towerofanimus | Those little things you took for granted.

Characters:

towerofanimus!
Setting: Starting on the Fourth Floor.
Format: Prose, but feel free to tag with either!
Summary: Romano's being whiny about how much stair climbing he's been doing lately. Frankly, he's a little sore. Also some introspective woobieness.
Warnings: Obligatory warnings for Romano's mouth?

Why the hell weren't there elevators in a building this big? Why did they have to build stairs instead? Of course, his silent questions went unanswered, leaving him with nothing to do but to collapse on one of the sofas on the fourth floor, somewhere away from the dreary windows.

He missed Italy so much, the burning desire to feel actual soil beneath his feet growing so intense he thought he might cry. God (he presumed) had been kind enough to leave him with tomatoes and wine from home, but he was going to run out of those eventually if he stayed here long enough. How long would that be? Would he ever see his brother again? Were Spain and Belgium okay? He hadn't seen them, if they'd been saved alongside him and the other nations here.

He'd like to introduce his Spain to the female Spain he met in the cafeteria on the first day... they'd probably get along. A weary smile lit up his face and he sprawled out on the sofa, wincing as he felt his poor sore muscles protest that very movement.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hey, that walking up the stairs must be tough right? She wouldn't know man, flying and all. She actually preferred walking inside buildings, it felt kind of restricted with walls and beams everywhere. But if it means saving herself the effort of the stairs, then she had no problems with it.

Still, she felt a little bad for the man who'd just plopped down. The difference between humans and fairies was pretty obvious, and she was used to it, but couldn't really imagine life without her wings.

This guy could use a little kindness for that, at least. "Are you alright? I don't suppose it would be against the rules to get you some water," she offered.

[OOC: Wouldn't wings get sore after a while instead, then? :|a]

Not bothering to look up at whoever this kind soul was, he waved a dismissal. "I-I'm fine, really."

Yes, he was suffering, but that didn't mean he had to look like less of a man in front of what sounded like a woman. That just wasn't his style. Right.

[.... i wonder, maybe i should look up more of that stuff huffhuff]

"If you're sure," she hesitated, guessing that he was probably just trying to look tough. It could be that maybe he wasn't fit enough for it? He didn't look terribly out of shape ~~so chubchub~~. "Maybe someone could file a complaint," she muttered, mostly to herself. As if that would work.

"They should file a complaint, for a lot of reasons!" He looked up. And blinked. And stared.

"Are those...wings?"

"Ah." Wow Romano way to make her feel out of the ordinary. She nods, used to getting that reaction by now. "They are."

He rubbed his eyes, wondering if maybe he had finally lost his mind. P-People didn't have wings! Or pointy ears. Well, some people have pointy ears, but not to this extent. The only solution he can come to is that he's finally gone as mad as England already is.

"And you're actually flying..." His visioned blurred. "I must be losing it."

She patted his arm, maybe to console him or maybe as a reminder that she is, in fact, real. "I'm sorry, I'm becoming aware that this is hard for some people to grasp. It's really common where I'm from..."

Mercedes now felt awkward thanks bro. "Um. My name is Mercedes. T'is nice to meet you."

That helped to bring him back, some. "Oh, uh, not trying to be... rude I guess." Never.

And what a name she had. Wonder if she even knew she was named after a car. "You can call me Lovino or Romano."

Those little things you took for granted.

i can be late all i want

;u; I can be later!

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i win at lateness dohoho

gosh I guess you do huffpuff

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