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germany (nyotalia)

01 ★

[One hundred and sixty six. One hundred and sixty seven. One hundred and sixty eight. The rhythmic tip-tap of shoes against the cobbled floor barely echoed among the noise of the courtyard of birds--sometimes students, too--overhead, and those calling to one another. Germany's rope slapped against the floor occasionally as she skipped for the past hour. Her uniform was abandoned not far, discarded after-hours for ease of practice.

Her back was starting to ache, however. She'd never felt the strain of her figure before arriving her. Now her back ached liberally with exerted effort. If anything was an incentive to get out of here and where she belonged, getting rid of back ache was a good one as any.]

One hundred and seventy. One hundred and seventy one. [She muttered to herself, resisting the urge to wipe her damp fringe off her forehead. Perhaps she could get two hours out of this before figuring out what to do about food for the evening.

The thought was just about distracting her from those who stared as she exercised.]

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[She just happened to wander into the courtyard herself when she caught sight of someone very familiar. England froze on the spot, clutching her broom to her chest and- for just a few silent moments- staring.

History aside, a view's a view.]

One hundred eighty-- [Not much is said to rattle Germany's nerves, but she did skid to halt, skipping on leg for a few moments before getting her balance.]

I should have known. [Who else would be at school for magic but a witch? Never mind Germany was just told she was a magician herself.]

[Well, that tone is enough to snap her out of her appreciation. England glares at the other nation, placing her hands on her hips.] Should have known what? What on Earth are you doing here? You don't do magic! You barely even believe!

Was it you? Did you bring me here? [There was no looking menacing with a skipping rope in hand, and the other hand on a hip.] You of all people would know I have better things to do than learn parlor tricks.

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[Zhang Liao had just finished his usual exercises of the day and was rounding off his training with a run around the academy. The physical ache he was feeling both surprised and shamed him; he hadn't struggled with his drills since he was a private in the army, but with his Qi blocked he couldn't access any of the strength he normally had. He was suspicious that more than his Qi was gone, that the forces that had brought him here had stolen more of his power than he had originally realised, but there was no use complaining and moping. Besides, the repetitive motions here comforting in a strange way; going about his daily routine, albeit with lower stamina and endurance than before, he could establish a sense of normalcy and slowly ease into life at Magnoshutatt.

A stab at his side brought him out of his musings and he silently cursed the bastards who had sought to torture him by bringing him to the Academy in such a weakened state.

His own footsteps established a rhythmic pattern as he pushed himself forward, determined to return home at any costs. It was as he passed a courtyard that he happened to glance up and notice another woman, carrying out a strange exercise with a piece of rope. Curious, he slowed down to a jog on the spot to watch; skipping has yet to be invented in 2nd century China]

Two hundred. [Germany declared with satisfaction, relaxing her knees as she stopped ever so slightly before reaching to brush her short hair away from her face. She had time, perhaps, for another two hundreds before heading back inside.

Patting her pants for her water thermos, she groaned as the empty pocket reminded her it was yet another thing that was left at home. The gesture was distracting for a moment until her attention alighted on someone watching her. Germany nodded at the man in acknowledgment.]

[He nodded back; he's not sure which salute to use with this woman, so this simple gesture will have to suffice for now. After a few days at the academy he's starting to learn more about the different cultures and he's come to realise that not everything as it seems. He's gotten off on the wrong foot with some other students and has been reprimanded for it, to his shame and shock. It would be better to take things slowly, learn more about her (and the exercise she was carrying out) so he could figure out the correct way of addressing her.

Stopping his jog for the time being, he brought his hands together and made a simple salute. Not deep enough for respect, but polite enough for new company. Perhaps a bit too much respect for a woman, but with her build and the fact that she was carrying out training, he wouldn't be surprised if she turned out to be another one on the martial path.]

Pardon me for interrupting your training, my Lady.

Not at all. You approached just as my round was over. I'm merely resting. [The other students had kept an arm's length between classes and after hours, not that it was a source of any particular grief to Germany. She found it made going about her day a more practical and productive affair. Still, the gesture of acknowledgment was comforting.]

