((ALLONS-Y!))

Denmark click-clacked along the pavement in black boots, gently curling brown hair being played with by the wind. The meeting was being hosted here, in her very own city of Copenhagen. She had kept herself peaceful through these troubled times, much unlike other nations who had done otherwise. But she was beginning to feel the push to take a side. Oh, she didn't know what to do... She definitely needed to chat with her Scandinavian, 'brothers,' and had to find out what Germany's stance was during all of this. She was close to the formers and the latter was her only border-sharing neighbour.

Hoping dearly that the more aggressive countries would restrain themselves in her capital (unlike during their last meeting, where things had gotten out of hand and a window had been smashed), she opened the door to the hall specifically reserved for such times. Breathing in the musty air rich in history, she pulled out a chair at the head of the rectangular table and waited by it. "Nibbles, I forgot nibbles," she muttered, shaking her head and turning about. Nibbles were important. They distracted from aggression and the dissection of threats. She had to have some, somewhere! Hurriedly, the woman turned to the ancient wood cabinets arranged along the walls and crouched down to start going through them. She must have some pretzels, at the very least!

Usually, Iceland wasn't so great with the 'arriving on time' thing. He wasn't the type of person to walk in late with Starbucks, oh no. It was just his schedule was so jam-packed that nothing ever went perfectly and by afternoon, he was running into the door several minutes after the event was supposed to start. While this tended to irritate other people who made time for mistakes and such, Iceland was more than pleased with this. Sure he was late constantly but it meant that from morning till night, he was always doing sometime. He had no idea how some citizens of other countries just sat around, doing nothing. He couldn't stand any of that! He wanted to be doing something always unless he was sleeping.

But, these meetings were something special. Walking in the door late meant you could miss something vital or even end up in the middle of a fight between some of the larger nations. Very quickly on, Iceland had learnt the best thing to do was arrive early and make as much time as he could for the meetings. You had to clear the entire day since it could run late into the night, or stop not that long after it started. It all depended on how the Superpowers were feeling on that day. This was one of the days he wasn't feeling so good about the meeting. Tensions were high and on the rise and he was starting to get the feeling he should take cover and get out of the way. Wars were getting harder and harder to avoid but he wanted to make sure he would still be there when the ashes all settled down.

Iceland unzipped his wool sweater, having deciding the black and white coverup and a pair of tight black pants the best thing for the meeting. He was almost right on time but in terms of the meeting, people would probably just start to trickle in. He stepped up to the large, historic building and pushed it open, making his way quietly to the hall. It wasn't his first meeting in Denmark and although it had been some time since they had met in Copenhagen, he still remembered the large table with Denmark proudly sitting at the head. It had been one of his first world meetings and he had felt so proud sitting there, wide-eyed among some of the great nations. "Denmark?" He called out, adjusting the backpack on his back slightly so it did not hurt his shoulder so much. He had walked from the airport to the hall with his bag and the strap had started to dig into his shoulder. He was going to have to replace the padding there so it did not bite so much. But he couldn't just leave his backpack behind. Where would he be without his own, clearly better food to eat? He had nothing against Denmark, it was just Skyr was good any time and place and Icelandic chocolate couldn't be beat. Either way, it didn't look like anyone else had arrived yet. It couldn't be… Was he actually the first one to arrive? That never happened, even when he made a conscious effort to get there on time.

Denmark's hands found no rustling packets, much to her disappointment. Ah, well. They would just have to buy their own food afterwards. She heard Iceland's voice suddenly speak on the other side of the table, and a smile wormed its way onto her previously worried face. Iceland was always good to have around, and wasn't too aggressive. She suddenly popped up with a loud, "Hej!" not considering the possibility of scaring him. With a wide grin, she rounded the edge of the table and came close to him. She leaned forward to kiss his cheek in greeting and clasped her hands together in front of her. "You are the first to arrive here, apart from me. Unusual, no?" She laughed, but not nastily, her accent coming through with her words. "I understand why, though. Today will be... Important. Come, take off your bag."

