Bad choices lead to worse paths

notes

These meetings would always be carried out in the same way, the British empire, France and the Us would begin the meeting, discuss battle plans and report the progress made along the western front. Italy had pretty much memorised everyone's reports by now and the speeches that went with them.

"With the recent failure to take Constantinople through our navy campaign, I have fabricated a plan to move troops through the Mediterranean sea and up into the Gallipoli peninsula, here."

He sighed, leaning slightly back into his seat, resting his head on the back of the chair. Britain's report had continued on as normal, pointing out the designated cove the soldiers would be landing on, and showing where they would continue to attack after capturing the coast line.

"Now Australia, New Zealand your men will be the first to arrive, you'll land at Ari Burnu and take the terrain surrounding the beaches, mine and France's soldiers will follow behind taking the coast further up the peninsula."

The countries who would be involved in the invasion had caught him off guard, up until now the two pacific countries, had rarely been mentioned or even showed up in such a decisive battle. Slowly he turned his head towards the two, his shock and concern growing further the longer he watched them, their body language showed anything but pride or joy. The taller of the two seemed completely unresponsive trapped inside his head as he stared absently at a spot on the wall in front of him.

"Well then I believe that draws our meeting to a close, France if you wouldn't mind staying behind, I'd like to talk with you."

Britain asked, drawing the eyes of countries that had previously glued onto the two twins.

"Hey, you're Australia, right?"

He asked, quietly watching the other pocket a lighter, he had a lit cigarette held closely to his lips. He didn't turn his head towards him, keeping his gaze held high into the sky.

"The one and only." he spoke sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he finally turned to look at him. He didn't sound rude or even judgy when he spoke, it was more monotone, like he was trying not to show how he really felt.

"And you are?"

"Italy."

He smiled softly, pulling a small decorated box from the pocket of his blazer. He pulled out a small stick, holding it out in his direction. He took the cigarette and Australia lit it for him.

"Well Italy, it's nice meeting you."

Italy nodded as he took a spot on the wall; the two of them had been standing next too. For a minute they stood there in a slightly awkward silence, and he was beginning to regret going up to him, but he had to know if he was okay. It was an impulse of his, to make sure someone was okay even if it was someone he'd never met before, it was just something his dad had taught him.

"Sorry for just showing up, but you didn't seem very happy back there, if it has anything to do with Britain, I can probably understand, I'm not a fan of the guy."

The words left his mouth before he could really think it over, he was just happy to find the others expression hadn't faltered, which was surprising, he'd always thought he was Britain's son, maybe he was wrong.

"Well I wasn't the most thrilled, but it's not Britain's fault, I'm choosing to fight by his side, this is my choice, not his."

His answer didn't convince Italy at all, it probably made his worry grow more. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself, that was worrying, but with the nicotine in his system he found it hard to focus on.

"But I can't help but feel like it's his fault, I mean surely it's not fully my fault, but it has to be, I'm an independent country, he doesn't dictate my choices... but it really feels like he does."