed. "I'm Canada, and you're the United Arab Emirates," he explained.

"Really? I feel more like China or India, though."

"Well, still," England continued, "it's unfair to everyone else to let one person be in charge. I say you delegate some of this authority."

"Agreed~!" France purred, sidling up to the German. "As top-notch nations with bustling economies and long, rich histories, I suggest we, ah, guide our comrades along the path to well-being. Of course, it's a task that no one man can do alone, so, dear Allemagne, if you would kindly allow us to—"

"Weren't you the one streaking naked through the halls?"

"Uh! W-well, th-that has nothing to do with the matter at hand! U-um—"

Germany sighed. "Fine, whatever. But no fooling around during important discussions!"

France grinned. "I knew you were an easily manipulated—oops, I mean, reasonable man!"

Germany glowered at him. "We'll decide on leadership later," he said. "Right now, let's have everyone settle in. I had Italy compile a list of countries, which was probably a bad idea but I won't go into that right now. For now we'll organize you by continent, because certain nations get culture shock and collapse of epilepsy all the time." He looked at Japan, who turned away guiltily. "Oh yeah, and until things settle down a bit, we'll be keeping tabs on you, to make sure everyone's here. Switzerland will be assigning you each a roommate."

"This really makes me consider canceling my neutrality," the nation grumbled as he skimmed the paper Italy had procured. "Italy, your handwriting sucks. Let's see… Liechtenstein, Switzerland. Done. The rest I'll just match up randomly…"

"Lovi…" Spain moaned. "Lovi, I'm so sorry, I thought we'd get to choose but then Germany decided to be mean…" He was standing with his head against the wall, as though praying, or talking to some unseen person on the other side. "Lovi, I miss you already… Just my luck, to be stuck with…" He hiccoughed.

"What's wrong, Spain?" Russia looked at the Spaniard with concern. "Is your back bothering you? Shall I massage it, da?"

Spain shuddered. "I-I'm fine, thanks…"

...

"Brotherrrrrrrrr!" shrieked Belarus. "Brother, how are we going to get married now?" She glared at her reluctant roommate. "Curses! This is all your fault! You and that damn Spain, keeping me from my beloved brother! I'll kill you both!"

Sweden shrugged and continued unpacking. How unlucky he was to get landed with this psychotic bitch. Oh well, at least Fin was safe.

...

"Cheesecake!" cried Finland. "U-um, I mean hi! I'm Finland!" He stuck his hand out. The scowling nation in front of him scrutinized it, then grudgingly shook hands with him. "I hope we can get along!" Finland added, with a small bow.

"Mm," said Albania. "Nice to meet you." He brought out a food container from his suitcase. "Baklava?"

"Oh! Thanks!"

"Nikola made it for me. He's a good cook, isn't he?"

"Yes, he's terrific!"

...

"Uwa! This is wonderful!" chirped Croatia as he launched himself onto his bed. "We're so fortunate, Herzé! Way to slip that stuck-up Swiss snob some quiche! I can finally rest easy knowing my roommate's not going to asphyxiate me in my sleep!"

Herzegovina grinned. "Same here, Nik!" She sat down beside him. "I feel kinda bad for Elizabeta though. When we're allowed to switch roommates we should help her find someone better."

"Agreed!"

...

Hungary could not believe Switzerland had actually been so mean as to put her with France. Didn't that stupid Swiss know about that wine-loving nation's bisexual tendencies? But then again, she had her frying pan with her, and she at least could protect herself. Cheer up, she told herself. I saved a poor hapless nation from rooming with this freak. Smiling to herself, she went to check out the bathroom and screamed when France jumped out of the closet with no clothes on. Not even the rose between his legs. "What the heck, Francis! Stop scaring me like that! And put something on, your leg-stubble is hideous!"

"But Elizabeta, I'm mourning for poor Gilbert! I can't put my clothes back on until I stop mourning! And I can't believe you're denouncing my beautiful sleek legs!"

"I don't care! Your legs are horrendously ugly next to Roderich's or Gilbert's! Wait, what happened to Gilbert?"

