Post by Northern Italy on Jan 11, 2017 18:05:57 GMT -7
Italian East Africa... 1945
Feliciano watched as Italian artillery launched shells into the valley. It was hard to see what effect they were having upon the enemy, but the amount of smoke that filled the desert valley must have been a sure sign that the preliminary bombardment was successful. Feliciano turned his head to see the Italian general leading the pacification effort. Marshal of Italy, Rodolfo Graziani, in Italy he was known as the Pacifier of Libya and Ethiopia, outside of Italy he was known as the butcher of those two colonies. The man was a professional at colonial warfare, he knew how to combat guerilla warfare and was known for his ruthlessness... Feliciano had the utmost respect for this man.
He once again watched the bombardment continue relentlessly, it didn't matter whether the artillery would be successful or not, this was going to be the first demonstration of a new strategy that the Italians were experimenting, mobile warfare. Germany had been successful using blitzkrieg, while Feliciano realized the obvious limitations that his army faced, a mobile war doctrine would be helpful for any future wars.
The North Italian turned once more, but not to Graziani this time, but his elder brother Lovino Vargas. Ever since the allegations of his elder brother's plan to escape were proven true, he now kept an eye on his brother. He hadn't told Mussolini of Lovino's failed plan yet, but just thinking about it made him want to scream. Feliciano detested cowardice or failure, two things that seemed to follow Lovino constantly.
His brother's insistence of going back to life before this whole war quite literally made Feliciano ask if they were truly related. When he was a child he admired his elder brother and had always tried to make him happy, nowadays Lovino seemed to make it his personal mission to oppose Feliciano's plans. He had realized that the empire he had spent so long making could collapse fast if Lovino had his way in any policies... So Feliciano silenced Lovino's voice, if the empire was going to have an effective ruler, Northern Italy will lead the way, no questions asked.
"Ti piace lo spettacolo, fratello?"
Translation
"Ti piace lo spettacolo, fratello?" = "Like the show, brother?"
Last Edit: Jan 11, 2017 18:07:06 GMT -7 by Northern Italy
Post by Southern Italy on Jan 19, 2017 18:10:05 GMT -7
Smoke... So much smoke.
Lovino couldn't help but to bring his hand up to cover his nose with the back of his hand, and though the explosions covered up any screams of the victims of the war, almost all of them innocents that just happened to be born here, he swore he could hear every scream. Every cry. Just the thought of lovers crying for each other, mothers huddling their children, elders unable to take the force and being blown into pieces... They were not visible, no. But it still made way into South Italian's mind, flashing its imagery. He had to hold back from flinching and just turning away from the smoke that littered the air.
And as if they were in a never ending world, the bombardments continued relentlessly. If it had been just him, Lovino would've told them to stop already, told them that this was enough. That there was no reason to continue this nonsense; the population could be of use to them if not one way, then another. He himself suffered from the loss of population; he could only imagine effect they were bringing onto Ethiopia and Libya. He would have to find himself praying for their well-being tonight, definitely.
"Ti piace lo spettacolo, fratello?"
The elder brother almost jumped out of his skin, his darkened eyes narrowing to the younger once spoken to. Just knowing of the North Italian's presence alone, being next to him and asking him such an innocent inquiry, sickened him. He could feel the bruises under his uniform throbbing, the cuts all over pulsing of the reminder of his brother alone. Finally, Lovino lowered his hand slightly to give the other a decent glare. He didn't answer at first, unable to come up with a decent response that would satisfy both ends. The truth? He would get beat again. But saying 'yes' in such place, where death was occurring right before his eyes, didn't seem fitting, either.
Ever since his brother discovered his former plans of escape, he had noticed, Feliciano had tried to keep a shorter leash on him. Even today, he wanted to refuse to come, told him outright that he wasn't feeling well, but he was dragged along anyway. Some days recently, Lovino even questioned if he had his own voice, or free will to make his own decisions regarding himself.
"...You're sick."
Was all he could mutter back; he kept his voice low, whether Feliciano heard it or not was not on him.