Ah, good! The other Nordic was here! While Iceland was not a part of Scandinavia, he was a part of the Nordic nations so he felt closer to Denmark than other nations. But he had spent a long time with Denmark and she was probably his favorite of all the other nations in the world. He still liked to encourage Danish to be taught in schools, right after Icelandic and English. And she still knew his mannerisms. "Very unusual," He replied with a smile. He was not ashamed of his tardiness. But all laughter aside, this meeting was probably not going to pleasant. "Ah, hold on!" He replied, taking off his back and balancing it upon one knee so he could unzip it. The largest compartment was filled to the brim with ice-cold bottles of water and various types of Skyr, as much as he could fit inside without risking explosions. The bottles had acted to keep the soft cheese cold. He picked two out and held the top one out for Denmark to enjoy. Strawberry for her, blueberry for him. "I brought some to share. Many flavors as well. I thought this one might be longer than the others but I did not eat as many as I thought on the way over."

Denmark blinked bemusedly at his rather full backpack. Iceland was always prepared when it came to meetings and food. Oh, he had some of that yummy cheese stuff! When he held one out to her, she grinned again and took it. "Tak," she said politely. "My favourite, too! You remembered." Quite pleased, she unwrapped it partially and took a bite. Mmm. Much nicer than some of the other weird food that Iceland occasionally ate. "I wonder when the other nations will join us... We need to speak with Sweden and find out what side he is joining. As the countries making up Scandinavia, we need to be aware of one another." She looked up at him expectantly, taking another bite of the flavourful cheese.

As soon as Denmark took hers, Iceland carefully set his bag down on the ground so he could stand up. The pleasant little cups came with their own plastic spoons to make them very nice foods to eat on the go. He peeled the top off and dug the spoon into the top of the dairy product to start eating it. Skyr had to be the best invention of all time. There were so many things that it could be used for but it tasted just great on its own. But the spoon paused in his mouth as Denmark mentioned sides. Oh. Shuffling around rather awkwardly, he set the spoon back down in the Skyr, having not taken a bit from it. "Denmark, I'm neutral," he replied with a frown. Some would have found it difficult to actually admit but that would have just made things more difficult and cause problems later on. He knew could see the look she was giving him but fighting was just too much for him. "All I want is peace. If the rest of the world wants war, they can have one without me. I will not risk the lives of my citizens over someone else's arguments." He looked around at the rest of the room and sighed faintly. It seemed like every time someone was fighting, he was egged and pushed towards a side. But he wasn't going to do that. He was neutral! "Why can't we just do what we did in World War II?" He pressed, lowering the Skyr container slightly. "It was better when we did that. Better than sending our people off to die."

Denmark felt a bit of reassurance from his words - at least she didn't have to worry about aggression from him. But she shook her head, also lowering her cup. She leaned in a bit closer, glancing to the door. Germany was still sensitive about this topic after all this time, and she didn't want to upset him. "It may have been fine for you, but it wasn't for me," she murmured. "In World War 2, I was occupied despite being neutral. My people suffered, and many died just because of who they were. The wounds have healed, but the scars still remind me." Her grip tightened, and the plastic cup crinkled loudly. "They ignored the fact that I was neutral, and they occupied me - I wasn't strong enough to hold them off. He treated me better than the others, but I was still imprisoned." She remembered working as an unpaid maid, watching Germany from the sidelines as he rose and fell. "I have to find out what Sweden and Germany are up to. I'm on the mainland - you're an island. You have much land compared to me. It's different for you," she finished. Holding up the spoon again, she ate a bit more of the cheese. "I will need help if I am attacked."

How he hated the cold. He hated the icy winds and the chills that ran up and down his spine when the breeze found its way through his coat and jacket. Summer had just started in America and he was in no mood to face up to the freezing temperatures of Denmark. While he wanted nothing more than to skip the meeting and go back home, he knew that he couldn't. The blond couldn't skip any meetings these days. Many things could happen in his presence; he could have made himself an enemy to someone without even realizing it until a while later, or there could be important news updates that he simply had to hear. The United States of America, however, did not want to witness the start of another war. He had been in many battles- too many, he might add. His body was littered with fading and fresh scars, and every single one brought back bad memories.

