Prussia had just begun to pull out his wallet when France jogged past him to the ticket box. Before he could protest to another person paying for his ticket, France and already paid and secured three for the next train bound for Germany. Arguing about paying for tickets was counterproductive, honestly, so he reluctantly shoved his wallet back into his pocket. In a way, he was supplying the beer anyway. He'd pay if France asked him too but he wouldn't press paying for his own. He could use the extra money anyway.

He looked down at the borrowed shirt from Germany. It had been the smallest he could find but it still wasn't good enough. PRobably because it didm''t cover his arms and the material was too thin. He'd need to dig out a sweatshirt or something from Germany's closet. That might help to cover him up a bit better and prevent situations from rising up like they had with France. He just didn't need to concern them with trivial things. "Danke, France," he declared as he took one of the tickets from the other nation. "I can pay you back if you need me too. But how about we get on the train first? I want to make sure we don't miss it."

England looked around as the group slowly grew bigger with nations like Portugal and Russia appearing, as well as another girl. England was very good about recognizing other nations but this one she couldn't say she knew right away. But the name clicked and England nearly snapped her fingers in recognition. It was that tiny little place always around China. But England never knew she was Portugal's daughter, probably because she never asked. Whenever she saw the girl, China was around and China always more important to deal with at the time. "Charmed," she replied with an acknowledging nod before turning to look at Russia. Honestly, he never struck her as a public drinker. Sure he seemed to like being around other people to some extent but she was near certain she never wanted to see him drunk. Iceland obviously felt the same way since he quickly started after Denmark, tagging along at her heels while England merely began to walk after them. Iceland was certainly a skittish nation when it came to much bigger and much more powerful countries. He had always been antsy around her since World War II. Probably because of the invasion but if given the same opportunity, she would have taken it again. Staying completely removed from wars was impossible. He was lucky it was just her and not Germany.

France shook his head firmly. "Non, do not worry about zhat," he insisted, handing the other one to Spain. "Eet is on me, as you are getting us in." He winked at his friend again, and walked toward the machines that would scan his ticket and let him through. He slipped through the small opening and collected the printed ticket on tje other side. People dressed in work clothes were coming off the newly arrived train, and many more were waiting to board - Copenhagen was the biggest city in Denmark, and so many were employed there. "Do not get lost among these people, my conquistador! We will never find you otherwise," he said cheekily over his shoulder.

((I have never been on a train, so I'm using the system for the tube I've read about and seen in movies. x3 Then again, things would be updated in 30 years anyway, no?))

Spain let the two men scuffle over the tickets, France managing to pay for the three of them before Prussia could finish opening his wallet up. Well, if they wanted to pay their way, she wasn't going to stop them. Free stuff for her, with gratitude to the one who was paying, like scratching the previous thought of tossing mud at Mr. Fancy Pants' clothes. "Gracias, Señor Tirano," Spain said sarcastically as she took the ticket from France, bowing lowly in a drastic manner. "How ever could I repay such a burdening debt?" Of course France was telling Prussia that they didn't really need to repay him, but Spain had to be sarcastic anyway, because it was France and being a total snot to him was always fun.

She shrugged up at Prussia before trotting up ahead following France. She passed through the machines and openings, stepping onto the platform full of business people and other people of Denmark. The taller Frenchman just had to crack a joke about losing her in the crowd, causing her to pull a face at his back. "To find this conquistador, just follow the bodies writhing on the floor!" she snarked back, stepping aside one citizen as he almost barreled her over, but she never lost sight of France's fat head. "Besides you're like a beacon of hope in this chaos. You stick out like a flashy stripper's pole." Of course she would just find her own way to the correct train if she got separated from the others- she wasn't incompetent, despite what everyone else thought. She could take care of herself, much like Prussia could take care of his own problems or France with his unless it became too much for one person to handle.

She spotted the correct train, looking back to make sure Prussia was still following before grabbing France's sleeve to get his attention. "It's that way," she said, pointing over to the right one. "Come on, I can feel my twelve cans of energy drinks dwindling and I need someplace comfy to crash on so I have energy to get ridiculously drunk."

France tossed his head at her retort. "I do not see what zhe probleem is with zhat," he declared. He liked to be noticed. Besides, strippers were usually quite beautiful in their own way, no? He had no problem with what they did. He actually enjoyed their talents... Suddenly, there was someone grabbing at his sleeve - the Spaniard. He blinked down at her, before nodding and overdramatically placing a hand at the small of her back - then walking forward. "Zhere is a fatigued lady coming through!" he announced haughtily. Bemused and confused Danes looked over at the tall man escorting a short woman into a train. This was certainly unusual, but not too much so that they shrugged to themselves and continued to board. "Well, zhat was quicker than normal," he commented to her, smirking as they entered.

