Maybe she can be quadrupolar.
/shot
TwilightDragon Member
Dragon of the Night Sky
STATUS: Sorry for my absence. I'm back now but I go under a new name, Ambra. If you wanna RP with me again just search me up! 11 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 3 yrs ago
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 3795 (0.83 / day)
- VMs: 1
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Username history
- TwilightDragon 12 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
11 yrs ago
Current
Sorry for my absence. I'm back now but I go under a new name, Ambra. If you wanna RP with me again just search me up!
11 yrs ago
Doge~
11 yrs ago
Nevermind.
11 yrs ago
I'm back~
11 yrs ago
Sigh
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Most Recent Posts
LOOK WHO I GOT, GAIZ.
And sure lol.
And sure lol.
It's alright. :3
Erm... alright then... I think.
Okay. :3
Can someone post?
IGNORE THIS
How he hated the cold. He hated the icy winds and the chills that ran up and down his spine when the breeze found its way through his coat and jacket. Summer had just started in America and he was in no mood to face up to the freezing temperatures of Denmark. While he wanted nothing more than to skip the meeting and go back home, he knew that he couldn't. The blond couldn't skip any meetings these days. Many things could happen in his presence; he could have made himself an enemy to someone without even realizing it until a while later, or there could be important news updates that he simply had to hear. The United States of America, however, did not want to witness the start of another war. He had been in many battles- too many, he might add. His body was littered with fading and fresh scars, and every single one brought back bad memories.
America sighed, watching his breath puff out in front of him. The dark brown woolen coat protected him from most of the cold, and his hood was trimmed with fur, so he could pull it over his head if he got a bit too irritated with the wind. In his hands was an ordinary cup of coffee, something that he couldn't live without. Sometimes he would go to meetings with a cup of tea, but that was only when he found himself in a good mood. No, he needed energy. Something big was about to go down and he had to be awake.
He travelled down the street a few more feet until his eyes of azure glanced upwards to see a large, historic looking building. He walked up to the door and pushed it open, relieved to feel a blast of warm air hit him as he strode inside. What would he do without a thermostat? America experienced a variety of temperatures throughout the year, but he lived in New York City, where winters were long and harsh and summers were brisk and warm. While he wished that he could enjoy a few more months of summer, America decided that his home was definitely in New York- no where else.
He made his way to the meeting hall, where he saw Denmark and Iceland. America offered them one of his trademark smiles in greeting. "How's everybody doin'?" he asked rather loudly. "It sure is cold outside, isn't it?"
The silver haired man, however, was quite accustomed to the weather in Denmark. After all, he was the owner of the coldest place on Earth, which was Siberia, and all of his country was constantly in winter time. Russia didn't mind the wind or the cold weather- it was a chilly day for him at the most. His green eyes flicked up and down the street, a smile curling upon his lips as he hummed a song under his breath. The enormous man was not afraid to see the other nations, even if they met each other with bared fangs and unsheathed claws. Then again, what was he afraid of? Many people called him an old bear, being an older nation and all. But Russia knew that bears weren't one to be scared. He was... wary, to say the least. He was only wary of the actual Superpowers- the smaller countries yelping for war could go to hell.
Then again, he couldn't say that he wasn't itching for the sound of war. Life was boring, and Russia didn't feel like sitting around on his ass all day. Maybe he could toy with America and Britain today, and maybe some of the smaller countries, too. They were bossing him around too much, especially since the end of the war in the Middle East. Hell, they even placed sanctions on him before the Middle East had destroyed itself. I couldn't even do what I wanted with my own sister. his gloved hands clenched as he stared ahead.
The meeting hall was larger than he remembered... but when was the last time that he had come here? Probably around 2012... or maybe 2013... that was too long ago. He had better things to think about than the last time he had been in Copenhagen. His right hand pushed against the door, opening it ever so slightly. His emerald eyes flicked over his shoulder as he searched for any other nation that might be down the street. But, seeing no one familiar, he entered the building and walked down the hall. Voices could be heard from the meeting hall- America and Denmark were two of them... but the third was hard to place. Maybe it was Finland? Sweden? He didn't know, but he would know as soon as he got to the meeting room.
Russia peeked into the room, smiling at the host. The giant of a man stepped inside and dipped his head in greeting. "Privet," he said in a sing song voice. And with that, he picked a seat and sat down. He was sure that this meeting would be interesting.
