...I DON'T EVEN KNOW. NEW THREAD? ;w;

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

The year was 2098. And the world was a total wreck.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

Global warming had taken over, and the world began to transform into a tropical paradise.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

Europe only scarcely remained; and all the island-nations were almost completely wiped out.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

The United Kingdom? Japan? Italy? Seychelles? Costa Rica? They all didn't exist anymore.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

Most of the coast-lines of all the nations were underwater.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

It was a new era. An era that had been born from misery. It was an era that would be the most memorable.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

The personifications of the nations who had survived were in utter turmoil. There wasn't a single nation not suffering from the effects of global warming.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

The ice and snow filled countries were suffering from flooding.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

The hot, arid, dry nations were unbearable to live in; the temperatures raising well above 100 degrees Fahrenheit..... in the winter.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

Antarctica had become a vital place for research to go on; and people who originally lived in the far north began to move there. The weather was still cold, as they were all used to; although it was quickly breaking off stray ice, melting, and becoming a lot more hot then usual.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

The few world meetings that did happen now seemed so empty. The air was practically unbearable. It was so tense, and practically every nation had lost one of their loved ones.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

It just wasn't the same as it used to be.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

They would give anything for it to be how it was back 90 or so years ago. Back when America had the brilliant idea of building a giant superhero who could protect the Earth from global warming. Back when they were allowed to suggest such idiotic ideas.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

Right now, they would even attempt to give England, Norway, and Romania's magic a shot at stopping global warming. Except for the fact that the United Kingdom's country was completely underwater, and that Norway was almost underwater. Romania as well wasn't in the greatest shape either; his coast line flooded.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

There was something the currently existing nations didn't know, though.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

They didn't know that....

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

....That the personifications of the dead nations were still alive.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

When a nation goes underwater from the effects of global warming, they don't necessarily die.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

They are in a state in which they don't remember anything about being a nation. They are practically human; except for the fact that they still have their nation immortality. They are scattered all over the world, in places that never go underwater during global warming. It is vital that they never find out they are personifications of these nations until the time has come for their nation to rise out of the water yet again.

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

If they do happen to find out before the right time...

Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump. Bu-Bump.

Who knows what kind of disasters could happen.



(( AND THAT, MI AMIGAS/AMIGOS, IS THE STARTING POINT OF THIS NEW THREAD. WILL PEOPLE ACTUALLY JOIN...? OR NO, LIKE EVERY OTHER THREAD HERE..... OTL. ;A; ))

(( NO DELETING. OK, now I'll just edit my post and make it an actual post. 8D *cough* ))

Spain adjusted his straw hat, which protected his darkened face from the scorching sun. The sun seemed larger than it usually was, and Spain suspected that was the cause of this disaster. He turned his head to the ocean, where Portugal should be. His land was gone, completely wiped out by the rising waters, and so were the Italies... Spain's head angled downward, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, and he shook his head slightly. Spain's own country was nearly completely drowned under water itself, but it left him in a very poor state. The shadow of the great tree he had decided to shelter was slowly shifting direction, and he moved to stay under the cooling shade, it was still terribly hot but it helped.

He couldn't just sit there all day of course, he had to do something eventually. He pushed himself up from the ground, because he was sitting there even though I didn't already type it down earlier and I don't feel like changing it 8D /shot... He began to walk off into the sunset in a random direction, to see if he could find anyone, and not after long did he see a silhouette and he walked toward it, to see not one but two people, arguing by a food stand.

(DUDE. THIS IS GENIU.S.)

(( I need to post in this 8'D ))

(( O-OK... I WON'T DELETE IT, THEN. ))

Arthur was arguing with a familiar Southern Italian at a food stand in Spain. With one hand on his hip, and the other pointing irritatedly at the Italian, he argued, "The price for these blasted tomatoes is a complete rip-off! No one in this day and age can pay THIS much for just a -THE BRITISH ARE COMING THE BRITISH ARE COMING- tomato right now!!!" Arthur scowled. This was an outrage! He had to pay way too much, for just a simple TOMATO! He didn't notice a vaguely familiar figure wearing a straw hat in the distance, and continued to fight with Lovino.

"Romano~! England~!" he said, with more relief than he intended. "You're OK!" He grinned, and hugged Romano.
"What are you guys doing here?" he asked, curious as he took a vine of grapes from the stand, and starting to eat the dry, green grapes without paying.

