When Canada had calmed down and Anne had returned, it was a little too late to stop herself from sending the letter pledging soldiers to her father. Sighing, the young woman tidied herself up a little bit as she returned to the house, looking disapprovingly at the zepplin ominoisly hanging above the gardens. Realising who it belong to, her eyes widened and she quickly hurried to the manor, where a servant let her in. Nodding in thanks, she heard as Britain roared loudly and winced, listning to the rest of the conversation wincingly.

When it was all said and done, she walked over to her father and placed a hand around him, pouring him a glass of brandy and assisting him to his seat. "Dad, dad, calm down. She's not worth being this angry over. She's just a little rebellious and uppity, you might have to fight a small war or two, but that would begood for you! You can spend some time with mother fighting and enjoying each other's companies for a bit..." she continued, shooting the others an apologetic smile.

"Did we manage to discuss anything before we were hijacked by the leather wearer?"

America watched the argument, impassive even at the rising tension in the room. Germany, at this point, was discarding former friendships and outright insulting everyone around her. Great Britain, as usual, was getting angry after having his superiority complex tickled. The usual, really, with him, but this was normally unlike Germany. As a new nation in the world, their political power was somewhat... unstable, and unsure, but they nonetheless pushed it very hard. They were also very good at most things they tried, which begged the question to be asked- why was Erika suddenly flipping her shit?

The answer was all too clear. She no longer wanted economic or political power- she wanted to be absolute. Letting herself into someone else's home, doing her best to piss everyone off... getting others to make the first move, he supposed.



America clasped his spear all the tighter, frustrated with his 'family's inclination towards anger.

"Calm yourself, Britain. You make mistakes when you get angry, and you'll never win if you keep getting riled up so quickly. I thought you would've learned that by now.

You all know that she's going to start a war. There's no other reason to alienate and anger us so- she clearly doesn't think our thoughts will matter in the long run, especially considering that she insulted the most powerful nation in the world."

America paused a moment, before smirking slightly and adding, "And the rest of you as well, Britain, Canada." His smirk came from the knowledge that his economic power easily overtook Britain's, his political power quickly rising, and knowing full well that if needbe, America could likely prevail over Great Britain's military.

"No, there'll be hostilities soon. I'll be in touch later- I think I'll be switching to war production as soon as she makes a move. Let me know what any of you need, and I'll begin shipping it." Nothing like a war to jumpstart the industries that have been starting up lately, and innovation. He had no doubt that whatever Germany was planning would undoubtedly improve his own situation, even if Germany tried to invade him.

"Speaking of zeppelins... they're just really big targets. Nothing impressive about building a giant target around yourself, to travel around at the slowest pace possible."

Such energy, such vitriol, hatred, jealousy and anger - so much shared history and feuds going back centuries. The great European powers Britain and Germany were actually threatening each other in such an open manner. Both Japan and the silent Korea were taken back. Japan never traveled to Europe often and was always a little clueless about the affairs of this part of the world but was the situation really this bad? Such fire! The honesty and force in everyone's words shook the air and reached her guts. There would have been none of this in the East, where threats were veiled in politeness and certain differences in which one prepared the tea and the arrangement of the seating. Westerners - there was a reason she and China called them "barbarians" centuries ago. Westerners were so... unrestrained.

There was not even a chance for Japan to join in and reply while Britain and Germany yelled at each other. Not that she really wanted to. But America's talk of war and switching to a war economy rang alarm bells in her head.

"If conflict is to come," Japan began with her colorful accent, turning towards Britain. "Then you will have my support as is guaranteed by our alliance. Although I am glad that Germany is, as usual, a very healthy girl, I believe her bellicose nature is causing her to make some rather unwise decisions that thus far have lead to unfortunate tensions between us, and fomented an atmosphere like a slowly approaching storm. Under current conditions, I'd say that the future would be... a tad regrettable." Her eyes narrowed as she said this. Japan has always viewed China as hers and with her growing power had recently been influencing the country. China, Old Han - the Celestial Empire - was supposed to be the third roof to be added to Hakko Ichiu. And Japan would not forgive threats to her rightful dominion over the Middle Kingdom, especially not something so bold as helping to modernize its armed forces. But she wouldn't say this out loud.

(Collab with @Nerevarine)


Russia's personal home was truly a sight to behold. The three large domes that compromized the ceiling were magnificently colorful, swirling together reds, greens and whites into a geometric spectacle of architecture.

