determinazione {OPEN}

[LOVINO VARGAS]

It was after school, and only one person remained in the room. With a paint apron and a few random splotches of paint on his skin, Lovino was trying desperately to finish this piece, and to make it actually look like something. It would be odd for anyone that knew, or at least had run into, the Italian because currently he wasn't really acting like himself. Quiet. Not shouting profanity. Concentrated. Yes, he was making an actual effort, and while he half-assed his classes most of the time, the brunette was determined to do his best if it was something he actually cared about.

Unfortunately, his intentions weren't all the best. 'Damn Feliciano.. 'Oh look at what he's done. Isn't it so pretty? He's the next great artist! Let's ignore his brother's work that's hanging right next to it!'' A slight grimace broke the Italian's concentration, causing him to harshly rake the paintbrush down the canvas and leave a trail of bright green down one side of it. Lovino stared at it momentarily dumbfounded at the sudden streak of color. He could have shouted and thrown the supplies across the room in a fury; instead, he just sighed and let his head fall forward onto the easel-supported canvas. Whether or not he had landed on a spot of dry or wet paint, he didn't care.

"Dammit, I have to finish this," he told the empty room. Part of him was determined to complete the project, while the usual negativity he held told him 'why bother?'. It would just end up ignored and out-shined anyways. At this moment he thought he heard something, but brushed it off and closed his eyes, still resting against the unfinished painting. As long as a certain annoying brother didn't suddenly appear, he didn't care of Godzilla himself walked in.

[LUDWIG BEILSCHMIDT]

Ludwig sighed. He didn’t know why people automatically picked him out as the type to do errands on command, but they always somehow did. Whenever anyone needed a favor, and he happened to be passing by, he could always count on someone shouting “Ludwig!” or “Hey, you!” or, sometimes in less than friendly cases, “Oi, kraut!”

Of course, what he really didn’t know was why he always answered to people’s yells. It wasn’t as if he had nothing better to do. He always had something better to do. There were tests to study for, papers to write, practices to attend, and a whole manner of things that he could be doing if he wasn’t running errands for people. In fact, there was a physics test tomorrow, and he hadn’t read the chapters in the book yet.

He really needed to stop being so helpful all the time.

Maybe, he thought grudgingly, he could get this done quickly. He would probably end up getting little to no sleep tonight. Such was his life.

Grumbling a little under his breath, Ludwig made his way to the art studio. That happy Italian had suddenly called him over and begged him to get more blue paint so as to properly depict the lake. Evidently, he couldn’t get it himself because it was “ve, too far away, and if I leave, I’ll lose the inspiration, ve~!”

He approached the art studio, only to find it already occupied. Oh. It was the angry one. Still, he seemed very focused on what he was doing. Maybe if Ludwig was very quick, he could sneak in and out without getting yelled at.

Of course, right after he thought that, he walked into a desk and sent a bunch of blank canvases crashing to the floor.

[LOVINO VARGAS]

The initial sound of the door opening was ignorable, but it was impossible not to look up when there was suddenly a clatter of canvases falling to the floor. Looking up, the Italian was greeted with the sight of a familiar blond student. Oh. Him. The Italian immediately brushed away his previous feelings as he was filled with a familiar annoyance. "Good job you potato bastard! Look at what you did!" He would never say it in a million years, but he was glad it wasn't his brother. He couldn't stand the German either, but right now Feliciano was.. avoidable, to say the least.

He stood and sighed, setting down the painting supplies with a deliberate slowness that allowed him some time to think of what to do next.

"What the hell are you doing here anyways?" A pause, then he leaned to one side to see if anyone was following behind the other student. "Shouldn't you be with him?" Now it wasn't that Lovino ever truly hated the cheerful Italian, but there was just times he couldn't stand him if he tried, and this was one of those times. Lovino grumbled and moved to where the canvases had fallen and picked one up, turning his narrowed gaze at the other. Wasn't he the one always with his brother? Yup. Had to be him. He didn't give the other much time to reply to his first questions before snapping at him again. "Dammit.. Pick up these canvases too! You don't paint with them on the floor you know!"

Feeling a little drained, the Italian wasn't as snappy as usual, but it would still be a miracle if he ever spoke to the other kindly. He scoffed for a moment before checking the doorway again for any sign of the brunette.

[LUDWIG BEILSCHMIDT]

Ludwig winced at the sound of the falling canvases, wishing that he could blend into the wall. Alas, it was not to be. The angry Italian automatically started going off on him. So much for getting his errand done quickly.

