Re: Uncle Italia e Uncle Spagna [3/?]
anonymous
May 13 2009, 00:43:55 UTC
Once the group reached the kitchen, Spain took Veneziano’s pasta making supplies and told the young Nations to sit at the table and get to know each other. America and Canada sat on one side of the table, Veneziano and Romano sat on the other side, and the four just stared at each other. Spain would turn around occasionally from the sauce he was making, say “So cute,” and then turn back, but not one word was said at the table for a few minutes. Finally, America broke the silence. “So, um, do you normally carry around food?”
Italy Veneziano grinned at America and nodded. “Ve~ Of course! Who knows when you’ll be stuck somewhere without pasta? It would be horrible! Isn’t it horrible when you’re out of pasta, brother?” He turned to Romano who ignored him. The colonies gave each other a look and a silent agreement that Veneziano was probably a little crazy was passed between them.
“So, are you two twins?” Romano asked suddenly, causing Spain to turn around and shoot him a smile for trying.
Again, the colonies looked at each other before shrugging. “I don’t know,” America said. “We have the same face but we don’t know.” He looked ready to say more, but Canada decided to speak up. “Are you three really related to France? You don’t look alike…at all.” This caused the two Italies to look at each other, that fact not having dawned on them before.
It was Spain who answered with a laugh as he placed a plate of pasta in front of each of the young Nations. “He is our brother. We just like to think he’s special.” He took a seat in between the two pairs of brothers and smiled, enjoying how Veneziano and Romano had started right in at the pasta. The smile faded, however, when he noticed that America and Canada were picking at their plate. “Is something wrong?”
America picked up a noodle, giving it an odd look. “What is it? They look like worms.” Canada looked like he was trying to suppress a laugh as he hit America in the arm. “America, just try it. It can’t be worse than escargot…or England’s cooking,” He muttered, both of them shuddering at the cooking attempts of their ‘fathers.’ “Seriously, they both need to learn how to cook normal foods,” America said in response before shoving a bite of pasta in his mouth at the same time as Canada.
Spain smiled at their brotherly banter, giving another “So cute,” as he watched them eat their first bite of pasta. “It’s called pasta, America. The noodles are made from dough that consists of flour, water, and eggs, and is boiled until it’s soft. It’s typically served with a type of sauce, and since he’s in such a bad mood, I made Romano’s favorite sauce so hopefully he’ll start acting cute again.” A muffled sound that sounded oddly like, “Shut up bastard,” came from the older Italian who currently had a mouthful of pasta. “Romano, don’t talk with your mouth full. That’s so not cute, and watch your language around the kids,” Spain chided, but was met with a sound of dismissal. “So not cute,” He muttered into his own pasta.
Italy Veneziano grinned at America and nodded. “Ve~ Of course! Who knows when you’ll be stuck somewhere without pasta? It would be horrible! Isn’t it horrible when you’re out of pasta, brother?” He turned to Romano who ignored him. The colonies gave each other a look and a silent agreement that Veneziano was probably a little crazy was passed between them.
“So, are you two twins?” Romano asked suddenly, causing Spain to turn around and shoot him a smile for trying.
Again, the colonies looked at each other before shrugging. “I don’t know,” America said. “We have the same face but we don’t know.” He looked ready to say more, but Canada decided to speak up. “Are you three really related to France? You don’t look alike…at all.” This caused the two Italies to look at each other, that fact not having dawned on them before.
It was Spain who answered with a laugh as he placed a plate of pasta in front of each of the young Nations. “He is our brother. We just like to think he’s special.” He took a seat in between the two pairs of brothers and smiled, enjoying how Veneziano and Romano had started right in at the pasta. The smile faded, however, when he noticed that America and Canada were picking at their plate. “Is something wrong?”
America picked up a noodle, giving it an odd look. “What is it? They look like worms.” Canada looked like he was trying to suppress a laugh as he hit America in the arm. “America, just try it. It can’t be worse than escargot…or England’s cooking,” He muttered, both of them shuddering at the cooking attempts of their ‘fathers.’ “Seriously, they both need to learn how to cook normal foods,” America said in response before shoving a bite of pasta in his mouth at the same time as Canada.
Spain smiled at their brotherly banter, giving another “So cute,” as he watched them eat their first bite of pasta. “It’s called pasta, America. The noodles are made from dough that consists of flour, water, and eggs, and is boiled until it’s soft. It’s typically served with a type of sauce, and since he’s in such a bad mood, I made Romano’s favorite sauce so hopefully he’ll start acting cute again.” A muffled sound that sounded oddly like, “Shut up bastard,” came from the older Italian who currently had a mouthful of pasta. “Romano, don’t talk with your mouth full. That’s so not cute, and watch your language around the kids,” Spain chided, but was met with a sound of dismissal. “So not cute,” He muttered into his own pasta.
Reply
Leave a comment