Prussia nodded, not pushing the matter of paying. If France said he got it, he had it. He quickly tailed behind Spain as the two nations slipped through the gate, using their tickets to make the gates turn. And, without a hiccup of any kind, he had sent his ticket through and pushed on after them. The train station sure was busy but that was just natural of trains, correct? They always pulled a large crowd and even when one arrived, more people just flooded in to fill the void. At least airports had room to breathe.

He kept his eyes trained downward, doing his best to follow the tiny woman through the crowds as France made some joke about her height. He did have a point, though. It was difficult to spot her with the hustle and bustle of people rushing past on either side. "She's got a point," he called ahead to France, a smile forming on his face once more as she identified him as a stripper's pole. France was tall enough to see over the heads of most people and his outfit was obviously foreign. For once, he was glad to be at the back of the line since it meant there would be no quips about his unusual appearance. He didn't mind them but it was always more fun to make fun of others than be subjected to it yourself.

Suddenly, his two friends were off, moving quite quickly towards one train that had to be theirs. People began to flood in between him and the other two, forcing the gap between them apart as it seemed like the entire train station was trying to board this one train. Frustration clouded Prussia's brow as he, at first, began politely trying to enter the train. But his patience quickly grew thin as he was not given any room to board. With a determined snort, he charged forward, shoving several people aside so he could leap onto the train with great gusto, landing on board safely behind his friends. He didn't really care that he had possibly injured anyone since it was their fault for getting in his way in the first place. He didn't want to lose his friends now when they were so close. "Do you know what stop we are?" He asked, leaning forward towards the two so people could continue to flow around them without bumping into him.

France turned around to see where Prussia had gotten himself to. And there he was, trying to get onto the train. He couldn't help his usual smirk-smile hybrid slipping its way onto his lips. His friend was having some trouble getting in, due to all the people with the same goal. Then, his strategy changed, and startled people shrieked as they were shoved aside. He blinked at him, then snorted. "You are determined to keep up with us, oui?" he commented, taking a seat in preparation for Spain possibly crashing on him. "C'est the next stop nearest to Germany's house. In other words, c'est four stops on from now, if the vendor was correct..."

Did Vatican say what she think he just said? South Italy covered the little Tupperware and blinked her amber eyes at him. Be… herself. Well then. If she was herself, she would be just how she was at the moment. Loud, rude, and uncaring toward others. And yet, no one seemed to like her very much. Her brother seemed to ignore her most of the time, going off to do other things, while Spain just loved to annoy her. That had to be for a reason, right? She rolled her eyes, sighing softly. ”If I stay the same, Vatican, then everyone would treat me the way that they treat me now.” she told him. ”I don’t understand why everyone ignores me or likes to annoy me. Spain especially. She always touches me and stuff. It’s annoying, and so I thought, maybe I could change and she wouldn’t bother me as much.”

Spain's lips twitched in a rather malicious way when France began half leading, half pushing her through the throngs of people, calling out in that annoying holier-than-thou voice that she was like some old lady who needed to sit down and take a breather. She inwardly fumed as she let him lead her onto the train, the smirk on his face pushing her to a resolve as she waited for Prussia to get onto the train and France to sit down before stomping on France's toes with her heel. Hard. And with a good twist for added pleasure, while muttering a rather foul word in her native tongue under her breath.

"That, is for treating me like some needy, faint-happy old granny," she snapped. "And for that, you get my feet." With an unceremonious flourish, she flopped down onto the seat, picking her feet up and plopping them straight down into France's lap. "That way I can sleep with my head in Prussia's lap, and I get to rub my dirty shoes all over your pants." She stuck her tongue out at France for further insult. "Anyway, wake me up when we get there, I'll be out like a light in a sec." She was very fast at falling asleep, no matter where she was. She remembered her boss waking her up with a scream while she had her feet propped up on the couch while the rest of her lay on the floor watching TV upside down. His panicked face at thinking she was dead had been hilarious.