The insides of her home were certainly no less exquisite, with many walls decorated in masterfully painted murals and depictions of Russia's feats in battle and wars. Further into the palace, one would find the great woman herself, sitting at a decently sized table, a bottle of liquor and a couple of glasses accompanying her. This was a special day, for she expected company soon. Family to be exact.

Though this family was not exactly pleased to be leaving his house. It wasn't like Serbia thought that meeting with his allies wasn't necessary, it's just the fact that he preferred a safe environment, not that those were exactly common for someone who spent half of his time drunk and the other half asleep.

The massive and extravagant castle that Russia called a home brought a sense of familiarity to Serbia that he didn't understand. Perhaps it was the fact that Russia considered herself the Third Rome and Serbia had been quite well acquainted with the second, or perhaps it was just the familiar Slavic atmosphere. Whatever it was, Serbia found himself struggling not to smile, a large change for certain.

Walking up to the door, Serbia found himself unsure what to do, it was so ornate and massive, he thought he might break it just by touch alone. Looking down to the bottle of wine he had brought as a gift, he found himself tempted to pull the cork and take a swig. After a few moments considering, he decided it would be impolite to do such a thing to family, tucking it under his arm and knocking gently on the door with his knuckles, ignoring the slight pain on his weak fingers.

As if on command, the large doors sung back slowly and omniously, as two men, clad in dark green and burgundy uniforms looked on at Serbia.

"Madame Rossiya awaits for you in her personal chamber, at the far end of the main corridor", the taller of the two guards said, pointing in its direction.

Russia reacted in mild excitement to see her cousin once again. "Serbija! It has been too long since last we spoke. Come, sit, sit. Tell me about things, how is Montenegro?" Words flowing out of her mouth, yet still managing to come off as slow and cold. Russia took to pouring a glass of Vodka for Serbia. She didn't ask, but she knew that she didn't need to.

Russia knew why he was here. And taking a drink of the glass she had poured. She looked him straight in the eye as she waited for him to talk, an unspoken signal that she was aware that he needed her help, and she was ready to make good on the promise she had made with him long ago to help in whatever he needed. She was always there to protect her family, no matter how distant they might be.

Well, unless they had something she wanted, as Poland was unlucky enough to find out.

Serbia entered the room, suddeny feeling very small in the presence of his cousin. Pulling back a chair, he sat with a thump, smirking slightly as Russia poured him a drink.

"No need for that, cousin," he replied to her gesture, holding up his gift and planting it on the table. "It's good to bring a gift when meeting family, is it not?" He asked, half as a jest and half seriously, he had asked around on what was good to bring when meeting someone who you hadn't seen in some time, and he had struggled to get a response. It seemed that he had developed a reputation.

"Montenegro's good...er...well, cousin. My apologies, I haven't been in a formal meeting in quite some time," he stated nervously. That vodka was looking good right about now, but Serbia knew he needed to be lucid for what they were to be discussing.

"Of course, I'm sure you know that I'm not here to discuss our relatives... well, in a way, yes, I am, but it's not... hmm, I'm struggling to find words here, perhaps I should get practice more often," he joked, lying, he couldn't wait to be back home and sleeping, though even when he got home, he probably wasn't going to be getting any sleep.

"I'm sure you know that my very freedom is owed to you and your other Entente friends, but there are still some who aren't free. The Balkans are a powder keg, and I seem to be the match primed to light it and cause all hell to break loose. I've plans to free Bosnia from the Austrian yoke, and I need your assurance that you will help me in setting our brother free." he said, suddenly stone-faced and monotone.

Russia raised on hand, motioning for another one of her servants to carry over vessals for the wine that Serbia had been so gracious to bring to her. It was rare for such a drink to come into Eastern Slavic lands, unfit as they were for growing and cultivating such a thing.

Russia listened, face unchanging, blank and serious as Serbia pleaded his case about Bosnia.

"Austria, a mountain in central Europe" Russia uttered out, moving her hands into a triangular shape, locking her fingers together. "A mountain of dust and gravel, but a mountain none the less. And, my dear cousin, when you need to cut through a mountain, you light your powder, and blow that first hole into it, and you dig like hell from that point on."

Russia stood up, quickly finishing the rest of her vodka in one quick motion and handed the glass off to an attendant. "If you are to be the match to set off the keg, than I will gladly be the steel driver cutting the precious gems that are trapped within the mountain's interior." She shot back a face, serious as always. "Indeed, I will help you in freeing Bosnia." Russia extended a hand to her cousin, as she called over another servant of hers.

"Ivan! Go, and tell the patriarch to begin the process of prayers. Pray for the downfall of Austria, the downfall of Germany, and the damnation of the muslim Turks. Have them all plead with God not just to destroy their lands, but to render the very soil they stand on unusable ever again, so that they may never rise up once more."