America sighed, watching his breath puff out in front of him. The dark brown woolen coat protected him from most of the cold, and his hood was trimmed with fur, so he could pull it over his head if he got a bit too irritated with the wind. In his hands was an ordinary cup of coffee, something that he couldn't live without. Sometimes he would go to meetings with a cup of tea, but that was only when he found himself in a good mood. No, he needed energy. Something big was about to go down and he had to be awake.

He travelled down the street a few more feet until his eyes of azure glanced upwards to see a large, historic looking building. He walked up to the door and pushed it open, relieved to feel a blast of warm air hit him as he strode inside. What would he do without a thermostat? America experienced a variety of temperatures throughout the year, but he lived in New York City, where winters were long and harsh and summers were brisk and warm. While he wished that he could enjoy a few more months of summer, America decided that his home was definitely in New York- no where else.

He made his way to the meeting hall, where he saw Denmark and Iceland. America offered them one of his trademark smiles in greeting. "How's everybody doin'?" he asked rather loudly. "It sure is cold outside, isn't it?"

---

The silver haired man, however, was quite accustomed to the weather in Denmark. After all, he was the owner of the coldest place on Earth, which was Siberia, and all of his country was constantly in winter time. Russia didn't mind the wind or the cold weather- it was a chilly day for him at the most. His green eyes flicked up and down the street, a smile curling upon his lips as he hummed a song under his breath. The enormous man was not afraid to see the other nations, even if they met each other with bared fangs and unsheathed claws. Then again, what was he afraid of? Many people called him an old bear, being an older nation and all. But Russia knew that bears weren't one to be scared. He was... wary, to say the least. He was only wary of the actual Superpowers- the smaller countries yelping for war could go to hell.

Then again, he couldn't say that he wasn't itching for the sound of war. Life was boring, and Russia didn't feel like sitting around on his ass all day. Maybe he could toy with America and Britain today, and maybe some of the smaller countries, too. They were bossing him around too much, especially since the end of the war in the Middle East. Hell, they even placed sanctions on him before the Middle East had destroyed itself. I couldn't even do what I wanted with my own sister. his gloved hands clenched as he stared ahead.

The meeting hall was larger than he remembered... but when was the last time that he had come here? Probably around 2012... or maybe 2013... that was too long ago. He had better things to think about than the last time he had been in Copenhagen. His right hand pushed against the door, opening it ever so slightly. His emerald eyes flicked over his shoulder as he searched for any other nation that might be down the street. But, seeing no one familiar, he entered the building and walked down the hall. Voices could be heard from the meeting hall- America and Denmark were two of them... but the third was hard to place. Maybe it was Finland? Sweden? He didn't know, but he would know as soon as he got to the meeting room.

Russia peeked into the room, smiling at the host. The giant of a man stepped inside and dipped his head in greeting. "Privet," he said in a sing song voice. And with that, he picked a seat and sat down. He was sure that this meeting would be interesting.

---

It's nice out today.

The German nation did not enjoy the sweltering heat nor the bitter cold, and Denmark was neither of those things. At least, it wasn't in his opinion. To him, the nation was a tad bit chilly, but he wasn't about to complain. What he did complain about, however, were the winters that came with unusual amounts of heat. They had hit his nation quite a few times already, and Germany was quite sick of it. He would put away his fan for the winter season and then he would have to plug it back in in the middle of January. He hoped that this winter would bring a sufficient amount of snow, so that one could enjoy the season while it lasted.

Germany trotted down the streets, not a hair out of place, as he searched for the building where the meeting would be held. He wasn't late, but then again, he wasn't early. And he hated that. He was usually the first one there and the last one to leave. Germany was, in other terms, the general peace-keeper of the group. He would stop at nothing to make sure that no country would aim their guns or blades at each other, and so far, his tactics worked. But worry plagued him as he tried to sleep. His strategy worked, yes, but nations grew more and more tense with each other every meeting. Something told him that he should start picking sides, but he really didn't want to. Germany was no longer into pointing a barrel at another country.

Sighing, Germany ran a hand through his hair, glancing around the streets. Where was this building? For some reason, he couldn't find it. And when he couldn't find something, he began to get frustrated. He was already late in being early, and that pissed him off. The building had to be on the street he was on... oh. There it was. The German man allowed a relieved look to come over his face, and ran up to the door, shoving it open with his shoulder. He briskly walked down the hall and to the meeting room, where he found Denmark, Iceland, America, and Russia. Now, if America was there before him, then he was really late.

