"Ah, of course," England snapped back. Really, they had known each other since colonial times. She understood she represented the whole of Britain but why couldn't anyone for once just call her England? That's who she actually was and just once, she wanted to hear her actual name instead of the empire's name. "I forgot who I was talking to for a moment. God bless America, the international police and country that can do no wrong. Clearly, we are all in the presence of the greatest and most free country on Earth." One of her hands drifted down to grasp her cane slightly while the other shifted towards her torso. Trying to spit out what she was trying to say was difficult and the words were broken up by short gasps for breath. But she managed to spit out the last part of her last retort, at least. "Except, I forgot, you aren't either of those. If you shove your arrogant attitude back up your arse where it belongs, maybe I'll put my tongue back in my mouth where it belongs and we can all start acting like adults." She ended abruptly and turned away from the country, trying to recover her lost air.

Iceland took the call to say something else as his turn to rise up and say what was happening. He was ready, he already knew what he was going to say and everything. He started to stand so he could announce his own point and explicit neutrality when a sudden knocking at the door caused the other nation to quickly sit back down. Three new arrivals made their appearances, two of which he could identify. The other, not so easily. The hooded man was nowhere near as easy to make out as Spain and other Italy. Which one was North and which was South again? He took another large bite out of his Skyr, trying to wait until everything settled down again to speak. He wasn't going to interrupt anyone. That was asking for trouble.

"Spain," Britain began with a small shake of her head before offering a slightly amused smile. It was the most she could give, really. All this fighting was quickly getting to her and she was having difficulty staying quiet and nice. She wanted to grab her cane and just bash somebody's head in so they'd all stop talking for just a few moments. "I missed you so much. After all, where would the world be without your drunken ass stumbling down the street asking for handouts?" So her facts weren't exactly true but Hell, if Spain said she was a cheat, she was allowed to retort with a statement just as false. She didn't know if Spain was an alcoholic and honestly didn't care.

Denmark watched the two rival nations carefully, until they both sat down. She let out a soft sigh of relief, before she also joined them. These times were difficult. Everything had been so much easier at the start of this century. There had been many small wars and skirmishes, but at least two of the world's most powerful nations hadn't been at each other's throats. "I do not," she replied to Germany with a shake of her head. She really was glad to have him here. He was strong, but extremely diplomatic, and that was exactly what they needed at these meetings. She certainly wouldn't be able to pull those two countries off one another if it got into a fight, but he might be able to help. Just then, there was the chattering sound of southern European voices, and she was greeted by the sight of North Italy, Spain and another hooded person - Vatican? Spain started going on about getting drunk and not trading, placing particular emphasis on getting drunk. Denmark loved alcohol, especially beer and mead when she could find it. "I do not mind taking those who want a glass of beer to a pub, but we need to finish this meeting, ja? Those who have not spoken, please take your seats and do so." She nodded toward the new arrivals before turning back to the table. She had heard Britain's gaspy criticisms, but ignored them. After all, it was not her job to protect others from a sharp tongue. And a lot of it was quite true...

Portugal's head lifted when he heard the familiar voice. "Espanha!" He said, noding over in the direction of the woman. "Boa Tardes, amiga! I hope tome has been good to you, though it matters not in this game we call life. Still, I hope the game is as pleasant as possible."

Portugal knew Spain well, the two grew up together as next door neighbors. As kids, they fluxated between mild arguments, to violent fights. When they got older, they mellowed out, and Portugal no longer bore ill will to her. "IF you are interested, I just got a stock of port wine", he pitched to her "we can talk price later, come come, tell us how you have been". When Britain raised her criticisms, Portugal gave a sharp glare, saying no words, but most definatly getting his point to her.

Britain, it was her who ruined the trade routes, it was she who monopolized Africa and the Americas. It was she who dominated Asia with Opium, she was the reason for his decline. And the product of her colonialism, America, further responsible. Portugal need not speak, she would know just what he had to say.

