towerofanimus

Characters: Spain, open to everyone~
Setting: Different floors~
Format: Action or prose; I'll just follow along.
Summary: More exploring, as usual. And a little confession.
Warnings: TBA

Floor Thirteen: Cathedral

This is something new. Spain wonders when did this appear, but decides not to dwell on it. Instead, she sits in a pew, clasping her hands together around her cross as her head bows low (inwardly she thinks she should have brought down her rosary). Her eyes are shut, but she's trying to hold back tears.

"Dios te salve, Maria. Llena eres de gracia: El Señor es contigo..."

-

Floor One: Cafeteria

Sighing when she reaches the cafeteria, Spain recalls the number of floors between her dorm and the cafeteria. Thirteen, the unlucky number, which ironically is the floor where the cathedral is.

Shaking her head, she mutters to herself, "Must have been a coincidence..." before helping herself to the food. Two small meat pies, salad and juice. She wasn't that hungry to begin with.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"For all the centuries I spent in them, its more relaxing than other things. But you were always catholic, so I guess it brings you more peace than me." he gave a shrug, if it wasn't the accent that gave her away it was her demeanor as Spain. He had yet to meet her but he had a feeling some of the friend he knew from home was there.

"The acoustics in here are shit compared to the actual thing."

"I've noticed, after you spoke." Spain patted the empty seat beside her. "Normally the voices would carry further, but here they seem muted. Must be the effect of the tower."

"Probably the tower." He took a seat beside her and looked over at her. "I always wondered what you'd look like as a woman. Not going to lie, from most of the female versions of us you're all pretty damn hot."

A light blush dusted her cheeks at the compliment, but she covered it up by laughing softly and shaking her head. "Gracias, Prusia. You're not bad looking yourself."

"This much awesome, of course not." he smirked and ran a hand through his hair, only succeeding in making it messier and having Gilbird chirp at him for being interrupted from his nap.

Sighing, Spain gestured for Prussia to lean closer. Male or female, Prussia still had the messy syndrome attached to them.

"So much awesome, and you still don't know how to comb your hair." She laughed again, fingers smoothing down the stray messy locks, careful not to disturb the bird. "Silly Prusia."

He leaned toward her and couldn't help but smirk. The ladies loved trying to fix his hair, partially one reason he kept it that way, the other was that he couldn't be bothered to fix it like his brother did in the mornings.

"Why would I want to when I have pretty women like you to comb it for me?" he smirked and settled back in the pew once she was done.

"It's because you're lazy," came her rebuttal, petting the chick on the head before she moved away. "Prusia - the one I know - doesn't even know how to brush hers, even today."

"I know how to brush my hair, I just don't want to. It takes too long and its bothersome." he shrugged and gave her a smile at petting Gilbird.

"You're just lazy," she repeated herself, returning the smile with one of her own.

"Says the country who sleeps more than even Italy." grins and elbows her gently.

Spain laughed and shook her head, poking him in the cheek. "No, you must be thinking of the male me. I have far too much work to do than to sleep."

"Amazing, usually Antonio is dozing off during meetings and too busy harassing Romano to actually know what's going on." He laughed and batted her hand away gently. "So, Miss I-dont-sleep. What do you do with your time then?"

"I tend to my garden of course," she explained, swatting at him. "The tomatoes don't grow by themselves, you know."

"They always seemed to grow fine unattended when I last checked." he grinned and caught her hand, not applying any pressure. He only had the one hand seeing as his other was in a sling around his neck. "They're tomatoes, not orchids or something."

"Still, they won't be as big if I don't talk to them. Plants grow better if you encourage them, don't you know?"

It was only now that she noticed his bandaged arm, touching it lightly. "Oh dios, when did you hurt yourself, Prusia?"

"I don't know about plants I was always horrible at growing things." he smirked and glanced down at his wrist and gave a bit of an embarassed laugh.

"Hungary fell on it and it broke under our combined weight."

That... seemed like a really silly thing for Prussia, and Spain stared at him, disbelieving.

"No. Really?"

"Well... it was dark and she decided to stop walking and I had a sword in my hand so it was a case of trying not to crush her or impale her with the sword I had. So it would up my wrist was twisted and then we both landed on it and something had to give."

Spain clicked her tongue disapprovingly at him, leaning in closer to inspect the injury. "Really, querida, you have to learn not to injure yourself because of little things. Who knows if we can actually die here."

That made him sigh and lean forward on the pew with his arms resting over the one in front of him.

"Hungary had her leg mauled, passed out on me from blood loss so I'm wondering if what you say is true. At least it was my right arm and not my left." he chuckled and shook his head. "This tower is fucking insane."

"I have had discussions about it with a few people..." She trailed off, her lips drawn tight. She came here to find her peace, and not think of the bad things that happened.

"Hm" was all the comment Prussia made on it. He really didn't feel like discussing that night beyond explaining how his wrist was broken. Even then, he was half tempted to lie and say it was from getting in a fight.

Tres

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject