Among the Dust and Tattered Books [Veneziano]

[Turkey]

Sadiq just sat there and waited for the other shoe to drop; waited for Feliciano to throw away the shared comfort that was offered to help them both feel better. When the hand wasn’t immediately drawn away, his hope raised and he allowed himself to think Feliciano would keep the contact. His hope grew to muted happiness when the Italian smiled at him. He didn’t set their friendship back years or ruin it or anything with his outburst. He smiled back slightly and let the muscles that had tensed up, relax. Somewhere in his mind, a little blurb was upset at the way things were going, but he tuned it out. It didn’t matter. They were who they were, and that’s all that mattered.

Squeezing the hand in his own lightly, he focused on the happier feeling in his chest and imagined it spreading through him, filling every corner in radiant warmth. Knowing he still had friends that counted on him shoved every negative thought and desire down to nothing. He loved his friends, would do anything for them, and he would. “Thanks Feli. That means a lot. I hope whatever I told you was able to help out in some way; and don’t worry about it, I’ll figure out more and start putting pieces together.” With another squeeze of his hand, he nodded as if to himself, as he looked at the Italian and tried to make sure he was reading him correctly. It could be hard to read the Italian who didn’t like others to really figure out what was going on in his head unless he wanted them to.

Hearing the words that fell from the Italian’s lips with a giggle, he shrugged and smiled back. It was good to hear a giggle out of Feli, anything that indicated his happier nature was returning some, even if the topic still wasn’t the best. “Don’t worry about it Feli, I pushed you to the point where you felt like you might have needed to. It would have been my fault if you would have shot me in self-defense. But I’m glad you didn’t as that would have hurt like hell and probably have made me madder in the long run. Though with our confessions, I have to admit something to.” Turning his head, he stared at the racks of bookshelves and let his eyes wander over the multitude of tombs on the dusty shelves. Each one would tell a story, a different part of the history even if it was not directly related. “If I had to be stuck in the library with anyone, I’m glad it was you. In a weird way, I feel like this might prove to help our friendship in the long run rather than hurt it.”

[Italia Veneziano]

After a few minutes of letting his hand be held like this, drawing some comfort from the touch, Feliciano pulled his hand away. Then he pushes himself back to his feet, stepping away to glance around the library as well. "Ve, it will at least...help me be wary of things, Sadik," he murmured, stepping over to run almost delicate fingers along a dusty shelf. "So I can be prepared--that's what I need. So I don't get caught by surprise by something." His voice was quiet again, not quite contemplative but not upset, either. Simply quiet.

Then he turned to face the other, absently picking up one of the books and running a gentle touch over the leather cover as his gaze settled onto chocolate-brown eyes. "You wouldn't have said much like that if I had actually shot you, Sadik," he continued, a small smile still settled on his lips. "No matter the provocation, so long as you...didn't actually hurt me, shooting you would have been baaaaad~" As he spoke, his fingers slid over the book, flipping it open to a random page and feeling the yellowing paper underneath lightly calloused skin. "Don't talk like it would've been self-defense--it would only be over-reaction, the kind we aren't really...allowed to make anymore, ve."

Those last few words, though, they seemed to distract the Italian. With a blink, he looked up and stared at the other brunette with confused amber eyes. Then they crinkled in the corners as he smiled again. "Veeeeeeeee, we're not stuck, though! We can leave the library whenever we want, and we will eventually if we want to avoid the monsters that patrol this floor. Now you're just being silly~" Closing the book with a snap, he tucked the old dictionary back into its place on the bookshelf.

[Turkey]

Feeling the smaller hand leave his own, Sadiq drew it back to himself, already feeling more like himself thanks to that little bit of contact that was allowed. He needed to strengthen up, harden his heart to the negative influence that was trying to invade. He would be more open to the manors affects if he couldn’t, a virtual open book to be read and manipulated at the manor’s will. Its power was great, the miasma was contagious; it was attempting to draw out the darker, sadistic side that all the Nations had buried a long time ago. Looking up as Feliciano as he spoke, he nodded in agreement. It was good to be wary of things, it was good to be prepared… but why was he talking in such a quiet voice. He could feel his eyes crinkle in a small look of confusion and worry. He would listen and see how else this turned out.