Southern Italy didn’t like how this meeting was unraveling itself. Why couldn’t she just have stayed home for once? She could have just curled up in bed and slept throughout the day. She could have promised her brother that she wouldn’t leave—which she wouldn’t. Why would she leave? She could have been curled up in bed, then she could have gotten up and eaten and watched television. But she did suppose that meetings were important, and she had to attend them. A knock at the door sounded, making the Italian woman perk up. In came three more countries—her brother, Spain, and a scrawny hooded man. She knew who all three of them were, even if the last one was hard to recognize. ”It’s about time that he got out of his house.” South Italy told North, curling a strand of her hair around a finger. ”I was beginning to think that he was dead. C’mon, stop standing there like idiots and sit down already!”

America tossed Britain a scowl. Today just wasn’t his day, right? Maybe he should just leave. Truth be told, he wanted nothing more than to get up and go home. It was too cold and hostile here—they were blaming him for something that wasn’t entirely his fault. Thankfully, not that many nations were here and thus the meeting would be short. The mention of going out and getting drunk reached his ears, and he turned his head toward Spain. ”I’m not cheap.” he complained, looking much like a little kid at a rainy parade. ”But… I have to admit, I’d like to go and get a few drinks myself.”

Russia blinked when Spain sat next to him, kicking her feet up on the table and asking how he was. The silver haired giant of a man glanced down at her, offering her a smile. ”I’ll go and get a few drinks when I’m done here.” he told her. ”But seriously, some nations should learn how to respect their elders.” he turned his gaze back over to America, glowering for a moment, before looking back at Portugal. ”Wine sounds great, really, but I prefer some of the heavier stuff. I’ll make sure to try it, at least. I’ve heard that wine from your country is delicious.”

Germany, however, was quite irritated with the interruption. ”Now isn’t the time to talk about drinking and getting drunk. We’re in a meeting for God’s sake.” he looked at Iceland. ”Iceland,” he began. ”Do you have something to say?”

England blinked several times as she met Portugal's glare. Oh, she knew very well what he was angry about. When it came to monopolies, she was one of the best. Her sphere of influence was incredibly high. After all, were they not all speaking English now? England had practically shaped the world how she wanted from day one and even if her former colonies did not realize it, they were doing the same. Even America, the rebellious one who set off explosions in honor of breaking away from her only helped her influence constrict around the world. Asia, Africa, the Americas, all of them. There was barely a country left in the world that had not been influenced by her in some way. And sometimes, countries like Portugal ended up in the dust. But it was all just business and it certainly didn't bother her. "I agree with Germany," She replied flatly. "While it is no concern of mine how you spend your time after this meeting, we are devoted to a constructive discussion right now. We've scarcely begun."

She looked over at Iceland who, unsurprisingly, did not enjoy being on the spot at the moment. Yes, he wanted to speak. He wanted to get his turn and speak his mind. But he also did not want to stand in the way of other countries arguments. Still, feeling pressured by the woman next to him staring rather pointedly and Germany's own statement, he slowly rose to his feet. "Iceland's economy is doing much better than our crash but we've expressed concerns about fishing regulations on the rise. While we don't really care how other countries fish and their own regulations, we want to ensure that no pressure will be put on us to change our own regulations. Fishing has long since been a part of our culture and is very important to our fickle economy." He took looked around the room briefly before continuing, mentally bracing himself for some kind of backlash. "You all certainly remember the eruption a few years ago of Eyjafjallajökull. We are currently on guard for another eruption, this time from Helka. All sources point to this eruption being quite soon. In the past, Helka's eruption caused the temperature around the world to drop for about 18 years. Either way, a large ash cloud could cover parts of the globe again so it would be wise to prepare just in case another eruption occurs. As a reminder, the ash is dangerous to aircrafts and as soon as it does erupt, you should ground all of them to avoid injury."

Spain grinned over at the Englishwoman, the thinly covered insult not seeming to dim her smile. "You world would be boring as hell without fire without me! Someone has to keep you from being downright depressing." She stuck her tongue out in defiance. Spain and England's relationship was. tense at best. There was the thing with the Armada, and squabbles over territory, and other things and stuff she didn't feel like remembering at the moment, so she hated the other woman just to spite her. Well, not exactly hate, but mutual dislike was probably the best to describe the situation between them.

Rolling her eyes, Spain ignored England in favor of turning her never fading grin to Denmark at her agreement of joining in the drinks later. Meetings were an utter bore when they weren't fighting over something, and that's why she came- to make things interesting and veer as far as topic as possible and see the results. So far, her voice of drunken reason seemed to do everyone good.

