Denmark turned to Iceland, glancing about before nodding. "There is one outside, just a couple of steps down the road. I will come with you," she said, holding up her own container. She raised her free hand to wave to Germany with a grin. "See you!" With that, she looked back to Iceland and tilted her head toward the door and began walking. As she came outside, her smile did not fade - it was cold, and she loved the feeling. The sun was setting, and the light glinted off Copenhagen's ocean down at the end of the road. Sighing happily, she set off to the bin and dropped her Skyr container inside it. She waited for Iceland so that she could say goodbye to him. She would be joining the drinking club tonight!

France turned to America, slightly surprised at the suggestion. Well, then. "Paris - eet ees not so cold as Copenhagen or London, oui? I would be trés happy to host a meeting - I am ready for eet at any time." It was then that the Spaniard zoomed past him and did some sort of pouting face at him. It wasn't as beautiful as a pout, though. A bit overdone. He responded with a kiss in her direction, sound and all. And then he was being complimented by North. He grinned toothily. "Why, thank you, my Italian friend. C'est Lacoste - j'adore mon designer clothes. Mais - I will join you for zhe drinks," he confirmed with a nod. He followed the Italian outside, standing on the steps and watching him go before spotting the spectacle of Spain and Prussia. "Bonsoir, mes amis! Did I hear something about having zhe alcohol? I would appreciate a good glass of wine and maybe something a leetle beet stronger." He put his thumbs into his belt loops and sauntered down the steps in a very... French... manner.

Several loud cracks resounded from Prussia's back due to the pressure of Spain's hug. It only made her grin widen at the sound as she let the man twist around in her grasp to hug her properly. "It's been ages!" she exclaimed, tilting her head up to dig her chin into his torso in order to look up at his face properly. How long had it been exactly since they last met? A few weeks? A month? Several months? It was way too long and Spain could barely stand still now, practically vibrating as she continued to cling to Prussia.

"Oooh! You can stuff me into your suitcase again and smuggle me across the borders!" She had nothing else planned, or nothing serious that a few days in Germany wouldn't cause any problems. Spain almost laughed at the memory of the one time Prussia and France did stuff her into a large suitcase and tried to get her through the airport. The security had not been pleased.

"Sí, Francia is here somewhere-" Her words were cut short as- speak of the devil- France spoke up and sauntered over them. Spain twisted her head around to grin at him, removing one arm from around Prussia's waist and offered it out to the Frenchman. "Come here and join the cuddle-puddle!" she demanded, waving her hand to the man for him to hurry it up already. "And everyone's planning on going to get drinks! Well, practically everyone, so we can poke fun at your brother and steal England's cane, and other things!" Well, she wasn't sure who exactly was coming- just about everyone, really- so she could care less.

North Italy hopped down the steps, only glancing over at France as he went over to join Spain and Prussia before he caught sight of Germany's back. "Germany!" he called, almost slipping as he scurried to catch up. "Germany, wait up!" he swooped in beside the German, reaching out and looping his arm through one of the German's own, not even taking into consideration that the man might not want to be touched. Northern Italy liked touching people...

"Are you coming with everyone else for drinks?" he asked, smiling curiously at the man. "We can be friends for one evening, no?" He tugged on the man's sleeve slightly. "We can have Spagna to pay for the drinks! She offered, so she has the bill!" Wasn't that how it went? Although he doubted Spain would even consider paying for it all. She would, but not before trying to sneak out the backdoor to escape the bill.

France chuckled, smoothly walking over to them in his usual elegant manner. He came up close to them, wrapping an arm around both Spain and Prussia and hugging them close to his body. He really did enjoy this affectionate contact. He bent down to each, giving them both an enthusiastic peck on the cheek - he couldn't do his usual two in this position - and then rested his chin on Prussia's head. Spain was a bit too short for that. "Ah, j'adore my leetle gang," he teased them. "Have you two shrunk since the last time I saw you?" His fingers tapped along the side of Spain he was holding, appreciating her gentle curves - most wouldn't do so, partially because it was indeed slightly perverted and for fear of being kicked in the crotch. "I do theenk that teasing la petite anglais fleur sounds quite fun, mes amis," he declared brightly. "Now, where is it that you are planning to go? I do hope that they have good wine."

"We only did that because you didn't bring enough money!" Prussia replied as he rubbed the top of the woman's head affectionately. It was a happy memory and even if he jokingly berated her, it was pleasant to think back to their many misadventures. Where had the time gone? He had been sleeping late, wandering around in the middle of the night and just doing nothing. If he recalled, it had been several months since he had last seen Spain and he had hardly been on Skype since then. It felt good to be back with his friend.

