Capitals are just as strange as the nations, aren't they? Afterall, they are the sons and daughters of thy peculiar countries. Sometimes craziness is just genetic.

However, Hetalia: Axis Powers is an anime, manga and webcomic(s) based on the nations you see today, and their odd behaviours with one another, with themselves, and with other people. Since the show is centered only on the nations, our poor capitals are barely getting any love. That is why there is now many stories and artwork based on the capitals. Capitalia, what you're about to read, is just another one of them.

PLEASE READ: This story is a collab between Lifeisinteresting and Meme-Love. Although the idea at first seemed accidental, the two FF users have spent nearly two months creating Capitalia. They have tried their best to keep the personalities of the capitals as close to the actual city and country as possible, but not everything can be perfect. They would like you to read and review, and provide compliments and/or feedback, if possible.

If you have any ideas or concerns regarding the story, please PM either one of them.

Disclaimer: Lifeisinteresting and Meme-Love does not own Hetalia. It respectively belongs to Hidekauz Himaruya. They do, however, own the personified versions of the capitals in this story, but not the actual cities.

Capitalia: Capitals of the World

Episode One: A Typical Conference

"As all of you might have heard…" A young man lectured in the front. "My father, America, has suggested the idea of creating the hero, 'Global Man'. His idea is to genetically engineer, using a large percentage of the Earth's resources, a superhero equal to Superman's power. As his capital, I am here to talk about the disadvantages of this… suggestion."

Washington D.C. checked his clipboard, adjusting his glasses. He raked a hand through his neatly gelled black hair, wondering where to begin. The previous night before, he listed all the problems that were swarming around their precious planet. He examined that list one more time.

The other capitals stifled yawns. Washington D.C. had already ranted on and on about preserving water for fifteen minutes, and they honestly needed a break. Most of them sighed in relief at the sudden pause, then frowned when they realized that he was about to start another topic.

"First of all, to engineer such a hero, we would require resources. Resources that we don't have and/or running out of at this very moment. As I previously mentioned, water is one of these resources we are losing. Although water can recycle itself, the humans of the world are wasting water faster than it can restore. Look at many big lakes. They are filled with harmful pollutants, and are going down at least one meter every five years or so. As the capitols, we need to do something about this – "

"We are always doing something, aru." Beijing, the capital of China, interrupted, frowning. Her light brown hair was tied in an elegant braid, and she wore an orange blouse with a long, pink skirt. "Why can't the countries do it? They just sit there bickering endlessly and force each other to become one! Last week, Russia told my father that together, they could make the greatest nation ever, aru! Why we would want to lose our Chinese traditions to a few Russian laws, aru?"

"What was that about Russians?" Moscow glared at Beijing. As the capital of Russia, she despised anything spoken against her father. Her curly pale hair matched the color of the scarf she was wearing. She crossed her arms around her light beige coat. "At least the USSR flourished. I can't say the same for you Asians and your scary driving."

Her face lit up with anger. "For your information, China is a very developed civilization, aru. We are slowly becoming a world super power as our economy is thriving more day by day. A-and we are not bad at driving, aru! China, my siblings, and I all have licences."

"After six to ten times of retests! However, I have a bit of advice. If you want to pass on the first try, try to avoid crashing into temples, other cars and old ladies, da?"

"Which are probably what you Russians do on a regular basis, aru!"

Washington D.C. breathed out a heavy sigh. It was typical that one of the capitals would forget the fact that their in the middle of a meeting, and argue amongst themselves. He was usually the onewho had to always remind them to get back to topic. Taking a deep breath, the American was readying his voice to project a few meters near their area, until a tap was felt on his shoulder.

"Yes?" He turned around. A boy with dark brown hair and green eyes stood behind him, wearing a black shirt and a vest like sweater. Washington immediately recognized him as Rome, the capital of Italy.

"New York gave me a call on my cell phone - since yours was off - and he said he had something special to show you." Rome informed.

Washington rolled his eyes. "I specifically mentioned not to bother me during a meeting, so that's probably not him calling. But if he did happen to call, please tell him that I am very busy."