Post by Northern Italy on Jan 21, 2017 21:16:38 GMT -7
The sound of the artillery insured that Feliciano could not hear what his elder brother had to say for this display, not that it really mattered in any case. The man couldn't care less about Lovino's opinion on the whole issue, he only said that to make his brother feel uneasy or at least to expose some sort of weakness within Lovino.
Judging by his brother's expression, it wasn't exactly the most positive answer that was to be sure, when Lovino opened his mouth and spoke the artillery discharged leaving his brother's words lost to him. In any case Feliciano just shrugged his shoulders as the next part of the demonstration begun.
All of a sudden a whistle blew out signalling the time to advance. Eritrean and Libyan Askari, Italy's Native African troops advanced in a separate columns, followed by Feliciano's newest and most powerful tank he had ever made: The Carro Armato P 26/40, an Italian Heavy Tank comparable to Germany's Panzer IV, with it's 75mm gun along with an 8mm machine gun, it had proven far too powerful for the Greeks in the Italian Counter Offensive during the war. It would be invincible here.
Following the tanks were Italian soldiers, both from the Italian Army (a majority of Southern Italians) and from the Blackshirt (All Northern Italians) that were meant to mop up any survivors the other columns couldn't take out.
As the large force of tanned and black uniforms slowly advanced into the valley, Feliciano smiled. Everything was going to plan, against a European opponent, chemical warfare would also have been used along with flame throwers to clear out the enemy front line, but against these rebels the use of chemical warfare would have been a waste. Now it was time for him to lead the troops on the battlefield instead of watching them, what fun would he have if he just sat here watching?
Feliciano all of a sudden saluted Graziani, while putting his sun helmet on. The Northern Italian, was dressed in the typical fashion of his Blackshirt Divisions in Africa. Pulling on the black jacket and straightening his black tie he turned to Lovino grinning coldly.
"Andiamo fratello."*
He grabbed his MAB 38 submachine gun and waited until Lovino was ready to walk quickly to their troops advancing on the rebel positions. Feliciano seemed a little excited to go and lead the attack and was tapping on his machine gun impatiently while he waited.
"Veloce! Dobbiamo andare!"**
Translations * "Lets go brother" ** "Quick! We have to go!"
Post by Southern Italy on Jan 24, 2017 5:35:38 GMT -7
As much as he would've loved to show the weakness that his brother despised oh so much, Lovino couldn't bring himself to repeat himself when, obviously, his brother didn't hear what he muttered out in distasteful spite. All that was shown was a shrug from the younger brother, something that made Lovino roll his eyes back at, clearly annoyed. If he didn't want to hear the answer, sometimes, Lovino wondered, why he even bothered talking to him? It seemed any answer he provided these days to the Northern Italian fell on deaf ears; it irritated him, no doubt, not that he was going to do much about it.
"...And yet you hear me in the most inconvenient times..." The elder brother growled out under his breath, raising his hand to cover his nose once more. That was when he heard the sudden loud whistle and cringed, his brows furrowing and scowl deepening. The valley was no doubt a mess now, not that he wanted to give it a peek, but the troops seemed to just disregard any problems they made. If anything, they seemed proud, Feliciano included. It would be a lie to say Lovino didn't understand why, but he decided to not dwell on it too much, as it would only worsen his headaches... And without a doubt, his nightmares as well.
It was no wonder why many of the other empires frowned upon the treatment the Italian empire committed upon its lands. It would be kindly stated to say it was a mess, even. Sure, Rome itself was a dumpster in itself as well, but Lovino could assure himself it wasn't this bad. His hazel green eyes watched as tanks and troops continued forward to the path led. It was then that Feliciano suddenly moved to salute Graziani, making him reflexively do the same before ending it with a deep sigh.
The words his brother spoke indeed reached Lovino, but he at first, refused to move. He wasn't sure if it was the smoke or the heat itself of the region, but he was feeling dizzy. Perhaps the cold he had been complaining about was finally taking its real tolls on him, who knew. Hearing his brother rush him only made said dizziness worse, but he heard the tapping on the gun and grumbled.
...Was it worth a shot?