The white-haired nation looked up and squinted as a familiar voice sounded from the stairs. A slightly blurred form came close and joined the 'cuddle-puddle', as Spain called it and, as he drew closer, the blurs turned out to be France. Now both of his friends had appeared. The three mischievous musketeers were finally back together! And while Prussia did not mind the kiss on the cheek, the talk about his height was too much. It was like when he was littler and everyone felt the need to address him by putting their hands on their knees and squatting slightly. But France was his friend and the jokes were all in good nature so he didn't kick him between the legs like he did when other people insulted him.

"You're just a giant!" Prussia exclaimed back, raising his hands to push France's chin off his head. When the topic of beer was brought up again, he gave his two friends a warm smile. "Yeah, but this is Denmark," he replied as he moved his hand away from Spain to wiggle his finger in exclamation. "If you want proper alcohol, we've got to go back to Germany. More specifically, Germany's house! He's always got extra beer and wine and other stuff so he wouldn't notice if we drank some. And then, we won't have to pay! It sounds good, ja?" He beamed at the two of them, thinking it to be a rather clever idea. Germany could always get more beer. He was always getting more beer. Who cared if they took some?

America blinked down at the Britishwoman, who seemed cross with what he said. Well, it was the truth. Even though what she said was true as well, America became angry at what she said, too. He let out a 'tsk' glaring down at her and turning away to walk out of the room. North Italy set a hand on his shoulder and told him he could visit whenever he wanted, making him calm down a little. Maybe he should go and relax in Italy. His people liked to visit Rome, Florence, and Venice the most, and he enjoyed himself when he was there. "Thanks, Italy. I'll think about it." with that, he left the meeting room without so much as a goodbye.

When he left the building, America's nose was already wrinkled and his brows were furrowed. His fists were clenched in his pockets, and his teeth were grinding together under his jaw. This was all stupid. He would have loved to push the button to send a nuke Russia's way, but at least he had a mind. It prevented him from doing that. But for how much longer? How much longer would he put up with the accusations and finger pointing? He would have to go and play violent video games to reduce his stress... preferably those that have Russian antagonists.

America sighed, walking down the street at a leisurely pace. Perhaps he could get someone to join him, so they could play video games together! He would invite Britain, but he kind of pissed her off back there. That, and he didn't know if she even knew how to play video games... She was always a pretty boring person. His stomach growled, ripping him from his thoughts and bringing him to the present. I should get something to eat... he thought. But I don't know my way around here... not to mention the type of food they have.

He cursed himself, kicking a pebble aside and crossing his arms. Why couldn't he have asked Denmark for some grub before he left?

---

Why couldn't they have let her speak? Because, first of all, everyone paid attention to her little brother rather than her, and second of all, he said what there was to be said. They were one country, not two, and thus what North said is what South had to say, too. South Italy watched all of the countries leave, and when Spain walked by, she ruffled her hair. She cringed at the contact, glaring over at the Spaniard as she left. "Keep your hands to yourself, bastard!" she cried at her, shaking a fist. When North turned toward her, her amber eyes flicked up at him. He wanted her to take care of Vatican for a second? "Sure, I guess. Just don't be an idiotic bag of tomatoes and leave me here, like always."

As her aloof brother left, South turned toward Vatican. At the sight of the scrawny, pale faced man with the messy, dark hair and wide, lost eyes, she couldn't help but feel pity for him. Her eyes flicked across the room, seeing that it was mostly empty and no one was paying any attention to them. With that, she turned toward Vatican and patted his head. She didn't want anyone to see her so sappy. She patted his hair down until it wasn't as messy anymore and smiled. "Don't worry, I won't leave you. I'm gonna be with you. And I'm tougher than my little bro, so you're gonna be protected, too. I promise. Italians gotta stick together, right?"

Her hand went to her bag, and she pulled out a little Tupperware from its depths. Inside the plastic container was a serving of homemade ravioli that she had made herself. Southern Italy wasn't one for eating Northern European foods. They were just too bland for her... and so she had made her own food. Setting it in front of Vatican, she pulled out two plastic forks. "I was supposed to go and eat this with North, but he went off. Do you want some? It's cheese ravioli with meat sauce. I made it myself. And I don't mean to brag, but I'm a hell of a good chef."

And that she was. She focused on cooking and farming more than her brother, which led to him being called the so called leader of them two while she worked her ass off. South Italy popped open the lid of the Tupperware, allowing the smell of the cooked food to waft out of the container. "You want some or not? I'm about to start eating this myself." she licked her lips, aiming to stab the fork into a ravioli. Oh, she was hungry... so, so hungry...