Russia smiled as the page ran off, and she returned to her seat.

Serbia gladly took his cousin's hand in his, listening with bated breath as she breathlessly described the actions she would take to bring down the imperialist regimes that held sway over all of Europe. He smiled widely, for what was perhaps the first time in years, as their alliance finally entered its final form. Grabbing the cross on his chest, he held it up to the sky, before clasping his hands and offering a short prayer to the holy god who ruled all men on Earth.

"Let it be so! Amen! Amen!" He yelled happily, gulping down the offered vodka in one motion. After a long, vodka-induced sigh, he chuckled to himself.

"Let this be the day that we free all slavs who are ruled over by others, I will assure it is so, and by the grace of god it will be!" He continued in nigh-hysterical glee, before an idea visibly came over his mind.

"The southern Slavs have long been given no say in the affairs of the great empires of Europe, it is my wish that the Slavs finally get that say. One great kingdom, one land of none but the Slavs and the Slavs alone, a Jugoslavija if you will," he spoke with a hand on his chin.

"For a race as great as ours deserves better than what we get, and I will hold that belief until the sun shines no more," he finished with a pound on the table. "I hope you believe the same, cousin."

Russia nodded sagely. "I do indeed cousin. Long have I sought to see our people in the strength we so urgently deserve. I was lucky to have my grandfather unite the East Slavs as one, and I count my blessing every day that I was so fortunate. But, if you were to create this Jugoslavija, then I can assure you that I would guarantee its independence and aid in securing its place in the international scene." Russia may have been a quarter Mongol, but she was certainly 100% allied with her slavic family.

"I should hope, that we are able to liberate our Western family, Pol'sha, Cheshskaja, and others from the hands of the lunatic Germany." She spoke, conveniently ignoring that she held onto a piece of Poland herself. "When war comes, I will ensure that Germany is defeated personally. I shall rip Prussia clean from her clutches, and return it to the Poles as it belongs."

Russia poured herself a glass of wine as she spoke.

"France will be more than willing to help me. My ally is a long enemy of the Hun. And with France comes Britain, and with Britain, well, much of the world."

Russia knew that this war was essentially already over. Herself, France, Britain and whatever allies the two of them would force into the war. There was no way that two degenerating empires of yesteryear could possibly be of use to Germany in this conflict.

Serbia nodded happily with almost every word Russia said, a manic grin settling on his face. Standing suddenly, he again grabbed the cross on his chest and turned his head to the sky, before looking back at his cousin.

"We must be ready, my plan to free Bosnia is no more, now, it's a plan to free us all. This war, no matter how easy it will be, will set us all free from the meddling of all of the empires that continue to delegate their actions to their conquered slaves. I am endlessly grateful to have your aid, good cousin, and I am sure my brothers will be just as grateful," he said, giving a bow to his cousin.

"No matter how weak the sick men are, we do have to remember how powerful the child of Prussia truly is, I'm certain at this point she could defeat both you and France if England doesn't join in aiding us, I know, I've seen her fighting, and it's unlike anything that I've ever seen," he stated gravely. "But I cannot be certain at this point where Italy's allegiance lies, they consider themselves a Central Power, but I have yet to see them and the others together, perhaps the son of Rome is getting cold feet," he japed darkly.

Russia laughed audibly at her cousin's comments on Italy. "I have heard of his problems. He says communists are taking his time." she scoffed at the thought, "I can only say that I would never be so weak as to allow mere communists to over take my desires."

"But, yes, Britain is vital here. I will go to his home and personally state my case for why he should, nay, he must join with us." Russia replied, slamming her fist into an open hand. "I should begin the preparations. Unless you have more to discuss with me, I should begin the journey to London."

Serbia shook his head. "No, cousin, I think we've covered it all, though I would like to share a drink with you, if that's no issue," he smiled, holding up the wine bottle he had bought from France.

Russia smiled, "Of course, I always have time for that." Pouring a drink, Russia held her glass of wine.

"A toast, to freedom, to brotherhood, and to victory!"

"To freedom, to brotherhood, and victory!" Serbia responded with a yell, holding up the bottle before pouring himself a glass and taking a deep drink.

Britain's House

@Dannyrulx@Lady Selune@SillyGoy@OfWindAndRain
The night had grown ever colder, as a rainstorm began brewing in the heavens above. Footsteps clacked loudly against the asphalt as Russia approached the home of Britain. The Ice Queen ascended the steps, meeting a locked door, but quickly eyeing one of Britian's housemates from within.