A familiar call dragged her attention from Denmark and towards someone that made her smile become more genuine, almost breaking her face. "Portgual! Cómo estás, mi amigo? Lining your pockets with gold, are you?" She laughed at his words of wine, waving a hand to brush it away. "Sí, sí, you can pick my pockets later of all my loose change. Now don't you bite England's head off without me!" Maybe she can convince him to egg the stuck-up English git's house later...

Oh, and America wanted a good stiff drink later too! Ah sweet, her drinking group was expanding!

Spain looked up at the large country seated beside her, craning her neck to actually see his face. "Respect is earned, not given," she said sagely, patting the giant nation's arm. "Or a good beating will do to get rid of the rebellious tendencies. Although some people find that kinky, so I have no idea if that will actually work." She waggled her eyebrows before rolling her eyes at Germany as he spouted out in his usual I-am-serous-and-everyone-listen-to-me tone of voice. She heaved a sigh, rocking back on the hind legs of the chair as she folded her hands behind her head.

Meanwhile Northern Italy smiled over at his sister. "He isn't, so it's good!" He did start though when the female Italian told her to sit down. "Oh! Sí, of course! Come on, Vati, you can sit between us." He gently tugged the other man, who had pulled the hood low over his face again to hide under towards the table, seating him down beside South before taking the chair on Vatican's other side for himself. The other man curled in on himself, shivering slightly as he sunk low in his chair, tempted to slide completely under the furniture and through the floor in order to get away from everyone.

North sighed, patting the smaller man on the shoulder as he turned his attention to Iceland. "Oh Dios mío, if there's anything you need, Iceland, let me know, I'll try to help as much as I am able to!" Italy knew about volcanoes and their destructive tendencies. Although there won't be much he personally can do, but even if he was there just to be a presence to let Iceland know he wasn't alone would be enough, or so Northern Italy felt.

Denmark's expression became worried as Iceland went over the possibility of a volcanic eruption from his land. Oh, no... She remembered how he became weak and ill from the last one. Hopefully this time it would not be worse. "Thank you for letting us know," she said, quite concerned for the one she considered a brother. "I will aid you if you find yourself needing help in such a difficult time." Natural disasters usually hurt a country terribly - it was lucky that Iceland could at least prepare for it. It wouldn't be as bad as in times of old.

Massive sheep death, crop failure, volcanic winter. These were only a few of the things that happened in the past as a result of an eruption. But the worst part had to be the famine and watching his few citizens collapse under the stress the eruptions caused. The volcanic eruptions did not pass him by, either. Even when scarcely anything happened, he coughed up soot and ash and came down with a terrible fever. Even preparation to help his citizens couldn't avoid that unsightly side effect. But he didn't want to get involved. With tensions rising, he did not want it to appear that he was picking a side when countries attempted to send aid. "The concern is appreciated but I request it stop there," he replied firmly, having not sat down yet. "I am aware the side effects of such natural disasters are devastating as I have felt their blow often. But another fight is in the rising. The tensions are growing higher and higher and it is troubling for a small nation like myself. As such, I would like to declare my neutrality now. Please do not involve my people in any of your fighting or arguments and respect my neutrality." Finally, he sat back down, hoping none of the nations took offense to his words. He just wanted to avoid a fight.

A man with wavy brown hair walked down the damp street with a rose behind his ear and a tune in his mind. He had gotten distracted on the way to the world meeting - but he wasn't able to help himself! It was just the way he was. He had seen a group of beautiful woman, and had - well - he had spoken to them, told them in his usual suave way that they were all lovely. And he had gotten into a chat with them. They had asked for his number, but unfortunately he had needed to make an excuse. He had made mistakes with human women before - Madame de Pompadour had died so young, and that had made him an extremely sad man for a good couple of months. He didn't want that sort of heartbreak again. But his flirtatious ways could never be beaten down, and he wouldn't abandon them. He loved all beautiful things... Sighing poetically, he turned to head up the steps and knocked lightly on the door before entering. His dark eyes swept the room, and he smiled slowly in apology. "Bonjour! I am sorry about my lateness, mon amis," he purred, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. "I became... Distracted. Now, do tell me, has England used her sharp tongue without me here? I must know." He smirked at her, raising his eyebrows twice before walking forward and dropping into a chair with his usual cool style. It was just a joke, but he knew he was poking her buttons. It was fun.