---

The meeting had taken a toll on him, but Germany was happy that war had not started... yet. Russia and America had snapped at each other but they didn't break out into a fight. Thank God Denmark and England were there. Even though he was a strong nation, he wasn't as strong as those two. Getting in between their little fist fight could cause some broken bones... or even worse. He sighed, raising a hand to his face and pushing back some of his hair, annoyed with the feeling of them on his face. Maybe he should get his hair cut... or maybe not. He liked his hair long, but not too-

Someone smacked the bottom portion of his back, making him flinch and stop walking. When he turned to see who the culprit was, he saw a short, darker skinned woman prance away. Spain... He had noting against the woman, really, but she could be even more annoying than the Italies. North Italy was a good friend and all, but he was too loud and too energetic for him. Spain seemed to be twice the energy level of Italy. He gazed after her, shaking his head. He didn't know what the matter was with-

This time, someone hooked arms with him. Germany didn't even have to look down to know who it was. There was only one person who would do that to him, and that was Italy. Well, North Italy. Germany pulled his arm away, not wanting to be that close to another man. "Hallo, Italien." he greeted. The Italian man was asking if he was going to go out and drink. Germany blinked, a frown coming across his face. [B]"I have to get home and work a bit. I'll go out and drink another time. If you want, you can come over and I'll get you something to drink."

Germany was a shy nation not into large social gatherings with other countries. He rather be at home to himself. If someone wanted to come over to his house, and they were a friend, then he'd have no problem with it.

France snorted at the retort to his teasing. While he may be tall, he certainly wasn't as tall as, say, Russia. He allowed his chin to be slid off, although he did pout moodily. It wasn't nice to push him away... But maybe he was overdoing things again. With a dramatic sigh, he listened to Prussia's suggestion. And his pout faded to a slow, sly smile. "Oui, c'est ideé est super. Germany does have good beer," he agreed. "I prefer zhe wine, mais beer is good as well. Shall we take zhe train? Eet ees a bit too late to book aeroplane tickets." He said this with his usual shrug, and gave them both a squeeze with his fingertips. They were certainly going to have fun tonight. And the train wouldn't take too long to take them there.

The Spanish woman puffed her cheeks out at Prussia as he messed up her hair- again. Really, first North, now Prussia, why did everyone had to mess up her 'do? Well, it never really was flat or styled anyway, but still!

France had finally strutted his fancy ass over and into the cuddle-puddle, giving the other two a peck on the cheek to which Spain rolled her eyes at. She'll lick his chin later or something. She felt the fingers tap against her side, and she let the Frenchman do so. Anyone else she would've castrated them, but it was France, and France was a friend and she knew that he knew her level of tolerance so it was okay. It was all teasing and poking fun anyway or quirky signs of affection- no harm in that.

"Discúlpeme?" Spain huffed loudly, her vibrant green eyes glaring up at the two males. "Both of you are monstrosities of nature with your abomination of vertical prowess, thank you very much!" She stuck her tongue out at the both of them. In truth, she wasn't too touchy about her height. It just was a minor inconvenience at times, and nothing else. She was a good two heads shorter than France was, maybe even more, and Prussia had a good handful of inches above her too. So France would pick on Prussia about his height, Prussia would pick on her, and she would kick both of them in the shins to show them who was boss. It was an agreeable pecking order.

Spain perked up when Prussia mentioned of crashing at Germany's house for drinks instead of going elsewhere in Denmark. France seemed to agree as well, mentioning about train tickets. "Why not both?" Spain asked, raising an eyebrow. "We can buy one or two drinks here, annoy everyone else, and then bail ship and set sail to Germany's? That way we can cover everything on the to-do list and not worry about waking up early tomorrow!" She flashed a bright grin at them. "And I think I remember seeing a place down the road there that looked promising. The others might follow or already be there since it's so close."

---

Vatican blinked owlishly at South as she raised a hand, her fixing his hair distracting him for a moment from the others remaining in the room. He hadn't want to come to this place, North almost suffocating him by stuffing the hoodie over his head while dragging him out the door. The charcoal-haired man just wanted to bake today, not bring his stress levels up and his anxiety shoving his heart into his throat. The only reason why he spoke up at all during the meeting was because he wanted them to know that their citizens did not want to fight... and he didn't want to see South or North Italy be dragged into another meaningless scuffle. It physically and emotionally hurt him seeing them injured, but he would never tell them that.

And then North just...abandoned him here, with all these unknown people. He didn't blame him, Northern Italy was always wandering off and forgetting things, but still... he was scared, and had immediately turned to South as his only lifeline from completely falling into a panicked mess.

The shorter Italian male stared at South as a rare smile cracked her typical grumpy features, her words calming the churning waves of fleeting panic in his gut. Mostly. Still, the corner of his lips quirked upward for a moment, although his face was still very pale and his eyes wide and nervous as he gave the woman a tiny, jerky nod. No, South wouldn't leave him here.