"Ireland, open the door"

Before the leprechaun had a chance to engage her in conversations about alcohol, Russia strutted past him, making her way towards the man she was here to see. The room was thick with tension, thicker than that acidic black ooze Ireland there kept trying to pass off as a drink. It was clear that someone had crashed the little meeting that Britannia was conducting here.

"Am I late for the festivities?" Russia blurted out as she walked regalty into the room. Britain had assembled quite the motely crew here. Russia eyed them all as she accounted for each face.

"Anglija, Amerika, Kanada," her voice and gaze stopping for a moment as they met with the token asian in the room, "Japanija". She held her gaze for a few seconds, before returning the attention to Britain.

"I am here to announce that I have finalized by alliance with Serbija, and will be aiding him in his war to free Bosnia." Russia tossed her hair back out of her face carelessly, "As I am sure you are aware, Anglija, your lover, Frantsija is my ally, and when Serbija begins the liberation, Germanija will retaliate. We have an agreement, that when Erika attacks either one of us, we will respond in turn. And with your alliance to Frantsija, well, I am simply being curtious enough to tell you to prepare for war inmediately."

Britain's House

@Nerevarine@Dannyrulx@Lady Selune@OfWindAndRain

Well. Looks like the storm isn't approaching, rather it's already arrived, both literally and figuratively. War was certain prospect, especially if Russia was announcing it.

And yet, despite the grim news, Japan offered her a smile. One should always be polite. A hand extended in offering or balled up in a fist, after all, remained a hand. She stood up from the couch she'd been making herself comfortable in, holding up a tea plate with a cup of Darjeeling on it. Her servant Korea moved to stand as well but a subtle gesture from her master - a movement of the elbow - stopped her from doing so. This kaiken was for sovereigns, not territories.

"Rokoku," Japan greeted. If the so-called Third Rome insisted on calling everyone by Slavic nomenclature then she would address her in Japanese. "What dire tidings you bring. In fact, this whole day has been nothing but dire tidings. War this, war that. Serbia hinted about war, Germany came in here earlier and threatened war - and now you have come to confirm it. This is truly a regrettable situation." She furrowed her brows in a vague expression, and shook her head lightly as if in admonishment. "Is peace no longer an option? So many of us great powers are at each other's throats these days. Perhaps if we would just get together and solve these various issues through mutual understanding without resorting to violence..."

And what did Japan hope to gain with such nebulous words? Little. Some information would be nice, but Britain had already filled her in on the Balkan situation before Russia arrived. Really, Japan just wanted annoy her greatest rival. Ah, the Russo-Japanese War - so many good memories.

@Nerevarine


Bulgaria was a good choice Austria nodded. After the situation with Makedonija they would more than gladly jump in on the chance to get back on Serbia. Though she wasnt sure yet how she should word the things to make them work. Her mind got pulled back from her brief musing with her niece words.

"I guess maybe you haven't lost your hand, Österreich! If you have this under control then do what you must and feel free to say you speak in my name, that generally makes things move faster but..."

"Danke sehr, meine Nichte." Austra smiled, of course she havent lost her hand.She was a power that shaped the world. And hearing Germany allow her to use her name how she saw fit was a beautiful gift of power the german nation could give to her Aunt. Austria could kiss her young niece, but resisted. She was a married woman, Austria reminded herself. She knew how she would use this tool to further their goals. Her good mood, was not even dumped by the rude goodbye the unruly nation did when she left them.

"Forgive her ottoman for her rudeness. She has yet to learn proper manners befitting a lady." Austria offered her hand to the Islam state. "It was a pleasure sharing the movie experience with you. Maybe we could repeat it, as well. But for now, allow me to accompany you to your ride. The fog is a dangerous weather to walk alone." Austria stated, leaving out the part she was thinking, that it was dangerous for a weak to walk as they could fall prey to vampires. And the german nation was set not to let those bloodsuckers take away her newly made ally.

"One never knows what shadows are just the tricks in our eyes."

@TalijaKey
"Think nothing of it," Osmani replied, unable to help but crack a smile at the younger nation. "I can empathise with her, I stll remember what it's like to be young and already an empire."

As the moonlight illuminated the darkness, Armenia carried on into the night, seeking out to prepare the ride home. Osmani prefered to travel by horse and carriage, a rather backwards way, but the only proper mode of transportation for the Sultana herself. Osmani was pepared to walk out on her own until she caught sight of Austria's extended hand.