As the Spaniard hugged the Italian, the British man raised an eyebrow. "Who the -THE BRITISH ARE COMING THE BRITISH ARE COMING- heck are you, and why are you talking to me? Lovino, do you know him?"Arthur hadn't really heard the Spaniard call him 'England', or call Lovino 'Romano', thankfully, but a confused expression was etched onto his face. "Anyways, stop talking to me! I'm not going to give you any blasted money to pay for those grapes; now get back to the streets or wherever you -THE BRITISH ARE COMING THE BRITISH ARE COMING- came from!" He knew it was a bit rude to address the stranger like that; but fruit nowadays was expensive! Especially so at Lovino's food stand! So Arthur was DEFINITELY not going to pay.

"Hey, get over it MY BELOVED! These are one of a kind Tomatoes!! Y'know how rare tomatoes are nowadays. The SMEXIFUL sun ruins them all in a matter of hours now!! They dry up like a raisin so if you're not gonna pay. GET THE *SPARKLEYPOO* OUT." He remarked back at the annoying British man when he was suddenly hugged by a Spaniard "THE HELL..." He looked at Spain before grinning slightly "No i don't know this asshole at all!" He replied to England before continuing to watch over his food stand and wait for Britain to leave.

Spain blinked. "Are you guys OK?" he asked, pulling another grape from the vine and plopping it into his mouth, " Oh! I know! You guys are playing some kind of game! OK, I'll play along~! Who are you two?"

(( Short post is short. 8D ))

Arthur scoffs at Lovino. "WELL EXCUUUUUSSEEE ME, PRINCESS. TOMATOES SHOULD BE DIRT CHEAP AND YOU KNOW IT. CHEAPSKATE."

The Englishman looked at the Spaniard like he was crazy, but answered his question; with an edge of irritation. "Game? Who are you -THE BRITISH ARE COMING THE BRITISH ARE COMING- kidding? Anyways, the name is Arthur Kirkland! Now get the -THE BRITISH ARE COMING THE BRITISH ARE COMING- heck away from me!"

He had no recollection of the scars on his wrists and his arms. He could not remember how he managed to obtain marks along his back that resembled a terrible, grosteque formation of scars in the shape of a fishes tail. Sometimes when he raised his arms to heft up a plank or a sizeable piece of logs, one of the marks of his shoulder blade would burn. It was the most recent. It would sieze up and after he managed to drop whatever he carried safely without damaging either the house or himself, he curled up and waited for the pain to subside. The ice floes were late again this year - he had no recollection of the icy tundras that his mind formed, but he knew that this place should be covered in snow and unbearable freezing temperatures. Glaciers shouldn't be reduced to ice the size of his palm. The sea levels had risen and in this new world, he had no recollection of the one that used to be. The only images of it came into his mind; battles of odd soldiers with horns on their helmets and heavy fur coats weilding axes, cities with buildings that reached towards the sky high enough to touch Asgarde. And a set of people that he had no memory of - but every time he woke up from a dream of their fair blond hair and their mostly stoic faces, he was in tears. One of them stood in his mind the most. The one whp was the only girl of them, with a cross on her hair. He missed them, and he had no idea of who they were.

(( Ehe. I'll just jump in. *hides in the corner* ))

Alina walked up to the stand, money jingling in her pocket. "I want a tomato." she said, pulling the money out her pocket. When she noticed who was around her she smiled, thankful for seeing the other nations that she hadn't seen since the land started flooding and nations started disappearing. "Antonio, Lovino, Arthur. I haven't seen you guys in forever!" she said, still remembering everyone clearly though nearly all of her land was underwater.

Feliciano jumped out from behind the counter of the food stand, he just woke up from his siesta, but he was able to hear Alina's request. "OK~." he chimed, and handed Alina the tomato, taking the money she offered in exchange. He counted the money to see if she payed the correct amount, and surely she did. He looked at the others who came by, and did not recognize.
"I'm Feliciano~! It's nice to meet you guys~, ve~!" he says.

Arthur took a step back, slightly started when Feliciano had jumped up out of seemingly nowhere. Composing himself, he looked towards Alina. Did he know her...? She didn't seem like she was Italian, either, so she shouldn't know Lovino or Feliciano. And was the Spaniard's name 'Antonio'..? Gah, this was irritating. The only one he truly knew out of everyone was Lovino, and that was only because they were constantly fighting at his food stand. Why couldn't the man sell scones instead of tomatoes......
Arthur gave a confused look to the woman. "Pardon me, lass, but do I know you from somewhere?"