"Guten tag." Germany greeted, his voice friendly but his expression distant and disconnected like always.

---

COLD!

It was so cold. So very cold. Her skin was flushed and rough with goosebumps, and her nose was already running. Her fingers and cheeks were burning with the freezing temperature. Let's just say that South Italy was in a worse mood than usual. Then, when was she ever in a better mood? It was almost pitiful, seeing the small country- or part of a country, to be more specific -trembling in the middle of Copenhagen, Denmark. She was lost, alone, and believe it or not, afraid. She had no idea where her little sibling was, and since North Italy attended most of the meetings, she really didn't know what she was supposed to be looking for.

Damn it, North... why couldn't you have come at the same time with me? No, why couldn't you have come and I have stayed in Tuscany or whatever! Oh right... It was because of the mafia, right? They were acting up recently, and she knew that she really shouldn't be left alone. Yet, why couldn't she have gone to a warmer country than Denmark-?!

"Why is it always me that has to suffer?!" South Italy cried, her face one of anger and frustration. She always had to be the one that did all of the hard work, right? Her sibling sure as hell didn't have a farm on his land, and while they was the [somewhat] stronger sibling, they did much less work than her. Her amber eyes shot daggers down the street, a scowl beginning to show on her face. Her coat and scarf did nothing to protect her from the cold, she was hungry, and she was lost. Oh wait... wasn't that the building right there?

South growled under her breath, running toward the building and shoving the door aside after some effort. The building was warm, which cheered her up. Somewhat. The Italian woman huffed, walking to the meeting room and taking a seat without so much as a hello.

"It was better than if you had picked a side," Iceland replied, his own voice lowering. He supported equal rights fully but there were battles he just couldn't win. War was one of them. He decided not to bring up his own neutrality being abused as well and his occupation by two countries. But that was much better than being like Poland. "It would have been worse," he added before turning away to look at the new arrivals. America he avoided-not that he didn't like him, just bad memories were brought up. Nobody liked being occupied. But as more people trickled in, Iceland trailed off. The conversation had grown uncomfortable now and it was nothing to talk about now that others had arrived. He lifted his bag up and placed it on his back with one hand before taking a large bite out of his Skyr. He didn't respond to America's loud introduction immediately but did offer up a small wave as he found a seat near the middle of the rectangular table. He set his bag down on the back of the chair and flopped down in the seat, taking bites out of his Skyr.

He leaned back in his chair, breathing softly in between bites. He just had to be careful about protecting his fishing rights and asserting his neutrality and that was it. He wouldn't speak up about the Middle East or anything that wasn't his business. If everyone else wanted to run at each other, he wasn't going to get in their way. He was getting out of the way as quickly as he could and making sure none of his people got hurt. That was why he was here. "How many are coming?" He asked, looking up at Denmark. "And when is the meeting supposed to start?"

Denmark straightened up as America spoke his greeting in the meeting room. She gathered her manners, and turned around to see him quite near to Iceland and herself. The USA. "Hej," she greeted him with a polite smile. "It is colder than usual in autumn, but then you shouldn't come back in the winter, no?" Small talk. She could usually make some. That was what happened when you were such an old country. "Hej," she replied to Russia. That cunning old bear, whose eyes you could never trust. And again, "Hej Germany." She greeted her fellow Germanic country more warmly than the others (apart from Iceland). He was the large country she felt closest to, although he had grown colder again over the past few years. She thought it was the conflict he was trying to prevent. If he said he was still going to stay neutral, then she could as well. Any decision he made usually influenced her. Finally, South Italy arrived. She didn't even greet anyone. Well, she did look rather cold - it was a very different environment here. It wasn't unusual for her to get huffy over small things.

She turned toward Iceland, feeling her chest constrict at how he had moved away from her. It was silly, she knew, but it was like he was already disappointed in her. "Well, Portugal was definitely supposed to come. Oh, and I think Britain too." She glanced about at the faces and checked her watch. "it is supposed to start in four minutes - they have some time." That said, she took her Skyr, smiled at America once more, and headed down to her important place at the head of the table.