"Er… did I mention the surprise? He accidentally set your car on fire."

"He did WHAT?" All thoughts on the meeting escaped Washington's mind as he ran out of the meeting room, cursing under his breath. Rome let out a sly smile.

"Where is he going?" The capitals began whispering all at once.

"Really, Rome? Did you have to make up a lie just to get Washington to leave? The meeting still hasn't stopped, though." A boy around the age (physically) of Rome, spoke. He stepped up from behind the Italian, putting a tanned hand on his shoulder.

Rome's cheeks turned red, the same colour as the other male's vibrant shirt. "It's Saturday; even we deserve a break, Madrid."

The capital of Spain chuckled. "And do what?"

"Make pasta and hold parties!"

The word 'parties' grabbed Madrid's attention. "Party, si? So, am I invited? Will your cute sorella, Venice, be there? Hmm, perhaps I could go as her…"

"If you say date, I'm going to punch you very hard." Rome threatened, glaring daggers at the Spaniard, who was quite confused.

"You're going to - punch me? W-Why?"

The Italian growled, storming off to his spot at the round table. Madrid scratched his head, trying to remember what he had said that made Rome so angry.

"You're so oblivious, mon ami." A voice beside him commented, making the Spaniard jump. "You know nothing about love." The person took out a rose, sniffing it.

"Huh, love? No Paris, you've got it all wrong!" Madrid shooked his head at the Frenchmen. "He's probably still mad at me because I brought Spain's leftover turtles to his place. You know how much Rome hates turtles." And with that conclusion, he bounced off to his spot beside Rome, wondering if he could persuade the Italian on how adorable turtles were.

"I can't believe it. He's a good friend of mine, but is absolutely clueless when it comes to love. I haven't taught him well." Paris sighed, twirling his shoulder length blond hair. He tucked his rose into the pocket of his designer jeans, fixing the collar of his white shirt. A blue cape sat on his shoulders. As he stood there preoccupied with his shirt, a figure bumped into him.

"Ugh, why are you taking up so much space, Frog? If you want to molest somebody, go do it somewhere that is not in my way." He met eyes with his number one enemy, the capital of England, London. She stood there with papers in her hand, peering at him suspiciously through her glasses.

"May I correct you, my lady? First of all, I, along with my father, have never molested anyone before, and do not intend to. Ever. Second of all, you were the one that decided to bump into me. It is not my fault I am a women's magnet. However, I do not consider you as a woman. Perhaps a creature is more suitable for someone like you."

Her eyebrows (thinly plucked) narrowed down at him. "Very peculiar, because I consider you as both a creature and a woman!"

"Idiot!"

"Arse!"

"Did you just call me a horse?"

"I called you an arse, as in ass. But that is better suiting for you."

"I can't understand anything through that British accent of yours."

"If you think our English is misunderstanding, what do you think of your French?"

"Simply marvellous."

"In what world?"

Behind London, a capital was admiring the Britishwoman's slender figure. He loved the way her skirt ended a little bit before her knees, because that way, if he just bended down a tad bit…

"Stop looking, you pervert!" Stockholm, the capital of Sweden, screeched. Opposite of her quiet father, she was very loud, mainly at Copenhagen, the (perverted) capital of Denmark.

He cringed, and then turned around so he was facing the Swede. Stockholm had a nice body too, and perhaps, while she was lecturing him for the tenth time that day, she wouldn't catch him staring at her boobs.

The blue blouse Stockholm was wearing hugged her body tightly, accompanied by a matching skirt past her knees. Her blonde hair ended a little past her shoulders. Copenhagen absentmindedly grinned to himself, scratching the back of his blonde head. Stockholm crossed her arms, covering any cleavage possible to see.

"Don't you even dare think about it!" She screeched, grabbing the blue tie of his black suit. She pulled on it and the poor Dane made some sort of choking sound, indicating for her to stop. Stockholm released the tie, but continued to glare daggers at him.

Copenhagen rubbed his neck. "She's so violent. Helsinki is much cuter."

