#aph madagascar

Hello, Lovely~!

I regret to say that when I first started working on this ask, I was only going to delve a little bit into each of your questions, but my heart insisted on expanding each answer for you, and... Well...

I'll be dividing this into two different posts, as everything together is far too long to put into a single answer. ^_^;

In general, I don't think the Nations would be particularly attracted to someone for their aesthetic per say. In order to approach this, I instead tried to picture which of the Nations would likely mesh best with said aesthetics, and a few scenarios were born.

First up is Dark Academia, which kind of veers a bit more into the gothic/horror vibes than I was anticipating, but came to absolutely love as I went along.

Hope you enjoy!

Dark Academia:

Austria

Roderich has always been a perfectionist, often spends hours practising each day.

He's often finding inspiration for his compositions in seemingly the most mundane moments, has ruined many a journal and napkin with his frantic, sporadic writing, scribbling away in shorthand with almost a manic zeal.

You never fault him for it; he breathes music, each inhale and exhale just another crescendo and decrescendo in an ever-changing, uncharted symphony.

Recently however, he's lost his footing, loses his sense of direction even in his favourite concert halls.

You often catch him falling asleep at the piano, rehearsing long into the night, the calluses on his fingertips broken and crusted with dried blood.

The room is always a mess now; spilled ink coats crumpled, scattered music sheets, wax from the candelabra has melted down and solidified on the runner, one of the chairs has been broken in what you pray was an accident.

In the passing, fleeting, yearning moments when he steps away from it all, those rare moments when you coax him to eat and drink, to bathe, to sleep-

He rambles almost incoherently about the perfect symphony- frenetically, feverishly- pleads with you to help him, to ground him, to rid him of the thrice-damned refrain.

He is haunted- nay, plagued- by the song, obsessively begins to rewrite over-and-over again, cursing himself, cursing his limitations.

It kills you to see him in such a state, a witness to the near discordant harmony of anguish and ambition.

You ache to stop him, to ensure this spectre never haunts another living soul.

But you've heard it yourself, just enough to know you can't stop him.

It took only a few, hypnotic measures for you to succumb to its spell, to this dangerous, intoxicating melody that will do anything to be heard.

Belarus

Natalya is hiding something from you, something that has her constantly looking over her shoulder, has her more guarded than ever before.

You knew from the very start that she keeps secrets, knows things that you can never know- and frankly never want to know.

She drew you in with her layers, a softness buried deep, hidden behind a sharp tongue, guarded by a sharper blade.

At first glance, there is no gentleness to be found, no weaknesses to perceive.

She is quick.

And sharp.

And lethal.

Yet you knew, as you know now, there is far more to her than meets the eye, a quiet kindness and vulnerability that can only be earned with time and patience.

She used to reveal that to you, so often in fact that you had forgotten what that brusqueness even looked like.

To see her resorting to her old habits alarms you, terrifies you, has you glancing over your own shoulders even while running your usual errands.

She sneaks out a lot more these days, slipping away into darkened alleyways, disappearing into the fog and the night.

You follow her, aching for answers only she can provide, only finding more questions with every step.

A sense of urgency and desperation creeps across your skin as you walk faster, and faster, and even faster still.

You have to know.

You have to know what secrets she's hiding, why she's hiding.

In this one instance, you can't let her go on her own, can't risk her shouldering this burden of knowledge alone.

You have to help her; you have to know the truth.

She leaves behind codes written on wrappers of her favourite biscuits, messages and warnings alluding to something she's anxious that you keep out of.

Her fears only fuel your curiosity, and it isn't long until you're breaking into her safe, pouring through half-burned file folders and unmarked floppy discs.

You'll find the truth here somewhere, just as you're sure you'll figure out where she's disappeared to for the past nine days.

You continue your search for answers- both hers and your own- and know they're following you now, just as they followed her.

This is a dangerous game, and the more you learn, the deadlier it becomes.

But she's counting on you, wherever she is.

You will not rest until you find her and- together- finally expose the truth.

England

Arthur teaches you the power of words, a lesson you learn too late.

He lures you in with a bashful smile- always such soft smiles- and the perfect words.

He weaves them with practised ease and expert care, wields them as weapons only whenever truly necessary.

He always knows exactly the right words to say to you, never once stutters or second guesses, always speaks with a soft confidence that is just as beguiling and bewitching as his smile.

He introduces you to older and older texts, pages yellowed from age, the little sunlight entering the room scarcely offering enough visibility to make out each letter, to identify the source of the musty, metallic scent mingling with the dust and ancient leather.

