The chefs are Italian (Argentina)

[Romano]

Romano had only recently come back to the base, and there was plenty of work to be done, but he decided to visit the kitchen instead. It wasn't like anyone could force him to do any sort of manual labor anyway. He was quite good at refusing to work. Besides, they wouldn't want his help, he would only mess everything up and then they would yell at him and hate him and wouldn't ever talk to him again. Okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch, but they still couldn't possibly want his help.

Also, Romano had an important job to do, one that he had assigned himself, but important none the less. Since Eyebrows was running this whole operation, he assumed that the English nation would be in charge of the food too. If England's cooking was anything like he had remembered it, then he would starve to death before the first day was over. He would rather eat dirt than those disgusting scones.

He walked into the kitchen and immediately went to search the cupboards of their contents. He had to see what kind of ingredients he would be working with, and if anything in this warehouse was edible at all.

[Argentina]

Argentina strolled from the common den, into the warehouse kitchen. Having a sudden craving for Italian food wasn't uncommon for the thin young lady, and next to pastries, pasta with a side of asado was a meal that was to be had on almost a daily basis back home. Because no one else (Besides the Italy brothers) was used to making this Italian cuisine, Argentina hoisted herself to her feet to strut into the kitchen, head held high. She would gladly dig nail-to-nail and make her own lunch from scratch.

Without even a second glance at the man who had already been occupying the kitchen, Argentina headed straight to one of the cabinets to find some raw noodles to boil in a pot. But a sudden look of bewilderment washed over her at realizing there were none anywhere to be seen. Not in the fridge. Not in the cabinets. Not on the shelves, or pantry.

A quick glance over her shoulder, and Argentina knew exactly why. There, standing over the counter top, was a certain Italian who had been pulling out his own ingredients. A sudden feeling of recognition, and perhaps comfort flooded through Tina from head to toe. Now she was in the presence of Romano; a childhood friend (If you could call him that) who Argentina hadn't seen in at least the past two months. Safe and sound.

"...O-oi.. mi Romano?" She spoke up in both greeting and question. With a quick swing around as Argentina turned on her heel, she faced Romano. Tina gave him a hastened look-over from behind as she waited for some form acknowledgment from the man who stood across from her. There was no denying it, this was certainly the Lovino Vargas that she remembered from her own colonial childhood.

[Romano]

Romano had heard the footsteps come into the room, but he had chosen to ignore them. If the other person wanted to say hello to him, then they would. They were probably just here to get a little snack and leave anyway. He never understood how other countries could eat so little at one time, but then they ate all day long. Wouldn't it be simpler to eat three big meals a day? They didn't seem to understand that concept.

As Romano finished pulling out the rest of the ingredients he needed from the cabinets, he heard his name being called. I guess they did want to say hello after all. That, or he was doing something wrong again, but wasn't the kitchen where you were supposed to cook things? It wasn't as if he was planning on burning down the kitchen or anything.

He turned around to face whoever had been calling his name, and was surprised to find that it was someone that he knew quite well. Or, at least did know quite well. "Argentina?" he asked with a puzzled look on his face.

The last time Romano had seen the girl was when she was much smaller, he could hardly recognize her now. The only clues he had was her voice, and the fact that she had said 'mi Romano'. No one ever said that to him. "You've gotten bigger, but you're still a little shorty." said Romano, smiling a little.

[Argentina]

Watching as Romano turned around, he seemed to share in the mutual momentary look of surprise Argentina had on her face. The surprise Romano had, however, soon disappeared and was replaced with more friendly and almost brotherly expression. Argentina raised an eyebrow as a small smile managed to sneak its way across Romano's face. She found herself smirking as well, but that smile quickly faded as Romano teasingly commented about her height.

"Ch-ché, who are you calling short?" She huffed, but the young lady quickly back-tracked and decided against taking his words to heart. Hey, this was Romano. She'd let it slide... but only just this once. Over-reacting towards something that was clearly meant as no more than a playful joke certainly wasn't the way she wanted to greet someone she hadn't spoken to for a while now. The notorious potty-mouthed Italian could've said much worse, after all.

Argentina set aside the items she had gathered in her arms on her futile expedition to find the ingredients to make her own pasta, and hurried over to Lovino, taking his wrists. "But, you! You're... well... you're alive! Jesús Cristo, you're just a sight for sore eyes, aren't ya?" Now it was her turn to return a smile. "I'm surprised I didn't run into you around here ealier! I guess it's just all in the timing, isn't it?"

[Romano]

Surprised by Argentina suddenly taking his wrists, Romano tried to pull away from the sudden touch. However, he wasn't quite strong enough to shake her off. He was a little embarrassed by that fact, hell, he was very embarrassed by that fact, and his cheeks blushed a light red to show it. If he was getting this weak already, then he REALLY needed some practice. It would also be extremely embarrassing if someone were to walk in on them holding hands. This wasn't a little girl's slumber party and they weren't sharing a secret. "Would you let go of my damn wrists already?" complained Romano, turning his small smile into a frown again.

"And what do you mean I'm alive? Of course I'm alive! You think those brain dead zombies are smart enough or fast enough to take me down? They've got another thing coming if they even think they can try to take a bite out of me!" Romano exclaimed, feeling rather insulted that anyone would even slightly suggest he couldn't defend himself. He had an army didn't he? Well, not with him of course, but he did still have one.

"And, uh, well I guess it could be in the timing that we haven't met earlier, but I've been pretty busy doing stuff around the warehouse so that could be the reason too." suggested Romano. Okay, so maybe that wasn't entirely true, but if he tried to help too much, he would just end up getting in the way and messing everything up.

"So what are you doing in the kitchen?" he asked "I hope you still remember how to cook halfway decent food and not burn the whole kitchen down."

[Argentina]

After noticing Romano's struggle, Argentina's hands instantly loosened their grip and dropped back at her sides. She listened to Romano's short-lived rant about how he would be perfectly fine if he had zombies right on his ass, which was a bit of a stretch, but Tina didn't even bring up the fact that she constantly made very similar claims, herself. Instead, she just stood there and listened, before rolling her eyes. Oh yeah, Argentina has seen this far too many times before out of the Italian man. She was very used to this reaction out of him, and it didn't really catch her off-guard at all...

And then came the "I hope you still remember how to cook halfway decent food and not burn the whole kitchen down."

Now it was Argentina's turn to be offended at such an insinuation. Of course she knew how to cook - and her food was much more than "halfway decent"! Besides, it seemed that France, Spain, and both of the Italy brothers were who inspired her cuisine and taught her most of what she knew in the first place. To Argentina, not only was Romano insulting her, but he was almost degrading his own teachings.

"Of course I still know how to cook!" Argentina hissed, folding her arms over her chest. Her face was as beet-red as Romano's after realizing he couldn't release himself from her apparent death-grip on his own. "It's not like I'm just gonna drop everything and forget the skills that you yourself passed down to me... i-idiota..." Tossing a glance over her shoulder back at the ingredients both she and Romano had already set out, her eyes lit up.

"...In fact..." Argentina turned to Romano with a smirk on her face. She re-positioned her hands to sit on her hips. "I could prove to you, right here, right now; I'm just as good of a cook as you~ Maybe even better!" If there was one thing Tina loved, it was 'friendly' competition... especially when it ended in her victory.