"What did you say?"

Meanwhile, at the back of the room, Minsk, the capital of Belarus, watched the figures around him anxiously. He was counting how many seconds it was going to take for them to start throwing furniture at each other and more importantly, how many he would have to dodge. He pulled the sleeve of his blue sweater back, gazing at the silver watch on his wrist. It wasn't long until the meeting was going to end; perhaps if he sneaked away, no one would notice.

Suddenly, he shivered. He felt a pair of watchful eyes on him. Turning around, there stood Kiev, the daughter of Ukraine, at a nearby distance. She was pushy, and maybe a tad bit interested in him, just like Moscow. Minsk held himself up and ignored the sound of footsteps. Or at least he tried to...

"Just. Ignore. Her," he calmed himself nervously, trying to control his breathing. Inhale and exhale, Minsk. Inhale and just exhale -

"Hi Minskie ~ "

"OH HOLY MOTHER OF BELARUS!" At this point, Minsk was certain his heartbeat had stopped.

Kiev put her short arms around the Belarussian, pulling him towards her. Minsk was very lucky that Kiev had small breasts, unlike his Aunt Ukraine, or else his face would have been in for alot. The Ukrainian girl began to stroke his soft brown hair, complimenting it after every three strokes. If this hadn't been her usual behavior, Minsk would have been very, very disturbed.

"Wow, you have such beautiful hair! What shampoo do you use? Do you use the same on as me? Your hair smells just like mine!" she asked/exclaimed. The blonde leaned in to take another sniff at the brunette's hair, sighing happily. Minsk squirmed under her tight grasp, wishing he was anywhere but trapped against her green blouse.

Finally, the male escaped her grasp, running out of the meeting room. Kiev followed in suit, as fast as her black half high heels would take her.

"Hey Tokyo, don't you think that's cuuuuuuuuute?" Seoul, the capital of South Korea, cooed, indicating Minsk and Kiev.

Tokyo only nodded his head, absorbed in the manga he was reading.

Seoul frowned at the Japanese. She reached over and grabbed his manga away from him, eyeing it with disgust. "You read this all day and night!"

"I do that because it is very interesting! Please give it back!" He protested, doing his best 'uke expression'. Seoul hated the fact that she always fell for it, and the fact that she knew what a uke was.

"Alright, but first answer my question. Why are you dressed up as Len from Vocaloid?"

Tokyo blushed, fixing his blonde wig. "It's for an Anime Convention. I'm going there after the meeting ends, which might be in a few minutes. The convention happens to be really close by."

The Korean rolled her eyes. "You're always going to places like that. No wonder I never see you dressed up normally."

"And it's not my fault if you don't like Anime cons. I took you to one once, remember? You were bored out of your wits."

"Of course I was! Anime just isn't my cup of tea. Music is. More importantly, South Korean music." She flipped her hair, which was dyed blonde up front, brown around her top, red for her streaks, and black at the tips. Experimenting with her hair was Seoul's favorite past time. When someone asked her what colors she dyed her hair before, she would normally give them the list of colours that she didn't use - which was very short.

Tokyo smiled. "I love Girls Generation. They're so talented."

"You only like them the most because they went to Japan like, thousands of times."

"At my request. If they weren't my favourite, I would have not called them."

"Whatever. Super Junior is my favourite!"

"Oh, Super Junior? Tell me, how is the restraining order that they gave you? Are you even allowed to think about them?" He snickered.

She turned bright red, matching the shade of her red and black sleeveless top. "Shut up! That was only once."

"Yeah, a year ago. I still have it on my camera! Do you want me to bring it ~?"

Seoul's patience snapped. She grabbed his neck, squeezing it. "Stupid otaku!"

He struggled to get free. "Please stop! You... you're too close!"

And so, the whole room turned into a mini reanactment of World War I. Until...

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?"

A loud yell echoed from the walls, beating all the other shouts and screams. Everyone was certain Washington D.C. had come back, ready to give them yet another lecture for their behavior. However, some jumped out of their skin when they saw that standing in the front of the room was not the American, but...