It's nice out today.
The German nation did not enjoy the sweltering heat nor the bitter cold, and Denmark was neither of those things. At least, it wasn't in his opinion. To him, the nation was a tad bit chilly, but he wasn't about to complain. What he did complain about, however, were the winters that came with unusual amounts of heat. They had hit his nation quite a few times already, and Germany was quite sick of it. He would put away his fan for the winter season and then he would have to plug it back in in the middle of January. He hoped that this winter would bring a sufficient amount of snow, so that one could enjoy the season while it lasted.
Germany trotted down the streets, not a hair out of place, as he searched for the building where the meeting would be held. He wasn't late, but then again, he wasn't early. And he hated that. He was usually the first one there and the last one to leave. Germany was, in other terms, the general peace-keeper of the group. He would stop at nothing to make sure that no country would aim their guns or blades at each other, and so far, his tactics worked. But worry plagued him as he tried to sleep. His strategy worked, yes, but nations grew more and more tense with each other every meeting. Something told him that he should start picking sides, but he really didn't want to. Germany was no longer into pointing a barrel at another country.
Sighing, Germany ran a hand through his hair, glancing around the streets. Where was this building? For some reason, he couldn't find it. And when he couldn't find something, he began to get frustrated. He was already late in being early, and that pissed him off. The building had to be on the street he was on... oh. There it was. The German man allowed a relieved look to come over his face, and ran up to the door, shoving it open with his shoulder. He briskly walked down the hall and to the meeting room, where he found Denmark, Iceland, America, and Russia. Now, if America was there before him, then he was really late.
"Guten tag." Germany greeted, his voice friendly but his expression distant and disconnected like always.
COLD!
It was so cold. So very cold. Her skin was flushed and rough with goosebumps, and her nose was already running. Her fingers and cheeks were burning with the freezing temperature. Let's just say that South Italy was in a worse mood than usual. Then, when was she ever in a better mood? It was almost pitiful, seeing the small country- or part of a country, to be more specific -trembling in the middle of Copenhagen, Denmark. She was lost, alone, and believe it or not, afraid. She had no idea where her little sibling was, and since North Italy attended most of the meetings, she really didn't know what she was supposed to be looking for.
Damn it, North... why couldn't you have come at the same time with me? No, why couldn't you have come and I have stayed in Tuscany or whatever! Oh right... It was because of the mafia, right? They were acting up recently, and she knew that she really shouldn't be left alone. Yet, why couldn't she have gone to a warmer country than Denmark-?!
"Why is it always me that has to suffer?!" South Italy cried, her face one of anger and frustration. She always had to be the one that did all of the hard work, right? Her sibling sure as hell didn't have a farm on his land, and while they was the [somewhat] stronger sibling, they did much less work than her. Her amber eyes shot daggers down the street, a scowl beginning to show on her face. Her coat and scarf did nothing to protect her from the cold, she was hungry, and she was lost. Oh wait... wasn't that the building right there?
South growled under her breath, running toward the building and shoving the door aside after some effort. The building was warm, which cheered her up. Somewhat. The Italian woman huffed, walking to the meeting room and taking a seat without so much as a hello.
America sighed, watching his breath puff out in front of him. The dark brown woolen coat protected him from most of the cold, and his hood was trimmed with fur, so he could pull it over his head if he got a bit too irritated with the wind. In his hands was an ordinary cup of coffee, something that he couldn't live without. Sometimes he would go to meetings with a cup of tea, but that was only when he found himself in a good mood. No, he needed energy. Something big was about to go down and he had to be awake.
He travelled down the street a few more feet until his eyes of azure glanced upwards to see a large, historic looking building. He walked up to the door and pushed it open, relieved to feel a blast of warm air hit him as he strode inside. What would he do without a thermostat? America experienced a variety of temperatures throughout the year, but he lived in New York City, where winters were long and harsh and summers were brisk and warm. While he wished that he could enjoy a few more months of summer, America decided that his home was definitely in New York- no where else.
He made his way to the meeting hall, where he saw Denmark and Iceland. America offered them one of his trademark smiles in greeting. "How's everybody doin'?" he asked rather loudly. "It sure is cold outside, isn't it?"