"I'm not feeling well, though... We already tested your bullshit weaponry, let's go back now."
Post by Northern Italy on Jan 26, 2017 4:00:51 GMT -7
Feliciano watched impatiently as the large force advanced, already one could hear shots being fired at the Eritrean Native Troops had clearly found survivors of the preliminary barrage. He had become so entranced in the whole scene he almost missed his brother's response to his demands to speed things up... Almost. Unsurprisingly, Lovino was complaining and demanding that they leave the battlefield, the fact that his brother would even think of disobeying a direct order from Rome itself, was insulting to Italy.
"I'm not feeling well, though... We already tested your bullshit weaponry, let's go back now."
To add insult to injury, Lovino was demanding to leave in English... English! It was almost a joke to think that the personification of Southern Italy was complaining to Northern Italy in English. His brother had disappointed him before, but this was a whole new low. Il Duce had ordered that they both had to play their parts in this guerrilla war, not leave the burden for Feliciano to carry alone, sadly Lovino was stupid and even wanted to abandon their gains! What would Nonno Roma say about this? A direct descendant of Rome abandoning territory that they had won?
The North Italian remained calm, the last thing he wanted to show his men was that he and his brother were in a disloyal and abusive relationship. Perhaps trying to talk nicely with his brother would convince Lovino to change his mind. Then again Feliciano wasn't going to bend over to Lovino's demands and simply head back to Addis Ababa, disappointing Mussolini was unthinkable. To add to this, he had talked to Lovino many times throughout their lives nicely... His brother never gave a damn what he had to say.
Gripping Lovino's shoulder, he looked straight into his brother's eyes, with a steely cold expression. As if he was staring at the very thing he hated the most.
"Lovino, we must do as Il Duce says. We just finish this battle and then we'll head back to the capital, then I'll give you some more medicine for the cold. We must purge this land of the Ethiopian insects first... We must fight now."
He couldn't blame Lovino though, he himself was suffering as well. Only large quantities of medicine helped him get up to do his duties. If Germany would accept to help them with their economy though, maybe things will turn out okay, if not, it would take many years to stabilize the Italian economy and to get rid of these damn colds.
"Now lets go, grab what you need and we can soon join our men."
Post by Southern Italy on Jan 27, 2017 5:57:42 GMT -7
Rubbing his own temple with his fingers, Lovino waited for the response from his brother after his comment. He could feel the heat from his own head to the end of his digits, and it was then that he was no longer unsure of where the dizziness was coming from. It had to be the damn fever; and the busy actions and the heat of the very place there were at were not helping one bit. Neither was the smoke that clogged the air.
He was almost expecting a slap, or at least frantic yelling, from the younger brother. The two seemed to not be able to get any opinion straight on the same line. It wasn't anything new worth of mentioning out loud, no, since the arguments they had had always been there from the time they were tiny children. Quarrels over the tiniest events were always present, and it was only the continuation of such relationship. The thing that changed however, was just how much physical the younger Italian became over the past few years. Never in his life before did Lovino remember having as many injuries as he did at the moment.
The hand that was placed on his shoulder gripped tight, and Lovino couldn't help but to wince at it. His whole body ached, he himself wasn't sure where exactly all his bruises were anymore but, the his brother's fingers surely found a way to put pressure on them despite them hiding under the uniform. Instinctively he pulled his hand away from his head and onto his brother's gripping hand, trying to push the pain away. The elder Italian's teeth were grit as he hissed out a pained breath, eyes looking straight back into the other's amber gaze. The simple look was enough to make him flinch.
"Lovino, we must do as Il Duce says. We just finish this battle and then we'll head back to the capital, then I'll give you some more medicine for the cold. We must purge this land of the Ethiopian insects first... We must fight now."
"..."
Insects, huh? Well that certainly was one way to try and numb oneself of murder of innocents. Lovino at first wasn't certain whether his brother picked the word as he decided it would make the guilt of the mass murder feel at ease, or if he was just trying to insult what was already dead. He much rather wanted to think it was the first, that the Northern Italian had some heart in him still that he wanted to keep from emotional and mental trauma, but something in him told him it was certainly the latter logic that made more sense in this case. Hesitantly, his hazel greens pulled away from his brother's golden browns, and he sighed heavily.