Gently he turned his fingers around the seat of his chair, curling his legs closer to him as if to make himself a smaller target to notice. He watched with slight curiosity as South dug into her hand, pulling out a container with homemade ravioli. The sight of food made Vatican wonder when was the last time he had eaten. He never had been one to eat regularly, much to North's dismay. Food just didn't agree with him on most days, that's all, so there was little point in trying to force it down, and naturally he would end up forgetting to eat for days at a time.

His dark gray eyes flickered from South, to the offered fork, and to the dish that South just opened. The smell of the food made his stomach snarl like a caged tiger, causing his pale cheeks to flush lightly as he gingerly reached forward and picked up the extra fork with thin fingers. "T-thank you," he murmured softly as he carefully speard a piece, using his free hand to hover underneath the fork's precious cargo in case it fell off and brought it to his mouth.

South really did make great food...

---

Germany had pulled his arm out of North's grasp- the Italian frowned at that, his brow wrinkling just slightly. He brushed off his concern with a small smile. Germany just didn't like such close touches, that's all. "You're such a busybody, Germany, don't you take time off to relax?" Italy smiled at the German. He was always working so hard, never taking a break, or a vacation. Or sleep in for that matter. He was going to work himself into the ground at this rate!

The Italian's smile widened at Germany's offer and bobbed his head in agreement. "Of course! I can even cook you something if you want!" Heaven forbid if he was going to let Germany eat another one of those sausage thingies while Northern Italy was there! He needed something better, like lasagna! Oh! He could cut up the sausage things and put it into the lasagna! That would be good!

"We cannot 'elp that you are so vertically challenged." France shifted his weight, finally allowing his arms to come back to him as he grinned. He was always happier when they were tucked around someone else, though. He put his hands on his hips, nodding in agreement as Spain rattled on about doing both. "And we can drink some more when we reach Germany's house, oui? C'est magnificent!" he declared excitedly. "Let us begin our night of adventure and mischief!" With that, he mussed Spain's hair and then dodged away instinctively. He knew that she didn't really like it, but it was so much fun to do~ He winked at Prussia. Oh, they so nneeded to pick her up or something a bit later. "Lead away, my petit Spanish conquistador!"

Portugal and Macau walked together until they came across the group of France, Spain, the Italians, and Prussia. "Boa Tardes" the two said in unison, Macau smiling at the others, Portugal keeping his sullen, yet friendly look. "So, may we join you in your alcoholic exploits" Portugal asked the group. Portugal was not too well aquanted with France or Prussia, and only minorly aquanted with the Italians, but he felt that it would be a good idea to get to know more people, that was if he was to regain his status as an economic power.

France paused and deflated, his bravado interrupted by the arrival of two others. Oh. He straightened himself, cleared his throat. "You are free to come to the bar, of course, mais we three have some business to attend to later." It was his usual brand of rudeness - masked and hidden. It was indirect, telling them that they weren't fully included - after all, they couldn't possibly join their trio!

At that moment, Denmark wafted toward them. She had heard the conversations being had, and had picked up on France's statement. It would not do to leave them with bad memories of Copenhagen - she needed people to like her. A bad experience here would automatically make them think of her. "Why don't we head to the Longboat? It is only a short walk down the road," she said with a smile. "Consider it on me, as I hosted you all tonight. It is only fair to treat you to some good Danish alcohol, no?" She laughed good heartedly and then gestured down the road.

"I'm not an abomo-whatever," Prussia retorted as he stuck out his tongue. So maybe he wasn't the smartest one of them and his vocabulary wasn't so large but he just never cared to try hard at that sort of thing anyway. He was too busy bashing skulls. "I'm exactly at the height everyone should be at. The rest or the world is either too tall or too small. But I'm absolutely perfect, in height and everything else." He placed his hand on his chest as he lifted his chin up. He was rather known for this stance as it followed many a boast about how perfect he was. Chest puffed out, hand resting there and chin up so he could pretend to look down on people. Sometimes, the effect was diminished slightly since he had to climb onto a chair to properly look down on people. That just looked silly but he did it often anyway.

When their three was suddenly made more, Prussia frowned and shook his head. He actually wasn't that interested in Danish beer. Rather, they had to get to Germany's before Germany himself got back. He wrapped his arms around his two friends' shoulders and began trying to lead them away. "We've got business to talk about, actually," he replied with a smile. "We'll meet up with the rest of you in a bit." And by a bit, he meant much later. They needed to depart for Germany very quickly.

"My flight home isn't until tomorrow," Iceland declared as he stepped out of the meeting place. Drinking with everyone would be fine, right? Now that there was no longer obvious fighting going on, he was not as shy or turtle-like. "If everyone's going drinking, I'd love to go. It'll be a fun way to pass time until I need to go back." He was pushed aside as England made her exit, walking slowly down the stairs, her cane lightly tapping against each step. She glanced sideways at the group of three mischievous nations nearby then shook her head disapprovingly and continued to walk away, minding her own business.