Denmark found herself slightly surprised by Iceland's announcement; the way that he spurned her offer of help. She hadn't been thinking of it in that manner, but she would indeed respect his neutrality. But she was not sure whether or not she could do the same. So long as Germany stayed neutral, she could as well. She would cross that bridge when she came to it - for now, no declarations. "Alright." She rested her elbows on the table, clasping her hands together. "Does anyone else want to speak?" she asked. Her eyes drifted to the Italians - none of them had said anything about their own countries. South looked sulky, and Vatican was just, well, hiding away as usual. Maybe North would have something to add, or someone else might want to speak again. Then there was a knocking on the door, and France entered with his usual smoothness. And then he was poking fun at England... well, then. She didn't know how this would turn out.

"Well, well," England muttered, his eyes fixing on the newest arrival. Her tight-lipped from twisted into a sarcastic smile as she cocked her head slightly to the side. "Look who finally managed to make an appearance? Tell me, were you pissing on the bushes outside or just flirting?" She hated France. Beyond the typical indifference or minor annoyance, France was probably the one nation that she hated more than any other. Years of war had meant the two, or at least England, were spiteful of the other. "If you must know, I've been trying to hold my bite in. But now that you're here, it's clear nothing will get done so I suppose I can stop restraining myself." She leaned back slightly in her own chair, her hand coming to rest on the cane sitting nearby. She did not actually need it to walk. No, nothing of that sort. She kept it there to smack around other people until they fell into line. It was a weapon of the best kind; the kind that was legal to carry on airplanes. But she turned to Denmark and waved a hand idly. "Nothing from me. Or, at least nothing you all wouldn't already from the news."

France watched the woman, smirk not disappearing. She really did hate him, didn't she? France disliked England, but he didn't openly hate her like he used to. Still enough dislike for him to feel he should argue with and poke at her with every opportunity. "Ah, but it is not my fault that I am so approachable and... What do you English say? Radiant? You are simply jealous that no-one will approach such a cold person as yourself." He sat up in his chair and ran a hand through his carefully styled locks. "Allor, I wish not to hear your sharp tongue in that rough language at this moment - I wish to hear what I can for what is left of this meeting."

Denmark nodded politely. Her gaze skipped along - Germany, Portugal, Russia... Then the Italians. She felt the need to have some sort of idea of how their area were doing. And maybe they would give something away. "Italy? Vatican? Do you wish to speak at this meeting today?"

((Please excuse my abominable French, any French speaking people - I haven't spoken it for two years. XD))

The ground outside had a slight pitter-patter of clicks as a small woman made her way to the place of meeting. Her red hair had been tied back, and a long, blue coat was wrapped around her. Macau questioned why she was even attending a meeting. Normally, China would simply give her a run down of the events of that transpired, but now she had to go by herself, likely China did not see it as important. Non the less, it would be good for an Asian voiced to be in the meeting

Macau entered into the meeting, arriving just to see the Italians being called upon. "Nei hou," She said softly, before taking a seat. She figured, if anyone wanted information from her, she would wait until she was called upon.

Northern Italy visibly drooped when Iceland figuratively slapped his hand away, stating he did not want to others to draw the wrong conclusions. It was true, though, if one country aided, and Iceland accepted, the enemy of that aiding country would have their feathers ruffled. Why did everything have to be so complicated? There could be a disaster equal to that of Pompeii, yet the island nation would not take any help from anyone. He would choose to bear the brunt of the suffering alone rather than allowing aid and risking unconsciously siding in a dispute? It was... well, disheartening for North. Maybe he could smuggle some help in anyway? No, that would make Iceland angry if he ever found out. He didn't like seeing his friends get hurt.

Italy blinked as the door open, drawing his attention to the presence of France. The Italian's sad demeanor broke as a friendly smile spread across his face at the sight of another friend, waving at the Frenchman from his seat at the table. "You should lay off on England for a bit," Italy said, still smiling. "She's scary when she gets angry." Really, Italy may be easily distracted, but even he noticed how this meeting seemed to be a 'let's pick on England' day. He didn't want anyone to blow a gasket and start a huge, loud argument again. He didn't want to witness his friends fighting, not when they just calmed down from one previously.