Il Duce, Il Duce... That's all Feliciano seemed to care for these days anymore. Like the man replaced Dio himself, like the younger was suddenly possessed by what Lovino considered, a joke of a leader. It sickened Lovino honestly. Flinching hearing his brother trying to urge him on to join the battle, Lovino gave out an almost inaudible whimper.
"...But they seem to have it covered. They don't need our help; we really can just go back and leave it to them."
Well, it of course meant leaving his men there to battle on their own but... Lovino was exhausted. His head was pounding, he wasn't sure he could stand straight with his own staggering feet if he were to start walking or running now. If anything, he wanted to just sit in spot and take a rest.
Post by Northern Italy on Jan 29, 2017 5:14:45 GMT -7
Lovino didn't seem to understand the word, order. If Feliciano had it his way, his brother wouldn't even be here, he would only create a mess that he would have to clean up. Mussolini had ordered both of them to carry out this job, hence they were both going to get through this together... Whether Lovino liked it or not.
While his brother was correct in his observation that they hardly needed to lead the troops on the field, Feliciano begged to differ. An army could have the most advanced and powerful equipment the world has ever seen, but this was rendered useless when you were leading an army of idiots. That wasn't to say that these soldiers were completely clueless of what to do, but Feliciano liked to command authority within the ranks of his soldiers.
If Mussolini wanted him to lead the troops he would do so. Il Duce had always ordered Feliciano to oversee all of Italy's invasion projects, the successes in the Greek, Albanian, Spanish, Ethiopian and Libyan campaigns were all testament to Feliciano being there with his troops, from their successes to their defeats. Why couldn't Lovino be apart of that?
Gripping harder into his brother's shoulder, Feliciano's eyes flashed angrily.
"This wasn't a discussion Lovino... I don't make the orders, I just enforce them."
Feliciano had had enough time waiting. They were joining the force now. He aimed his machine gun at Lovino, with a disturbing look in his eyes accompanied with an even creepier smile. Now he didn't care whether he was receiving odd looks, he could shoot Lovino right now for cowardice, but knowing his elder brother he would eventually get moving faster.
"Lovino, we either go now. Or you end up with a bullet through your leg. What will it be?"
Post by Southern Italy on Jan 29, 2017 7:46:23 GMT -7
Finally a audible yelp was heard when Feliciano gripped tighter onto his bruised shoulder. The hand that Lovino was already using to try to aid in getting himself out of the pain from it was desperately slapping at the said hand of his brother's in a desperate attempt to get him to let go, long whimpering noises passing him as he did so. He didn't have the courage to even look up to his brother's face anymore, all his focus was on that pain. The only thing that managed to pull his attention away from it was the loud noise of the gun being moved, making him gasp and quickly tense.
"This wasn't a discussion Lovino... I don't make the orders, I just enforce them."
If it wasn't for the gun, Lovino would've had so much to say to that phrase alone. How Feliciano was nothing but a dog licking the so called leader's boots, was his main insult in mind, but logic for once stopped him for blurting it out. Instead, the Southern Italian's expression hardened and his eyes narrowed coldly to the ground. He was only able to catch a glimpse of the creepy smile that was on his brother's face before he noticed the others giving them both odd looks of concern and curiosity.
"..."
"Lovino, we either go now. Or you end up with a bullet through your leg. What will it be?"
The mere thought of getting shot in the leg was enough to make Lovino gulp nervously. He never was good with pain, and though bruises and broken bones were common occurrences these days, especially when spending time with his younger brother, bullet wounds were a different story. Lovino felt a tremble run up his spine in pure fear, before he hastily grabbed his own gun, almost dropping it in the process.
"F-Fine... Fine. I'm ready..." He whimpered out in fear, his eyes watching his brother's gun cautiously, "Just... Stop this ridiculous shitfest you have going on in your head... I'll go, alright? Let's get it over with."
In the end, the elder brother was nothing more than a coward.