He watched the Italian pick up the book and run a finger gently over it as he looked at him. Was there something in those amber eyes that was hiding just below the surface that he couldn’t see? Perhaps, only time would tell though. “I don’t know what I would have said, but does it really matter now. It didn’t happen, I didn’t hurt you and you didn’t shot me.” He watched that finger move over the random page it was flipped to and watch him come back to himself… finally. Would he slip back into whatever it was? Could he find a way to provoke Feliciano into doing it again somehow? Sadiq wasn’t sure, but it would be worth the shot. “But it would have been in self-defense. I had every intention of hurting you, and you would have been trying to stop me. But I’ll drop it.”

Watching Feliciano put the book away, he wanted to know what book he had picked up and what he had read in it. It might have helped explain why he had tranced out a bit there…he wondered, did Feliciano even remember what he had said? “We can leave the library when we want, evet. Perhaps I am silly, but tell me… What were we just talking about Feli, before we started talking about me being silly and leaving the library?” He had to know if the Italian had zoned out there, if he would zone out again.

[Italia Veneziano]

"...? We weren't talking, though." Feliciano replied, tilting his head to one side as more confusion settled over his own expression. Lifting a hand to tap at his chin, his gaze slid up to the ceiling as if asking it some silent question. "At least, not really talking, ve." Due to his new, thoughtful pose, he didn't catch the befuddlement on the younger nation's face, nor did he notice the other's worry. "I remember running in to avoid a monster, and then I was looking around to make sure there wasn't anything in here, and then you popped up!" His smile dimmed a little at his next words, though. "You were in a bad mood, and I heard you say something a bit mean about "stabbing me in the chest" or something for sneaking up on you..? Then I said I'd shoot you before you could try--which is exactly why it wouldn't have been self-defense."

Then he turned his gaze back to Sadik, resting a hand on the bookshelf. "Why are you asking, ve? He asked, voice soft with confusion--they were in a different section of the library than when they'd been arguing, and for the life of him he couldn't remember walking over here. But he pushed that thought aside as simply being distracted by his unusual bad temper. "That just happened a few minutes ago, it's not like it was all that forgettable."

He couldn't help but wonder, though--why was the Turk asking him that? It's not like they'd been talking all that long.

[Turkey]

A cold chill ran down Sadiq’s back at hearing what Feliciano said. Did he really not remember that entire episode of being backed into the bookshelf, afraid for his health and safety? Did he not remember speaking the words that helped Sadiq regain his foothold on his senses? It all seemed to be forgotten, and while it might seem a good thing that Feliciano didn’t remember that incident, it worried him. Was the blasted Manor getting to Feliciano too, going after a weak part in his mind? Sadiq knew that Feliciano wasn’t all that stable as a child for a while, and not it seemed like it was going after those few flaws that were still there; for no matter how stable the Italian seemed, once you’ve had something going on in your mind, it was always present to be preyed upon later.

“Feliciano, would you consider us close friends? Would you want me to tell you if I’ve noticed something odd going on? Or would you rather I leave it alone and hope it goes away.”

Changing his position, he leaned forward on the chair he was in and looked at Feliciano with concern and hopefully an expression of wanting to help, and curiosity. He wanted to know what was going on, what had happened to his friend in those few seconds he had spaced out. Was he to blame for Feliciano’s metal lapse? Did bringing back those memories overwhelm his mind and cause him to blank out the entire time he had spent talking to the man? If so, he had to help anyway he could.

Feeling that icy touch on his back again, he realized that Feliciano would have forgotten the information he had passed on. It was important he know as Feli wouldn’t have asked in the first place if it wasn’t; he just hoped he would remember this time.

“Just to let you know Feliciano, in case you’re wondering, there are other spirits in the hose besides the monsters that chased you in here in the first place.”

[Italia Veneziano]

[Close friends? With the Turk? What the hell is this idiot thinking?! He was the cause of most of your problems, of the misery we all suffered all those centuries ago! We can understand making friendly with your family again, or your strong allies, but it's him! Are you insane?!]