The silver haired man, however, was quite accustomed to the weather in Denmark. After all, he was the owner of the coldest place on Earth, which was Siberia, and all of his country was constantly in winter time. Russia didn't mind the wind or the cold weather- it was a chilly day for him at the most. His green eyes flicked up and down the street, a smile curling upon his lips as he hummed a song under his breath. The enormous man was not afraid to see the other nations, even if they met each other with bared fangs and unsheathed claws. Then again, what was he afraid of? Many people called him an old bear, being an older nation and all. But Russia knew that bears weren't one to be scared. He was... wary, to say the least. He was only wary of the actual Superpowers- the smaller countries yelping for war could go to hell.
Then again, he couldn't say that he wasn't itching for the sound of war. Life was boring, and Russia didn't feel like sitting around on his ass all day. Maybe he could toy with America and Britain today, and maybe some of the smaller countries, too. They were bossing him around too much, especially since the end of the war in the Middle East. Hell, they even placed sanctions on him before the Middle East had destroyed itself. I couldn't even do what I wanted with my own sister. his gloved hands clenched as he stared ahead.
The meeting hall was larger than he remembered... but when was the last time that he had come here? Probably around 2012... or maybe 2013... that was too long ago. He had better things to think about than the last time he had been in Copenhagen. His right hand pushed against the door, opening it ever so slightly. His emerald eyes flicked over his shoulder as he searched for any other nation that might be down the street. But, seeing no one familiar, he entered the building and walked down the hall. Voices could be heard from the meeting hall- America and Denmark were two of them... but the third was hard to place. Maybe it was Finland? Sweden? He didn't know, but he would know as soon as he got to the meeting room.
Russia peeked into the room, smiling at the host. The giant of a man stepped inside and dipped his head in greeting. "Privet," he said in a sing song voice. And with that, he picked a seat and sat down. He was sure that this meeting would be interesting.
It's nice out today.
The German nation did not enjoy the sweltering heat nor the bitter cold, and Denmark was neither of those things. At least, it wasn't in his opinion. To him, the nation was a tad bit chilly, but he wasn't about to complain. What he did complain about, however, were the winters that came with unusual amounts of heat. They had hit his nation quite a few times already, and Germany was quite sick of it. He would put away his fan for the winter season and then he would have to plug it back in in the middle of January. He hoped that this winter would bring a sufficient amount of snow, so that one could enjoy the season while it lasted.
Germany trotted down the streets, not a hair out of place, as he searched for the building where the meeting would be held. He wasn't late, but then again, he wasn't early. And he hated that. He was usually the first one there and the last one to leave. Germany was, in other terms, the general peace-keeper of the group. He would stop at nothing to make sure that no country would aim their guns or blades at each other, and so far, his tactics worked. But worry plagued him as he tried to sleep. His strategy worked, yes, but nations grew more and more tense with each other every meeting. Something told him that he should start picking sides, but he really didn't want to. Germany was no longer into pointing a barrel at another country.
Sighing, Germany ran a hand through his hair, glancing around the streets. Where was this building? For some reason, he couldn't find it. And when he couldn't find something, he began to get frustrated. He was already late in being early, and that pissed him off. The building had to be on the street he was on... oh. There it was. The German man allowed a relieved look to come over his face, and ran up to the door, shoving it open with his shoulder. He briskly walked down the hall and to the meeting room, where he found Denmark, Iceland, America, and Russia. Now, if America was there before him, then he was really late.
"Guten tag." Germany greeted, his voice friendly but his expression distant and disconnected like always.
COLD!
It was so cold. So very cold. Her skin was flushed and rough with goosebumps, and her nose was already running. Her fingers and cheeks were burning with the freezing temperature. Let's just say that South Italy was in a worse mood than usual. Then, when was she ever in a better mood? It was almost pitiful, seeing the small country- or part of a country, to be more specific -trembling in the middle of Copenhagen, Denmark. She was lost, alone, and believe it or not, afraid. She had no idea where her little sibling was, and since North Italy attended most of the meetings, she really didn't know what she was supposed to be looking for.
Damn it, North... why couldn't you have come at the same time with me? No, why couldn't you have come and I have stayed in Tuscany or whatever! Oh right... It was because of the mafia, right? They were acting up recently, and she knew that she really shouldn't be left alone. Yet, why couldn't she have gone to a warmer country than Denmark-?!
"Why is it always me that has to suffer?!" South Italy cried, her face one of anger and frustration. She always had to be the one that did all of the hard work, right? Her sibling sure as hell didn't have a farm on his land, and while they was the [somewhat] stronger sibling, they did much less work than her. Her amber eyes shot daggers down the street, a scowl beginning to show on her face. Her coat and scarf did nothing to protect her from the cold, she was hungry, and she was lost. Oh wait... wasn't that the building right there?