Post by Northern Italy on Jan 29, 2017 23:03:22 GMT -7
It was so satisfying to Feliciano to see Lovino cower at the sight of him simply pointing a gun at him. What made this even better was the fact he was now moving quicker and was now ready to catch up with the large force. Though Feliciano could do without Lovino being in possession of a fire arm, if his brother was going to fight he would need an effective weapon to fight the rebels.
Letting go of his brother, still with the disturbing smile spread across his face he gestured with the gun towards the men 100 meters away and calmly walked towards them.
Feliciano walked as if he was going for a morning stroll, as if he wasn't walking in an area of craters, blackened earth, fire and what had once been alive. It was a sick sight to behold, now that the smoke had mostly cleared, the Italians could now truly see the effect of their actions. The fact that the North Italian seemed to grin happily as if nothing had happened, seriously made one question the man's mental state or if he even had any shred of humanity left in him.
"Lovino, look at our successful tactic! The whole area is destroyed! Perhaps this will be useful when war comes!"
Though he did notice some of the artillery shells hadn't exploded, it was still an excellent result for a new theory of warfare. He turned around to make sure Lovino was following his path, if he wasn't careful he would end up in one of the many craters that littered the ruined earth.
Feliciano loved it when one of his many schemes worked, it gave him a sense of comfort to know that he was successful in doing what he wanted. He turned and opened his arms out wide still smiling as he had been throughout this entire day.
"Look around Lovino! Look at our beautiful work!"
Last Edit: Jan 29, 2017 23:06:20 GMT -7 by Northern Italy
Post by Southern Italy on Feb 1, 2017 8:04:45 GMT -7
There was no denying the look of relief that crept upon Lovino's expression when his brother adjusted the gun away from his leg. The hand that painfully gripped at his shoulder was also released, and though the pain remained in place, the elder Italian was able to let out the breath he had partially been holding from that alone. His hazel gaze didn't miss the disturbing smile the younger brother wore as he gestured with the gun, towards the men they were to catch up to. Reluctantly, Lovino followed, his heart pounding in his chest from the aftermath of the initial surprise at the threat of getting shot in the leg.
By the time they reached the destroyed landscape, Lovino was deadly silent, eyes wide as he looked around at the scenery they caused. How his brother seemed gleeful of it all was seriously a mystery to Lovino, as he himself was horrified of their actions alone. One would suspect as a nation, one would be used to such sight already, but this was different. It wasn't blood that littered the earth, but rather smoke and craters, and some fire still flickering in some places. The smell still bothered him as well, and he couldn't hide it as his hand once more was lifted to cover both his nose and mouth.
"Lovino, look at our successful tactic! The whole area is destroyed! Perhaps this will be useful when war comes!"
The Southern Italian was unable to respond, his gaze still locked on the blackened bodies of what once used to be alive. His headache worsened, and this time he was certain it didn't just come from the cold. No, this was something else. Something he couldn't quite place a word on...
Guilt? No... It couldn't be that, could it? And sorrow didn't sound right, either. Whatever it was, it made his head spin. He was about to just stop and puke when he heard his brother again instead, pulling his attention away from the corpses he could no longer make faces out with. With the arms opened wide and the still same creepy smile wide on his face, Lovino was forced to listen to his brother's words.
"Look around Lovino! Look at our beautiful work!"
And that was it. Lovino finally stopped in his tracks and visibly tensed. The only real word that got to him was 'our', from that whole excited phrase. Tears instantly visibly formed in his hardened eyes, as he pulled them away to give one look around once more. All this... Right... He was part of this too, wasn't he? All the time he was saying, Feliciano was the cruel one, that his brother was the one that was massacring the lands they gained for themselves...
"...Our?" He tried to fight back before the words really sunk in, pulling his hand away from his mouth to gesture to the overall setting around them. "No, don't you fucking drag me into this shit! You caused this; you're the one that killed people, Feliciano! You're the one that destroyed the land, the plants, the people... That's not me, so don't fucking say it's 'our' work; this is your pile of dog shit!! You won't be going to heaven like this, so don't try to drag me along with you to hell!!!"