"Woah there girly," the Islamic nation exclaimed, "mind the touching, im not your husband." The Turk then cracked a smile, "Though I hear you are into Polygamy". Giggling a bit, "not that I'm judging."

Osmani took hold of her ally's hand and allowed her to escort her to the exquisit carriage that Armenia was getting set up. "I can't say I'm surprised that you and Hungary were the ones to get together. I kinda always knew you had a thing for him." She tilted her head back in memory, "You were always fighing to take him for your own when I had him under my domains"

As they reached the carriage, Osmani held out her hand to halt Armenia from departing. "Oh, Austria. I would like for you to stop by my home in Constantinople soon. I am inviting Bulgaria over to discuss forming an alliance. I would prefer your niece come as well, but as she has given you the authority to speak in her name, so I suppose it's not necessary"

@Nerevarine


Of course, the older nation would have heard the gossip about her marriage possibilities. "Well, danke schon for not judging me. Its gracious of you. But those plans if they even be something out of them are still in the future." Thougth if she did judged it would have been quite hypocritical in Austria eyes. She was the country that was known for harems.

"Well, I saved my own prince didnt I? You were not exactly that nice to him back then." Austria commented, thinking back to those earlier times. "He is quite the romantic man, I treasure him greatly." She responded, she did love the other nation. When he was doing a romantic gesture for her Austria would always find herself smiling and happy. But more important from it all was that he understood the importance of a strong union. It was probably the reason he was against including another monarchy in their life. At least Austria understood his actions that way.

At her ally invitations Austria nodded. The discussions should happen soon, but preferably not too close to today. She wouldnt want other nations to start preparing from paranoia. "I will discuss with my husband, which dates would be the most preferable. But be sure that I will inform you in time. Have a pleasant ride home, Ottoman." Austria waved the other nation off as they departed.

Herself thougth took several long moments to simply stand there and breathe deeply. A lot has been achieved today and she felt pleased with the results. So many problems will be cut down in less than a few months. She couldnt wait to tell Hungary about the achievements and she made her own way home.

Not long after she came to the beautiful house that was shared between her and her husband and often visited by all the others that stood united with her. Entering it, Austria frowned noticing the lack of lights. It couldnt have been that late, could it? Inside the hallways she walked and once in her favorite room, a lounge with a piano and simple but elegant garniture rested a note.

It was Hungary handwriting. He had to leave to deal with a Romanian problem involving transilvania. She huffed, slightly annoyed with how often this was happening, but it didnt matter. She was sure her husband would manage to deal with it effectively, and swiftly return to her. In mean time the germanic nation decided to rest. Afterwards, she could maybe arrange to meet another nation. Be polite and see how things are going, trow some of their future enemies off by showing that she wasnt seeking war or power. With thoughts on which nation she should pay a friendly visit she went to rest.

Thougth several hours later the word of her niece visit to england would come to her and Austria would groan. The servants of half europe were retelling how loud the yelling was. The lady felt like a new headache was crawling her way up. She truly had to wonder if her niece enjoyed torturing her by creating more work for her aunt or if she did that subconsciously...

Maybe she should see if she could visit Belgium and make things less tense. Ask maybe for some ideas for desert that she could prepare for her husband. Yes, that sounded plausible as a reason, or plausible enough.

Germany stopped as she was about to enter her Zeppelin, looking back at Britain's palace. She'd be back, and next time she wouldn't bother to be as kind as to change boots so her hobnails didn't ruin Britain's floor. Crossing her hands behind her back, Germany regretfully entered her Zeppelin and walked slowly to her cabin. It seemed Britain had forgotten his roots, back when he was the one ravaged by constant invasions, how he had managed to get out of muddy Europe to find his place under the Sun. Like France she had, certain of his own greatness, become an arrogant fool. Greatness did that to people and who knew, maybe it would be Germany's turn later.

As the craft took flight, her thoughts went back to the continent. Belgium. How honorable that he'd take such concern for her! Bah, with Britain one should never take anything at face value. This country was just a pawn Britain had set up to screw over Netherlands, France leaving it be only because she was scared to have an even longer border with Germany. The Kaiser ate Flandern for dinner during the middle ages, it was only destiny for little Belgium to come back to where she belonged. The words of Britain did echo in her mind however, this outrageous and coarse sailor being as polite as he ever was. Women really did only sleep with him for the money or maybe being an asshole was catchy for some people. This was why Germany preferred girls, they were so much more graceful, good thing her aunt Austria never lowered herself to sleeping with Britain. Germany was willing to bet he'd want though, with how large her... 'Alps' were, who wouldn't? No, no! She had just left that literal gutter of England, no need to get her mind in a figurative one.