Romano looked at Alina, confused. Sure, he was messing with Spain about forgetting about him but he seriously had no idea who this new chick was. Then he glanced at Veneziano immediately recognizing him since that's his brother afterall. "FRATELLO, Where have you been?! I've been stuck here trying to sell these damn tomatoes to this annoying British Asshole for hours now" He commented even though he was obviously exaggerating. Or was he~

"Of course. You guys are nations. Remember?" she asked, looking at them with a confused look.

"Nations?" He scoffed, looking at Alina like she was crazy. "What the -THE BRITISH ARE COMING THE BRITISH ARE COMING- heck are you drinking, lass? Whatever it is, I want some. BI *shot* Nations? That's a load o' rubbish! You're off your rocker!"

Nations..... It wasn't possible for someone to be a nation, right? Nations were just pieces of land! ....Right? Arthur considered the possibility for a moment, when pictures of people he could've sworn he'd never seen before hit his mind. His hands instinctively were brought up to his head, as he tried to block these strange memories out. His head hurt severely from them, and they were of no use to him. They should all go away! There was a slight part of him that wanted to grasp onto the memories, but he ignored the wanting and continued to block them out.

Arthur bit his lip. The pain just continued to increase, as the word 'nations' echoed through his mind. He got strange looks from all that passed by, but at the moment could care less. Why wouldn't this absolutely horrid headache go away? He groaned, before reaching into his leather pouch he had slinging over his shoulders, and grabbing an advil. Medicine these days were seldom ever in the hands of normal people; he was one of the lucky ones who had a bottle or two of some of the most vital medicines. Arthur plopped the pill into his mouth, taking a bite of a tomato from the stand to swallow it down with.

After a few minutes, his headache began to recede. He sighed in relief; the pain had previously gotten to the point to be almost unbearable. His curiosity got the better of him though, and he couldn't help but wonder why, all of a sudden, his head had hurt so badly? After a moment, he brushed off the contemplating of the situation in his mind.

Arthur then gave Lovino a look like 'This woman here be CAH-RAZ-Y bro. Watch out."

Spain looked at N. Italy and smiled. "Oh Italy~! You're here too~!" He chirped. He finished his vine of grapes and took a tomato off the counter of the food stand, and began to eat that as well.
"Alina is right~. We're all nations~. I'm Spain, you're Southern Italy, you're Northern Italy, you're Transylvania, Romania, and you're England~." he said, pointing to each person who corresponded with his words, as he named them off. Then he noticed that England was suddenly in pain. He wasn't sure why or course, maybe a headache?
"Hey England?" Are you OK?" he asked, not really sure what else to do.

Her breathing was heavy, and she had a horrid headache. Isolated from the rest of the world, Norway laid on her bed; not wanting to move. Her country was almost completely flooded; only the people who lived in the mountainous areas were alive and even then, they were seldom. Most of the population had drowned or starved. Helene's body ached all over, and her eyes were starting to glaze over; she could hardly even see anymore. Her ribs were highly visible, and all she seemed to be was skin and bones. She just wanted this torture to be over. Why couldn't it be over and done with? The time was ticking by. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. The pain she had was insufferable. She'd lost the slight gleam in her eyes a while ago.

She usually would have been strong, even through this. Helene wasn't one to give up easily. She would be yelling at Denmark all the same, telling him to stop being an idiot and help her and the rest of the Nordics get to a place of safety in this hazardous time period. She would be getting her brother to give her a piece of licorice that he would've stashed away. Except there was one small thing that differentiated this situation from the one at present. Iceland and Denmark's countries were completely underwater. Emil and Søren were both dead.

The people closest to the Norwegian woman were dead. There was always Sverige and Finland, but the two of them were up in the mountains of Sweden somewhere, taking refuge from this horrid disaster dubbed 'Global Warming'. Even if she had the strength to visit them via boat, she couldn't. The two countries were isolated from the other because of the horrendous flooding.

Helene's eyes drifted to the window. Outside, the valley was beginning to flood. Soon, in a matter of a few days, it would reach the area where her small log cabin was. Then, she would finally die. To die... Such a lovely thought for her. She'd been through too much pain, too much hardship. Her body was in a constant state of pain, worse than what she'd ever experienced. She was both mentally and physically exhausted.

Her eyes closed, and she curled up into a fetal position as she tried to get to sleep for at least a few minutes. She'd been suffering from insomnia as of late, and it was all because of them. The last phone call. The announcement on the television.

--

The telephone rang throughout the home. Helene groaned. Was the Dane calling /again/? She could have sworn, he called her three times a day. She reached towards the phone, saying with a nonchalant tone, "What do you want now?"

She heard a "Goodbye, Norge." from the other line.

Denmark's phone had been cut off.