The door creaked open, and Portugal walked in. Dressed in his fine, luxurious clothes, with a solemn, dark look on his face. Portugal strided, one could almost hear the depression in the air. He took up a chair, and opened with a soft, whispy greeting, "Boa tardes, meus amigos"

Portugal sat, an overly dramatic expression of byronic internal torment on his face, the old nation oozing with Saudade. "So, what meaningless agreements are we going to come to at this meeting." He spoke, eyes heavy with morose. The nations were speaking, but what did if matter, it was all for this meaningless game they called life

"Britain," the country announced, following in Portugal's stride. A long, cane, black in color, was held at her side as she glanced about the room, her eyes observing those gathered with traces of contempt and, possibly, disgust. "Is here. No need to wait on my behalf." She looked down at her wrist, inspecting the time briefly before walking deeper into the room. "Is this all of us?" She asked, looking around at the others yet again, this time her gaze lingering on a select few. America, Russia, Germany. She was expecting some more nations like China or Japan. Well, she couldn't argue. It was her duty to be here and if they weren't here, she wasn't surprised. A lot of nations skipped these meetings. But she could complain about it loudly. She took a seat near the end of the table, one rather close to Iceland. The island nation didn't hide his shock at her choice and quickly moved his seat away from her as she set her cane down, crossed her legs and looked about. Iceland didn't enjoy England's company too much and they shared a rather irritating past. If there was anything England thought of him moving away, she didn't show it and instead gestured to the table. "Let us all sit. We should start discussing now before we all grow tired of staring at one another and grow uncivilized."

Denmark sat down in her chair, hesitating before placing the plastic cup on the floor next to her chair. It could look a bit silly, on this ancient mahogany table, surrounded by the nations of the world. That would not do. She looked up as the confident figure of Britain entered, loud as always. Well, that ticked the last confirmed member off the list. The rest had not RSVP'd. She rose, clearing her throat. "Today, we meet to discuss the state of our countries and any important issues. I shall begin with Denmark. My economy is strong, and many people are living comfortably. But some have noticed the aggression building between us. This is clear in the comics printed in newspapers, and the graffiti sprayed on a government building recently." Her nose twitched. "They see it, and I do as well," she finished. With a nod, she took her seat again. She had not said much, but today was more for her to observe than to speak. It was time for the next nation to take the limelight.

Portugal rested his head in his hand. While he certainly played the part of a depressed yet refined gentleman, but secretly, he was worried about the state of his nation. Money was power, and Portugal once had plenty of money. But now, he was becoming a Joke, his children were out classing him in economic power and skill. With Goa and Timor going their own ways, he was no longer the merchant king he used to be. It was a sad day when the Lusitanic Nation had to pay someone else for debts.

"We, the people of the Portuguese Republic, are moderately well. We do, however, propose a growth of free, fair trade between the nations. Our economy...is not what it used to be. And we seek to open the doors of goods between friends". Or so he said, for really, he just wanted back his spiderweb of trade routs and to hold loans and debt over the heads of the nations again. "It would be in the best interest of all of us, and allow us to build friendships through trade"

America simply smiled at Denmark’s words. She was used to the cold, while he was not. He wished that he was accustomed to all types of weather, but he much rather have the mild temperatures of early summer. He would immediately complain if it was too hot or too cold. Then, two other nations arrived—Portugal and Britain. The American was relieved to see that she was here; that way, if something went wrong, she would be on his side. They never labeled each other as enemies anymore. Of course, they were simply rivals that needed a good cooling off after they had an argument or competition.

Denmark started the meeting, and she began to speak first. The brunette was rather straightforward, jumping to the topic of aggression between nations. America watched her as she finished her brisk speech and got up immediately afterwards. ”My economy has been the way it has been for the past few years. Sometimes we are doing better, and other times we are doing worse.” America tried not to speak in a hostile manner, but he wanted to get his point across. ”What Denmark’s saying is true. Nations are being too hostile and aggressive with each other. The last thing we need is another war.”