South growled under her breath, running toward the building and shoving the door aside after some effort. The building was warm, which cheered her up. Somewhat. The Italian woman huffed, walking to the meeting room and taking a seat without so much as a hello.
Hmmm. Maybe a counter attack? IDK.
Username: Dragon
Country Name: United States of America (more commonly America)
Human Name: Christopher Smith
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Birthday: July 4th, 1775
Appearance: A rather handsome young man, America stands at five feet and nine inches and weighs in at about 175 pounds.
Personality: If one wants to be straightforward, America is a loud, rambunctious, and selfish party goer who cares about nothing else than his own well-being. He is a two-faced liar who pokes his nose into other people’s business and will gladly shoot someone down if they get in his way. He seems this way to people who don’t know him well- to his friends, he is loud and rambunctious and selfish and a liar and all of that good stuff, but he’s a loyal ally and a strong one, at that. While he may seem a little dense and extremely stubborn, all America wants is to keep the ones close to him safe and sound. Though, he goes about this the wrong way, putting himself into wars and battles left and right. With enemies, he is cold, distant, and merciless.
Believe it or not, America wants nothing more than to be a peaceful nation and keep out of war for a century or two. However, he has made too many enemies and believes that it really is too late to be at peace for long.
Weaknesses: Stubborn, ignorant, and rash.
Strengths: Physically strong and loyal.
Likes: Coffee, country sides, relaxing, video games, summer, lazing around, fast food, Britain, Japan, fishing, hiking, camping, soccer, football, good food, anime, manga, horses, and his birthday.
Dislikes: Britain, France, trying to eat healthy, going outside in the winter, people who try to boss him around, scary movies, people who beat him and think are better than him, people who are unjust, his Bosses, the cold, failing at something, and people who try and ruin his fun.
Other: "S'up, yo?" Has a bald eagle that, at times, lands on his head. Though the eagle is not his pet, America treats him as one, and has named him Jett.
Username: Dragon
Country Name: Russia
Human Name: Alexi Yezhov
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Birthday: 862- Exact birthday is unknown, but earliest records of an exact date is January 16th.
Appearance: A silver haired young man with a long, thin braid that reaches the bottom of his back, Russia stands at a whopping six feet and seven inches. He is thin, but broad shouldered, and his arms seem like they could carry two grown men at a time. A long scar runs across the ridge of his nose and over his right eye. His vision is somewhat weak in that eye, but he isn't bothered by it at all.
Personality: Russia is a quiet nation who prefers to study his enemies before he attacks them. An extremely dangerous man, no one really knows what's going on in his mind. A trigger happy drunkard, Russia wants to be acknowledged as a strong nation like he should be. Russia is cold and distant toward enemies, only staring at them until they decide to shut up and get out of his way, or stop breathing altogether. He is friendly toward those he deems to be friends and allies, often visiting their homes to spend time with them or inviting them over to his own country. He loves warm countries the most.
Weaknesses: A bit too hostile, extremely stubborn and aggressive.
Strengths: Extremely strong and usually wins in whatever squabble he gets into.
Likes: Vodka, warmth, friends, spending time with other nations, nations who respect and admire him.
Dislikes: the cold, being alone, nations who don't respect him, nations who don't mind their own business and don't let him do what he wants.
Other: "Mm, I really want to go somewhere warm..."
Username: Dragon
Country Name: Germany
Human Name: Daniel Schwartz
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Birthday: February 2nd, 962
Appearance: Germany stands at five feet and ten inches. He is considerably fit and his body is built for stamina and strength. His hair is a dark blond [having gotten darker since WWII] and his eyes are a deep blue. He always tries to maintain a calm or deadpan expression in order to appear educated and trustworthy.
Personality: Germany is booksmart, but isn't exactly streetsmart. He doesn't know how to crack a joke or laugh at them, for that matter. He usually likes to stay quiet and drink a beer or four at home. Germany likes to keep to himself and not cause arguments due to the fact that he believes people still hate him for WWII. An extremely patient man, he accepts everyone for who they are, even if they are annoying as hell. Even Germany's patience wears thin at times, and in order to tranquilize a fight or squall that has lasted for too long, he won't hesitate to go on a yelling spree.