---

Vatican set the fork down, the ravioli gone as South Italy covered the container again. He listened to her complaints silently as he thought. It was hard seeing her struggle, and not be able to help her. He knew very little of friendly relationships, so with all the confiding South Italy was doing, he had little to show for her in support.
"Perhaps she likes touching you because it's her way of showing affection," Vatican mused quietly, unconsciously tapping the fork against his knee. "Or she knows you will overreact time and time again." He let out a small sigh, his shoulders slumping. "They might not realize how important you are, since you are so closed off from them. You put up an aggressive, cold front that they choose to ignore you in favor of keeping their heads safely on their shoulders or pester you because you always react viciously. Your brother has all the political power, and is more agreeable in temper, so they simply go to him rather than dealing with someone who works mostly in the background." The tapping on his knee increased as he fidgeted nervously. "I-I'm not much of a help to you in this. Maybe you should relay your feelings to North, and see if you can be incorporated into the politics alongside him rather than behind him. I cannot give you any help. I wish I could, but I...don't really have much say in anything either outside my home, and I don't desire to interact with others as much as you do. I'm sorry..."

Did Spain really feel that way? Or maybe Vatican was just guessing? South didn't know... but what Vatican said at the end made the most sense. She rubbed the back of her head, glancing at her feet. Huh... she never thought of asking her younger brother about that sort of stuff. And luckily, she knew exactly where the guy was going. "Come on, Vati." she told him, grabbing his wrist. "We're going to Germany."

"I don't want to let left behind here," Prussia replied with a slight frown. He wasn't actually upset or anything, he just wanted to prove a point. "You need me to get into Germany's house anyway. You'll set off all the alarms if you just break in to try to get his beer. He watched France sit down, followed quite quickly by Spain as she almost comically flopped down next to him with her dirty shoes raised up onto his lap. Oh, all of them knew that France would never take kindly to something like that. "Spain," He chided as he sat down by her head and gently tried to raise it so he could set her head down on his lap. The seat of the train could not be as comfortable as a lap, even if his was a bit bony. "And you too, France. Can't we all just get along? We're all in this together, after all. We can afford to be a bit nicer to each other."

"OWW! MERDE!" shrieked France, swiping his poor, designer-clad feet out of the way of any further assault. "Now, ZHAT was unnecessary!" He glared down at the small woman. He was used to much worse pain, but his toes really were aching now. His dark eyes, usually soft and romantic, had become hardened. Oh, this was the look of a mad Frenchman. And this Frenchman had no qualms about revenge. He glanced up at the people surrounding them, who were slowly starting to look away. Breathing in slowly, in and out, he composes himself and looked to Prussia. "I was seemply teasing you," he huffed haughtily. "You two are my friends. I would not want to leave you behind. I cannot help me urge to taunt." He waved a hand (rather Frenchly), and rifled in his pockets for a cigarette. He took out a slim box, only to be met by glares. Aha. There was the No Smoking sign. With a dramatic sigh, he put his addiction back into his pocket, and looked back at Prussia. He smirked at him, eyes going down to the resting Spain and back up to him. He mouthed, "Prank." Come on. They had to do something about her!

The temptation of a prank was almost as great as the fear of being shanked. He never doubted that his friend was fully capable of hurting him, even when he was in top health. To put it bluntly; Spain was scary as shit. But there was also the temptation of a prank that lured him in and finally caused him to shake his head. Sure he was worried but their friendship had to man something. At the very least, he might be able to run faster than her since his legs were longer. And while he never doubted the Frenchman to run away instead of helping him, he could always trip the bastard and let Spain tear him to shreds in place of him. It was part of their friendship that meant they would all make sacrifices for one another. It was just when the going got tough, they surely had each others' backs.

((~ TIMESKEEEEEP! ~))

Finally, the trio were inside Germany's house. And they hadn't hesitated in helping themselves to his liquor cabinet. He did have a rather nice home, France thought to himself as he sipped at a bottle of wine he had found tucked away. There was far more beer than other liquor here. He had started with a few beers, but had moved on quickly when he found the bottle... Hrm. Feeling silly and happy and generally a bit drunk, he looked at the label. That was quite old... "Thees wasss a good ideaa," he commented to his friends, slurring a bit. His eyes focused on Spain's lips... She wouldn't mind a little kiss and grope, would she? Non...

Denmark had led her small group into the bar at the end of the street. She was sitting on a barstool, large glass of Danish beer in her hand. She had a rather high alcohol tolerance - she had developed it as her people had swigged mead in her Viking days. Beer made one feel warm and buzzy on those cold, cold days. She crossed her legs, sipped from the edge, and glanced over her shoulder at the bartender. "There may be some... Antics tonight," she mentioned quietly in Danish. He nodded. He had hosted a group of countries before, many years ago. Now he was older, his hair white. Humans really did age...

Portugal and Macau sat at the bar with the other nations, looking about and around. The older of the two, Portugal, sat by himself, only distantly with the group, out toward the edge, sipping on some obscure liquor that he was not even able to pronounce. He had tried it once when he was in Africa, and it was absolutely sheer coincidence that it was even here. Still, he wasn't going to pass up that opportunity. Oh how he missed the old days of exploration and adventure.

