๑ Otto ๑ Phone ๑

[tomatatas]

A. [On the floor of Mayfield's Church of Salvation, just behind the alter, you can find Romana's body, neck broken, with a bottle of Holy Water spilt next to her. Her eyes are shut, a single tear in the corner of her eye]

B. [Sometime later there's a call, the voice clearly Romana's, even if it is choked up in what sounds like tears]

It hurts... bastardi, it hurts so much... why didn't you help, why, I would have helped you...

[A small burst of static interrupts her and the line goes silent, the voice waiting for a response before continuing it's game]

C. [She's warm, comfortable, as Romana wakes, sleepily eyeing the room Mayfield has given her. In the moments of her first waking she lazily rolls over, her mind slowly focusing on yesterday. And when she remembers she gasps, sitting up quickly, her hand flying to her neck. While it feels perfectly fine, she still gets up quickly, to the small vanity table, to check the mirror, needing visual evidence to abate her fears.

...she's fine. There's not a bruise, not a scratch, nothing. She swallows, shaky fingers tracing a line down her throat as she stares. She was dead, she knows. It may have been a quick death, but it happened.

Eventually she makes it to the phone, cradling the base unit in her lap as she leans against the wall. Her voice, without her realising, is nearly identical to the one the angel used yesterday.]

Is... is anybody there?

Comments

I just do not have the right icons for this much angst.^^;

[canhaspasta.livejournal.com]

[He pulls away from Spain in favor of covering his ears, not wanting to hear anymore. Was that what she'd always thought? That he was pathetic? Maybe he was. He'd always stood in the shadow of some larger, stronger nation. Was always protected by other people. Other people who made sacrifices to keep him safe. Maybe if he'd been stronger, he could have stood up for himself. Maybe if he'd been braver, he would have joined Holy Rome. Maybe then Holy Rome wouldn't have disappeared.


......


But he wasn't brave. He was weak, and a coward. It was a wonder that anyone put up with him at all.]

Please.... Forgive me...

[He doesn't even know who he's apologizing to anymore....]

All of mine are on another account |D

[koyo]

( ( But that wasn't how it worked out. No one left; everyone else just grew up, right? It was France's fault, England's, Americas-- it wasn't his fault, right? Wait, no, this wasn't about him! He had to take care of Italy! ) )

You don't have to apologize, Italia.

( ( He kisses Italy's forehead and looks around. The voice- it had to be coming from someone somewhere. It couldn't be Romana. Maybe if he could find it he could stop it? ) )

Ffff

[tomatatas]

[The raido crackles, under the alter. To get to it though, he's going to have to come closer, step over Romana's broken body]

His apologises are useless anyway. Aren't they piccolo?

[canhaspasta.livejournal.com]

She.... She's right....

[He has nothing else to say. He can't even deny it anymore. He looks down at the floor, watching his tears hit the ground one by one.]

[koyo]

No, no, she's not, querido. Listen to me; I've never lied to you before. . . ( ( He thinks he knows where the voice is coming from and he gives Italy a squeeze, ) ) Everything will be okay, I promise.

( ( And he let's go to go behind the altar and stop the voice from bastardizing Romana's name. ) )