North jumped when Denmark turned her attention onto him, feeling Vatican cringe when she mentioned him as well. He blinked for a moment, as if suddenly realizing he was in the middle of a meeting and that he was supposed to say something about things in his own home. "Well," the Italian said slowly, his gaze drifting to Spain. "Espagna and I have discussed a few problems that have effected both of us. Our economies tend to be driven by the influx of tourists, and with international travel on the downward slide, we are starting to feel the pressure."

"Also," Spain added, now rocking back and forth on the back legs of her chair by pushing her heels against the chair. "Our local sea levels have seen a rise. Yo no sé if the sea themselves are on the rise globally or just the local area, but it's un problema."

"Sì, our ports and beaches are are risk of being swamped," Italy finished sadly. All those people who would lose their homes and jobs if it continues...

"On another note," Spain said, her grin widening as she turned her attention to America. "The cliffs of Cumbre Vieja are still up in the Canaries, so there will be no mega tsunamis to wipe your entire eastern seaboard off the map. Other than that, nothing else to report from me." Oh, how that was one little tricky business right there. It wasn't really spoken much about, but on one of the Canary Islands was a volcano, of which the eastern seaside of it was very unstable, and its collapse of several billion tonnes of rock would simply slide right off and plunge into the ocean, which in predictions would cause a wave up to 300 feet high and would clobber places like England, Brazil, and, to the most damage, the entire east coast of North America. It would be sad indeed to one day wake up and have the entire state of Florida and the entirety of New York City be gone. All those silly natural disaster movies involving the famous city were utterly wrong. There wouldn't be a city left to fix up. After all, the island was just a gravel pit with no natural bedrock, and Florida was mostly sand and limestone, all of which were either very water soluble or easily erodible.

Although, Spain mused to herself, how much of this did America even understand in that pea-sized, one tracked mind of his? And how much would she get blamed if it ever happened? What, she couldn't just evaporate billion tonnes of rock off the face of the Earth, that would be plain ol' silly. Besides, America could use a reality check, even if he did have a ticking time bomb under...what was it called? Goldenstone? Yellow Hoe? Whatever, it was a giant ass volcano, and it would suck if anything happened to it. Oh, the wonders of natural disasters that none of them could do to fix... And they were sitting here trying not to wring each other's necks because they couldn't sit still for five minutes and have a drink or two to relax.

"The people are worried." A soft, light accented voice rose as a whisper from the pause after Spain. Northern Italy nearly fell out of his chair, which caused Spain to choke on laughter. A pair of charcoal gray eyes peered out from under the blue hoodie that Vatican wore, the little of his face that was visible was pale and drawn into an anxious, nervous frown. The man shifted again, his eyes trailing back to the table. "T-they are starting to sense the tensions between the countries, the coldness...they fear another conflict brewing again...but...many are tired..." He mumbled something else inaudible, most likely under the lines of an apology of interrupting their meeting as he slid lower in his head, his thin fingers wrapping around the edge of his hood to pull it down low over his face again to obstruct his view of everyone else. Northern Italy patted his back in reassurance, a smile on his face, but Vatican was too busy hiding from everyone else to notice. Leave it up to Vati to pick up such things from his occasional trip to the markets. The Italian people would want to be financially sound before deciding to dig their claws into wars again, but they weren't much for fighting anyway, preferring the peace over strife.They would, if they had to, but they would rather sit back and enjoy the sun and good food with even better friends. But with their economy on the rocks... even a little scuffle would send them off into a worrying panic.

"Sì, I believe that is is from us, unless South has anything to say." He smiled over Vati's head at his sister, wondering if she had anything to add.

(accidental double post for some ungodly reason. I only clicked the button once...)

France smiled at Italy, raising a hand to wiggle his fingers at him. "I'll refrain from teasing la petite anglais fleur, then," he said with a wink. He liked Italy - he was almost as stylish as France (in France's opinion) and also appreciated food and art (although France thought his much better).