”But, I have to say that if the aggression of the nations escalates to a whole new level, that the United States of America will retaliate if any attack is launched against it.” America let his words hover in the air for a few moments before speaking again. ”That’s all I have to say.” and with that, the young man sat down. It had to be said. he thought. There’s no way that I’m gonna roll over and show my belly to the world. If it’s war they want, they’ll get war.

---

Germany found himself comforted by Denmark’s friendly greeting. Last time he checked, they were good friends and had no reason to point guns or knives at each other. Even if their history was a bit… dark. Even thinking about World War II made him shudder—all of the things he did during that time couldn’t be forgotten. But he hoped to God that he could be forgiven. Though… it sure didn’t seem that way. There were some countries who would do anything to get back at him.

Denmark started the meeting herself, speaking about her strong economy and the countries’ aggression towards each other. Even though she spoke for a short time, one could tell what they were going to be talking about in today’s meeting. The Germanic nation began to grow worried—they had been talking about this for a while, going in circles again and again, and yet, they got nowhere. The countries showed more and more anger and hate toward one another every time they showed up for a meeting. Then, it was America’s turn. The younger nation announced that his economy was, as always, inconsistent. Even then, the American seemed weaker than usual—he looked thinner, and his sunny personality didn’t seem to show. Then he went on to say that America would defend itself if it was attacked, making Germany frown rather deeply. Typical. he sighed, running his hand through his hair as America sat down. I knew that America would say something like that. He isn’t one to back down so easily.

”Germany has been well.” the blond said as he got up from his seat. ”Our economy is bustling and our people are healthy.”

He crossed his arms, the frown on his face deepening even more. His brows knitted together and he glanced over everyone at the table. ”What are we? Little children screaming over knocked over blocks? Are we seriously going to go at each other again, so soon after what happened to those poor countries in the Middle East?” he barked. ”Do we even have a reason to start a war other than for our own pleasure? Can someone please tell me who was invaded or mistreated?”

---

The auburn haired Italian lady, however, decided to stay quiet. Tension was already crackling in the air and she had no intention in getting involved in any war. South Italy couldn’t even get in one if she tried. She was, to put it simply, only one half of an entire nation. Her little brother wasn’t even here and she wasn’t going to drag him into an unwanted battle. Not to mention that she really didn’t know how to fire a gun. Her brother probably did though… she focused on tending wounds and such. Oh, she did know how to spar with a sword! But this was 2045. No one fought with a sword anymore.

South sighed, resting her head on the wooden table in front of her and beginning to close her eyes. Maybe she should just nap. That way, if this meeting was really going to be the start of World War III, she could say that she took no sides due to the fact that she was sleeping. But… that could go wrong as well. She could make an enemy without even realizing it! Now that terrified her enough to keep her awake.

”Now, now,” South Italy opened her eyes to see Russia stand up, even when that German bastard was already on his feet. ”You say there’s no reason to start wars. But do you remember what happened to the Middle East? Now, whose fault is that? It certainly isn’t mine. Thankfully, the one responsible for the destruction of those poor countries is sitting in this very room.” And with that, Russia’s vibrant green gaze fell on someone who sat not too far away from him. South turned her eyes to see who was the poor soul he was looking at. It was America, who looked flabbergasted.

”Me?” the American barked, leaping to his feet. ”What the hell are you talking about? It wasn’t just my fault!”

Germany leapt from his seat as well, slamming his hands on the table. ”Both of you, shut up!” he snarled. ”Can’t you listen to what Denmark and Portugal were saying?! We can’t afford another war!”

Denmark listened to country after country speak. They were doing alright, acknowledging the hostility. Until the accusations began. Oh, dear. She watched Russia and America with sharp blue eyes, her body tensed in case a fight really did break out. But Germany was already on his feet, his sharp words making her jump. Heart fluttering in her chest, she had to breathe in deeply before rising. "The Middle East happened, and it is over. There is no need to start battle because of a war that did not even touch your land." She blinked, tilting her head slightly. "It is a weak excuse for battle. Blaming one country for one war resulted in another just last century. Is history now doomed to repeat itself?" She winced inwardly, making a note to apologise to Germany later. He didn't like to be reminded, of that time, but this was necessary.