The German really didn’t know what he had done to deserve the attention from the two Italian brothers; one was entirely too clingy and determined to be best friends for life, and the other just…well, hated him. And yelled at him. And called him names. It was irking, to say the least. And it definitely wasn’t what he needed now, when he was tired and stressed out and quickly developing a migraine.

“Yes, yes, sorry,” he muttered, bending down to grab a couple of canvases and stacking them neatly on the desk. He noticed the Italian’s glance toward the door. Ludwig wasn’t entirely sure about the angry one’s ridiculous inferiority complex, but he could certainly sympathize with not wanting a brother around every once in a while. If he had a brother like Feliciano, he would want him as far as possible sometimes as well. “He, as you say it, is out by the lake. He said he needed more blue paint. So he sent me to get some from here.”

[LOVINO VARGAS]

"Better be sorry, bastard." He lowered the canvas onto the pile, mentally noting that if anyone said anything about their condition, he could blame the German. It could have been a number of things that caused the Italian's dislike toward him, but the main reason had to be that Feliciano seemed to want to always be around him, and constantly talked about him whenever the two brothers did see each other and attempted a conversation. 'So damn annoying..' Not to mention he was out painting with the blond, when Lovino remembered telling him he would be in the art studio today (secretly hoping he would come by and maybe help, but telling himself it was so he could show him just how amazing he had become as an artist).

But then..

Knowing that Feliciano was painting as well, and very likely better than he was, only got to him more. "That's just great!" he suddenly shouted, pushing the just-arranged canvases back on the floor before stomping toward his own work, "Andate tutti a 'fanculo! You can both go to hell, and he can sell some more AMAZING artwork and become rich and have a perfect damn life and forget about me!" He growled under his breath, not caring about his outburst and stopping just before he reached his canvas, crossing his arms. "Tch. Have fun being his slave."

The thing about the Italian's anger was that it suddenly flared, but then died out almost immediately afterward; it was almost a lucky thing too.. After a few breaths, Lovino turned back to the German with a faint scowl still crossing his features. "The paint's under the sink.. Kraut."

[LUDWIG BEILSCHMIDT]

Ludwig resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. The urge seemed to spike in frequency around either of the Italian brothers. He very firmly did not roll his eyes instead and continued to arrange the canvases into a neat stack.

Then the angry Italian had to go and have an outburst. And it was completely out of nowhere! Ludwig hadn’t even said anything provoking! Well, with this one, it seemed that anything he said was worthy of an outburst, but…all the same! And he’d gotten yelled at in Italian, which he didn’t understand, but he was pretty sure that it was not anything kind. Plus, the Italian had shoved the canvases back onto the floor. Great. And he’d almost had them stacked completely and arranged by size. Now he had to start over.

Gritting his teeth, Ludwig bent back down to retrieve the canvases, glaring at the angry Italian. “I won’t be having fun being anyone’s slave, danke schön,” he snapped. “And I’m sure anyone would find it very…difficult to forget about you. Trust me. You are most certainly not forgettable. And it isn’t as if your own artwork is terrible, and if you would stop pitying yourself, you might notice that.”

He moved over to the sink and started rummaging around the many paint tubes for blue. Only to find several different kinds. Great, what shade had he asked for again?

[LOVINO VARGAS]

Lovino jumped. The last thing he had expected was for the German to snap back at him, not when he was so quiet and stoic all the time.

"H-huh. What the hell's that supposed to mean?" he threw back as he heard the other speak in German, although the anger from his voice wasn't nearly as much as it was before. The Italian talked a lot of threats and tossed around bad names like no tomorrow, but when it came to confrontation and the other person fighting back, he immediately quieted down (mostly from cowardice). "And, and I'm not pitying myself, dammit! It's the truth." He was tempted to add an insult directed to the student on top of that, but he decided to wait a bit to ensure the other didn't get all scary or anything.

The brunette noticed that he seemed to be taking forever and raised an eyebrow. "It's not that hard to miss you know. It's right there." 'You damned potato-eating..' Anyways. Lovino decided to stop standing around and moved back to his canvas, carefully picking up the brush and trying to fix the streak of green left there earlier before the.. interruption. A few brush strokes and he found himself looking back at the German. He hesitated, but mentally decided that if the other did anything scary, he could stab him with the paintbrush or something. "O-oi. Bastard. You better not talk to my brother like that either," he muttered. Okay, so he was hoping to yell that at the blond, but at the last moment his courage faltered.

