Nun, armes Herz, vergiss der Qual!

[wacht_am_rhein]

Who: Italy/Feliciano (boilsomewater), Germany/Ludwig (wacht_am_rhein), and possibly the Awesome Nation of Prussia (hat_einen_vogel)
When: After the madness of Paranoia Week....
Where: Heading out to forage the mess hall (Cafeteria)
Summary: Three Nations walk into a bar... no wait...
Rating: PG for possible language
Warnings: Prussia cussing? Italia... being Italian? Germany... angsting

Comments

[boilsomewater]

Italy looked up from his place by his bed as Germany knocked on the door. He smiled slightly and patted Ludwig the Tribble one last time before rising to his feet, leaving his pet to sleep on his bed. If the fuzzy things even slept at all.

"Ciao, Germany!" Italy exclaimed after opening the door, throwing his arms around his ally and giving him a tight hug. Usual clingy tendencies aside, Italy thought he could use one right about now anyway, what with his brother forgetting about him and all. Italy knew he'd be upset if Romano forgot all about him...

I am SO lame & beg forgiveness... *sob!*

[wacht_am_rhein]

Germany sighed at the expected embrace and brought his arms up to hug the smaller Nation, patting Feliciano on the back awkwardly.

"There there now," he murmured, suspecting he knew the source of this hug and not sure he could handle even thinking about it. "I assume you are still hungry? We need to keep up your strength so you can train! Come--we must go to the mess hall and make do with whatever is there."

uwah, it's okay! sorry for this being a bit late too-- damn notifs not working :'|

[boilsomewater]

Italy huffed and loosened his arms, frowning slightly. He was hungry. He had been hungry every day since his arrival, even to the point were he was loosing weight. Those disgusting bar things they called food were hardly fitting for a gourmet such as himself. He'd give anything right now for a nice big plate of pasta. Any kind would do... And wine. The last time he had some of that had been at Halloween.

"Mm, I don't see how Germany expects me to train hard when all there is to eat are crappy energy bars..." Italy murmured, pouting and crossing his arms.

Not a problem! *smiles*

[wacht_am_rhein]

"Well... I suppose I can ease up on you a little..." Germany began to say, but then a notion hit him. He almost smiled. "Think of this as a chance to train for adverse circumstances!" he enthused. "What if you were captured by Russia and forced to eat nothing but crap? You'd still need to keep up your strength, right? Or--or even worse--captured by ENGLAND! Just think of what you would have to eat there!"

Ludwig shuddered. He was only occasionally a gourmet himself--saddle of venison, wild boar, oh, the good old days--but even he knew that England's food was... horrible. Probably against the Geneva Convention.

"Come along, we'll try to make the best of it. Maybe we could ask the doctors for special food for you? I hear they have granted such requests before."

[boilsomewater]

Italy turned a bit green at the memory of English food. Never again would he allow such terrible food-- if what he had been served could even be defined as that-- to pass his lips. As for Russian food-- well, he wasn't entirely sure what they ate over there anyway. He wasn't exactly in a hurry to find out either.

At Ludwig's suggestion, however, he smiled. "You really think they would do that?" He asked hopefully, prodding his fingers together. "I-- I always thought the boss people were kind of mean..."

[wacht_am_rhein]

"I think there is a good chance they would--they might request something in return, or might not. It is worth a try, don't you think?"

He held the door wide and extended a hand. "Come along now--no time like the present to get you fed. We'll plan a strategy for talking to the doctors."

Germany paused for just a brief moment. "Any... chance you've heard from Prussia? I was hoping we might run into him."