Post by Northern Italy on Feb 1, 2017 23:37:38 GMT -7
It was odd to see Lovino have tears forming in his eyes, whether if this was tears of joy or not was a mystery for Feliciano. He soon found out. One might expect the Northern Italian to react to Lovino's answer very violently mostly due to the fact that he despised the tone in Lovino's voice, yet he didn't. Instead, Feliciano started laughing a lot.
From a little chuckle to a very unsettling and loud laugh. Was Lovino serious? Did he actually just... Feliciano soon forgot all about hurrying to reach the troops, instead he continued to laugh while the Italian force started to mow down the Ethiopian defensive positions, with such an advantage in terms of military technology the Ethiopians rebels literally stood no chance whatsoever. Finally after catching his breath, he replied.
"You're right Lovino! You lack the nerve and intelligence to be capable of anything to this scale! Just be aware that the Kingdom of Italy caused this beautiful feat of military might. You amaze me though Lovino, you berate me when so many others have done exactly this, like England and France. Why is it a problem that I crush a rebellion?"
It was almost a disgrace that they were even related at all. In fact Feliciano doubted that they were related, they were just too different to compare. Perhaps it was the different ways they were brought up as children. After all, Feliciano's childhood had for most of his life been a slave to Austria ever since the conclusion of the Italian wars. Forced work, lack of edible food, beatings for any North Italian rebellion and being forced to wear dresses for some reason was from what he had heard, a far cry from Lovino's time with Spain. Whatever the reason for their differences, Feliciano didn't care. Italy was run Mussolini's way and that was it, however Feliciano would always remain loyal to the King of Italy, no matter what.
"Are you even a descendant of Nonno, Lovino? Or did he find you in a forest somewhere? Is it because you lack the strength to kill others? How cowardly... Nonno would be shaking his head in shame."
Post by Southern Italy on Feb 3, 2017 4:10:24 GMT -7
The small chuckles that erupted from the younger Italian made Lovino visibly tense in both confusion and caution; he was used to his brother's outbursts by this point, but it was never something he could bring himself to relax about. Feliciano could snap at any point, and exactly when and how was always at random, unexpected for Lovino. Pain from the bruises that painted his tanned skin both under his uniform and in clear view for others to see began aching, reminding him and giving him the flashbacks of the times his brother seemed to have suddenly snapped as well in the recent past. And because of the dumb economic crises, the healing process of a nation he used to have was definitely not doing it's job as quick as it used to. A single bruise that used to only take a day or two to fade away now took weeks, sometimes even months. For that reason alone, he rather avoided getting more before several were added upon to join... And this resulted with the Southern Italian hesitantly take a step back when the laughs became loud. He swore, he was feeling as if he was talking to a maniac.
By the time his brother stopped laughing, Lovino found himself unable to pull his eyes away from him. The troops that were mowing down the Ethiopian rebels were nowhere in his sight anymore. The one he called his brother, Feliciano, was not Feliciano anymore. It was some sociopath that wore his brother's mask and lived to make his life a living hell. Lovino's hand gripped at the gun that he still held with him. If danger seriously came to him... He could use the gun. Sure he wouldn't ever think of shooting his brother, but if it could be of some distraction--
"You're right Lovino! You lack the nerve and intelligence to be capable of anything to this scale! Just be aware that the Kingdom of Italy caused this beautiful feat of military might. You amaze me though Lovino, you berate me when so many others have done exactly this, like England and France. Why is it a problem that I crush a rebellion?"
That was enough to make the elder brother bite at his lower lip. He wasn't sure what the correct answer would be in terms of fighting back with his brother, to try and wake him up of his own corrupted mind. After some thought, the first thing he was able to yell back to the younger Italian nation was blurted out, "The problem is, you aren't them! Just because the Catipillar-brows and Snail-slurper does it doesn't mean you should, too, as--"
"Are you even a descendant of Nonno, Lovino? Or did he find you in a forest somewhere? Is it because you lack the strength to kill others? How cowardly... Nonno would be shaking his head in shame."
