[So Romano's been feeling some of those Holiday blues on top of the crap he's had to deal with in the tower. Now, he sees people talking about celebrating and trying to have fun and...well. He wants that too, even if he doesn't know how to ask to be invited.]

How many of you bastards have Holiday plans?

[ Well jingle my bells, friendly patrons of the Tower -- it seems like Francis is having himself one of those moments where he steps within two feet of a computer terminal, which really, is quite rare and for good reason. Did you miss him making an ass of himself? I know you did, and so does he, which is why when the feed buzzes into life you'll see him.

A lit cigarette in one hand and a snifler of some alcoholic variety in the other-- he's had a few. Probably his other half's doing.

Get ready guys; he's going nostalgic on your ass]

Allo mes amis! It is I. A -- hmm, beautifully pickled Frenchman. [He's slurring and smiling and he is oh so rarely seen like this. Lacking poise, that is] Forgive me; I am beside myself. You see, this is the first time in decades-- decades that I have been in such a situation. And you know what that is?

[He's taking a drag from his cig, blowing a rather nice ring by the way. For dramatic effect.]

Of course you do, you silly ones. In less than a week--I believe--it will be Christmas. Joyeux Noel! Back home I would be up to my neck in planning celebrations, oui? Music, catering... the decorations. [Fuck it, he's wistful and taking in more alcohol by the minute] Ah-- those were fond memories, you all.

...
Everyone, and I mean everyone [leaning in, just to prove his point, pointing with his cigarette hand at the screen because YOU are everyone] would have themselves a beautiful time, ouais? I would go party to party, dazzling -- because I am a handsome man DESPITE WHAT OTHERS MAY ELUDE TO, and at the end of the night?

[Oh, the smile he's giving is the kind that put lesser men in jail for assault. It is oozing 'charm'. Probably more drunken idiot]

Ah, but that was when I had the urge to be romantic, n'est-ce pas? This Godforesaken place--
Well, we do not need to go into my personal life that WAS, of course. But know that this was a very welcoming time that I looked forward to.

And this place is not even serving EGG NOG. [FLOURISHING LIKE A BASTARD] That is the most simple of traditions. [sip; puff; a steady look] I insist this be remedied immediately.

I think that we deserve some sense of joviality. Help me help you. [Dropping a wink just for the sake of that old time's sake]

[The screen flickers on to show a rather beaten up and nervous redhead stares into the screen. He looks pretty timid to begin with but coupled with the fact that the majority of his face is covered in bruises and band-aids only make him look even more so. Unsure what to say at first he just stares at the screen before he picks up the letter and holds it up.]

I...I'm not sure if anyone is...even there but is this really true?

[He looks like he is trying to keep calm as he reads it over again and he feels his heart sink. This had to be a joke, no way was this true...it was a illusion made up by Spade. Even still that means he needs to leave here even more so...Tsuna needs his help and he needs to help his family.]

I need to get out of here...this has to be a joke...

[Tugging at his blue collar he lets out a sigh as he rubs his neck and looks to the ground.]

I hope this is a joke...




[ooc: I hope I'm doing this right...]

[Holland appears on the screen; he looks very serious, and this would be alarming to anybody who didn't know that this is just how he looks most of the time.]

I need help; it's really important.

 [ Taps the camera and then leans back on his chair.

Looks left. Looks right. ]

Tch. I hate this place.

[ Hesitantly takes a sip of coke and then stares at something on the side. While totally tuning out, he is eating licorice. ]

That idiot has been gone for a long time...

[He seems a bit distracted as he settles down, seemingly confused. Then, with a startled sound he begins to mess with his hair. A series of muttered curses in French color his preening as he tries to plaster down stray hairs that do not exist, staring rather blankly after putting his hands down as if observing something. Hushed:] I look like a recluse! Mon dieu!

[Leans forward, more determined than ever. He goes from trying to plaster them down to brushing them down for more volume, letting that prized hair cascade like a boss. He finally leans back ten minutes later, seemingly quite pleased. Yes. You guessed correctly; he used the camera as an impromptu mirror, not quite understanding that it was broadcasting. Of course he's not quick to leave. He did just spend around 15 minutes fussing over his hair and getting up too quickly would 'disturb' it.]

Screw this tower. Screw this shitty job. Where the hell are you, Veneziano? Every-fucking-one else is here, so why aren't you?!