Macau sat closer to the other countries. She hadn't interacted much with the others before, usually China did that for her. Still, now that she was starting to branch off from China's hold, she felt like it was a must to get at least acquainted with them. She sat near to Iceland, feeling that she could approach a smaller nation easier than a bigger one. Besides, he looked like he could use a friend.

---

While the other nations sat with each other, another country eyed them from the back. She was not easily recognisable, what with her usual military uniform gone. Instead she stood in a short, black cocktail dress and had her face done up bright with make up. China sipped from her drink slowly, eyeing each nation she saw. None of them were of any real interest, except for one. England.

China smiled to herself when she saw her old hatred. Oh dear, what luck that they would show up together. Not that it was too shocking, afterall, following Macau meant that she knew that a meeting was in order, she just didn't expect to find other nations her of all places. China rose from her seat, and walked over to the other nations, and rested a hand on Denmark's shoulder, cocking her head to the side and letting out a seductive smile and gaze, "Ni Hao, Denmark. Got room for one more?"

Spain had a nice long siesta while on the trip over to Germany's place, comfortably sprawled across two laps. She did wake up before they could do something horribly stupid and find themselves missing parts of their bodies, though, which they should really be thankful for. After exiting the train it was a mere hop, skip, and a jump to Germany's house, where they broke- no, let- themselves in. When was the last time she stepped foot in the German's house? Oh Dios, she couldn't remember. It looked a bit different, but it was still nice. Maybe it was cleaner? Or was it the furniture had been rearranged?

Ah, to hell with it all, she had to get something to drink before the other two stole it all!

The short Spaniard had settled herself down with a small horde of bottles claiming them as part of her territory and she would viciously defend if the other two tried sneaking one away from her. Her alcohol tolerance seemed to have leveled up since the last time she had gone binge drinking, so she found out as she peered down into the empty beer in her hand, plenty more already lined up neatly on the floor beside her feet, and she only just feeling the tingling of her senses. Damn it, she would have to go cold turkey sometime just so she could enjoy getting utterly wasted again with fewer drinks. Huffing out a small sigh and hiding a pout, Spain set the empty bottle down with the others on the floor, her green eyes flickering up to her two companions. It seemed that France had found something a bit more than beer and was well on his way of having a massive hangover in the morning.

It suddenly dawned on her that France was looking- no, staring- at her with a look that she had seen previously on the man while watching rather beautiful blondes and brunettes in flashy, fancy dresses. It was on par of the same deeply determined look of a starved dog staring down a piece of meat just out of reach. Spain knew exactly what was going on through that flashy idiot's head.

"No," she said sharply, raising a finger at the Frenchman. "Don't you even think about it, borracho francés." She gave him a look of her own, which if he was sober enough would tell him that under no circumstances he was to even get near her. Otherwise he was going to end up getting a face-full of fist.

France raised his eyebrows at her, running his tongue along his top lips. He had a low alcohol tolerance, due to only really having a glass or two of wine on regular nights. He was sophisticated. He did not usually allow himself to get like this - but it was fun. "I cannot 'elp your beyootiful leeps," he said, waving a hand about in the air. Then, he drunkly took his rose from behind his ear and slipped it between his teeth. He winked at her, and then rose to his feet. Stumbling forward, he barely got his balance and giggled. "I em drunk, I theenk," he admitted.

Denmark had to swivel her barstool a bit in order to see who had touched her - but the voice instantly gave her away. It was very recognisable. "Hej, China," the Nordic nation greeted her, a bit puzzled by her sudden appearance. "Of course, take a seat...en øl til hende, tak." The last part was spoken to the bartender, who nodded and immediately got himself busy pouring her a beer. She returned to China again, noticing the way in which she had dressed and spoken. It was sort of... flirty. Hrm. Maybe she would be trying to build up alliances today. "Why were you not in the meeting?" She asked over the top of her beer.

England, while having allowed herself to be subjected to the other countries' antics and allowed Iceland to drag her out to drink, was not as sociable as some of the others. In fact, she had decided to sit near the edge of the bar, keeping a careful eye on her drink to ensure it was in her hand the entire time. Her thoughts drifted slightly, taking her back to the meeting. She was disappointed, really. Someone needed to knock America down a few pegs or maybe get his head out of his arse long enough to see sense. He was disruptive, brutish and irritatingly judgmental. And his mouth! Why couldn't he just be as sweet as Canada? Canada never gave her the trouble he did.
With a faint sigh, she looked back down at her glass. It was only her first and she had hardly taken a sip of it. She had business to do, after all. She didn't want to waste the night with a few drinks and unconsciousness if she could avoid it. And, right now, it looked like she could.