"..."
Lovino froze when he was interrupted from his argument, his wet eyes still wide, though now for a different reason. It was more or less still shock, but not at the situation anymore. The mere fact that Feliciano would even think of bringing Nonno Rome into this argument was... Disgusting. And very, very, unfair. And what made it worse was, he couldn't think of an argument to counter back to the insults.
He knew Nonno wouldn't be proud of him, he never was. It was always Feliciano this, Feliciano that, Feliciano first. But being reminded of that by the very person his grandfather adored was... It was painful. There was no other word for it; it felt as if an emotional knife was repeatedly stabbing at him with the words alone. The mental image of the great ex-empire shaking his head in shame in disapproval made Lovino swallow slowly. He gave a mental prayer in silence before glaring at the monstrosity in front of him that threw the very insult to him.
"...I'm done." He growled, throwing his hand up in dismissal. "Nonno has nothing to do with this, and you have no need to bring him into this conversation. And you know damn well I'm related to him--More than you are, in fact. The goddamn heart of him is still in my territory. If anything, you're the one that would be questionable whether you are related to him or not." He finally turned, beginning to walk away, up the way out the valley. "So screw your ass... I am done with this shit."
Post by Northern Italy on Feb 5, 2017 22:38:04 GMT -7
Feliciano had to agree with Lovino that his origins were much more questionable than the elder Italian's. He probably wouldn't be surprised or insulted if it turned out he was more closely related to the Celts, Etruscans or Germanic peoples than that of the Romans. Lovino was probably more related to Greece and Era as siblings more than he was with Feliciano!
So in reality the younger of the Italians probably had been the one to have been adopted by Rome. After all, Lovino did look much more like Nonno and the city was in the Mezzogiorno... But that only gave Feliciano more ammunition to fire back at his dear brother. He followed Lovino out of the valley just as the last of the rebels were being killed without mercy or were lucky enough to flee from the Italian army.
"Heh, then isn't it more saddening? The fact that you, with more relation to Nonno than I... Turned out to be a disgrace. What are you good for Lovino? Nothing! All you are is nothing more than a parasite that is incapable of surviving yourself. You have always needed others to help you survive because you yourself are pathetic... You were probably a liability to Nonno and Antonio!"
He knew how much it hurt when he dared talk about Lovino's dear Antonio. His Southern counterpart protested many times when Feliciano took the war in Spain in his own hands. With immense Italian support to the Nationalists, that could almost be considered a full scale invasion of Spain, he and Germany made the nation fascist.
Feliciano knew of Lovino's bitterness after this event and he decided to make it worse... Antonio owed Feliciano 80 million lira and the Northern Italian was getting quite impatient. If Feliciano didn't have all the money by 1949... Perhaps an invasion of Spain could speed things along? The Spanish economy and military was practically crippled, so victory shouldn't be too hard.
"Antonio must truly hate you Lovino. You ruined his economy, you ruined his life and you even killed his civilians... That's so... sick. And after everything he's done for you..."
Feliciano knew for a fact that he did such deeds. However making Lovino feel guilty for what the Kingdom of Italy did, just amused the younger Italian. How long would it take Lovino to snap? He knew Antonio meant much more than Nonno did to Lovino, but what if he started bringing Spain into this...
Hopefully not long, Feliciano would get bored of this game...
Last Edit: Feb 5, 2017 22:39:53 GMT -7 by Northern Italy
Post by Southern Italy on Feb 8, 2017 8:06:21 GMT -7
Lovino wanted to be left alone.
He should've assumed Feliciano wouldn't have allowed such peace, but it was one he would've loved to wished for. As he made his way out the valley with his brother behind continuing the babble on, he tried to block out the words, and for a breif moment he was succeeding. He tried to think of anything other than the current situation he was in, being taunted on by his corrupt brother. His focus was put on anything and everything; the way he assumed he would have to find ways to sent assistance this way once he returned back to Italy, how he still had to meet up with Greece to make sure he too was at least breathing, how he would have to try to provide crops in the farmlands for the civilians to eat... Trying to plan out anything was better than listening to the Northern Italian.