Suddenly the humming of the motors that served as a background to her thoughts seemed to become sporadic and then quiet. "Achtung! Malfunction on starboard motor 2, I repeat, mechanical malfunction!" Gott, not again. Getting up from her seat, Germany quickly paced to the command room, entering to see some technicians rushing out and the captain looking at his maps. "Report!" She commanded with force. The captain turned around to salute her. "Fraulein Erika! We have suffered from minor a minor malfunction. Nothing serious, but the engine is out of reach, we'll need to land to repair... The wind is pushing us to the right as we advance, increasing motor speed to compensate would make us turn in circle. This is our current course." Germany walked to the map and found herself not able to look, due to her small size. "Captain, if you will." The bearded man closed his eyes and sighed before kneeling on the ground like a praying muslim, Germany stepping on his back to boost her stature and look at the map. At least she didn't have hobnails thought the captain. "Good, we'll fly above Belgium and land in Lothringia."

"Errr, Fraulein, if I may..." Germany raised an eyebrow and looked down at her pedestal. "We... should land in Belgium. If the winds change or suffer more malfunctions, we might crash or worst, land in France." Well, that wouldn't be good. "I guess it cannot be helped then... Fine, I'm sure Belgium won't mind. Land as soon as possible to do the repairs!"

Belgium's House

"Hey, Flandern! You don't mind if I stop an hour or two to repair my ride do you? Of course you don't!" Germany was standing in a doorframe of her Zeppelin as she screamed down at Belgium's house. Not like Belgium could do anything to stop her... no really, the Zeppelin had had other malfunctions as they drifted here, it wasn't going anywhere until it was repaired, Germany was stuck there until then no matter if Belgium wanted or not. Taking a rope in her hand, Germany jumped down as airmen tried to stop her, it was a two stories high jump! But Germany only slightly bent the knees as she touched the ground and braced the rope, sticking her heels in the ground as she did. The drift actually slowed as Germany was dragged a couple of centimeter, a moat of grass forming under her feet as she moved. Soon enough though, the sailors were low enough to jump down with their own ropes and stop the drift entirely. Well, hopefully Belgium didn't care about her garden because a dozen pair of German boots were trampling all over it. Better still than the couple of millions this land was destined to feel in a few years.

Seeing the situation was under control, Germany let go of her rope and left the job to the airmen, turning to look at Belgium's house before taking her off her cap to wipe her forehead from sweat. Technical malfunctions couldn't get in the way of her good mood though, this was a beautiful day and Britain had showed weakness!

Belgium's House

Belgium had recently received a letter from her... Aunt? She supposed in a way Austria could be regarded as her aunt, and the two had a good relationship at any rate, so even if she wasn't related to her, she was more than happy to call her aunt. Apparently Austria needed suggestions for something to please Hungary, something sweet, and Belgium specialised in something sweet. Perhaps... She was busying herself around her kitchen as she pulled down ingredients for a nice chocolate cake, perhaps black forest gateau? No, that was France's territory really. Two tier chocolate sponge? Mmm... She could already see how tasty that would be.

She placed a few bars of her own chocolate into a pot and was about to start melting it when she heard the roar of German's blimp engine, although... It seemed wrong... And too loud. Running outside, still with her apron around herself, and sighed as she saw the blimp coming down outside her house. Hoping beyond hope that the jump would break her leg or something so that she didn't have to deal with her cousin, she was sorely disappointed.

"Hello my cousin. You certainly know how to make an entrance... Come in, come in, don't mind the mess, I was just baking. Austria's coming around, I'm sure no coincidence?" She sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was engage in pointless rhetoric with both of the Central powers. "Please don't try to stick your grubby fingers in the cake mix. Just... Sit down there."

"Was there anything in particular you wanted to talk to me about, or was this purely an... Accidental visit?" The younger country leaned down and placed a few logs in her oven and lit them, before carefully whisking the batter.

Belgium's House

Austria was in the back seat of her car, reading over the budget reports as her driver drove her to Belgium's home. She knew how to drive, but she much rather preferred to have a driver as it allowed her to use her time for more important things. She was adding the numbers together when something came into view. A blimp, her niece zepelin to be more precise. The thin line of smoke that were appearing to be coming from the engine end were hint enough for Austria to have an educated guess.

She landed to have repairs.

Austria put the documents to the side and readjusted her skirt and blouse that hugged her waist and chest comfly. Her hair this time pulled up to not get in the way with cooking. She didnt await her niece to be with the other female nation... but... Austria was starting to have a few ideas. Ideas that sure would make up for the annoyance she felt when she heard the gossiping stuff about her meeting with England.