When realisation finally strikes its fatal blow, you nearly drop the book in your alarm, its tawny sienna script striking you violently with nausea.

You frantically rush for the door, only half-aware of the creeping ivy, of the growing mist, focused only on your flight.

You're so close to escape before he's stopping you, crafting the perfect cage with a soft voice, gently luring you back in again-

Again and again as he has always done before.

Always such pretty words, always that soft, knowing smile.

You never think to question his isolation, never think to ask why he only meets you in empty corridors or forgotten rooms, never think to learn why no one else seems aware of him.

Every doubt that does come to mind, any question that arises beyond your obsessive, frantic studying-

Everything fades from thought with just the right words, whispered oh-so-gently.

It's only when you happen across an old, nearly forgotten legend that you begin to pull apart the deception, expose the hidden layers, read between the lines, and finally comprehend the gravity of your circumstance.

Words have power, he has told you- warned you- countless times.

He has always used such pretty words, such perfect words-

Words meant to charm and bind you.

Madagascar

Sakina talks in her sleep, during those few nights when your schedules sync up.

You're used to her long, odd work hours, and have long grown accustomed to her dedication to the Lab.

But she's been... off, lately.

There's a restlessness in her tapping fingers, a sense of apprehension and tension hanging around her as she pours over old reports, haunted eyes constantly drawn back to the shore.

So little of it makes sense; you've learnt enough through your time together to vaguely understand the abstracts from the dozens of articles littering her study, but you don't understand the chaotic mess of half-finished formulas and unfamiliar symbols covering her whiteboard, nor do you see the correlation to the dozens of newspaper clippings she has taped sporadically about the room.

She's taken to reciting equations in her sleep now, constantly has nightmares about... It.

She's sleeping less-and-less, has exhausted your coffee stockpiles, repeatedly begs and warns you to stay out of the water.

You're desperate to understand what is stealing her away from you, desperate for answers, desperate to save her from whatever precipice her research has led her to.

She's so lost to her research that she scarcely notices your presence over her shoulder, never seems to notice when her desk is rearranged from your own reading.

Slowly, you are starting to understand her frantic scribbles, are starting to understand the connection between all the journals that, once, seemed to have no correlation whatsoever.

You have your suspicions, you have your doubts.

Yet you can't argue with the years of evidence, can't argue the facts right in front of you.

You desperately try to convince yourself that you're wrong, that she's wrong.

But the more you learn, the more certain you are of the truth, the more you begin to dread the very thing she's been studying all along.

[ According to the most popular (Gen 1) Pokemon per country, here’s the Indian Ocean Commission with theirs! ]  

[ @hetaliaafrica2020 Day 4: Family/Friends

Denmark- Teacher. He’d be that history teacher who’s overly obsessed with Viking culture and has his class recreate medieval weapons for one of the big “25% of your grade” projects. He probably also tries to coordinate his lesson plans with the English department so the students can study certain periods of history while reading a novel or play set around the same time. He’s also totally the teacher who will walk around on top of students’ desks to get his points across.

Hong Kong- Custom Mechanic. He always had a nervous tick about his fingers, and he always found himself fiddling with something in his hands. Then one day he got to fiddle with an engine, and the rest was history. He mastered everything he possibly could over the years about rebuilding vehicles from the ground-up, and has designed a few new concepts over the years. His pride and joy remains his own motorcycle however, one he started working on very early on and one that keeps getting upgrades as the years go by.

Madagascar- Marine Biologist. Much like Seychelles, she is absolutely in love with the sea. Her fascination ran much deeper, however. She’s working to help protect the sea and all its diverse life within from the harmful effects of climate change. She’s often out on her boat, and whenever she decides to retry her landlegs again, she’s often found in cargo shorts and a loose t-shirt, visiting universities or drinking lemonade with her sister.

Mexico- Travel Agent. She is obsessed with adventure, so much so that she would take her passion to help others create their own. She wants people to experience other cultures- breathe them, smell them, hear them, see them, taste them. She encourages the more faint of heart to push their limits, just a little, to get out into the wild and see what life has to offer. She is absolutely the agent with the best deals on zip-lining through the jungle, or helicopter rides around active volcanoes.

Belarus

She’s absolutely the girl who hoardes things, ranging from her knives, cool yo-yos, and books. 

She has a really sharp fashion sense, and absolutely loves playing with darker colours, as they compliment her skin so perfectly. 

She can be a bit of a drama queen, but honestly she’d rather everyone just chill for once. 

She would do literally anything for her sister, and they tend to go hiking a lot.

Belgium

She literally has a hair bow for every outfit she owns. 