Helene was slightly unnerved, but she brushed it off, thinking he was just pulling her leg. Just a practical joke. Right...?

The Norwegian woman pressed the power button to the television, and dropped the cellphone that was in her hand. The country of Denmark was completely underwater.

--

A week later, she got her annual call from her brother. She was still a bit mentally unstable thanks to Søren's death, but she answered the call from Emil anyways.

They were just talking normally, though there was something... off, about her brother. He had called her big sister dear about 5 times, first off. Then, he went off to say things like 'I'm glad I met you.' He ended this call with the words, "I love you, sister. Goodbye."

At first, Norway didn't suspect much. She thought that the hard times were getting to him. She made a mental note in her head to ask him to fly over to where she lived and come stay with her before his little island country drowned.

It was too late, though.

The country of Iceland was completely underwater.

--

((DEPRESSING POSTS ARE MY FAVORITE. 8D ))

The people knew that they would be underwater soon.

Still, they built. What else was there to do? They gathered rotted wood, stones that looked as though they could fall apart, and tried to put distance between the tops of the valleys hill and the ocean that seemed to rise higher every day. He didn't remember much. When the people found him, they thought that he was there to help - his body looked as though he had gotten out of the disaster untouched. The only marks that were on him were scars that he couldn't remember their origins and callouses on his hands. But he could offer no help. The only things he knew were what he could do with his hands and the words on his lips - his past had disappeared. When he slept, he dreamed of vast tundras and worlds of white. He dreamed of four other people, the people that were so diverse from these refugees around him that mingled and rebuilt their town on the peak of a mountainous hill. One was taller than him, and in those dreams, he remembered the affection that he had for one of the smallest of the four. For some reason, he disliked him - but loved him at the same time. Among those four, there was one that stuck in his mind the most; she had blond hair, and a barrette that looked like the cross of the flag in the land that he has stayed in.
It was one of those dreams that brought him to the bottom of the valley. Down here, the land was surreal - he could only smell the sea, but he could not catch one thread of it in sight. He flexed his jaw to rid his ears of a pressured feeling, and he walked. There was a cabin just a little bit away - maybe he could sleep inside.

The tears streaked down Armenia's cheeks. Her entire face was raw from her tears. She wiped at her eyes. Ever since this...disaster began she hadn't been able to sleep at all, much less think clearly. Naturally, since her land was close to the sea, she was becoming quite famished and unsteady. She could barely take care of her own people now. It was times like these that Armenia wished she could talk to someone, anyone.

Then she remembered the true horror. They were all gone. All of them. She had no-one she could turn to. No-one. Fresh tears formed at the corners of her chocolate brown eyes. She missed them. Georgia's constant nagging, though he was always like a brother to her. Azerbaijan's constant pestering, even that would be refreshing. Greece and his abnormal love for cats, who was also like a brother to her. And then there was Turkey. Armenia had held a deathly grudge towards Turkey ever since the Armenian Genocide. But still, even now... She missed that cocky grin of his, the way he would always dismiss her grudge. She missed him. She missed them all so much. Turkey had inevitably been flooded over. Georgia had been destroyed by earthquakes. Greece had been flooded as well. And Azerbaijan...well, she wasn't sure what happened to him, but she never saw him anymore. Her head fell into her hands. She hadn't felt this alone since the Genocide, but even then Russia was there to support her. But now...

Armenia curled up from the fetal position she was in, glinting at the rays of sunlight. She stared blankly out of the window, eyes glancing over the city of Yerevan; her land's capitol. She already knew the impending doom that was upon her people. Turkey had been flooded, his land overflowed by tidal waves. She knew that she was next. It was only a matter of time now. The worst part was there was absolutely nothing she could do, except wait. There was no way she could help her people.

