Soul Of The Matter

No one really understands Italy's dæmon. Granted, the cheery nation doesn't quite get it himself but, as most of the world council reasons, the Italians- plus the original Romans- chose a wolf as their symbol. Makes sense that Paura would be one. Sort of.

The dæmon looks up as Romano runs past with his own soul. Meridionale is a wolf, like her sister, albeit smaller and more tan. Paura's coat is nearly pure black, with only a few spots on her face and a white tip on her tail, perfect for waving in surrender.

'Where're you going?' She shouts after them, receiving no reply. 'What do think's wrong?'

Feliciano jumps slightly, having began to doze off in his chair. 'I don't know. Should we go after them?'

Paura glances down the corridor, seeing Spain rushing towards her. 'I think we're fine.' She says, as his bull dæmon rushes past, shouting for Meridionale.

Italy nods, smiling to himself and leaning back in his chair. The council is taking a twenty minute break and they can just relax until they have to go back to Germany's shouting. Paura manages to last five minutes before she gets bored and begins to swish her tail, hitting his ankles. 'Let's do something.'

'What?' Italy yawns, eyes still closed. 'What can we do?'

There is a lull of silence before they both speaking, at the same time and running off laughing. 'Pasta!'

Her form might not make sense but Paura is Italy's soul, through and through.

The younger nations freeze slightly as Germany walks into the council room, almost falling over each other to leave. Kämpfer, perched on his shoulder, bows her head slightly, feathers ruffled.

'When are they going to forget?'

Ludwig shakes his head, stroking her cheat gently. 'It's only been 10 years and we have long memories.'

The golden eagle shakes herself off, flying from his shoulder to land on one of the chairs. 'They're never going to forget, I can tell.'

Germany shrugs, sitting down opposite her. 'Maybe not, but they will forgive. England colonised America but they still get along fine.'

'Colonised, yes, not invaded or bombed.' Kämpfer scowls, looking around the empty chairs. 'Besides, they don't get along that well.'

Germany chuckles, looking over at the seats where the blond nations were sat earlier. 'They do seem to be quite vocal with their dislike, don't they.'

Kämpfer smiles despite herself. 'And then France has to get involved...'

Germany pulls a face. 'How did those three ever win a war?'

The golden eagle stares at him, struggling to speak through laughter. 'What does that say about us? We lost a war to those three!'

They both burst into uncontrollable laughter, nearly falling off their seats. They only manage to stop when Japan pokes his head im, smiling lightly.

'Ten minutes to the meeting.'

Germany nods, waving his friend off. He turns to his dæmon, smiling. 'Ich liebe dich.'

'You too, you big softie.' She smiles. 'Now lets get on with this.'

'Please calm down.'

Sairento skids to a halt, looking up at her man before going back to chase her tail. Japan rolls his eyes infinitesimally although a minuscule smile does grace his face. They have just been given the Winter Olympics, beating Europeans and North Americans, and the tanuki is too busy celebrating.

'You're embarrassing me.'

The raccoon-like-dæmon laughs, jumping around him and rolling next to his legs, obviously expecting to be scratched. 'There's no one around. I'm allowed to be happy.'

'Happy, yes.' Japan nods, kneeling down to start his finger lightly brush her fur. 'But it isn't very polite to break my office in your excitement, Sair.'

Sairento looks around the room, seeing all the objects she knocked to the ground, the cups that have shattered on the floor and the papers torn from his desk. She curls up slight, staring over her shoulder at him. 'Oops.'

He shakes his head, standing again and smoothing down his clothing. 'Yes, oops. Now we have a lot to organise, we need this room back in order.'

She giggles, rolling back onto her feet and skipping over to an ornament that hasn't smashed. 'Where do want this, o stoic one?'

Japan smirks slightly, sitting down at his desk which, thankfully, has been spared his dæmon's excitement. 'You know where it goes, Sair. Let me get on now.'

The tanuki smiles, picking things up with her mouth and giggling. She even manages to get her apparently emotionless man to smile.

Arthur hisses as he lays down on the bed, wounds of his back flaring up as he settles. He wants to curl on his side but his arm is broken and needs to be supported properly. He turns his head to face Aeliau, eyes watering as the movement hurts his neck.

'He called me small, Lia.' His voice is despondent, staring past the lioness, watching the wall with no real focus.

'He also beat the hell out of us, you twit.' The dæmon scowls, collapsed on the ground. The fight, although the other himself didn't physically hurt them has had a huge effect of them. So many of their soldiers died, or were injured, and they are feeling those wounds. Plus, several of his soldiers managed to land some shots on them.

'Eh, that'll heal.' England shrugs, wincing instantly. 'But he said I used to be great. What does that mean?'

Aeliau shakes her head, labouring to lift it to his hand. 'I don't know but I'm sure he didn't mean it. We've still got the Empire, we're still great.'

He moves his unbroken arm to stroke her fur, sighing deeply as he does so. 'I don't know. Now he's left, the others might follow.'

'I know.'

There is a silence as they both contemplate that, wondering how long it will be until they are left alone completely. They both know their little siblings don't like them.

'Arthur?'

'Yes, Aeliau?'