She intentionally tries to get ‘Cat’ as her result on Buzzfeed quizzes. 

She has an on-and-off again bromance with England, but they’ve more or less come together after she gave him his little Scottish Fold. 

She considers herself kind of everyone’s big sister, and is always down for hugs, murder, and binge-watching if needed, no questions asked.

Czech Republic

She refuses to wear any kind of shoe that isn’t a pair of boots.

She has rage-quit Monopoly a few times, going so far as to even flip the board and throw the money everywhere.

She has spa dates with Luxembourg every other Thursday.

She makes and designs calendars each year, sometimes featuring photos she’s taken, other times with calligraphy and sketches for each individual month; it depends.

Hungary

The Vargases are her sons and if you touch them you will never be seen again.

She has an apocalypse plan for literally any situation you can come up with.

She gets seasick every time she steps on a boat, even the ferries in Budapest.

She trusts Prussia with essentially everything, because he is one of the only people who has always been 1000% with her.

Liechtenstein

She honest-to-gods wants to become a rap god.

Switzerland is her brother, but she’s come to see Hungary as her big sister and role model.

She can’t actually cook that well, but she loves food.

She tends to play on a League server, and her language grows more and more aggressive and colourful as the hours drag on.

Madagascar

She is a marine biologist, and spends most of her time out on her boat.

She is a master volleyballer. She’s not passionate about sport overall, but volleyball is the one thing that she gets very competitive about.

Although twins, while Seychelles like to keep her hair long and flowy, she prefers to keep hers short, out of the way and less of a mess to wash after a dive.

She thinks America is a pompous douchebag, but she wants to ask him for surfing lessons. She’s just trying to summon up the strength not to smack him upside the head first.

Mexico

She leads a double life as a tour guide as well as a nation.

She, Al, and Mattie are constantly all competing with each other to see which is the superior sibling; they have all become kickass pilots, bareback riders, and dirtbikers for this reason alone.

She mastered the bottle flip on her first attempt.

She would unironically marathon Go Diego, Go! if she had the time.

Monaco

She absolutely served as a spy in WWII, and may-or-may-not have helped some certain refugees find safe passage out of Europe. I mean whaaaaaa????

She is fluent in at least ten languages, and can scam you in all of them.

Her favourite musical is Phantom of the Opera, and she has gone to see it over twelves times with France.

She can drink all of the Germanics under the table, and she has. Multiple times.

Seychelles

She has flirting contests with Romano, and 7 times out of 10, she’s the one who walks away with the girl’s number.

She makes all of her own clothes, and lowkey has a pseudonym that she has been using to start a fashion line.

She runs an aesthetic blog, featuring photos of her citizens and the amazing views near her house.

She always has a fresh batch of lemonade in the fridge, “just in case.”

Taiwan

She doesn’t fully understand the concept of personal space, and is the friend who will constantly be flopping on other friends.

She gets into intense political discussions with Macau and Hong Kong, all the time.

She’s dabbled in journalism a bit, but finds herself discouraged sometimes by the sheer number of other reporters out there, and how often a story is finished, only to be ignored in favour of the more highly shared fake news articless online.

She is a goddess at interior design, and can create ideal colour swatches at the tip of a hat.

Ukraine

She has a farm, and it is her biggest passion in this life. If she’s not wearing coveralls and muddy work boots or being followed by her small squadron of animal companions, she’s not happy.

She has an uncanny ability to predict the weather perfectly for the whole day ahead of her.

She often lights a bunch of candles in her house as dusk is falling, nostalgia for simpler times and a constant awareness of the electric bill being the root causes for the aesthetic.

She once broke Denmark’s nose for bullying Russia. Denmark still compliments her for it (’the only person more badass than me!’), and the poor girl has never lost her guilty complex.

Vietnam

She thinks The Beatles are overrated.

She can master pretty much any instrument she picks up, but keeps the fact hidden from most everyone.

She’s kind of a loner, whenever she can find some quiet time away from her brothers.

She spends a lot of time with Canada, bonding over common interests; they clicked during one of those nights where they both happened to be chilling at France’s house.

Wy

She is 1000% a fully independent woman, and if that means that she still clings to Australia whenever a storm rolls through, so be it. (He’s still her dad, no matter what.)

She tries to spend time with the other female nations, but sometimes she feels just way too young to form any real connections, even with Liechtenstein.

She is obesessed with Monty Python, and it constantly pisses Sealand off that she shares that with England.

She is taking vocal lessons from Finland. She doubts she’ll ever be into screamo or heavy metal or whatever, but it would still be ace to master.