The Italian was ticked from being scared, but hey, 'You never know if those crazy ass Germans will attack in a heartbeat or not.'

[LUDWIG BEILSCHMIDT]

Ludwig sighed and just decided to pick one of the paint tubes at random. The happy Italian would just have to live with the result. He grabbed one and stood back up, gazing resignedly over at the angry one.

“If you know anything about your brother, you know that people hardly ever talk to him. He talks to people.” With another sigh, Ludwig turned to leave. Maybe if he ran quickly enough, he’d still have time to study for that physics test before he had to go to soccer practice. Of course, maybe at this point he’d taken too long, and Feliciano wouldn’t even be at the lake anymore. That would be just his luck.

But…then again, he thought reluctantly, the angry Italian seemed very despondent right now. Maybe he’d been too harsh? Ah, curses, he hated it when people’s feelings got hurt…Well, he’d have to remedy this situation somehow, eventually, so he might as well get it over with now.

Mentally bidding farewell to any chances of a good grade in physics, Ludwig awkwardly approached him. “Erm…what are you painting?” he asked, attempting to strike up friendly conversation. Though, with Lovino, it probably would be far from friendly. It was the thought that counted, he supposed.

[LOVINO VARGAS]

Not understanding what he meant, Lovino decided not to reply, instead scoffing and turning back to his work. "Yeah, sure." It was then he decided to tune out the German. 'Took the potato bastard damn long enough.' He assumed that after that, he left, and he was alone in the studio again. Besides, after the brief snapping a few minutes ago, the last thing he expected was for the other to stay around, much less even speak to him again. No, what he expected was for him to leave and hang out with this stupid brother while he stayed and tried to finish the landscape.

"Dammit! Don't do that!" he shrieked, caught off guard and covering up his surprise with more yelling. The Italian thought that Ludwig would be gone by now, and couldn't help but give him an incredulous look. "Why the hell would you want to know?" he asked warily, "..It's just a damn tree. In a field." He turned to face the German, sighing quietly and not trying to even cover up his suspicious glare. "My idiot brother's going to wonder where you are. And why are you being so weird? You were snapping at me a second ago, and now you're all.." For lack of a word, he just gestured vaguely.

Friendly? That would be just weird. The shorter student wasn't being the least bit kind, and yet the other has bothered to ask what he was painting? The only explanation Lovino could come up with was that he was being taunted, but he decided to wait a bit before tirading again.

[LUDWIG BEILSCHMIDT]

The Italian's yelling was really only to be expected. Ludwig sighed. "I was making polite conversation. You seemed like you needed it. And I doubt Feliciano will mind. He keeps himself occupied enough with whatever it is that goes through his head." Really, this brother complex thing Lovino had was not helping anything. He really needed to see someone about it. Or, better yet, talk to his brother about it. Maybe if they worked it out between themselves, other people would be spared the combined wrath of the Vargas brothers. Though by 'wrath', it meant Lovino's shouting obscenities and Feliciano clinging and crying more than he usually did.

But he digressed. Ludwig looked at the painting appraisingly. There was still a hint of a smudge of green that had probably occurred when the Italian had been startled by the sound of the canvases falling. Overall, however, it wasn't a bad painting. Though admittedly, like Lovino constantly said, not as brilliant as his brother's skill. But, when it came to something like art, who ever was?

"It's a good painting," Ludwig commented. Then, without thinking, added, "You really ought to stop comparing yourself to Feliciano. You'd probably do better that way."

[LOVINO VARGAS]

The Italian couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. The other student wasn't exactly complimenting his brother, but he didn't seem to be bad-mouthing him either. To be honest, he was just glad the German was going crazy praising him or saying how amazing or nicer he was; as long as it wasn't a waterfall of wonderful things about Feliciano, he wasn't as irked. "Tell me about it.." he muttered, It's always 've this' and 've that' and.." Lovino found it hard not to roll his eyes for the hundredth time that day, instead concentrating back on his painting after giving Ludwig another suspicious look.

Gah. What was with these damn surprises?

"... What." Now it wasn't that the Italian would always rant and rave for sympathy, but because he believed it, so when he heard the German's comment, he was thoroughly surprised. He huffed, finally rolling his eyes and cursing himself as he felt his face grow warm; however, he quickly shook his head to get rid of whatever just happened. "Just because I said it sucks doesn't mean you have to compliment it, macho potato." But of course, the Italian wasn't able to bring himself to say thanks for such a thing (not out loud anyways). After a stretch of silence he paused in his painting. "So what about you? No painting or anything? Tch. Wouldn't be surprised since all you Germans can do is walk around being damn brutes."