While Iceland was glad and refreshed by the visit to the bar, he was also slightly disappointed. His attempts to reach out and fix his relationship with England were met with a cold shoulder and the other nation creeping off to the corner to drink away from the group. At this rate, he'd never be friends with her! He just wanted to be on good terms with everyone, was that so hard to ask? He looked sideways at the person sitting near him, quickly recognizing her from earlier. But what country she was, unfortunately, eluded him. Thankfully enough, he wasn't too shy about asking again. "I know you introduced yourself earlier but your name seems to have slipped my mind. Could you introduce yourself again?" He looked at Macau hopefully, a slight smile on his face. He'd work his way up to friendship with England. He wasn't going to give up so easily!

Prussia was a man of simple tastes. While German beer was the best by his standards, he really only cared long enough to get buzzed. At that point, beer was just beer. Alcohol was just alcohol. He wasn't picky in the slightest and the instant he had picked up a bottle, all thoughts about how bad this could end up fled. He hadn't seen his brother in ages and while it wouldn't be a pleasant reunion by any means, he didn't care. He was fully wrapped up in the moment now and enjoying the time he was spending with his friends, drinking themselves into a drunk stupor. Nothing could go wrong at this point.
Moreover, how could Germany get angry with him? He had practically raised Germany! With all the time he invested, his brother could at least rerun the favor with some alcohol. Like, no need to be stingy. He had invested money so so could Germany. In the form of liquid gold, of course.
His focus drifted to a small conversation between France and Spain before the Frenchman admitted he was drunk. "Pffff," Prussia declared with a smirk, setting the bottle between his teeth before taking a large swig. When he set the bottle down, he slumped over Germany's couch, looking up at the ceiling. "I've been dreeenking 'ore than yeeew!" he replied with a smile. "And I feel fiiiine!" He leaned further backwards, resting his head on top of the chair. Ah, perfect. How many beers had he had? He lost count between the couple of shots he did.

France rolled his eyes moodily, and took the rose out from between his teeth."I will be finding la toilette," je announced, putting it back behind his ear and then taking another swig of wine. Turning about, he stumbled down a corridor. One hand rested on the wall next to him, helping in keeping him upright. He did indeed come across a toilet, right next to the main bedroom. He placed his wine bottle on the ground before taking bar of business. It was after he was finished that a terrible nausea took over his body. Retching, the French man was suddenly throwing up alcohol. He rose from being bent over, a hand sliding over his forehead and back over his hair. "I do not feel so good!" He announced into the hallwayy, not bothering to flush. France made his way into the bedroom, vision going in and out of focus. It was then that he passed out, dramatically spread-eagled over the entire bed.

China looked back at Denmark, her eyes still flirty as they drifted off to the side before coming back to the nordic nation. "I mean no disrespect, but I feel like I can achieve more simply by organizing private meetings with other nations." China took a large sip of her beer. "Helps take out all the bickering from the equation, just two nations discussing their future alone. That's the best way that I can see". China sipped some more and smiled at Denmark, reaching her hand up and gently carressing the Danish Country's cheek. "A lot can happen when two countries are alone together" She said before laughing and resuming to drink her beer. It was quite obvious she was slightly drunk, not the usual dominating force that presided over other nations. China then cocked her head to the side and saw England not too far away, "Yīngguó! Yeah you! Come say high to me!" She shouted at her, hoping to at least annoy her.

---

Macau ignored the commotion behind her and smiled at Iceland. "Macau, my name is Macau. I'm Portugal's daughter, but I live with China" She said, hoping that Iceland hadn't noticed her Matron was not too far away, making a scene. Obviously she saw England, and she knew this couldn't end well. "Im kind of a strange nation. China takes care of most of the diplomacy and stuff, but I get to run my own territory"

Denmark dipped her head politely, although she felt differently. China's decision to not partake in the meeting meant that she had missed out on what other countries were thinking. She wouldn't ever miss one unless it was absolutely impossible to attend. The Dane was surprised by the sudden, intimate contact - she did not usually even speak with China, apart from discussing trade. Her blue eyes widened. Was... China flirting with her? With a nervous smile, she reached up to remove the woman's hand and gently lowered it. "Right," she said, letting go of her. Something wasn't quite right with her. Maybe it was the beer. Suddenly, China was shouting across to England. That wasn't going to go down well...