God damn it, fratellino!!!

[You can't see it, but this is about the point he drops his tear-streaked face onto the keyboard. If it wasn't clear, he's been crying.]

nbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbgtrfvbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb

[And there's the accidental forehead-smash text that came from that and hitting the enter key. He hasn't noticed it yet...]

[She's nervously twisting the end of a braid as she looks into the camera, adjusting her beret one more time before she speaks]

Hello everyone, I was just hoping I could get your attention for just a moment. Sorry for bothering everyone, not that we have much to do here right? [Sheepish smile] I'm trying to come up with a tally on how many different universes we've come from. I know say, I come from a different one than the Netherlands or Germany here.

I know not everyone comes from the planet we call Earth or from the same one. Molly is a mutant, Um...Basilisk --Sorry if I got your name wrong-- is also one from a different world. Nations I know as female are represented as male. If you don't call Earth home, could you tell me the name of the world or country you are from? If you're a nation could you give me the genders of those you know in your world?

Um, Trolls, are you all from the same universe? None of you is the wrong gender or...blood color? Right?

Oh and nations, could I get a role-call as well with that? I've met many of you but I think we lost a few and it'd really help to know who is here...How...did we lose people anyways? Has anyone seen Fletcher?

[Oh right babbling] A-Anyways, I'm Canada for those I haven't met--Nepeta gave me the name Madlin Wiliam for you trolls...if that's easier? [giggles a bit, she thought it was cute] Either way, it's not urgent, it's more curiosity right now, but do we have anything better to do?

[The camera flicks onto to a woman with a slightly grumpy expression, her hand reaching up to flick the camera, muttering softly in Italian. Finally it focuses in on her and she sighs, rubbing her temple. Technology always gives her a headache]

Right. Firstly; has anyone seen a girl, a bit... the same height as me [She means taller, she's just in denial] Hair that's more an auburn colour, usually kept back in a ponytail, has a curl like this [Points to her own] that flicks out on the left side, and is usually covered in some form of bruising because she's an idiota and runs into everything? Answers to the name of Venezia, or if you must, Viviana. If you see her, tell her to come to room 1-09, her sister needs to see her. Immediately.

Secondly. I assume we all received the same letters, si? That we're stuck here and our homes have been destroyed? Well that's bullshit, if Italia was destroyed I wouldn't be standing, sitting, whatever here, okay? So if you're freaking out, stop it, right now, get your shit together, because I'm sure all of us would love to go home, and get away from this stupid place.

[With a huff, she sits back in the chair, one hand still rubbing her temple, voice dropping to a mumble] I am going to go crazy here, I know it...

(ooc: I'm using the human name of the FemItaly I usually play with, obviously it could change if we get one.)

Video
---
Shoutarou is making an annoyed face at the camera.

"Y'know, I'm aware it's rude to ask this, but...just how many of you strange nation-people are here? I swear I can't go anywhere without tripping over a couple."

[Her camera turns on to a rather annoyed looking Hungary.] Alright this- isn't really funny at all. If Gilbert's the one behind this cruel prank I swear to God I will snap his neck then his dick. It's one thing for some of his pranks to be stupid, but to go this far would be completely unforgivable.

Though, I guess I should thank whoever packed everything for me. Still. I'm pretty angry.

So...please, if anyone is out there. Start spilling.

[Good morning, fellow abductees of the Tower. There is a cheerfully smiling man in a lab coat on the terminal feed now and there's nothing you can do about it! Well, okay, you could just walk away, but where's the fun in that? He gives the screen a little wave.]

Hello, hello! Done poking around our strange new prison yet? No? I guess you won't be through with that for awhile. Still, I failed to introduce myself before everyone set off!

[He had more important things to do than talk to all the little lost boys and girls, but now he doesn't!]

I am Lloyd Asplund, an engineer in the employ of the Britannian Empire. That's really all there is to that. Now on to something more fascinating! Our collars! [He taps his own, an orange one.] I did find myself a few tools, but it was all for naught! These have no obvious means of coming off. No seams, no screws, nothing. Makes you wonder how they managed to get them on in the first place, hmm? I suppose if we got our hands on a welding torch, that might be somewhat more effective, but you might not enjoy the process.

[because lol fire.]

They appear to be quite durable, as well, so you may be better off not trying anything drastic to break them. You'll just end up hurting yourselves~.

Ignore. ♥