Suddenly Armenia was startled from her thoughts. Sounds of panic rose from the city of Yerevan. People in the streets began to run to and fro in utter panic. Cars crashed and swerved. Families clung onto each-other for dear life. She stared at it with unwavering eyes. It was finally here. The huge tidal wave loomed over the highest towers in her city. She sucked in a deep breath, it was time. She opened the window, letting the smell of the salty ocean waves infiltrate her nostrils. Even the air seemed salty now. The waves came crashing, destroying buildings and streets as it went. For a split second she wanted to run. To run and scream and call for help. Though, she knew no-one would come to help her; she was a mere insignificant Middle-Eastern country, in the eyes of the World she mattered little. This was her fate; to die here; to die alone. Feeling strangely content, she sucked in a deep breath closing her eyes. Her hair whipped around her as the wave drew nearer. Her ears were deafened with its enormity. Muttering a quick prayer, she held her arms around herself. Then the waves crashed into the building, and all was black. Armenia was gone.

~~~~~~~~

Alisia Arabian awoke slowly, a fierce pain flaring through her head like something from a bad dream. She rubbed at her temples. Her brown hair mas matted and tattered, and she felt no better than she looked. Peering around with groggy eyes, she found herself in a city she didn't recognize. She scratched at her head. "Gee...must have been a bad shipwreck for me to wind up all the way out here. I don't even know where this place is...." Deciding she shouldn't doddle long, Alisia picked herself up, trying to take in her new surroundings. She didn't recognize anything about this place. She had no money on her to make matters worse. How was she supposed to find food? Shelter? Where was she supposed to go now.

Alisia was snapped out of her thoughts when she collided with something, falling back on her rear. She then realized that it wasn't something, but someone. The young man had tousled blonde hair and sharp green eyes. He seemed oddly familiar to her, with his distinct British accent; like something out of a dream. She rubbed at her aching temples again, not bothering to hoist herself up. "I'm sorry about that sir, I wasn't watching where I was going..."

"Get away from me, you're -THE BRITISH ARE COMING THE BRITISH ARE COMING- insane!" He retorted, giving a glare to the Spaniard. England!? The man was obviously not right in the head. Something was bugging him, though... As if what the Spaniard was saying actually made sense.... Before he put any further thought into the subject, someone bumped into him.

He opened his mouth to yell at the person, but once his eyes recognized the figure as a woman; his gentleman side kicked in. Mind you, he was still a bit grumpy, but the woman seemed to be as worse off and confused as he was. He warily held out his hand, silently offering to help her up. She looked... oddly familiar. That's it; he decided in his mind. He was going to leave Italy sooner than later; these people were giving him more headaches then he could handle, and the advil he had was the last of what he had seen in ages. Not only did they all look familiar and bring deja vu, half of them were insane in the head! Maybe he would go over to Austria; he heard that the people there were still half-decent sanity-wise.

"Hmph. I suppose it's fine. Watch where you are going, next time, though."

She nodded her head quickly. She graciously took the Englishman's hand, hauling herself up. Now that she was eye-level with him she could get a better look at him. Now her head was really spinning. He looked strikingly familiar, but for the life of her she couldn't place where-from. Glancing around she noticed an also familiar looking Italian, well two actually. They looked like twins. Her mind strained as her eyes fell on a rather cheerful Spaniard, his green eyes glowering. It was like a bad high school reunion where you recognized some faces but couldn't place names to go with them. Her brown eyes then fell on a young woman with long brown hair, who of course was also very familiar.

She shook her head to herself. There was no way that she knew all these people. She must have been delusional from the shipwreck she had come from, that was all. Scratching the back of her head, she couldn't help but try and ease her curiosity. "Um sir," she addressed the British man, "you look oddly familiar. Forgive me if I seem rude, but, have we met before?" She chuckled nervously. He would most likely brand her as a fool and rub her off. Even so, that feeling of Deja Vu wasn't easing in the slightest. She had to try something.

Arthur's eye twitched ever so slightly. Why did every single blasted person ask if he knew them!? For goodness sake, he wasn't a blasted native to Italy; nor was he from Spain, or any country in the immediate area! But the girl seemed just as confused as he was; perhaps she wasn't crazy like the rest of them?

"I... I'm honestly not all that sure, lass," he said truthfully. "For some -THE BRITISH ARE COMING THE BRITISH ARE COMING- odd reason, I'm getting the same feeling. I hate this blasted country; everyone here whom I run into I have the feeling as if I've met them before!"

He sighed, annoyed. "I've got nothing against you, don't get me wrong, but the others here are... rather queer, I should say. Weird in the head."

She raised her eyebrow. "Really, this is Italy then?" She glanced around, noting that this place look as trashed as everywhere else. These natural disasters were no joke, they were affecting just about every country on the planet, even here.

She turned her attention back to the annoyed Brit. "That is strange. I suppose this could all be a coincidence but...." she scratched at her head nervously, "I can't shake that feeling either." She paused taking in the other "strangers" that were watching them. She glanced back to the Englishman. "Queer? They haven't been thinking that they've seen you somewhere before as well, have they? This could mean something. Or they really could be crazy." She paused, waving nervously at the others before her. She held her hand out to the Brit then. "Whether or not we've met before, my name is Alisia Arabian. It's nice to meet you sir." She smiled warmly, hoping she wasn't seeming too awkward.