I apologize you had to see me in less than my usual form, and under-dressed, as well.

Sorry, I'll try to reduce the tl;dr

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It's alright!

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Oh my god! [Once he saw her, Poland didn't waste a moment. Sayaka had said she was here, he just hadn't seen her himself yet. He sprints across the courtyard, waving at her enthusiastically.

There was only one person he knew with such cute blond short hair and a figure like that.]

Ukraine!

[That did cause Germany to stumble over her own rope, taking a moment to right herself. It was true the past day had taken a toll on her, what with losing her strength, but that was uncalled for.]

What was that, little man?!

[Wait.

That did not sound like Ukraine.

Actually Poland had no idea who that sounded like.]

[Poland skids to a stop in front of her, paling considerably.

S-stranger! She's a total stranger!]

[Germany's anger took over her customary bashfulness, punctuated by hands on her waist as she leaned closer.] Do I look to you a man in any shape or form? That was rather improper!

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[He knew it was rude, but there was something so vaguely familiar about her. Latvia couldn't quite put his finger on it but it didn't stop him from trying to work it out. Was she someone from his country? No, he'd definitely be able to tell... Maybe someone he met in Magnoshutatt? Maybe, but he was pretty good at remembering the people he met here. Either way he watched her from over the top of his book, a primer on strength magic (that he hoped would start making sense of these powers he didn't know how to control) and kept staring, occasionally ducking out of sight if he thought he made eye contact]

[The looks were hardly distracting, furtive as they were, until Germany reached the end of her first round. She relaxed her limbs, foot shuffling against the floor while she waited for the young man to say something. She hated the loss of that particular ability to recognize her own people here, as likely they would be here as that.

She held the boy's eye at last when she caught him staring, bring a fist to her mouth to cough pointedly.]

[With a small squeak he ducked down behind his book. It was rude to stare at ladies, of course she would be angry. It's not like he could deny it though, she'd clearly seen him. Carefully peering from over the pages Latvia finally brought the book down enough to uncover his mouth and finally speak, albeit quietly]

I'm sorry for staring, I thought you might be someone I know...

You tend to see familiar faces when you feel homesick, I suppose.

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[The upside of this is that it isn't Ottoman, that would have been even more awkward. The downside is that it is a middle power, and one more with the wrong sex (and most likely gender).

Kiwi will just linger on the spot a bit, unsurel if to approach the other nation or turn and walk away before the woman spots the teenager in the shadow of the wall.]

[ooc: Me and England-mun agreed that NZ looks the same in Hetalia and Nyotalia, so Germany wouldn't notice that it isn't "her" NZ unless their worlds come up in the conversation.]

[Germany punctuated the end of the bout with a decisive thud against the cobbled stone floor and an exasperated sigh. She had been able to block most of the attention out, brief as it was, but several people just stayed there more than what could be comfortable.]

Can I help you-- Oh...

I wouldn't have expected you to be here.

Really?

[On the other hand, who says that Germany is even from a time when the middle powers exist... Sure, there isn't that many options because the other nation is so young, but that doesn't tell Kiwi if the woman is from the past or future or really the war. Maybe the blond will give it away on her own without asking, so waiting for a bit while trying to not get on certain topics might be helpful.]

With how many nations there are here, I'd be more surprised to not meet everyone eventually.

Did they honestly decide to hoard the lot of us here away from actual work? There is a war going on. [not for everyone, not that Germany knows that yet.]

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Oh wow. Jumping rope. That's classic!

[Roy's comment is in the vein of a professional seeing someone employ a time-honored if somewhat nostalgic technique in his chosen field, and being delighted at the fact.]

Uh, thank you? [She doesn't stop, somehow maintaining a puzzled frown while managing to keep skipping to a perfect two hundred, before pausing to wipe the sweat off her forehead.] It's good for you.

It's just been forever since I saw it. [Still smiling, he lifts a hand in an apologetic gesture.] Sorry, it's just kind of nostalgic. It's nice to see someone who doesn't think it's just for kids.

Not at all. It's an extremely useful tool. [She bends down to hand him the rope by the handle to try.]

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