Denmark watched them go, and then chuckled and shook her head. Those three were up to something. And she wasn't hurt that they didn't want them around to be a part of it. She turned back to Macau and Portugal, bright blue eyes spotting Iceland as he spoke. She waved him over. "Would you like to join us, Ice?" She asked him. England had just gone off - her eyes swept the small group. No-one who would usually aggravate her. "And you, England? Would you like to join us?" The other woman looked so alone, walking off into a cloudy night...

France was relieved to be taken away - it wouldn't have been nearly so fun with that crew! He too walked away, putting his own arm around Prussia's shoulder. "Oui, you are correct," he agreed. "Knowing Germany, he will be on zhe soonest flight home! Come, I know where the station is." He looked across at the group, waiting for the confirmation that he could lead them there. It was lucky that it wasn't too far away...

Spain rolled her eyes at France's idea of her being vertically challenged, laughing at Prussia and his struggle on vocabulary before puffing himself up like a proud peafowl. She felt so light and cheerful now, she feared she would be drifting off the ground any second. She missed this casual, teasing banter of her two best amigos of all time. They really should have weekly meet-ups or something instead of falling off the face of the Earth for months at a time. Well, mostly that was Prussia; France was just a mountain range away pretty much. Anyway, they really needed to stop this not talking thing- and stop the hair ruffling thing, as Spain aimed a swat to France's gut, only hitting air as he danced away. Fancy, dainty snot.

Their proud march off to wreak havoc was snipped at the bud when Portugal and some lady showed up. Spain grinned at Portugal. Both France and Prussia seemed to crank up their hostile rudeness at the new arrivals, which now included Denmark as she drifted to them. Spain let out a small huff when the other two suddenly seemed to just want to invade Germany's house instead, but she just shrugged it off and let Prussia loop an arm over her smaller shoulders and lead her away. She did turn partially enough to raise one hand to her ear, her thumb and little finger out in a univseral 'call-me!' sign to Portugal before facing the right way around again, wrapping an arm around Prussia's waist, as his shoulders were much too high. Her friends' happiness were worth too much to her than to drag them into the group with the others. Even though it would have been fun terrorizing them while drunk.

"As soon as we board I'm going to use one or both of you as a pillow," she stated to the pair of them. "I missed my siesta!" She pouted at the very thought of missing her precious siesta time. There was a reason why there was time lotted into everyone's schedules in her country to take a nap in the hottest hours of the day.

(((Thought I lost this post, now prefer the second one!))

France led his friends, steered them left when they came to an intersection. Not long to go now. He smirked at Spain's complaints and raised his eyebrows. "Mais, c'est cold, non? There is no need for a siesta," he reasoned smoothly. No wonder she had gotten into such economic trouble a short while back. It wasn't productive to waste away the day. His people knew how to use a work day so that they didn't need to put in so many hours. Anyway. "I do not mind being your pillow, my leetle conquistador. I am sure that Pruss would not mind either - you are not a big bother," he said lightheartedly. "Although, perhaps I would be preferred, as Pruss is looking a bit bony..." He frowned, taking in the diminished appearance of his friend for the first time. He was different from a couple of weeks back. "Pruss? Ees your health alright?"

"I'd love to!" Iceland replied with a smile as he made his way over to the group. Yes, this was plenty. It would just be seen as a harmless drink, not as him making allies. After all, he would go drinking with anyone. Even… Even England. The young nation watched the tiny woman walk away before pausing as Denmark's words rang out. He and England did not exactly enjoy one another. The invasion and the Cod Wars had ruined any chance of the two nations getting along like friends. He didn't even try to hide it; England made him very uncomfortable. But maybe he could try to fix that.
"I still have business," She started, half turning towards the group as her cane came to rest on the ground. Before she could finish, Iceland jogged forward and reached out, grabbing her by the wrist.
"Nah," He replied, deciding to use this opportunity to try to repair their relationship. Besides, England seemed so boring and dull and completely business-focused. She could do with a bit of fun. "It'll be fun." With that, he started to pull her back over to the small group. While she did look baffled and stared at him with a frown, she didn't protest being taken back over to the group until Iceland had let go of her, at which point she took a few steps backwards and stared at the Nordic nation.
"Please do not do that in the future," She muttered as she turned her gaze down to stare at the wrist he had grabbed. Obviously, this would not be an easy mend to their friendship. But, thankfully, it was not as bad as France and England or Russia and America.