He listened to Italy, how he and Spain were suffering from the downward trend. France had not felt it as badly, with the famous Eiffel Tower and the attractions of the French Alps and the beaches in the South. Although his beaches could be swamped too. The man frowned.He was lucky, but there had been background notes on how not quite as many people were travelling anymore, and how some beaches were having to have an eye kept on them. "Oui, my beaches are feeling the effects of climate change as well," he agreed with a nod. "We may have to start using the Netherlands' technique to reclaim land if it becomes bad in the future." It was then that Vatican began speaking. Why yes, people were noticing. They were in his country, so they probably would in other countries. He read the newspaper and walked among his people - he heard the whispers of unsureness all the time. And the truth was, he wasn't sure either.

Denmark nodded to Vatican. "Thank you," she said kindly. It was good to hear that other citizens were noticing as well. Vatican had revealed that they would not want to fight, or at least that they would be tired. So they did not want conflict either. She straightened in her chair and cleared her throat. "Right, I believe that we are finished for today. Thank you everyone for coming - I hope that you take away something from here to think about. Maybe we can find solutions for our problems by the next meeting. Ja?" She smiled at them all hopefully before she rose, near-empty container of Skyr back in her hand once more.

World Meeting this, World Meeting that. Sometimes, he wanted to poke his head in and see what they were talking about in there. But the last time he had done that, England had hissed at him that he didn't belong in there. He wasn't a nation anymore, she said. And she was right. But that did the beg the question of why he was still here. Everyone had expected him to just disappear as soon as he was formally dissolved. That's what usually happened or was thought to happen since all of those other nations no longer existed. Great nations like Rome and Greece disappeared and never came back. But instead, he just lingered behind, to the annoyance of many and confusion of him. He puffed out his cheeks slightly as a long, slow sigh escaped past his lips. Lifting up a small pebble from the ground outside the building the other nations were assembled in, he began to toss it up and down. Spain and France were there, right? Maybe he could round them up and have some fun. Not actual fun, of course, since fighting was strictly forbidden now and he couldn't just waltz down the street and beat the shit out of whoever looked at him funny. But something along those lines, maybe involving some violence and rage. He walked back and forth in front of the building, pacing slightly and generally disturbing the regular humans to walked by. He did look rather suspicious with his squinting and throwing the pebble up and down. Plus, the white hair and red eyes tended to make people double take. It wasn't a problem now as much as it was in the past.

England opened her mouth to respond to France with another, possibly more snarky remark. But when the meeting took an unexpected turn towards actual efficiency, she hesitated. It was good that they had somehow gotten back on the right track and she did not want to be the one to ruin it. So she forced her mouth closed, digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands to help her resist the temptation of berating France once more. She'd pay him back in kind, certainly. Just as soon as the meeting ended or fell back into disarray. Whichever came first.

Trying not to focus on him at the moment, she turned her head to listen to the conversation about beaches and tourism. Luckily, tourists rarely came to her for beaches. It wasn't exactly what she was known for. But Vatican's speaking caught her attention more as she tilted her head to observe his careful words. People were worried. But people would always worry, it was their nature. All they had to do was prevent a war and their worries would be for nothing. It seemed like a simple enough task but, in actuality, it was much more difficult. They already had their jaw's around each other's throats and only one of them needed to bite. That was how it always had been. "I think the next meeting should be in London," She declared as her hand shifted to her cane and she used both it and the arm of the chair to help her stand up. "That ended more quickly than I imagined considering the circumstances."

Iceland listened in silence as the meeting drew to a close then silently set about zipping up his bag. Thankfully, nobody seemed too offended by his volcano comment. He just couldn't bear dealing with his people getting involved in a war, especially not following a volcanic eruption. It would be hard getting through it on his own but it was better than being invaded and overrun by people. Lava could be diverted and channeled away, even cooled. People were much harder to deal with.
He held his empty Skyr container tightly in one hand while his other lifted his back up onto one shoulder. He pushed his chair back in with a leg then looked about the room briefly before turning to Denmark. There was no war now and no volcanic eruption. He could still be somewhat sociable. Moreover, he needed a trash can and didn't see one in the room. "Could you point me to the nearest trashcan? I don't see one in here."