The car parked and her driver run out and around to open the door for her and offer her the basket filled with fresh fruits and nuts. She took it and with a joyful smile made her way thougth the more or less trampled garden. The poor flowers, the germanic nation commented and knocked politely on the door and waited.

Once it opened Austria would offer the basket. "Hello Belgium I brought some fresh fruits as a gift, to sweeten the day some more. I would ask you how your day is, but I can see it held some surprises already for you."

Belgium's House

Germany had a wide smile as she entered the house. "Yes I do! People don't notice nearly enough!" She'd say Belgium had keen eyes but really, you'd have to be blind to say the person who jumped down a MOTHERFUCKEN' ZEPPELIN didn't know how to make an entrance. "And please Flandern, it really is a coincidence, really! You've spent to much time around your dad, maybe he would fake mechanical problems to have an excuse to speak to someone, probably to try and lay on the charms, but you know I'm not like that!" Germany stopped looking around Belgium's house to stare at her back with a wicked smile. "If I want something I go through the front door and take it."

Her feature softened. "But I know how that sounds, so no, don't worry I'll try to taste that cake before its done, I know to wait for my time and for you to share a slice with me." That wasn't a question, one would note. Still, she took her seat and waited, staring at Belgium's back with intensity as she worked. "...I'll be honest, I'm very pleased you'd let me in for a couple of hours while the mechanics sort out what's wrong with my motors." Yes, maybe Belgium wouldn't object to letting Germany go through her country, just a little while of course, to get to France's house. "Say, I-"

Before she could finish her sentence however, there was a knock on the door, making Germany shut up as she wondered who this was. Her eyes darted on the door and back to Belgium, fixating on her as she moved to open the door. Austria? What was she doing so far up north? "Österreich! And you even brought a gift for Belgium?! Scheiße, now I feel bad for not bringing anything but the British dirt under my boots. Well, I guess my wundervoll presence is all I really have to offer right now! But no worries... I always remember when someone does me a good turn." It was really easy! Because no one ever seemed to do that, ever.

Belgium's House

"I can't imagine why cousin." Belgium played up the sarcasm. The reason why, she wanted to scream, is because you're a crazy-ass bitch with daddy issues who for some reason is tolerated by the Ottomans and Österreich! Germany was so self-conceited and arrogant... The little bitch had ruined what would likely have been a nice, cordial, enjoyable afternoon with her leather fetish and Belgium was inwardly fuming. Outwardly, she seemed content, although a faint expression of annoyance crossed her face as she all but demanded the cake. "I won't be eating the cake Germany, and neither will you. It's a gift, verhest du?"

She was smart enough not to mention that it was for Britain and France, the two were having some kind of anniversary and she was happy to discard the rather sticky reputation that came from genocide. Hell, she had learnt from the best, and he seemed to dodge out of being accused a maniac who wanted to slaughter the Congolese... Or whatever particular country he had genocided, she couldn't recall.

"Hello Aunt!" She said warmly to Austria, graciously taking the fruit basket. "Yes, it seems cousin Germany here had some issues with her zepplin and needed to make some repairs. Since she was in the neighbourhood, this is where she ended up!" She put on a thin-lipped smile of disapproval when she was facing her aunt, which quickly changed as she turned around, picking a pear out of the basket and taking a large bite. "Sehr gut, as always my dear aunt."

Her stomach turned a little, and she gave an awkward laugh. "This seems to be like the start of one of those trashy romance novels with the noblewomen and the servant girl, no? Or am I the only one that reads those ones? Would be a shame..." She was a young country, might as well use that to her advantage.

Turning to the pot, she continued with the cake batter. "Austria, would you like to help preparing this delicious sponge? Germany... You have the culinary skills of a German, don't bother." She waved her whisk in Erika's general direction, before getting to the topic at hand.

"This is about the war, isn't it."

Belgium's House

Belgium let her in, taking the basket. It was more than clear the nation was not that happy about her niece in her home for repairs. She let a soft hum at the compliment of the fruits, Erika piping just then.

"If you are dirty there is no cooking around you. It would ruin the taste of any cakes we two decided to make." Austria replied crossing her arms she was seriously about that actually. Dirt doesnt belong in any kitchen even less english dirt on boots. Belgium commented and Austria wasnt getting much time recently to read, but the way the young nation spoke did made her curious about it.

"I am not aware of the books you mentioned. Maybe you could retell us the plot." Austria moved closer looking over the things Belgium already put out for the baking. Hearing the offer to help, she nodded and seeing the perfect opportunity to add on a suggestion she found a lot more interesting than simply making her niece sit outside the kitchen.