"Exactly," Prussia responded with an approving nod. France understood why he wanted to make haste. He didn't want to have to spend all his money on beer when he could get some at his brother's house for free. Money was precious to him now that he wasn't a country. He couldn't just blow through it but instead had to be cautious. "We've got to get there faster than him so we can at least steal the beer and run." His gaze turned to Spain as she pouted, saying something that he had to assume was about a nap. Oh right, she took naps a lot, didn't se? He smiled and pulled her a bit closer, patting her on the shoulder with the hand looped around her. "Don't worry, I make a great pillow. Germany always fell asleep on my lap when he was really small!" Plus, he wouldn't be doing that much sleeping anyway. He had been sleeping all throughout the day and got up only to come to the World Meeting. He was wide awake and probably would be all night, provided he didn't drink himself into a coma. That was very likely to happen, actually. At the mention of his boniness, Prussia blinked several times before finally turning his head around to look at France. "Hmm?" He asked, a smile on his face. As the Kingdom Prussia, he had grown used to situations where he was heavily outclassed. Old Fritz had really brought him through some tough battles where it seemed like he would've lost. But he had been taught that the best way to win was to pretend there was nothing wrong. Even if the enemy heavily outmatched you in terms of force and numbers, getting scared was just like giving up. Even better was using his strategies in terms of talking. By ignoring and avoiding the subject with work arounds, people usually gave up and didn't press whatever issue they were trying to talk about. They just forgot, eventually.

Admittedly, he didn't like avoiding the subject with his friends but it was really not a subject he wanted to get into. He just wanted to pretend everything was still fine and they could party like they always did. These were his friends! Maybe he was trying to live in the past but either way, he didn't want to concern them. They didn't need to deal with his problems on top of their own. "I didn't quite catch th-That's the station, right?" he lifted his arm away from France to point ahead of them. He gestured them forward as he started to walk more quickly towards where the trains departed and arrived from. "Quickly, we don't want to miss our train if it's already there! We wouldn't be able to steal any of Germany's beer if we miss it!"

She swore to God, if Vatican didn’t eat the food, someone was going to get hurt. While South Italy really didn’t seem to get along well with North and Vatican, she truly loved them both. She was the older sister, even though North usually did things better and quicker than she did. She remembered when she was in Spain’s house when she was younger. The Spaniard lady would try and get her to work, enticing her with food and the like, but when she did work, she would do it half-assedly. Spain had once tried to give her away, but South had clung to her leg and wailed until she promised she would stay. However, North would do things well, or so she heard. He would spend his time cleaning and the like, and Austria seemed to like him a lot.

”You know, Vati,” South said, swallowing her mouthful and wagging the tip of the fork at him. ”I know you haven’t been eating well. If you ever want food, just come over to my place, m’kay? I make better food than my brother. He uses too much butter, and butter is bad for your heart. No, no, I make food with olive oil, y’know? Olive oil is very good for your heart—it cleans your aortas the rest of your insides. It also adds more flavor to the food. Not to mention, a dash of olive oil is very much like a good chunk of your average bar of that shit that my brother puts in his food.” she took another bite of the ravioli, chewing away aggressively. Her eyes dropped down to plate, and a sigh escaped her lips.

Maybe she should try and be like her brother to get more attention from the world. She was sick of being in his shadow. It was like she wasn’t even there. When everyone thought of Italy, they thought of her brother, not her brother and her. South should at least try and get along with Spain and France and Germany and the like, even though she was scared to death of the last two. Spain wasn’t that scary as long as you didn’t irritate her. Or threaten her… or anything of the like. But she sure was annoying as hell. South swallowed the rest of her portion of ravioli and turned toward Vatican again.

”Vatican, do you think I should be friendlier to the countries?” South asked. ”I mean, sometimes I try and all of the like, but most of them act like fucking big shots that deserve to have their foot cut off and shoved up their ass.” she stared at him, her eyes cold, as she waited for an answer. Maybe Vatican would support her views and tell her to just stay away from them. That was what she wanted to do… but sometimes they came over to her house and they just had to babble away at her. And when she didn’t want to talk to them, her brother was nowhere to be found so she could dump them on him instead.

---

Germany couldn’t help but smile at Italy’s words. Even if he was his friend, the Italian could be a bit ignorant at times. The German was a busy man, always working on whatever had to be done. Sometimes he had to work with his boss, and other times he had to do paperwork… and then he had to go and see if his people were doing well… Germany’s life was a hectic one—and Italy didn’t seem to realize it. He probably just took siestas all day… but he wasn’t in a place to judge. Italy seemed to get excited that he was invited over to his place, stating that he could cook him some lasagna.

Lasagna sounded nice. While Germany would never give up his wurst and cooked potatoes and the like, Italian food was rather good. That, and he was pretty hungry… ”That sounds good. I’ll make it up to you somehow.” he told his friend, beginning to walk down the street toward the station. Germany hoped that he could catch the earliest train back home. He just wanted to be back in Berlin and rest in his house in order to get ready for the next day. The next day, of course, being filled with work and the like.

