Antonio is a feared pirate captain, and he takes advantage of that to have whatever he wants. And when he happens across merchant ships, that’s when he resupplies. But this ship happens to have very little goods, mumch to Antonio’s irritation. He demands that Romulus give him something else as payment, and to his surprise, is given the merchant’s oldest grandson, who couldn’t be more than 20 years old. He smirks as he grabs Lovino’s arm and pulls him back to his own ship.
Gilbert was cursed as a child to have wings, wings that he’d have to hide in his day to day living. Luckily, they fold pretty small when he needs them to, but sometimes they just hurt so much that he has to spread them. It happened when his friend was over, and so, he excused himself to his room to stretch them for a few moments. His wings are white, and can stretch across the entire room if he isn’t careful. He sighs in relief as he flutters them, trying to dislodge the bent feather causing him pain. He knocks over a vase and a few pictures, making quite the crash. He looks up in horror as his door is opened, staring Lovino in the eyes.
I'm an Italian chick so I don't think I can speak for US politic, but I'm Leftist and I enjoy all the content of your blog. You're respectful & don't just pander to whatever opinion even if it comes from 'your side' which I really appreciate. Plus you seem to spot trolls which isn't exactly a given w/ anti-sjws. Called myself a spaghettiself pizzasexual & they all blasted me on FB w/o realising I was trolling. Amazing brah. Great content, keep it up!!
"My king, do not fret for there will be no one else I would rather die for.”
Antonio looks down at Lovino, holding his head a little higher. He supposes he should be scared, having had no royal training before his father and brother both died, leaving the throne to him. He nods at Lovino, the other’s confidence in him bringing confidence to himself. “Thank you, Lovino.” They had been friends when Antonio was little and was allowed to play with the servants. He pats the less cushioned chair beside him. “It is expected of me to find someone to marry now.”
✂(idk can we do an rp of the before he dies? If that's chill)
It was an accident.
Well, maybe that wasn’t quite true. Antonio had been increasingly on edge lately, something to do with some perceived invisible threat that made little sense to anyone but himself: so he stopped explaining it. The nightmares were the worst, and sometimes he would wake up and not know whether he was awake or still dreaming, whether the Darkness was still there looming when he opened his eyes.
He slept with the lights on. He slept with a knife under his pillow.
He never should’ve started drinking again.
He’d been in the throes of a particularly violent and terrible nightmare when Lovino came into the room.
Gilbert flops into the grass after a particularly exhausting soccer practice. He pants softly, face flushed red. He’s too tired, maybe. He slowly pushes himself into a sitting position. “Hey Lovi! Come help a fella out, huh?” He asks, flopping back into the grass.
Pizzagender is the most delicious gender, though some might argue that title belongs to Burritogender. Most pizzagenders are toppingfluid and willing to compromise to reach the shared goal of Pizzasexuality (the phrase “we can go half and half” is quite common).
Had someone told Lutz two years ago that he’d be breaking into a stranger’s house to avoid getting his brains eaten by zombies - or whatever it was those rotten flesh monsters did to their victims - he would have laughed wholeheartedly. Not at the “breaking into a stranger’s house” part. The German had a bit of a history of breaking and entering on top of many other minor crimes. But zombies? When he’d first heard about it over the news, he had thought it was ridiculous, and even when he first saw them with his own eyes he was convinced it was some kind of sick joke. But after nearly being killed by them, and barely getting away, Lutz was now convinced that they were real and he was determined to survive.
Getting out of the cities had been his first priority. Any infection - or whatever it was that had caused this epidemic - would spread much faster with the denser populations, so he made his way out to the countryside. For a while he had hidden out in a small shed, but he needed to get supplies, so now he was going from house to house taking what he needed and disposing of any zombies that got in his way.
As he was rooting through the pantry for all the non-perishable food he could find, he heard the floorboards of the old house creak. He had become more than a little paranoid since most of the country had turned into zombies, so naturally he crept towards the noise, shotgun in his hands and a USP handgun in his back pocket. Jumping out into the hallway where he had thought he’d heard the noise, he levelled his gun and yelled, “Who’s there? I warn you, I’m armed!”
"Nonno?" Romano called as he ran over to his grandfather and tugged on his toga. "Nonnooooo" the child whined as he tried to get the empire's attention (I'm sorry I saw you did Rome and wanted to rp chibi Roma and Rome ;-; )
(( No need to apologize, this sounds great! ^w^ ))
Romulus looked down at his grandson and tilted his head, kneeling down to look at him, “Yes? What is it, Lovino?” he asked with a kind smile, “Is everything okay?”
Lovino looked around the area he was in confused. It was now dark and he had lost his nonno. The child was only around 7 so this had always been a fear for him. He let out a tiny hiccup then sat on the floor and started to cry "n-nonno come back" he cried, there was no response which causes him to cry even louder (I hope this starter is ok)
Artie peered around the far corner at the crying child; he was on his way to the kitchen when he heard Lovino, deciding he’d have to help before the place closes. Child or not, this was a bad place to be in the dark. He slowly walked over to his side and gave a little wave hello. “I’d be glad to help you out…“
Portugal sat among his crowd int he bar, laughing amongst themselves. It was a good night thus far. Hell him and his friends had the whole city to themselves as far as he could tell. Sure there was a stray pack or loner they took care of every so often, like they had done tonight… But otherwise it was peaceful for them. He didn’t have to worry about having to hurry home, or that something would come into this dingy place for a brawl- or at least he thought so before the doors were pushed open. You could smell one of those mangy mutts miles away, he’d swear his life on it.