Tres

[latomatetas.livejournal.com]

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.

Comments

Hetalia vs. Nobodies OY

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

"If nobody is there to remember us there are no memories and there is nothing to be had of us. Prusse simply adapted and became something else, yet he is too stubborn to be called something else. If memory was all we have left, why wouldn't Rome be walking tall and mighty down these halls, Espagne."

He frowned, but continued on. "If anyone was mighty and memorable it was that man, and yet he is gone. We remain. I do not trust this place or the sheepskin it has obviously thrown over our eyes." Sounding bitter, he pulled back and looked ahead with a grimace. She sounded tired so he was intent on silencing such an unfortunate topic.

Reaching forward he squeezed her arm gently. "Yes, I know...If there is anything I can do, let me know, hm?"

Hurhurhur

[latomatetas.livejournal.com]

She merely shook her head, squeezing the bridge of her nose. She had came here to find solace, but the topic of their survival was breaking her heart again. She knew it wasn't his fault, but it still hurt to think about it.

"Gracias, Francia, but I think I need the silence right now."

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

Francis had the tendency when over-thinking to overstep, but he knew when he'd squashed a few toes unlike other of his companions. Sighing, he touched her arm again before pulling away completely.

"I apologize, Espagne. Please keep up hope ma chere."

[latomatetas.livejournal.com]

"Lo siento, Francia." She sighed, shaking her head again before smiling sadly up at him. She was grateful he's gracious enough not to pursue further on the subject. "I have a lot on my mind right now, and dying is certainly not welcome."

[creme-master.livejournal.com]

He reached over to push some of her hair back behind her ear before crossing his arms over the chair back as a pillow for his head. The whole posture he was pursuing could be called deviance but hey, he had worse in the past.

"None of that. It would surely be the end of the world if it lost such a lovely lady as yourself."

[latomatetas.livejournal.com]

"I doubt my people would appreciate their country dying," Spain whispered, standing up and smoothing down her skirt. "I best be off. It has been a pleasure talking to you, Francia."