Germany glanced back down at Italy, wondering if he could keep up with his brisk walk. Italy was always a slow walker, but he supposed that was due to the fact that his country was more laid back than Germany’s. ”How have you been, Italy? Besides your economy and weather and the like.” he asked him, his blue eyes flicking back up to the streets. Copenhagen was a pretty town, he supposed. Denmark was a gorgeous country, too. But nothing could compare to his own country. He truly loved the mountains and the like… but he was always wary about bragging about his nation. He didn’t want anyone to point and scream ”German nationalism is on the rise!’ and start thinking that he was going to be sitting behind a desk with a poster of Hitler behind him, smashing his fist on the table repeatedly while yelling ’Nein, nein, nein!’.

… He supposed he was panicking a little. Or a lot. World War II wasn’t a good thing for the world, much less him. Germany had lost a bit of his sanity back then, and had grown very paranoid with his actions since that war. ”There’s the station.” he told Italy. ”We have to hurry up and get our tickets so I can get home quickly. I’m pretty sure I have the stuff to make a proper lasagna… I have the tomato sauce and the meat and all of that…” he frowned. ”What exactly goes in a lasagna, again?”

---

Well, this meeting certainly was… interesting. Russia got up from his seat and left the building as soon as Denmark announced that the meeting was over. His green eyes flicked across the street as he pushed open the door. Nations were already outside—France, Spain, and Prussia were gathered in a group, talking amongst themselves, with Portugal and Macau approaching them. Denmark and Iceland and England were nearby, as well. Germany and Italy were talking to each other… and that was all of the nations that had decided to show their faces at the meeting. America was already gone, which was good. If he had something to say to the nations about that American, then he wouldn’t be there to get in his face about it.

Russia slowly walked over to the second group, which consisted of Denmark, Iceland, and England. They were decent nations, he supposed. Denmark was a good girl, always quiet and neutral when she had to be. Iceland was the same way. England, however, was the one that worried him. Wasn’t she an ally of America? What if his brainwashing didn’t work on her and she went running to her little nation, complaining about what he said? Ah, but England wasn’t that immature. She would tell him if she wasn’t happy with what he was saying. And if she did, he would back off and continue another time. So, the ginormous man walked past Spain and the rest of her group, giving her a soft smile as he did so, and toward Denmark’s small group.

”Mhm, everyone’s going out to drink, da?” he asked, trying to keep his friendly expression on his face without seeming like a weirdo. Russia was prone to looking scary when he meant to look trustworthy and happy. ”I was wondering if you have room for one more? I need a good glass or two of vodka.”

Portugal twisted his face at France and Prussia, showing visible disgust in their rudeness, before giving a soft smile and a nod to Spain. Macau simply turned around, pulling Portugal with her to the secondary group. Portugal heard Denmark's words, and smiled "Ah, yes, we would love to join you." the older nation said, with Macau making no objections otherwise. Portugal looked at the group. He didn't know Denmark or Iceland that well, and was still bitter towards England. But, he supposed that holding bad blood against her could be put to the side for one night. Macau looked at the others as well. She wasn't really sure what she was, other than Portugal's illegitimate child, to the other nations. She was pretty much a pawn of China, even though she was technically allowed to make her own legal and diplomatic decisions. Macau didn't even know some of these people, she knew England only because of the connection to Hong Kong and to China in the Opium Wars. Still, she felt that now would be a good time to make some friendly connections, in case China was planning anything bad, and so that she had a bit of help if she needed to break the bond with China. "I'm Macau, by the way! I'm Portugal's daughter." she said, in case any didn't know who she was.

Spain grinned up at France and Prussia as they both stated that they would not mind being used as a pillow for her siesta. Siestas were very important, after all. Plus, she hadn't gotten much sleep the night before either due to a "Surprise! Here's paperwork that should've been done three weeks ago but we lost it and now you got to pull an all-nighter!" situation that was pulled on her by her boss. She was pretty sure she was still running on all those energy drinks she inhaled. Dios, paperwork was boring. She was still functioning normally because of her natural high amounts of energy that the energy drinks seemed to have fueled to unbelievable proportions. They were so lucky that they didn't see her after the first three cans that she guzzled under an hour. The Spaniard winced mentally at the thought of going back to her not-so-slightly trashed house. And people say she was a disaster when drunk...