"Berlin?" Moscow and Beijing exclaimed in unison. They quickly released the weapons they had gotten a hold of.

"Ow!" Minsk cried, as he tripped over Beijing's axe. Kiev grabbed him, smiling at the advantage she had just gained.

"Ugh! And to think I spent my entire time arguing with this pervert!" London screeched, pointing to Paris. With a "Hmmph!", she moved from her position, walking back to her seat at the large table.

At the same place, Seoul released Tokyo's throat. He breathed in and out, trying to get the oxygen back to his lungs.

Berlin came in the room, glaring at everyone through his reading glasses. He rolled his indigo eyes at Minsk and Kiev on the floor, as if to say 'Typical'.

"Berlin, mi amigo!" Madrid skipped to the German, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What?" Berlin demanded with impatience.

"You've got - " Madrid leaned in, whispering in his ear. Immediately, Rome felt a pang of jealousy.

"WHAT? I wasn't at the bar!" The capital of Germany screamed at the Spaniard.

Madrid blinked. "What does this have to do with a bar? All I said was that you've got bird poop on your hair!" He pointed to the white gunk on his friend's light blonde hair, eyeing it with disgust. "It's almost invisible."

"The poop reminds me of Paris." London grumbled. "You don't want it around, but it's sadly there."

"Oui, well I can say the same for you, devil woman!"

"Bloody bastard!"

"I'm leaving." Berlin declared, crossing his arms over his blue coat and heading towards the door. However, every step he took seemed quite unnatural - slightly wobbly and uncertain.

"He's been drinking, hasn't he?" Madrid claimed as soon as the German was out of sight.

"What?" Rome asked, walking up to the Spaniard. "How can you be so certain?"

"Numero uno, he wouldn't leave a meeting just yet. For some reason, he seems to love these type of gatherings when he's sober. Maybe it's the chance to get to yell at people. Two, he's an angry drunk, which differs from his usual obnoxious personality. Three, his walking. It seemed messed up and disoriented. Plus, that wasn't bird caca on his hair. It was actually thick, colorless wine."

Beijing stood on her toes and tapped Madrid's shoulders. "I always thought he would be such an orderly man like his father, aru! Such a surprise!"

Paris began to chuckle. "Berlin? An orderly man? You are kidding, no? He is only like that during meetings. Outside of this room is a completely different story. Last week, he took off his clothes and started dancing in the streets."

"But he was drunk," insisted Madrid. "And so were we." He used his eyes to indicated Paris and himself.

Moscow scoffed. "I'm pretty certain that if you and the Frenchmen hadn't been making out in the corner during that time, you guys would have been with your lonely, naked friend as well."

"YOU WERE THERE?" The two men exclaimed loudly.

The Russian snickered, "Of course I was. By the way, that threesome you guys had altogether was pretty hot, da?"

Budapest, who had been trying his best to avoid the chaos, coughed as well. Any slight mention of anything related to yaoi made him feel like his mother Hungary was watching him. And that really wasn't a pretty feeling. "Please, just, just don't mention that kind...stuff," he pleaded, pursing his lips. "If Hungary hears that, she'll make me do things!"

"Yeah, your mama really likes that kind of stuff," Madrid said, stating the obvious.

"Uh-huh," Moscow agreed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"She's not always like that!" the capital of Hungary protested, waving his arms in the air.

Rome glanced at Madrid and bit his tongue before muttering, "It's not that bad, right...?"

"Huh? What did you say?" Tokyo scooted toward him, pointing a finger to his ear.

"I-I DON'T LIKE MADRID!"

"Eh? I didn't even say his-"

"SHUT UP!"

"Is that Rome I hear?" a familiar voice hissed from the door. The room went silent, and the clacking of footsteps echoed, each step practically stunning Rome. He went numb, but struggled to back away from Washington D.C., who had returned with an expression that said, "I'm gonna destroy your economy and get you sick, ruin your life, and turn you into my colony at this very moment, torturing you the whole time without killing you."