With a quiet hum, the small Italian tilted his head to one side. Amber eyes were slightly out of focus as he thought over what he'd just been told--it felt like he'd heard this before, but for the life of him he didn't know why. And it was a bit infuriating, that he couldn't remember. But when he turned his gaze on Turkey once more, only more confusion dawned in him. The other was leaning forward and staring at him as if expecting a worrisome answer, like he was...expecting something bad to happen. There was concern in that gaze, and for the life of him he didn't know why the other felt like being concerned for him at all. "S-Si, Sadik, I would say we're amici," he murmured, offering a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes because why should he be smiling to reassure the other? There wasn't anything wrong!
[Nothing wrong? Feliciano, there is always something wrong! Even if it's not with you, maybe something's bothering him--but you don't really care about that, do you? Do you really care about people as much as you say you do? Or do you only like that feeling of self-satisfaction from helping others and receiving praise for your "hard work"? You make us all sick]
"But like, don't worry about me, ve~ Va bene, Sadik? You can tell me if something's bothering you, because I want to help you feel better, but I feel fine!" His smile grew a little as he leaned back against the bookshelf, still watching the other as he tried to understand what was going on.

After all, he would remember something so important to earn the other's concern, and curiosity. Once more, hidden behind his smile, irritation began to bubble up slightly. Now, as he stared, that gaze was akin to the other watching a particularly intriguing specimen.
[Isn't that what you are, though? Half a nation, a being that's existed for millennia, and crazy enough to be a mental patient! Wouldn't that be interesting for anyone? Stop thinking you're actually normal, Feliciano~ It's degrading to you and to everyone who you drag down by associating yourself to them!]

With a frown, he shook his head, lifting a hand to push himself into a standing position. His voice was distracted now, as he murmured, "Va bene, that's interesting, Sadik, thanks for sharing." It was obvious he didn't give a single thought to actually register that new information. "A-Anyway, say what's bothering you, va bene? That's what's more important here, anyway."
[No it's not--but you're just lying him some more, aren't you? You like to say you actually care about being honest, but are you really ever honest to anyone anymore, Italia?]

By this point, Feliciano just really wished whoever was talking to him would shut up. It was irritating, trying to keep up between Sadik and that new voice. Normally he could hold two conversations at once, but this was just bothersome.

[Turkey]

Something. There was something not quite right with all this, with how Feliciano was acting, but for the life of him, Sadiq could not figure out what it was. He had never been all that close of friends with the Northern Italian man, but he did know how to read him. Decades and centuries ago when they were enemies and had wanted nothing more than to kick the shit out of the other, he had learned to read Feliciano. Each movement meant something to him, each facial expression. The turn of an eyebrow, the blinking of an eye. Movement and voice patterns. Both together could tell things about the man.

Mumbling and stuttering while the smile didn’t reach his eyes; what could this mean? He was hiding something and he knew he was hiding something…but did he know what he was keeping to himself? With a mental shake of his head, he dismissed that thought. Of course Feliciano knew what he was talking about. Though just because you know what you’re talking about doesn’t mean you know what’s going on. Was he trying to reassure himself, or the one who had asked the question? Sadiq knew that Feliciano had forgotten, but it still seemed like the man in question didn’t. This entire situation was confusing him.

“Hmm, don’t worry about you? Why not? Friends worry, especially when one of their friends seems to have forgotten something that only happened minutes ago.”

Adjusting how he was sitting, he pushed himself off of the chair again and walked toward Feliciano. Taking a chance he hoped he didn’t regret later. With a deep breath, Sadiq reached up and took off his mask, letting Feliciano see his full face for the first time in years. His mask stayed on in all situations, never coming off unless he felt it was needed or he was comfortable enough with the person in question. This situation warranted it and he had to trust Feliciano, show that he trusted him. Concerned eyes stayed on Feliciano. A look away could show that he wasn’t sincere in helping his ally, and would only convince Feliciano not to tell him. How Feliciano reacted to his closing the distance between them could tell him a lot also. Hopefully the trust with this act and the concern would let Feliciano open up to what he seemed to be hiding; all the pieces, depending on the shape they took, could form a very interesting look into how the Italian’s mind was currently. Stopping a few feet in front of where the Italian was standing, Sadiq cocked his head to the side, part of his mind analyzing every detail as it emerged.

“Why ya so concerned if something is wrong with me Feliciano? Such force in concern in something wrong with me almost certainly points to ya hiding something yaself? Now, I’ve known ye for an age, former Republic of Venice, Northern part of Italian Republic, Feliciano; and I’ve seen how ya react to many a thing. What makes ya think it’s possible to hide to hide something like this from me? Such a forgetful man you seem to be.”

