Nikola - Bulgaria
Lovino - Italy Romano
François - 2p France

"Nikola sure doesn't take stuff like this well does he?" Feliciano says.

"Yes" Ludwig mutters, loosening his collar a little in the boiling Italian summer. "He needs to calm down a little."

"What you talking about Potato Bastardo?" Lovino snaps. "You bad mouth Nikola I kill you. He done nothing wrong."

"Why is he still with us?" Ludwig groans.

"Hey" Feliciano glares at him. "Lovino's my fratello leave him alone.

"I don't care what the Potato Bastardo has to say to me" Lovino says, folding his arms tightly. "As long as he says it to my face, I don't give a shit. There's always chance of a shit storm and each and every time Potato Bastardo has something to say, I make sure it's coming right at you. You hear me?"

Lovino calm down" Feliciano whimpers. "You don't have to..."

"Him" Kiku gestures quickly across the road towards a blonde man with heavy stubble and a blue shirt, smoking quietly. "He's a 2p."

"How can you tell?" Lidwig muttered.

"Roderich. You heard what happened to him and Elizaveta right? They thought it was normal Mathew to begin with. Some of them look exactly like us" he glances at the man out of the corner of his eye. "That man, he looks like Francis. A lot like Francis actually. But, Francis wouldn't ever let his beard grow like that plus, he's not wearing a cape, or cloak, or what ever he calls it."

"Oh yeah" Feliciano cries. "He does look a lot like big brother Francis."

"Francia is a dick. He's not your big brother Italy" Romano hisses. "And shut up, he'll hear you." François stop in the middle of blowing out a smoke ring to stare at them. Slowly, he lets the ring go and walks towards them. A car grinds to a stop, the person inside shouting insults at him. He doesn't notice.

"I know you" he says when he reaches their side of the road. "You're 1ps aren't you?" Ludwig reaches for his gun. François laughs. "Relax. I'm not like those other ones who just attack people coz... hey why not. Though I am a believer in violence."

"If you're not like them, then you can tell us what the hell you're doing" Ludwig snaps, not hesitating in getting out his gun. "You can tell us why you're attacking places."

François glances at him and chuckles. "I don't need to tell you that. Your friends in the conference room have already figured it out. The psychopath. He's clever, very clever. He knew all along just through thinking and taking into account where we were attacking. Now, you all know. It won't take long for you to predict our next move and that's why we've sent him along. Our very own psychopath."

"What? You mean that Alfred we met in Russia or the Mathew who attacked Roderich and Elizaveta wasn't a psychopath?" Feliciano asks.

François laughs harder and turns towards the road as though he's about to cross but doesn't. "Allen and Mathieu? Nah. They're nothing. They like to pretend that they're big and tough and all but really they're wusses. You could almost describe what they do as meagre sibling squabbles."

"And what about the psychopath?" Kiku asks, slowly starting to unsheathe his katana. "You said he's coming."

"Oh? Did I say that?" François sighs and draws in on his cigarette, waiting an age before he exhales again and speaks. "I've told you too much already I see." In a single, swift move, he pivots and kicks Ludwig into the nearest market stall with a sickening crunch. Kiku fully unsheathes his katana and aims a couple of blows at François who dodges them as though it's meagre child play before punching him hard, whirling and sending his next kick towards Feliciano.

"That's it" Lovino hisses as Feliciano crumples at the base of a wall. "I don't care about the Potato Bastard or the quiet one but no one, hear me, no one messes with my brother and gets away with it."

"Messes?" François shrugs. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not messing. This is business." He goes to kick lovino who steps backwards as the kick sails a couple of centimetres in front of him.

"Don't play dumb with me Cancer-Stick" he snaps. "That's my brother's joke." He narrowly avoids another couple of punches from Francois, who then stops and glares at him.

"Why don't you stop messing about as well Italy? Southern I'm guessing. Listen to me Southern, I'm not here to fight, I'm simply a messenger. I'm the messenger who tells you everything that I'm told to tell you so let me do my job. Once I've delivered my message, I leave none conscious."

"Yeah?" Lovino catches an axe kick to his head. "Well too bad you ran into me and then attacked my fratello The two worst things that'll ever happen to you."

He swings his fist round and nearly catches François but misses.

"I'm impressed" François appears behind him. "I didn't expect a weakling like one of you Italians to be able to fight. That was a good punch. But..." he kicks his back, hard, sending him falling. "You left yourself wide open to the side and back. Your moves are too slow, I could see them coming a mile off. In fact, even Roderich could see them with his glasse off."

Lovino rolls over and leaps to his feet. "Are you talking 1 or 2p Roderich? "

François thinks for a second: "Both. I think but I can't quite be sure... I think..." Lovino kicks him in the stomach, backwards to the edge of the road.

"You deliver good kicks but your problem is that when you talk, you forget about guarding yourself and..." he kicked him again, this time in the side of the head and watched as the light left his eyes. "You're way too slow in getting up. It's pathetic. You're even worse than the Potato Bastard!"