towerofanimus | (no subject)

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23:30:00
Silent dormitory rooms are lined with bodies--not dead, just sleeping. Throughout the tower it is pitch black and silent. At the base of the tower, countless shining eyes, watching.

23:45:00
The tower hums to life. Lights blink on in one by one; only the dormitory rooms remain dark. A small army of blank-faced humanoids appear and spend the next ten minutes taking various positions around the tower.

23:59:00
An order given. The dormitory room lights blink on.

00:00:00
You are awake.

00:00:30
You can move.

Begin

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Wait hold every phone in existence. "You've got it wrong, my name is Romano. I wouldn't lie about my own damn name--" His cursing can't be helped, okay.

"I have no reason to--" he frowns, "--to imitate a woman or steal her name."

Okay, this is getting crazy.

"Italia Romana is a woman." She steps forward now, poking him in the chest. "I raised her myself, and in all my years she has never had a pene."

Far beyond crazy, this is effectively Twilight Zone stuff.

"Italia-- I'm the only Italia around here." He hasn't seen his brother... which is a whole other worry he'll express later. "A-and... mio dio, if Spain were here he could tell you! I'm not lying to you, singora!" He'll be discreetly covering up his crotch now that she's brought up the subject, damn this skin-tight monstrosity.

"Don't you talk back to me, chico," she warns him, her gaze brought down to his crotch with his subtle movement. Italian or not, he does have a pretty nice bulge- body, but he should wear something else besides that white bodysuit.

"I am España. Have been, has always been."

"..." Romano's mouth closes. He's silent for a while because he really doesn't know what to say. If the woman before him is Spain...

No, Romano. Stop that. He shakes those niggling thoughts from his head and scrutinizes this 'España'. Has Spain really turned into a woman?

"I... have no idea what's going on!" Is it the tower? Was this another part of the mystery of their abduction? "I can only tell you that I'm not lying to you, and the Spain I know really is a man. I really am Italy Romano." But this woman, who is undoubtedly another nation (or a very convincing delusional human), seems pretty adamant in her beliefs as well. Is it possible that both are true? What the hell!

This is going nowhere. If this imposter keeps denying the fact that he's lying about his nature, Spain is going to have to do something drastic.

"There is only one way to find out."

Before Romano can step back, she reaches up and fingers the curl that has been distracting her (aside from Romano's beautiful body). If he is what he claims to be, the curl will affect him the same way she knows it affects Romana.

When she'd said those words, Romano hadn't been expecting anything near the trick that Spain pulled.

It's too late by the time she has his curl, and those weird, warm, pleasant, tingling sensations hit him like a ton of bricks. "CHIGIII-" He blushes and slaps a hand over his loud mouth, giving the woman a glare through what might be the beginning of tears. "D-Don't touch that!" he says, muffled by his own hand. H-how the hell does this prove anything?!

Exactly the reaction she's seeking, but it's still seems too surreal. She has seen Romana around, but this... Romano, as he claims to be, is like her, only male.

"Romana... she has the same curl. And the same reaction when I touch it," she says softly. "...witchcraft..."

"N-Not witchcraft, damn it, just..." He tries to settle himself while still looking angry and hiding the fact that he's not really all that angry.

"Is this Romana person here as well?" He'd like to see this similarity for himself, to be honest.

And. The more he looks at this woman and her stunning green eyes, the more he's convinced that she isn't lying at all about being who she is. Only Spain would be cruel enough to just reach out and grab an Italy's curl.

"She is here, and I believe she would want to meet you too."

Spain lets the curl go, but she can't help but glance down again. Damn Italian men and their attractive bodies. She licks her lips, before her green eyes look up at him in the eyes again.

"But first... could you find something else to wear?"

"She'd... want to meet me?" He repeats, a little apprehensive about meeting what was sounding more and more like his female twin.

There's also a maddening blush on his face, turning him almost as red as those tomatoes he loves. The best he can do is awkwardly try to hide himself from her eyes, but in this suit, he'd have better luck trying to hide an egg in a bowl of water.