'I miss Alfred.'

'I know, Aeliau. I miss him too.'

'You're not listening to me!' America almost shouts, slamming his fists down on his boss' desk. 'We need to help in this war or our friends will perish!'

'I think you need your hearing checked.' The man's dæmon says, glaring at America's own. 'We have no business getting involved in a European war and that is final! Now get out!'

America storms from the room, heading back to his own house in a huff. Aantah soars above his head, ignoring the glances she gets from their people. Right now, the bald eagle is not happy.

America manages to make it back to his house before Aantah spirals at his, knocking him to the ground and scratching at his face. He lets out a yelp, trying to push her off, even though he knew it would happen.

'Stop. Aantah, it's not my fault. Stop it!'

The eagle finally stops, claws digging into his shirt and eyes feral. 'They're going to die, Freddy. Iggy and France and everyone else and we can't save them.'

He frowns, bringing a hand up to rest on her neck. 'We'll save them, I promise. We're heroes, remember?'

Aantah nods, collapsing slightly against him. 'I'm just so worried. About all of them, even the ones on the wrong side. They're supposed to be strong, to be ancient nations but the last time we saw them...'

America sighs, thinking of the bandages, casts and slings that had hidden their friends injuries. They need to join this war, soon.

'She not very impressive, is she?' The tiny blond says, tilting his face as he looks at France's dæmon. Cocotte tilts her head as well, making the child and his still changing dæmon giggle.

'That's not very nice, Matthieu.' France says, picking the boy up and tickling him. Canada begins to shriek, trying to tickle back while Oublié flies around France's head, changing form every turn.

'Especially when your own dæmon hasn't settled yet.' The Gallic rooster chuckles as Francis throws Matthieu onto the nearest sofa. 'And I'm happy with my form. One day, your people will choose a form for you and you'll have to get used to it.'

'Yeah!' Matthieu smiles, bouncing in his seat. 'Like a lion or a wolf-'

'Or a beaver!' Oublié shouts, getting herself strange looks.

France shrugs. 'A beaver is possible, ma chérie. A lion I do not expect.'

'But Mr Kirkland's dæmon is a lion!' Matthieu protests. 'Hey, can we visit Mr Kirkland, and Alfred soon. Please big brother.'

Cocotte shakes her head at his behaviour, smiling to herself. Despite Angleterre's terrible cooking, the young nation still likes visiting, probably to see his brother. 'Or maybe they can come here.'

Matthieu smiles, jumping out of his seat to play tag with Oublié. The dæmon changes to a horse and runs away, the two of them dashing out of the room. France smiles, patting Cocotte's back.

'I think you're impressive.'

The rooster preens. 'You don't have to tell me, I know I am.'

China rolls his eyes as the world council calls recess, splitting off into groups and leaving the room. They are still arguing about this country invading that country and this nation getting involved in that nation's war. The old nation rolls his eyes as the room empties, seeing his brothers bickering about something mundane.

'Children.' Gu mutters beside him, head shaking in exasperation.

'Babies, you mean.' He mutters back, one hand falling off the arm of his chair to scratch her head. The Giant Panda, a proud symbol of his country, older than any of the other dæmons in the room, lifts her head to the touch, smiling contently.

'They are so infantile that they are unreasonable.' She admits, eyes squinting as he begins to stroke her forehead. 'You have to give them that.'

'I suppose, but it's a wonder we manage to get anything done at these meeting. They're all too busy arguing.'

She tilts her head to look at him, eyes sparkling mischievously. 'And you don't? What happened with Ivan again?'

China winces. The last time he spoke to Russia, the taller nation had stuck an axe through the wall, right next to China's face. 'He overreacted, nothing to do with me.'

Gu laughs, stretching slightly and curling up beneath the table, which she can barely fit under. 'Of course, Yao. Wake me when the meeting in over.'

With that, she falls asleep, leaving her man to deal with childish nations alone. It would be a long meeting.

'Strashno? Have you seen my pickaxe?'

The Russian bear lifts her head, looking around the room and instantly wondering where her man has gone. The other G8 members will be visiting soon and he is wondering around, looking for god knows what.

'Strashno?! My pickaxe!'

Ah, that was it. She yawns, pushing herself to her feet and ambling out of the room. 'In the study, Ivan. But do you really need it?'

'Of course I do.' She starts to move toward his voice, hoping to reach the study before he does. 'I can't greet my friends without a weapon in hand.'

'Bet you can.' Strashno murmurs to herself. Aloud, she replies, 'Are you sure they'll take it okay? They only just let us in the group.'

She can hear the incredulousness in his voice. 'You don't think they'll kick me out, do you? Oh, well, if they do, at least I'll have the pickaxe.'

The bear sighs, and has to stop when she hears the doorbell. That will probably be America with his brother, wanting to be first so he can brag about it to England and France. They will arrive together, bickering as usual, with Germany and Italy just behind, discussing Italy's abysmal fighting skills. Despite being among the nearest, Japan will be last, bearing some kind of give and polite apology for being late, despite being exactly on time.

'Ivan! Guests!' She shouts, ambling towards the door.

'Make them wait!' He shouts back. 'I can't find my pickaxe!'