...

"This is awesome," Prussia said softly. "I get a nice view from the window. Kesesesese!" He turned around to face the room. Instantly Norway jumped into action.

"Keep your hands off my brother," he growled, standing protectively in front of Iceland.

"Norway, what are you doing?" Iceland wailed. "Why did you steal my licorice? And where's Mr. Puffin?"

"Don't let your guard down even for a second, Emil. Goodness knows what unspeakable horrors he will do to you."

"What's wrong with you? Why are you acting this way? Oh God, I'm so embarrassed!" Iceland buried his face in his hands.

Norway sighed. "Emil, I'm just looking out for you…"

"I don't want you to! Prussia's not going to molest me or something so go away! Don't you have your own creepy roommate to deal with?"

...

"Huh," said Greece. "I… guess… he's not here… yet." He dropped his suitcases and went to sleep.

Ecuador and Chile sat next to each other, arms crossed, their jaws set in somber grey expressions. For several minutes neither of them moved. Finally, Chile spoke. "Do you suppose he's calmed down now?"

A wail came from the adjacent room, followed by the clink of breaking glass. Ecuador sighed.

"Nope."

"Hey Pablo, can I stay over tonight?"

"Are you kidding me? Germany will have our balls for breakfast if he finds out! Well, he'll have mine. Yours will be shoved down your own throat when Miguel catches you here."

Right on cue, the Venezuelan popped in. "Oi, what is Yamai doing in here?" he demanded. "Go back to your own room."

"He can't," said Ecuador. "Huayna will rip his remaining man-parts off after you're through with him."

"Shush!" Chile hissed. "Do you hear that?"

Ecuador and Venezuela strained their ears, only to hear silence.

"That's my point exactly! What happened to the yelling? Maybe he finally cried himself to sleep." He tiptoed to the next room and poked his head in. He was immediately assaulted by an angry Peruvian wielding a pillow.

"How dare you show your face here, jackass! I don't care if you have to sleep on the floor outside, you're not sharing a room with me! Get out!"

Chile sighed.

After a lot of shouting and fist-waving, Austria finally got a bunch of nations to carry the piano upstairs for him. "But Austria," England protested, "what about your roommate? Won't they find it annoying?"

"If they know what's good for them," the Austrian replied curtly, "they would shut up and be grateful for the wonderful music they are receiving."

Unfortunately, America didn't know what was good for him.

"Hey, Austria!" the hyper blond greeted as he burst in like the Kool Aid man. "Oh, yeah! I hope we can get along! Whoa, that piano takes up so much room!"

Austria's eyes narrowed. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Haha, not really! I mean, my PlayStation and other junk still fits along this side, right?" He started carrying in box after box after box of game consoles and monitors.

Austria sighed. "Please turn the volume down when I'm playing the piano…"

"Sure thing!" But Austria knew his words had sailed right over the American's head.

Suddenly, there was a clamor from the room above. Austria groaned. Would he never get any peace? He grabbed a broom and thumped the ceiling. "Hey, keep it down, will you? I'm trying to play the piano here! Honestly, who does that Arschloch think he is?"

...

It wasn't Germany's fault he was being loud. He'd walked into the room and been ambushed by none other than…

"Yo! Like, it's Germany! Hey, man!" Poland waved. "By the way, check out my outfit! Isn't it, like totally awesome?" He did an about-face for the stunned German, showing off his string bikini.

Germany tried to get out but in his hysteria he'd apparently forgotten how to open a door. "Gott, let me out, let me out!" he cried, desperately fumbling with the doorknob while the Pole approached him. Even rooming with Britain would've been better…

...

"I can't believe this."

"Me neither."

The two nations glared at each other across the bed.

Finally, England sighed and turned around. "Whatever. I'm going to draw a line down the middle of the room. You stay on your side and I'll stay on mine. Got it?"

"Hmph," Sealand huffed. "Why couldn't I have stayed with Latvia instead?"

...