He stopped right in front of Rome, and peered through his glasses and at him. A scowl turned into gritted teeth as he observed every single twitch, breath, and blink the Italian made. "You," Washington said, spitting out the words with frustration. The man raised his hand and counted each offense Rome had made, announcing them as he did so. "lied to me, causedthis chaos," he gestured to the weapons and papers on the floors, "made me panic, and most of all, wasted another meeting that could have been used to HELP your PROBLEMS." He shook his head and adjusted his glasses.

"I'm disappointed in you."

Rome pouted, and chewed his lip, letting out a deep breath as Washington turned away from him.

"This is to all of you too."

Moscow's eyes widened. "What did I do, Ameri-"

"You especially. All of you are capitals, some of the most powerful countries in the world, and instead of trying to help yourselves and the country you belong to, you stray away from the very meaning of this gathering, and ruin our chances of achieving as close to peace as we can get."

All the Capitals suddenly felt the tension in the air grow thicker as guilt grew in the pit of their stomachs. Some looked down, while others opened their mouths as if they were about to counter Washington's statement, though no words came out.

Washington D.C. sighed, and spun around, about to leave the room.

Hey Rome, this is New York City calling, please answer the phone!~

Hey Rome, you gonna answer the phone or what?~

When are you gonna answer the-

Rome finally stopped ignoring the phone, and reached into his pocket, flipping the phone open and pressing it against his ear. He nodded, and furrowed his brows a few times before finally hanging up and closing the phone.

"Um... New York sort of...burned your car for supplies..." Rome awkwardly started, shifting from where he stood. Washington raised his head up, not believing what he was hearing.

"Yeah, and it exploded, and your house is on fire now..."

"Apparently, it's probably going to spread to some other houses. He said he just wanted to be a bit warmer, since, you know, there was a snowstorm..."

"Just saying," he ended with a shrug.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"I AM GOING TO KILL THAT LITTLE -CENSORED- BASTARD!"

Everyone in the room gasped.

"MEETING IS ADJOURNED! LEAVE! NOW!"

Without a single protest, the Capitals of the World filed out of the room, not believing what had just happened.

And they also felt the compelling need to watch Washington D.C.'s house burn.

EXTRA: Omake - "Where the Hell is Everyone?"

"Yo people! The hero has arrived! Missed me?"

Ottawa, the Capital of Canada, shouted as he strolled into the conference room. His blonde hair was neatly jelled back, except for one disobedient curl (which he totally did not just fight with in the bathroom today). He wore a smooth red sweatshirt, with a blue maple leaf on it, and loose jeans. He was absolutely certain he looked good, and was expecting seas of compliments upon entering the room.

Sadly, there were none, because there were no people inside. All was left behind was untucked chairs, belongings [such as sweaters], and papers lying around everywhere.

Ottawa glanced at his watch, puzzled. The meeting's supposed to be from 10:30 to 12:00 am, but it's only 11:30. He thought, wondering where in the world everybody was. He knew he was late - and that reason was because he had just bought a new video game and accidentally lost track of time - but he didn't expect any of the others to be as well.

Glancing at the scene again, Ottawa came to the conclusion that they had probably started the meeting, but for whatever reason, had to end it early.

Maybe they couldn't go on without me! He assumed inwardly, grinning his Heroic Smile. Uncertain what to do next, the Canadian took a seat on a nearby chair, staring at the gigantic board at the front of the room -

- That hasn't been drawn on yet! Ottawa ran giddly towards the green board, taking out a brand new stick of chalk. Usually, the board would be filled with diagrams, stick figures, chibis (if Tokyo was ever drawing) or anything in general. Today, however, it hadn't been touched once. The Canadian eagerly took advantage of this fact.

If the capitals ever come back to the conference room that day, the first thing they would take note upon was the unusual drawn faces of every capital on the board. The second would be the huge maple leaf at the center and the big, bold writing: 'ONTARIO DOES NOT SUCK!'.

04/10/2013: jesus i got the capital of canada wrong again why am i even real