The meeting went on rather well, Germany thought. Spain and Italy spoke about their gains and losses, and then, Vatican went on to speak. France showed up at the last minute and gave his little speech. Macau was there too... but frankly, Germany was beginning to grow impatient. He just wanted to go and get a few drinks. And so, when the meeting was over, Germany brushed off his clothes from any dirt that he might have gotten from sitting down and smiled at Denmark. "Thanks for hosting the meeting, Denmark." he said. "But I think I need to get some fresh air."

The German waved goodbye and pulled on the coat that he had worn to the meeting. He had a feeling that it would be cooler than earlier... and even though Germany didn't mind the cold, He didn't want to be colder than he had to. He walked outside and onto the sidewalk, glancing up at the sky. It had gotten cloudier than before, and the wind was picking up. His breath came out as puffs of vapor in front of his mouth. I need to get home. he thought. I can drink by myself. I don't want any arguments.

---

South Italy was happy that it was Italy's turn to talk. Of course, he took all of the attention, along with Spain and Vatican, who never spoke up. The Southern Italian snarled, crossing her arms and glaring at the wall. After they finished, they turned to her. South Italy perked, opening her mouth to speak- but France came into the picture, talking about himself after a quick jesting contest with England. Ugh. She hated that bastard...

After he said what he said, the meeting came to a close. South Italy shook her head. "Spain just had to talk the most and take up all of the time in the meeting, right?"

America glared at England, shoving his hands into his pockets as she said that the next meeting should be in London. "I think I've had enough gloomy weather for a while. The next meeting should be somewhere nice. Like Washington. There's a lot to see there!" he turned to France, frowning a bit. "I'd rather go to Paris. The food is better there, anyway, even if the people are crap."

Something was obviously wrong with America. He was supposed to be cheery and be able to make himself laugh like an idiot, but it currently seemed that a dark cloud was hanging over his head. Russia's accusation had pissed him off. What happened in the Middle East wasn't just his fault! How could he say that?

France said a few things on similar lines to what Spain and Northern Italy spoke of, and then the meeting was over by the way Denmark dismissed them. Spain grinned as she let her chair crashed down on all fours. "Well, that means I'm out! Drinking time! See you later, Giant." She patted Russia on the arm, removed her feet off the table and stood in one swift motion before practically barreling out the door, only slowing to ruffle South Italy's hair, pull Vatican's hood down to reveal his shock of charcoal hair sticking up all over the place now due to the static of the motion, waved to Portugal, and to pucker her lips out like a fish at France. She'll get the Frenchie later, possibly with a snowball, or if there was no snow, a mudball. Oh, he'd probably get his panties in a twist over that.

She zoomed passed Germany as she went running out of the room, giving him a good-hearted slap somewhere in his lower back region for good measure. She didn't really have anything against Germany, he was kind of too serious and no humor, but he was alright, she supposed. Nevertheless she ran passed him and out the door, hitting cold air. She hopped down a few steps before spotted a familiar head of bright white hair.

"Prus!" That was all the warning she was going to give him before she went barreling into him, wrapping her arms around his waist in a back-cracking hug. Oh Dios, it had been awhile since she last saw him! She needed her weekly dose of Prussia! It must be the hair, or his attitude, or how she, Prussia, and France sometimes went out, got utterly wasted, and did crazy shenanigans that they found laughing hysterically at later on the Internet. Anyway, she barely could stand still now that she had people to drive others up the wall with.

Northern Italy let out a small, sad sigh, giving her sister a sympathetic look. She looked so eager to speak up previously too. He reached up to fix her hair instead in a sort of an apology after Spain messed it all up, but only got a few strands done before being distracted again as America's words made him sad. He didn't want people depressed! Even Germany looked like he could use a hug...

"Can you watch Vati for a bit?" he whispered to South before getting up without waiting for a reply. He drifted over to the other side of the table, patting America on the shoulder. "You can come to my place anytime if you wish, America. My doors are open to anyone and everyone." He smiled at the younger nation. Of course the discussion of where to hold the next meeting went over his head, misinterpreting everything as America being sullen.

"Oh! France! You look magnifico!" And he just jumped onto a new train of thought again, the Italian smiling happily at the Frenchman. "Your footwear look spectacular for the weather! I think I stepped into a mud puddle on the way in." He looked down at his leather shoes with a slight pout on his lips. Oh, how he missed that sly little bit of water!