But in reality, it wasn't as easy as he would've wished it to be. Despite his efforts, Lovino found himself flinching and tensing at the words his brother spat out; he knew how to push his buttons. And like a toddler, he continued on doing so, as if just waiting for his reaction to either snap or to be able to keep his cool. The elder Italian tried to keep at the latter option, taking deep breaths slowly from his nose and letting them out his mouth.
Keep calm, keep calm, keep calm...
The mental charm rang in his head as he resisted the urge to suddenly turn and punch the other in the face, until Antonio's name brought up, and Lovino's expression hardened in an instant. The grip he had on his weapon tightened just that much more at the simple mention of the Spanish nation, and suddenly, everything else he was trying to use as a distraction faded off from his mind. The realm the two were in suddenly just seemed to fall into a pitch darkness of nothing but the very words spoken by the younger Italian.
"Shut up!!"
It was only after the comments of him ruining all that was Antonio's did Lovino finally lose it. He turned swiftly and pointed the gun to his brother, aiming for his head. He pulled the trigger without second thought, only watching as the bullet hit nothing, flying right past his brother's shoulder, leaving the younger unharmed. Well... that didn't exactly go as planned, but Lovino tried to play it off as if it did.
"You need to shut the hell up, Feliciano." He growled, trying to conceal the tremble in his voice and failing rather miserably, "Stop bringing in shit that has nothing to do with this. All you just said... That was you. I didn't do any of that, either. You're the one who ruined Antonio's economy... His life... I tried to stop you, and you just went off and did it anyway. Don't you fucking say it was me after all I said in an attempt to stop your actions. I... It wasn't me. So shut the fuck up, or next, I will shoot your brainless head right off."
Post by Northern Italy on Feb 9, 2017 4:31:54 GMT -7
Tormenting Lovino was an easier task than he had expected. The mere mention of Antonio and the suffering that Feliciano and Ludwig and inflicted upon the Spaniard set his elder brother off edge. It saddened Feliciano, the way Lovino reacted. Before Mussolini happened, Lovino would probably have never cared if someone was bad mouthing Feliciano right in front of Lovino.
To see him act so angry at the mere mention of Antonio, seriously made him wonder if he really was no different than a stranger to the Southern Italian. Then again, for most of their lives they barely even talked to one another unless Antonio decided to visit Roderich or vice versa.
That was when what Lovino did next was equally shocking. The shot echoed and time seemed to slow down, nothing else mattered at this moment. Although the shot missed, the two could feel as if something had terrible had impacted on their relationship. The soldiers, tanks, generals, they were all in the background far away, the brothers both stared at each other as Lovino shouted at Feliciano.
However, the elder Italian's words didn't seem to register in Feliciano's mind. Lovino had tried to... The Northern Italian tried to put all the pieces together, as if they were solving a very complicated puzzle that formed in their mind. Had he let Lovino have to much freedom? Was this an indicator that he could be dealing with a plot to overthrow the empire, that he had made through extreme bloodshed? Did Lovino even love him anymore?
Feliciano always considered his orders apart of his job, but was he doing something wrong? His brother kept telling him that Mussolini was insane, but for some reason Feliciano couldn't bring himself to such a conclusion, he had done so much for them, the least Feliciano could do was follow orders... After all, the fascists told him while he was getting use to the idea of being much more violent than usual, that he was helping the people of Italy...
Lovino wanted their country to fail, was he siding with the communists? Perhaps he should put Lovino back in his place: To be seen, but not heard. Soon the younger Italian's pleasant mood shifted to confusion and from confusion it went to rage... Intense rage. Bowing his head, letting the sun helmet cover his eyes, he waited patiently until Lovino had finished his outburst. Feliciano was no longer smiling, Lovino could no longer see the younger Italian's eyes but their mouth, which was fixed in a very serious expression.
For a minute none of them moved or said a thing...
Before Feliciano broke the deafening silence with a disturbing voice...
"Mi dispiace, Lovino"*
And without a word more, he looked up at Lovino coldly, before firing at Lovino's legs with his machine gun...