Latvia eyed the strange person in front of him. Said person was clad in nothing but sunglasses and a pair of Batman boxers, revealing nearly all his tan skin. "Um, who are you?" he asked timidly.

The man flashed him a thumbs up. "I'm Madagascar! Come, dance with me! I like to move it, move it~~ I like to move it, move it~~"

For once, Latvia stopped trembling. "O-okay…" He couldn't wait to tell Estonia about his new cool new friend who didn't scare him or squish him or stretch him or make him do all the dirty work.

...

"Oh wow, I'm so lucky," the Baltic nation commented as he flung open the curtains. "Nice view, big room, and on top of that, no roommate!" He grinned.

Canada sighed and began unpacking. Sooner or later the Estonian would trip over him and find out.

...

Italy stared eagerly at his roommate, a brown-skinned man in a kandura and a headdress. "Ve~~~~"

UAE pointed to him. "You're Italy," he said, receiving a nod from the Italian in response. "Who am I?"

"Ve, I think you have that backwards! You should say, 'I'm the United Arab Emirates. Who are you?' because you need to introduce yourself first!"

"Okay. I'm Mohammed Ali, I speak Tamil, and I hate Saudi Arabia. Wait, I think only that last part's right…"

"It's okay! Sometimes Nii-chan gets identity crisis too! Don't worry, I'll help you!"

"I appreciate it."

...

Romano had managed to beat the crowd and locked himself in his room while a flood of nations sloshed through the halls in search of their rooms and roommates. Damn it, how did this happen? He was houseless, forced to share this damn hellhole with 300 other smelly nations, not even given his privacy (at least the world leaders were working hard on building another wing, though he doubted it would be complete anytime soon), and on top of that th-there would be n-n-no A-Antonio in b-bed ton-n-night…

A certain cheese-eating sister complex was going to feel the wrath of the Mafia later.

He kicked the wall in frustration. If he didn't have to live in this godforsaken place he'd have pissed on it already! Instead he just collapsed onto his bed with a sigh. It was the end of the world. He would never get through this…

He spotted the doorknob twist and guessed that it must be his roommate, unlocking the door with his/her/its key.

Bah.

His eyes went as wide as dinner plates when he saw who was on the other end.

Mexico jumped back as though the doorway had repelled him. "What the FUCK?" he screamed, dropping his luggage as he did a double take. "You? I have to share a room with YOU?"

Romano was just as surprised. "CAZZOOOOOOOO!" he yelled, slamming his fist into the mattress. Shit, shit, shit, shit! This was awful! So goddamn awful! A certain cheese-eating sister complex must've been smoking crack when he paired them up! Damn it, what had he done to deserve this? He was a pious man (sometimes). He went to church every Sunday (only because Vatican City made him). He was nice to women! So, why? Why?

Mexico started crying. "Papá… help me…"

Romano felt a twinge of irritation when the Hispanic mentioned Spain. How dare that brat use Antonio's name in vain. He wanted to go over there and punch Mexico in the face, but damn it, he was too tired right now. Besides, there was plenty of time to do that later.

"Dio," he muttered, playing his hands together in prayer, "have mercy on me. I don't know what I did to anger You, but whatever it was, I'm really sorry. So, please, stop torturing me…"

When he opened his eyes again the damn brat was still there.

UAE (Abdul El Jamail): 27 years old. Still can't remember who he is, unfortunately. Someone ought to shoo those immigrants out.

Albania: 25-year-old man with France-like stubble and messy hair he ties into a ponytail. Kind of mean-looking at first but once you get to know him he's really quite a nice guy.

Croatia (Nikola Sablić): 20 years old, with large innocent eyes and a face so bishie it makes Hungary fangasm.

Herzegovina (Senka Kovaevic, but everyone calls her Herzé): 19-year-old girl with long brown hair. Her twin brother is Bosnia (Petar Kovacevic; close friends call him Boz).

Venezuela (Miguel Vespucci): 26 years old, probably has feelings for Ecuador but no one needs to know that, right? OAO

According to Hetalia Archives, one of Iceland's potential names is Emil.

Madagascar: XD

R&R~