"A-ah, about that... where is everyone else getting these normal clothes?"

"Hm, maybe hit you in the face for taking her name first," Spain muses, looking away with a blush when he shifts again.

"Oh, they were in the trunk by the bed. You didn't check?"

"...oh." He should have checked. "I...guess I left before looking around." He blushes, realizing she's blushing too. O-oh so embarrassing... It hadn't even been this bad until someone pointed it out.

"I think I'll go back and...look for that trunk then." He coughs nervously and moves towards the direction he knows the stairs are in.

"You should," she urges, sitting down in front of his bowl. "I'll take care of your oatmeal for you."

He nods and runs (walks faster than normal...) to the stairs and is gone for a short while. Long enough to scale all those stairs and find a suitable place to change clothes, assuming his roommates were still dwelling about the room.

It takes him a bit longer because he has a lot of tomatoes to sort through in that box... but he eventually finds his clothing and the other things that came with him. After changing into clothes that are thankfully not stained with tomato juice, he sorts the rest of the items and makes his way back down...

...all those flights of stairs.

When he's back in the cafeteria, he's red from all that stairclimbing and a little out of breath, but he's in decent clothes! Pink shirt and tan pants, black shoes, everything clean. He's also a little surprised Spain's still there.

"Si-singora, sorry that took so long."

Spain takes the moment to appreciate Romano's fine ass as he runs back to change, then giggles as she takes a bowl of oatmeal for herself. Fingering the collar, she sighs and stirs her oatmeal idly, taking a taste and blanching.

Someone here doesn't know how to cook apparently.

Before she can throw her oatmeal, Romano returns, wearing something nicer than white. "Oh, You didn't take long, don't worry."

Romano takes a seat across from her at the table, feeling less embarrassed in her presence than he had before. His confidence was a little raised as well, even if his panting just now was a little awkward.

"Oh, that's good...Spagna." It felt weird calling this woman something he'd reserved only for a certain idiota, but on some strange level, it also felt... right? She was certainly a breath of fresh air, though, that's for sure.

Though he still hadn't seen his Spain around, which worried him. N-not like he cared about the moron or anything.

"España, if you're not comfortable with calling me Spagna," she says softly, nudging his cereal back to him as she continues to stir her oatmeal. "I know it's in Spanish, but you seem so uncomfortable with it..."

"I-I'm not uncomfortable at all!" He lied, trying to seem less childish about it than he probably seemed. "I can call you whichever name you prefer."

He stirred the cereal in his bowl, looking at the now-mushy bits with slight disgust. It was no one's fault but his own but... it still sucked.

And yet, instead of eating it before it got more mushy, he lifted his head back up to speak to Spain again. "S-So this world you're from. Where I'm-- ah, I mean, Romana, is a woman. What's it like?"

Spain gave him a warm smile, leaning slightly closer as she began to speak.

"It's like a normal world." She continued to play with her oatmeal, her smile fond. "Roma Antigua raised us, I had my empire and my children, World Wars, civil wars... It's normal, for me."

"Oh...so it's pretty much the same as mine." Except for the gender flips. Taking her word for it, Romano finally decided it was time to eat that cereal.

Just...one bite.

He didn't even think there could be anything wrong with it, like, oh, poison.

"Mm, pretty much the same."

She drew lazy shapes in her oatmeal, pushing the bowl aside when she couldn't take the taste anymore. Leaning over to Romano, she glances at his bowl. "Does your cereal taste better?"

He would respond to her if he wasn't busy turning green.

His spoon fell into the bowl with a little clank and with one hand he clutched at his stomach and the other at his mouth. Shit shit shit why the hell was he getting sick all of the sudden?!

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...I can and I will...maybe

Romana will throw a fit if Romano did that. >>

...o...oh... NEVERMIND...we can... form an alliance based in the cafeteria...instead.

The Spanish-Roman empire of Cafeteria?

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...

:3?

curl abuse... :c

Innocent curl tugging, what do you mean abuse.

with curl tugging, there can be no innocence :|

Femspaña doesn't know that.

Neither does Manspaña sob

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