((OTL I'm tired byee))

Portugal sprang up "Amigos, Amigos, there is no need for hostilities! We can all speak like reasonable nations. Yes, the Middle East happened, but we can't change the past, and it matters not who was respobible then, for if we point fingers and fight now, the coming violence will be all our our faults". The old nation looked around at all of them. His stern eyes watching "As the owner of the oldest empire in Europe, I know we'll when hostilities lead to break down. Now please, let us talk civily"

Oh gods, they were yelling again. It had barely even been five minutes this time! Iceland hunched over slightly, trying not to draw attention to himself as the big nations of the world began to point fingers at one another over the Middle East. Why did this keep happening? Did everyone really hate one another so much that they had to go at each other's throat every time they saw one another. They were all allies here, weren't they? He anxiously looked around before silently chewing on his Skyr. He really, really wished they wouldn't behave like this. He was too frightened to speak or get involved. After all, he didn't want to get himself into a war with any of them.

Simple words and announcements quickly escalated to full-out yelling and banging. England breathed in through her nose in short, shallow breaths as several nations rose to their feet. This was why the world couldn't have nice things. Not soon after Germany's hands smacked the table and he finished barking out whatever attempt he was making to pacify everyone, England finally decided to join the fray. "Look at yourselves," she declared, not rising to her feet like the rest of them but instead crossed one leg over another so she was more comfortably sitting. She would not stoop to their level of idiocy. But she wasn't able to just let the situation rest, either. Someone had to address how foolish they were being about this. If they didn't, they'd just keep at it. "It's simple; get over it. Wars happen, countries rise and fall. The Middle East just happened to be our next Rome. But if you continue to behave like toddlers and whine about it, I'll treat you like toddlers." She looked around, her eyes settling on her former colonies. "That means you, America," She added as her lips fell into a frown. "Just sit down and shut up and let the rest of us finish talking about our economies."

Even at the sound of Denmark, Portugal, and England speaking up against them, the two world powers continued to stare at each other. Russia’s eyes were narrowed as they met America’s, neither of them backing down. Even though Denmark’s mention of the war he had started made him uncomfortable, he had to admit, she was simply making a point. Germany sighed again, his eyes drifting to the countries that were trying to calm them down. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten up and confronted the both of them. That only added fuel to the fire, right..? The Germanic nation sat down, his fingers gripping the edge of the table as he tried to keep his cool. What was the point of meetings when everyone was going to be pointing fingers at each other? Maybe he should stop coming to meetings, then. There was no point in watching the world tear itself apart.

The United States of America, however, finally decided to heed the nations’ pleads for peace. With a huff, he crossed his arms and sat down, glowering at the floor much like a spoiled brat. Britain still thought he was a child… well, he could handle himself, thank you very much! He watched Russia for a while more before the even larger nation sat on his rear end. This meeting has to end soon, unless they want me to feed him his braid. ”I knew what I was doing, Britain.” he hissed over to the Englishwoman, his brows knitting together in anger. ”You shouldn’t have gotten in my way.”

He wasn’t one to snap at Britain, but he truly was irritated at the moment. And when America was angry, no one messed with him. But what could they do? I guess that they calmed me down for the best. Who knows what would have happened if I had lost my head?

”So… does anyone else have something to say?” Germany spoke up again, his blue gaze flitting over the nations at the table.

Northern Italy had lost his sister. It wasn't exactly an uncommon thing; he had gotten distracted after all. Still, he knew she would find her way to the correct building for the meeting, so he wasn't exactly worried. She was out of mafia territory, so she would be alright, as long as she didn't piss off any of the countries at the meeting, that is. He loved her dearly, but her short temper always put a strain on him. After all, he generally liked all the countries she tended to blow up at, and that put a damper on their conversations with him.

The Italian let out a small sigh, his breath visible in the cooler air as he checked his watch. They were late. He knew he was going to cut it close when he ventured off on this plan that distracted him so, but he felt it would be good for all parties involved, especially the one that stood beside him, the borrowed navy blue hoodie pulled tightly over his head that only the cold-nipped tip of his nose was visible.