Even with the insults, it was Lovino's attempt to make a conversation.. sort of.

[LUDWIG BEILSCHMIDT]

Well, Ludwig thought, that was some progress at least. The usually angry Italian wasn’t screaming anymore at any rate. And he had asked a question. Sort of. In between the insults, anyway. The potato business was another thing he just did not understand. Why the Italian was so insistent on his choice of food made no sense at all to him. What was wrong with potatoes? They were a good source of carbohydrates. They could be boiled, mashed, put into a stew, or baked. Or, he supposed, more commonly in America, cut into strips, fried, and dipped in ketchup. They were a large part of his national cuisine. Still, it wasn’t as if he ate them all the time: not enough for him to be named after them. It was really quite silly. And irritating.

“No,” he responded. “I do not paint. Feliciano tried to teach me. It ended rather badly.” That was true. The happy Italian had demanded the resulting mess to be destroyed. Ve, ve, it’s not even abstract anymore! he’d cried mournfully. “I much prefer science. There are more absolutes.” And he still had that physics test. But he’d actually worked up to a half-decent conversation! He couldn’t quit now!

[LOVINO VARGAS]

Lovino smirked. It wasn't a surprise that the German had failed to come up with a good painting, even with his brother's help. "Do you still have it?" Really, it couldn't have been that bad.. right? Either way, he was curious to see what kind of a mess the other student had come up with.

"Science? It's so-" Wait. The Italian stopped himself short, promptly closing his mouth in realization. Was he really just talking to the German like nothing? He felt suddenly like he was caught in the act, and surprised. Wait, how was he supposed to feel? He decided to go with irritated, since he only knew that emotion too well. "It's, uh, stupid." A lie of course, but he wasn't about to give into a peaceful conversation so easily (although why it was such a big deal and something to avoid, that much wasn't known). "Math is easier. With y=mx+b and all that crap." Another lie. Math was confusing as hell to the brunette.

After yet another pause, Lovino couldn't take it anymore. "..What the hell's wrong with you!? You're just being so damn.. Gah! I know what you're doing you damn potato bastard!" What was the other doing exactly? He had really no idea, but to the Italian, this was just too awkward, or weird, or.. Whatever. He huffed, crossing his arms and giving Ludwig a pointed glare, although it was slightly confused.

[LUDWIG BEILSCHMIDT]

"No, Feliciano cried all over it and threw it into the lake." It had been a very memorable experience. It was probably the one time he¡¯d seen the usually cheerful Italian genuinely frustrated with something. Though it was probably just as well; the painting had been rather terrible, after all.

Ludwig frowned at the comment about science and math. Math was really quite a big part of science, he thought. Science was, at the core of things, just applied math, after all. And what was with that pause? It was like he was actively avoiding a proper conversation! Just when he thought he was making progress too¡­Why did the Italian have to be so frustratingly¡­ frustratingly¡­ frustrating all the time? He almost said something about his brother being easier to talk to, but caught himself just in time. That would only send Lovino into a fit of jealous rage, and that was what he was trying to avoid.

When the Italian exploded yet again, he sighed and gave in to the urge that had been plaguing him since Feliciano had begged him for paint and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "And what do you think that I am doing?" he growled, trying to keep his quickly fraying temper in check.

[LOVINO VARGAS]

If he hadn't just snapped at the German, Lovino would have laughed at what his brother had done. It was extreme, yes, but who could really hear that with a straight face? Unfortunately, he had, and now he found himself trying to think up another fake answer.

"You're.." The Italian caught the action, but blew it off, too busy with his own predicament to see how obvious it was the other was trying to keep his temper. The brunette had decided to move his gaze elsewhere. To the painting. The floor. The walls. The door. Back to the painting. The door again. The painting.. Yet the answer lied no where in these places, and he only grew more frustrated. "I don't know! But you don't just.. dammit." Lovino found no answer, and instead turned back to his painting, muttering under his breath and realizing he had probably just looked like a fool yelling for nothing.

It was just that it was so weird talking, just talking. Usually for him, conversations involved some kind of argument or at least a back-and-forth type of interaction. There was nothing wrong with speaking peacefully, it was just unnerving. ".. Whatever. Are you going to use that blue or not?" The Italian was still slightly embarrassed over what happened earlier, and decided to try to gather some sort of evidence or expert reasoning before barking at the German again. "If not, hand it over."