"Let's not fret over this any longer, though! Are any of you going to get drinks now? Spain must be there and down a few already! Oh! Maybe I can catch up to Germany and see if he wants to join! North straightened his emerald and gold scarf as he scurried to the door, disappearing as he was distracted, yet again, by the thought of catching up to Germany.

At the seat where North Italy abandoned, Vatican turned his lost look to Southern Italy, his eyes pleading to her that she wouldn't go off and abandon him too to these unknown and frightening people.

Tossing the pebble about in the cold was not the best fun he had but it was the best he could do. He had sort of just shown up and, quite frankly, didn't even knew if his brother knew he had shown up. He had not arrived with Germany but just appeared to see if he could meet someone to have some fun with. Of course, he had forgotten how long these things tended to take now. In the past, World Meetings had been so much shorter. It only took a few minutes for someone to declare war and tackle another nation across a table. A small smirk formed on the white-haired man's face as he thought back to the good, good times he had. It was a simpler time and a much more pleasant one.

"Prus!"

The rock fell past his hand as he was assaulted quite suddenly by a small yet powerful girl. Had she not grabbed him firmly by the waist, he probably would have crashed to the ground from the force of her running straight into him. "Spain!" Prussia exclaimed before several loud cracks came from his back. It took ever fibre of Prussia's being not to cry out in pain in the affectionate yet agonizing hug. But he was unable to help cringing all the same. He didm;t mention it at all since it made him uncomfortable to admit such a weakness but he wasn't as durable as other nations. He hurt and bruised much more easily in an almost pitiful way. Sure he was more durable than a mere human but when it came to the other nations, he just couldn't compare.

"Aw, man!" He managed to say, trying to twist about in her grip so he could properly return the hug. Being around Spain was really what he needed right now. He had been stuck in a very bad trench of late with the light at the end getting dimmer and dimmer. But he had barely seen Spain for five seconds and he was already feeling better. Not completely healed but better all the same. Any improvement was appreciated. "It's been so long! You've got to come back to Germany with me so we can get some proper beer. Was France in there too or is it just us this time?" He didn't even consider the possibility she could be busy with actual duties because, hey, they always made time for each other. That was just how they worked. But even if France was a no-show, he was fine. He just wanted to spend time with his friends.

---

England glanced over at America as he berated her for London's weather. Honestly, it wasn't that bad. If anything, it was consistent. It was consistently rainy, that was all. But insulting her food was all she could take. "There is nothing wrong with English food," She snapped immediately, staring at America as her cane irritably tapped against the ground. Fish and chips were absolutely delightful, as were other foods. So France had a little tastier food. But hers was still perfectly fine. "At least I have my own food. You just claim other nation's foods and claim it is your own."

Portugal smiled over at Spain as she left, and got up to leave, only to be caught dead in his tracks at the sight of Macau standing before him. "Euah! Macau! What are you doing here?" Portugal sputtered out in surprise, the red haired girl looking straight up at her father. "I came to watch the meeting", Macau responded, looking at Portugal with complete seriousness and a lack of a childish tone. "China had no interest in coming to it, so I felt like I should at least keep myself up to date". Portugal seemed a bit surprised, "China didn't want to come? But, she's always involved in major events? What makes this different?" Macau replied quickly, "She told me 'I have better things to do than waste my time at a meaningless pissing match with little kids'. She's not coming to any more World Meetings". Portugal looked visibly disturbed by that. China was one of the most powerful nations on earth. Why would she announce an official secession of meeting? "I assume she's still going to be diplomatic?" Portugal asked. "Oh, yes," Macau replied, "But she says that if you have anything to say to her, you have to say it to her face."

Portugal felt uneasy at this news, China was planning something, he just knew it. But, there wasn't much that he could do about it now. He just felt that if she was going to do something, that if it was violent or agressive, that the other nations would be to busy fighting each other to stop her. "So...Macau...Spain is here...." Macau laughed, "you still have a thing for her?" she taunted, only for Portugal to scowl in response. "We grew up together, we have lots of memories together, that's all" he retorted. "Anyways, do you want to come with me to go drinking with her?"

Macau looked around, It wasn't often that she was out and about in another country. "Why not, its not like i have anything important to do."