Weaknesses: Land is vulnerable to invasion, finds it difficult to make friends, and likes to be by himself.
Strengths: Physically strong and is healthier than most other nations due to his economy.
Likes: Wurst, beer, and other German food, Oktoberfest, Italy, Japan, and their culture, reading, dogs, cool temperatures, hunting, pine forests, nature, snow, autumn, spending time alone.
Dislikes: Hot temperatures, spending too long indoors, people who mention WWII or the Holocaust in other ways than honoring the victims, having nothing to do, irrational nations who care about no one else but themselves.
Other: "Will everyone just shut up and listen?!"
Username: Dragon
Country Name: Southern Italy [South Italy or just South]
Human Name: Natalia Basile
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Birthday: March 17th
Appearance: Southern Italy is, in simple terms, a very beautiful young woman. She is a short and slender woman with a very European look to her. Her slightly wavy and auburn colored hair reaches down to the middle of her back if it is not kept tied up in a taut bun atop her head. A long curl that is much like her sibling's pokes out from in between her reddish brown locks. Her eyes greatly resemble the shade of a bright and orange autumn leaf, and her dark skin is smooth looking and soft. Her torso has an hourglass shape, even though she doesn't have much of a bust. When she is wearing thick clothes, she looks very much like a man.
Personality: South's personality greatly contradicts her gorgeous appearance. She is lazy, inconsiderate, and very rude. A very weak nation, South Italy would rather flee from war than actually pick up a gun and shoot it. Even though she is lousy, South Italy adores and protects her younger sibling whenever she can. If someone places a hand on North Italy, she flies into a frenzy.
South Italy also has a very shady part to her personality. Having been part of the mafia ever since they began, she could be considered untrustworthy and dangerous. But when one sees South Italy bowing at your feet for mercy, those presumptions just fade away.
South Italy is the true epitome of a Renaissance person- she can sing, dance, play instruments, and paint much like her sibling, but she often resides in their shadow.
Weaknesses: Weak, untrustworthy, and inconsiderate.
Strengths: Very artistic and an excellent spy.
Likes: Tomatoes, pizza, well seasoned food, art, music, farms, oceans, being acknowledged, her sibling, warmth, dancing.
Dislikes: Germany, Japan, and anyone else who befriends Northern Italy, Spain, France, big and scary nations, war, people who don't respect her, being useless, the mafia, and the cold.
Other: "Go away you bastard!"
Country Name: United States of America (more commonly America)
Human Name: Christopher Smith
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Birthday: July 4th, 1775
Appearance: A rather handsome young man, America stands at five feet and nine inches and weighs in at about 175 pounds.
Personality: If one wants to be straightforward, America is a loud, rambunctious, and selfish party goer who cares about nothing else than his own well-being. He is a two-faced liar who pokes his nose into other people’s business and will gladly shoot someone down if they get in his way. He seems this way to people who don’t know him well- to his friends, he is loud and rambunctious and selfish and a liar and all of that good stuff, but he’s a loyal ally and a strong one, at that. While he may seem a little dense and extremely stubborn, all America wants is to keep the ones close to him safe and sound. Though, he goes about this the wrong way, putting himself into wars and battles left and right. With enemies, he is cold, distant, and merciless.
Believe it or not, America wants nothing more than to be a peaceful nation and keep out of war for a century or two. However, he has made too many enemies and believes that it really is too late to be at peace for long.
Weaknesses: Stubborn, ignorant, and rash.
Strengths: Physically strong and loyal.
Likes: Coffee, country sides, relaxing, video games, summer, lazing around, fast food, Britain, Japan, fishing, hiking, camping, soccer, football, good food, anime, manga, horses, and his birthday.
Dislikes: Britain, France, trying to eat healthy, going outside in the winter, people who try to boss him around, scary movies, people who beat him and think are better than him, people who are unjust, his Bosses, the cold, failing at something, and people who try and ruin his fun.
Other: "S'up, yo?" Has a bald eagle that, at times, lands on his head. Though the eagle is not his pet, America treats him as one, and has named him Jett.
Username: Dragon
Country Name: Russia
Human Name: Alexi Yezhov
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Birthday: 862- Exact birthday is unknown, but earliest records of an exact date is January 16th.