His accent had slipped unplanned. It was now thick and heavy. He tried hard to keep his speech light and understandable, but this situation worried him to where he wasn’t concerned about his accent. Perhaps the thick accent would help in the long run. Only time would tell.

[Italia Veneziano]

Agitation once more began to bubble in the Italian's chest and at the corners of the calm mask he tried keeping up, to not worry the younger nation. He rolled his shoulders, trying to dislodge the growing tenseness, because really, Turkey was just trying to help, no? Just checking up on a friend--even if Feliciano had reassured him twice already. It wasn't the Turk's fault he was--[Too dumb to not press when obviously nothing was wrong?] Yes, exactly! Too dumb to stop pushing for answers that weren't even there! After all--he'd told the brunette that he was fine, already--why say that Feliciano's the one forcing concern when Sadik is the one poking and prodding and acting like there was something wrong and unwilling to let go of the notion? At least Feliciano was actually interested in listening to the Turk's response! Dio, dealing with this man was so frustrating!

With that strained smile swiftly deforming into a hard frown, the Italian turned his attention back on the nation in question. Sadik had, in the time it took for the corner of one amber eye to start twitching, pushed himself to his feet, and slid that mask from the bridge of his nose and into the palm of his hand. Concerned chocolate chip eyes peered down at him from an empathetic face, as if such an action would get him to "spill his guts". Feliciano immediately recoiled, practically bristling at the sight. [Does that idiot not understand what a gesture like that even meant?! Or is he really so goddamn stupid--] Stai zitto! If you're going to be stupid, just shut up, idiota. With another slight shake of his head to get rid of these thoughts, he took a deep breath to steady his fraying nerves. Mutely he thanked the fact for his half-mask hiding at least his left eye--at least a little of his agitation could be covered up by gold-painted porcelain.

With Turkey, it seemed that reassurance wouldn't work, anyway. Removing that strip of white only meant one thing--whatever was going to happen, Turkey wanted to see it without being hindered by the pale wax-cloth mask. "I am not hiding anything, Sadik," The Italian stated firmly, a scowl twisting his face into a mask of irritation. Golden brown eyes narrowed, and he took a step back to put distance between himself and the tall nation attempting to loom over him. "I don't care what kind of name you call me, either, ve--The my heart's namesake doesn't mean anything more to me than the other dozen names I used to know, like Genova, Firenze, Milano, Pisa, or Ferrara. It certainly doesn't mean that you actually know me, let alone well enough to guess that I'm hiding something--which I'm not! So could you actually listen to me when I say I'm fine, ve?!"

The Italian didn't care that he was snapping, now. He turned away with an agitated huff, running his hand through his hair. The action only sent his normally neat hair flying wild, floating about his head in a physical representation of the loss of control he had over his emotions. "I wouldn't lie about being alright--" [Bullshit--you lie through your teeth every day to your friends and family! There's nothing to stop you lying to someone you care about not even half as much as them!] "--so just stop with the staring and the nagging and the pseudo-psychological babble?! Per favore? Because you're starting to irritate, ve. Especially since you're the one bothered by something, hypocrite."

With that said, Feliciano turned away to head for the door. He said what he wanted to say, and now that the hallway beyond the door had fallen silent, there was no reason to stay. Not when he was agitated, hearing things, and dealing with an irritating Turkey.

[Turkey]

"I am not hiding anything, Sadik”


The words of denial fell from Feliciano's lips and Sadiq could tell they were false. Why deny something so strongly if it was false? The way the Italian backed away from him also clued him in that he was hiding something. He was retreating from the truth; something was wrong with Feliciano. Sadiq was the only one around, he had to help Feliciano, pay him back for helping him….even if he caused this problem in the first place. He stood where he was, trying to think back over all their encounters, trying to see if any of them could help him.


"I don't care what kind of name you call me, either, ve--The my heart's namesake doesn't mean anything more to me than the other dozen names I used to know, like Genova, Firenze, Milano, Pisa, or Ferrara. It certainly doesn't mean that you actually know me, let alone well enough to guess that I'm hiding something--which I'm not! So could you actually listen to me when I say I'm fine, ve?!"


