to where the sun is silent
[There is a Spain standing in one of the kitchens, washing up plates from the dinner he'd just had in his home world, seeming just as oblivious as anyone else (especially Spain) who'd been brought without them knowing it.]
[He sets the current dish in the rack and reaches for the next, humming a certain song that had been playing on his kitchen radio, that he hasn't noticed has stopped.]
{ooc: "Yandere" or, well, more so dark Spain here. He's a bit manic depressive and highly religious (though I am not Catholic so if I don't do my research right just tell me and I'll do my best to fix it.) Modern day, his birthday just passed... he should be as happy as can be.}
[He sets the current dish in the rack and reaches for the next, humming a certain song that had been playing on his kitchen radio, that he hasn't noticed has stopped.]
{ooc: "Yandere" or, well, more so dark Spain here. He's a bit manic depressive and highly religious (though I am not Catholic so if I don't do my research right just tell me and I'll do my best to fix it.) Modern day, his birthday just passed... he should be as happy as can be.}