"We're almost there, now," North Italy murmured to his companion, wrapping his fingers gently, but firmly around the slightly shorter man's arm and led him down the street towards the large, historical looking building. He could feel the other man tense tighter than a guitar string as they drew closer to the building, and his movements became jerky as the warm air of the structure greeted them as they entered. "Va bene," North Italy tried soothing his fidgeting friend, choosing to ignore how the other kept his hood up (it was rude to keep headware on in a building), knowing that if it made the poor man feel any better, he would let it slide.

Despite the other's reluctance, North Italy did not regret convincing (or rather dragged) the man out of the comfort of his home. He needed more socializing, to open up to people, as it wasn't healthy for him to remain locked up and alone in his houes for days on end, only going out to buy food. North Italy worried about him disappearing one day and no one would ever know, much like how he worried of South Italy being captured and tortured by the crime lords that ruled over the gutterworks of the country. Too much worrying would be bad for his complexion, so helping his friend help take care of himself would do both of them a whole lot of good.

The Italian stopped short of the room where the meeting was being held, his head tilting to the side as loud voices, muffled only slightly by the door, reverberated into the hallway. "Buon Dio, they've already started. They sound lively today, at least." He smiled at his own little joke, keeping a hold of his companion as he made an attempt to inch away and back towards the exit.

North Italy was distracted from his companion as his honey colored eyes trailed to another person leaning against the wall beside the door, a smile crossing his face at the sight. "Spanga! I did not know you would be here! What are you doing lurking about and not enjoying the company of our friends?"

The woman barely scrapping up five feet in height turned her bright eyes to the Italian, a smirk crossing her face. "I'm reveling in the sounds of chaos," she said with all seriousness in her tone, but her grin and glinting gaze betrayed her amusement of it all. When her attention was drawn to North Italy's friend, her smirk widened. "Awww, did North pick up a stay perrito?" she cooed, bringing her hands up to her cheeks and making a face of endearment. "Are you going in to show him off to all the head honchos and hooligans?"

Northern Italy smiled, ruffling the Spaniard's hair with a free hand as he moved closer to the door, shaking his head at her squawk of indignation at the sign of affection and ignoring her swat at the offending appendage. "I don't think Vati will be able to stand in there for very long with all that attention. He'll sit in the corner until things blow over, si?"
Not waiting for a reply for his rhetorical question, the Italian knocked his knuckles against the door before cracking it open to stick his head in, just in time to see America plop back down in his seat in a rightful fit, and Germany asking if there were anything else to discuss. "Oh, you already finished the yelling part? That means the meeting's already two-thirds over! I need to stop being distracted and wandering off to strange places." North Italy smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

There was a sudden yelp behind him, and Northern Italy found himself being shoved against the door and staggering into the room as his companion panicked and surged forward. A cackle determined that he had been startled by Spain, and judging by the way she was flexing her fingers in a menacing waving manner, she had successfully slipped her ice cold fingers under the other man's hoodie.

"It's okay, Vati, she's just being a dork," North Italy tried to console the other man, but his fellow Italian was too busy using North's body as a shield, his charcoal eyes now visible from under the hoodie, looking downright terrified as he hid behind Northern Italy.

"Oh, ciao sorella!" And there goes Northern Italy, distracted once more as he waved to Southern Italy, beaming. "Look who I found!" He patted the hooded Italian with a gloved hand, grinning from ear to ear as if he had personally won a match of football.

"Sí, sí, you brought the perrito with you," Spain rolled her eyes as she made her way over to the table, scanning over the occupants before flopping herself down right next to Russia, kicking her feet up onto the table. "He's very cute, but doesn't look potty-trained and would probably hide under the bed during thunderstorms. And hola to you, Giant." She tilted her head back to grin at the very giant nation beside her. "How is the weather up there in Tall-Person-Town? From the sounds of it, there must be some horrendous thunderstorms rolling in." She glanced over at America. "Better get an umbrella and head to the bar and down a few pints. Or liters. Really, you can't beat the living hell out of each other when you're so plastered you can't walk. I'm pretty sure Portugal there will trade you something, but don't get anything from the English or the Americans, because the English are cheats and the Americans are cheap. See? Problem solved. Can we go get drunk and be friends again until we sober up?"