Everything that Feliciano had said was true, just because he knew the one of the many names of Feliciano didn’t mean he actually knew him. Really, they didn’t have much of a friendship outside of the working one. It had always been light banter and social chitchat these days, and even before the modern era, they had been bitter enemies. At each other’s throats, spying on each other, hurting each other for political gain, it didn’t lend any credence to them being friends. And knowing that someone he tried so hard to make friends with still saw him ad untrustworthy hurt.


Sadiq did a lot to improve on his attitude. He had realized that the way he was wouldn’t help anyone. He had realized his anger did nothing. He had found a much better attitude he liked more. He liked how he acted how, it was the real him that was buried underneath everything for all those years…but it didn’t matter apparently. This way he was just annoying .

"I wouldn't lie about being alright--so just stop with the staring and the nagging and the pseudo-psychological babble?! Per favore? Because you're starting to irritate, ve. Especially since you're the one bothered by something, hypocrite."

There was nothing going through his head at those words, how could it. He didn’t know what to say anymore. He watched Feliciano walk away from him and out of site; one nation he thought he could be good friends with, thought they were on the path to a better friendship after everything. It had fallen into disarray quicker than anything he had ever seen. Walking back to the seat he had claimed, he sat down and just stared. Where had it gone so wrong? Oh, of course, it started when he first advanced on him. It was his fault. Swallowing, Sadiq felt a heavy pressure in his chest and something we on his face. Reaching up to feel, he pulled his hand away to find this fingers were wet…he was crying. Putting his mask back on, he lowered his head and rested it in his hands and allowed himself to cry. A few sobs escaped, releasing the pressure on his chest, but it didn’t help. He ruined what he had worked so hard to build up, and he didn’t know if there was a way to fix it.

[Italia Veneziano]

It was only when Feliciano had reached the entryway to the library that his ears caught the quiet sound of echoing sobs. Unfortunately, even libraries trapped within haunted houses and filled with monsters shared the annoying quality that all libraries seemed to have; being so spaciously quiet that any sound made would echo around the entire room. His ears twitched from the sound, fingers tightening upon the door handle as he tried to keep himself from looking back. What did Sadik have to cry about? Nothing had been said that wasn't the truth--well not, it really wasn't, was it? [No, no it's not true at all, Felicia--] The Italian roughly shook his head at that voice, trying to keep the sentences muted as he finally lifted golden eyes to peer back the way he had came.

Why had he reacted so harshly? That kind of coldness, it hadn't been warranted, had it? He didn't really know what had come over him at all--he and Sadik were friends and they have been for decades. He enjoyed his visits to Istanbul, and the Turkish nation had always seemed to enjoy coming to see Venice; liked to make jokes about the old days and how nice it was to actually be welcome in the former Republic. Those days were fun, it was nice to talk with the man. And despite Sadik's younger age, he had aged faster than Feliciano, and had a way about him that made the brunette comfortable. So why had he snapped like that?

What had he even said that would make a strong nation like Turkey cry?

With that worried frown tugging the corners of his lips, Feliciano slowly turned away from the door, ignoring those inner protests, and made his way back to that sitting area. Sadik was sitting with his head in his hands--that had to be uncomfortable with that white mask still pressed to his skin. He was hunched over so far, and those tears were pittering upon the wooden floor at an increasingly fast pace. Guilt rose in his stomach, and in his own eyes Feliciano felt the faintest burn. Approaching the nation like one would approach a skittish animal, Feliciano waited a moment before carefully resting his hand upon Sadik's shoulder.

"V-Ve, why are you crying..?" He whispered, voice tinged with worry. "There's no reason to cry, amico mio."

[Turkey]

Hearing footsteps approaching him hesitantly didn’t rouse movement from the Turkish Nation, he stayed how he was sitting. He didn’t care if someone saw him cry or not, it didn’t matter anymore. Pride meant nothing in the manor, and though he was tempted to suck it up and put on a brave face for whoever was walking to him, he didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, he just drove one of the best friends he had away.

Nothing had changed in the library physically, but it felt like everything had shifted. The atmosphere felt heavier, oppressive, like it was trying to press his feelings down inside of him, make him numb to them. He didn’t care, everything he had been bottling up and found a release and he let go. Sadik didn’t care if it was Feliciano that was approaching him, or a monster, he just wanted to be left alone to deal with his. Finally, the steps stopped in front of him and he eventually felt a hand on is shoulder.