France pointed out Prussia's thinner appearance, which of course drew her attention to their albino friend. This, of course, Prussia naturally deflected by pointed out the station and started walking ahead of them. Spain glanced up at France, giving him a knowing look before shrugging. "I'll scrounge up something," she promised before bounding away after Prussia, widening her strides as well as speeding up in order to catch up to the man. Maybe she could box up some churros and send them over to Prussia to eat? Or steal some of Vatican's excess baked goods? Anything was better than nothing, but he wasn't at Vatican-level negligence yet, so she wasn't going to push the taller man for answers. He would open up when he wanted to, and she won't shove her face all up in his business unless his habits became too unhealthy.

---

Vatican chewed slowly on his bit of ravioli, trying to clear his mind as he ate. The others had all left, so he let himself calm down, his shoulder slumping slightly as they relaxed. He blinked up at Southern Italy as she spoke, leaning back slightly at the fork waggling at him. She was nagging him about his eating habits- again. He sighed softly. "I just don't get hungry often," he murmured, turning his gaze down as he poked another piece of ravioli with his fork. "But... thank you for the offer. I don't want to be a bother... you do so much already..." He didn't need her to take care of him while she had other, very important jobs to do. He was just a small city-state, a micronation, whatever you'd wish to call it. He was tiny and insignificant compared to North or South Italy, and he didn't want either of them to just drop whatever they were doing just to cater to him.

The charcoal-haired Italian lifted his eyes again as South asked his opinion on what she should do with the other countries. He lowered his fork slowly, his eyes downcast as he thought. "I would think...they would start to worry if you were sick...if you started to be nice all of a sudden." South was as caustic as battery acid most of the time, but she did have a soft, gentle side under the sharpened demeanor. But very few ever saw the softer side to the Southern Italian, and it would only being suspicion onto her for her sudden change in disposition. "I-I do not mean you should pick fights with them at every opportunity or that you couldn't be nice to them, it's just, I mean..." He blew out a short huff in frustration, trying to figure out how exactly to word it. He could never really express himself. "Just... be yourself?" He lifted his eyes to her, his shoulders tense again as if expecting for her to blow up at him.

---

Northern Italy patted Germany's arm, smiling. "I got invited to your house, and I will make you food, so there is no debt to be paid." Silly Germany trying to repay him for things he did naturally. Italy always had to feed people, or make sure they had food, both when he's a guest and a host. Food made people happy. It made him happy, so it should make other people happy based on his simple logic. It all made sense to him.

Italy noticed he had started to lag behind, so he sped up a bit, almost doing a slow jog beside the long strides of the German beside him. "Me, myself?" he asked, blinking at Germany after his question. "I've been well, I suppose. My sorella and I have disagreements, but I try to make her happy and safe, but she's always getting into the Mafia mess, and I fear she'll get seriously hurt if she keeps it up." It was the one reason why he convinced her to come here for this meeting, to keep her at his relative side to keep her safe. She was older than he, only by a little bit, but he felt the need to be her protective brother. "And then there's Vati, who barely stands being in the same room as anyone new. I was glad he didn't have a meltdown in the meeting, but I just had to get him out so he could at least try to make friends."

Italy's depressing thoughts were interrupted with Germany pointing out the station, and then mentioning the ingredients for lasagna. "Oh! You can put all sorts of things into lasagna!" he said cheerfully, his previous saddened frown at family problems erased by the joy of food. "You can put all sorts of cheeses in it, and meats- do you mind if I use some of your sausage thingies?- and then there's all sort of vegetables-" He went on with a long list of all sorts of things one could put into a lasagna, and then all the different sized dishes, and how a glass dish was better than metal and the proper temperature and time to cook it under. He continued to rattle on as he unconsciously kept up his speed to keep alongside Germany as they headed to the station, as he already forgot where they were anyway as he was too deep in the discussion of proper lasagna etiquette.

Denmark felt quite pleased that at least Iceland would be coming along for drinks. So he wouldn't take aid, but he would socialise. That was okay. She nodded as England made an excuse - she didn't take her for a drinking and hanging out sort of type. But then, surprisingly, Iceland darted forward. She knew that the two didn't really like each other, but it seemed that Iceland wanted to fix their relationship. Maybe it was the magic of her peaceful city of Copenhagen... Even Russia had come to join them. He did scare her a bit, with his height and unpredictability. But she smiled to herself, turning in the direction of The Longboat. "Of course you may join us! Let us go," she said, beginning to walk down the dark road.

France frowned again, his mouth turning down in a crescent. He knew Prussia. He knew how he deflected attention from himself. Simply looking at Spain, he just watched as she hurried forward. He doubted it was just an issue of not eating enough. It could also be the fact that he wasn't a country anymore. Sighing, he daintily jogged to the ticket office. He was willing to pay, as he knew the other two weren't as well-off as he. A minute later, he held in his hand three tickets. "Come, let us go, mes amis," he declared, holding theirs out to him. "Time to crash at the German's place!"