Appearance: A silver haired young man with a long, thin braid that reaches the bottom of his back, Russia stands at a whopping six feet and seven inches. He is thin, but broad shouldered, and his arms seem like they could carry two grown men at a time. A long scar runs across the ridge of his nose and over his right eye. His vision is somewhat weak in that eye, but he isn't bothered by it at all.
Personality: Russia is a quiet nation who prefers to study his enemies before he attacks them. An extremely dangerous man, no one really knows what's going on in his mind. A trigger happy drunkard, Russia wants to be acknowledged as a strong nation like he should be. Russia is cold and distant toward enemies, only staring at them until they decide to shut up and get out of his way, or stop breathing altogether. He is friendly toward those he deems to be friends and allies, often visiting their homes to spend time with them or inviting them over to his own country. He loves warm countries the most.
Weaknesses: A bit too hostile, extremely stubborn and aggressive.
Strengths: Extremely strong and usually wins in whatever squabble he gets into.
Likes: Vodka, warmth, friends, spending time with other nations, nations who respect and admire him.
Dislikes: the cold, being alone, nations who don't respect him, nations who don't mind their own business and don't let him do what he wants.
Other: "Mm, I really want to go somewhere warm..."
Username: Dragon
Country Name: Germany
Human Name: Daniel Schwartz
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Birthday: February 2nd, 962
Appearance: Germany stands at five feet and ten inches. He is considerably fit and his body is built for stamina and strength. His hair is a dark blond [having gotten darker since WWII] and his eyes are a deep blue. He always tries to maintain a calm or deadpan expression in order to appear educated and trustworthy.
Personality: Germany is booksmart, but isn't exactly streetsmart. He doesn't know how to crack a joke or laugh at them, for that matter. He usually likes to stay quiet and drink a beer or four at home. Germany likes to keep to himself and not cause arguments due to the fact that he believes people still hate him for WWII. An extremely patient man, he accepts everyone for who they are, even if they are annoying as hell. Even Germany's patience wears thin at times, and in order to tranquilize a fight or squall that has lasted for too long, he won't hesitate to go on a yelling spree.
Weaknesses: Land is vulnerable to invasion, finds it difficult to make friends, and likes to be by himself.
Strengths: Physically strong and is healthier than most other nations due to his economy.
Likes: Wurst, beer, and other German food, Oktoberfest, Italy, Japan, and their culture, reading, dogs, cool temperatures, hunting, pine forests, nature, snow, autumn, spending time alone.
Dislikes: Hot temperatures, spending too long indoors, people who mention WWII or the Holocaust in other ways than honoring the victims, having nothing to do, irrational nations who care about no one else but themselves.
Other: "Will everyone just shut up and listen?!"
Username: Dragon
Country Name: Southern Italy [South Italy or just South]
Human Name: Natalia Basile
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Birthday: March 17th
Appearance: Southern Italy is, in simple terms, a very beautiful young woman. She is a short and slender woman with a very European look to her. Her slightly wavy and auburn colored hair reaches down to the middle of her back if it is not kept tied up in a taut bun atop her head. A long curl that is much like her sibling's pokes out from in between her reddish brown locks. Her eyes greatly resemble the shade of a bright and orange autumn leaf, and her dark skin is smooth looking and soft. Her torso has an hourglass shape, even though she doesn't have much of a bust. When she is wearing thick clothes, she looks very much like a man.
Personality: South's personality greatly contradicts her gorgeous appearance. She is lazy, inconsiderate, and very rude. A very weak nation, South Italy would rather flee from war than actually pick up a gun and shoot it. Even though she is lousy, South Italy adores and protects her younger sibling whenever she can. If someone places a hand on North Italy, she flies into a frenzy.
South Italy also has a very shady part to her personality. Having been part of the mafia ever since they began, she could be considered untrustworthy and dangerous. But when one sees South Italy bowing at your feet for mercy, those presumptions just fade away.
South Italy is the true epitome of a Renaissance person- she can sing, dance, play instruments, and paint much like her sibling, but she often resides in their shadow.
Weaknesses: Weak, untrustworthy, and inconsiderate.
Strengths: Very artistic and an excellent spy.
Likes: Tomatoes, pizza, well seasoned food, art, music, farms, oceans, being acknowledged, her sibling, warmth, dancing.
Dislikes: Germany, Japan, and anyone else who befriends Northern Italy, Spain, France, big and scary nations, war, people who don't respect her, being useless, the mafia, and the cold.
Other: "Go away you bastard!"
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