"V-Ve, why are you crying..?" He whispered, voice tinged with worry. "There's no reason to cry, amico mio."

Lowering his hands, he just shook his head. Was this another part of the Italian’s plan to hurt him? No, of course it wouldn’t be. It was like he didn’t even remember what had even happened, and that hurt to. Managing to get control of himself to at least slow down the tears if not totally stop crying, he just stared at the floor.

“Do you even remember anything of what just happened? I ruined our friendship Feliciano. You don’t want anything to do with me anymore. I see how it is, it’s alright.”

Taking a deep breath, he removed his mask and wiped the tears from his eyes and just laughed hollowly to himself. He would morn and move on, he knew he couldn’t let it affect him in this house. Perhaps they could renew it after they got out of here and didn't have these supernatural stresses on them? Hell, who was he kidding, it was going to hurt for a while, but thats what masks were for right? He would hide.

“Don’t worry; just go find your brother or Ludwig. I’ll so see if I can find the Greek bastard and Kiku. I’m alright, I’m always alright. Nothing can keep me down for long; never has, never will.

[Italia Veneziano]

The more Sadik continued to cry, the more Feliciano's heart clenched up, and his frown deepened. He rubbed soothing circles in the man's shoulder as Sadik forced himself to calm down. Those words, though, did nothing more than make him frown. "Do you even remember," he had said. "I ruined our friendship, you don't want anything to do with me anymore." If the Turk was talking about their short argument, with him losing his temper, then he was honestly...surprised by the man's sensitivity. Just because Feliciano was short with him certainly didn't mean that their friendship was ruined, or that Feliciano didn't want anything to do with the other nation. ...Unless something had happened that Feliciano wasn't remembering. But that made no sense, none whatsoever. Like he'd thought to himself before, a person didn't just forget things, not that quickly.

His focus on that nonsensical idea deviated, though, once Sadik continued to speak with a humorless chuckle. He let that go on a few seconds more, then the Italian sighed quietly, through his nose. "...Ve, Turkey, if you want people to be honest with you, you have to be honest with them in return." The words slipped from his lips unbidden, but it was honest enough that he didn't try to take it away. "But if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, ve." He lifted his hand from Sadik's shoulder and plucked that mask from the man's face. Tucking it into a pocket in his shirt, the brunette pushed himself to his feet, patting the man on the head. "Once you want to talk, you can come find me."

Before Turkey could try to retake his mask, Veneziano pulled away entirely and headed back towards the door. Taking a moment to make sure there wasn't anything lurking in the hallway, he slid through the door and vanished into the gloom of the Manor.

[Turkey]

"...Ve, Turkey, if you want people to be honest with you, you have to be honest with them in return. But if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, ve."

Feeling Feliciano lift take his hand away from his shoulder, he looked up, wanting to see what the Italian was doing, which look was on his face. Would he be wearing a mask of his own? Well, Feliciano was wearing a mask for his costume, but he know that people also had masks that were emotional; who better to know that than a man who wore a real mask all the time. Just as the Turkish man’s eyes were seeking out his friend’s, his own white mask was plucked off his face and stuffed into a pocked into the shirt, a pocked that Sadiq didn’t realize was present on the Italian’s shirt until now. He also felt a pat to his head, it felt different, it wasn’t often people patted him on the head like that.

“Hey, why you take that for?”

"Once you want to talk, you can come find me."



Watching Feliciano walk out of sight, it only took him a few seconds to get up and follow, but it was too late, the Italian was gone. Walking through the shelves to the main door, he opened it up and looked around, Feliciano was nowhere to be found. Sadiq had forgotten how fast Feli could move when he wanted to. Closing the doors behind him, he leaned against the wood and closed his eyes. He knew he should have told Feli the truth when it happened, just another mistake to add to the pile. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and focused. He had to find Feliciano and tell him what was going on and apologize for keeping it from him. More importantly, he had to stop thinking it was his fault and grow up. This house was trying to bring him down and trying to make him lash out, to bring his own fears to reality and he wouldn’t let it. Not as long as he still breathed. Turning back around, he set out on his own to look for Feliciano.

((and this is now Finished~ )