"How about you lend Erika something clean to change into and we two can teach her a bit of ladies charms. How is she to woo any hearts if her speciality are potatoes and wurst..."Austria tilted her head in thought a finger tapping on her chin as she added as an afterthought.
" ...well maybe big potatoes and a big wurst... Though those she does do really well."

The thing on Belgiums mind was apparently not a germany in a flirly dress, but a topic she didnt want to hear about. War. They were preparing for it, but her intention was to call out to the world that she wanted peace till the second the first bullet fires. Good thing she was absolutely prepared for it. Austria changed her demure shrinking a bit onto her self. Face losing her cheerfulness. Her voice dropping in strength as she spoke a response.

"Am I that oblivious? I guess a woman's intuition doesnt escape anything." She waited a brief second to catch Belgiums eyes before she continued averting her gaze to her hands. "It felt like we two had a war... It wasnt, but the words we exchanged were like flying on a warpath. I didnt meant to say those things to my husband... " She looked up continuing to speak as if one would when something you hold back something that troubles you.
"I didnt see him in several days." That was true, he was busy taking care of home business visiting their people.
"I miss him." True, she was starting to miss his occasional romantic act and flirt. His words of reassurance telling her that everything will turn just fine, because they were united.
"I am starting to think he may not love me... or that he thinks I dont love him..." She couldnt say that at her worst days she was not wondering exactly that. But he stayed with her, working together with her.
"I want to show him I still do... It would mean a lot to me if you help me make something to convey it." Austria didnt look towards her niece, as she grabbed Belgium's hands in her own in a plea. "Plese." She hummed the word, giving the nation holding the whisk still in hand her best adorable eyes.

Belgium's House

"Please Österreich, one cooks with her hands, not her feet! What does the dirt on my boot matter in a kitchen." Was having floors clean enough to eat on them not an expression? Still, it really did sound like her aunt was telling her what to do and not to do but... no, it couldn't be it, she must know better since the last time she tried to tell her father what to or not to do.

Trashy romance novels? Well, Germany figured France had to export something somewhere but never did figure what kind of goods people could want from her, guess this was one. Still, Germany wasn't one to find too much interest in those, too much focus on the weakling getting swept off her feet by the strong and dashing savior. Der Ring des Nibelungen, now that was a good love story between figures as mythical as herself, the gods of old!

And then of course, that damn sensation that somehow these two were insinuating things about Germany's own abilities came back, though not as annoying as last time. After all, it simply seemed like these two didn't know what they were talking about. "Funny how you compliment me Flandern but somehow manage to make it sound like you're not. I mean, obviously I wouldn't know how to cook! As they say, necessity is the mother of all inventions and since I've never starved because I'm just, lets face it, simply too good at planning for hard times for this to happen, why would I have to come up with creative new ways to feed myself? Really, any of you think France first ate slugs or a pork's tongue because it looked tasteful? PAH! She just turned being miserable into an art form. Though I have to admit, I guess there is something impressive in being so graceful at failing pathetically." Diversity, who needed this? Nutrition, that was what was essential, and with potatoes on her side, Germany would never starve and with wurst on top of it, her moral would never falter.

Though, maybe Österreich had more insight in this than Flandern. The 'Turnip incident' where Prussia tried to make her daughter eat this miserable vegetable had really put off the young country in trying 'exotic new things'. Once again, it came to daddy issues.

"And auntie..." Germany showed a complacent smile. "You don't need to learn to cook to woo someone if you place yourself in a position where people need to woo you instead. I guess its why I assumed you'd give me a slice, Flandern." Oh yes, this went perfectly well on the subject of the war. Still, Germany felt generous. Invading Belgium wasn't needed really, she just had to let the German armies go through her country! Actually, Germany could even allow Belgium to join the Central Powers, it would be hilarious to see France's face when Germany allowed some of her land to that pathetic buffer state!

But then Österreich began to talk about relationship nonsense. Ugh! Could she see it was NOT the time to do this?! And Hungary really, how many time did Germany tell Austria he was a good for nothing barbarian who didn't deserve her? If Österreich wanted to beg her for help in such a way then she'd have to try hard. Crossing her legs, Germany raised her chin with arrogance as she closed her eyes and listened to her aunt.

Each of her words made her despise Hungary even more. How dare this Hunnic worm cause so much distress to a proud descendant of Germanicus? Did he not realize the incredible luck he had to have married the second most desirable lady of the world? (After Germany herself, of course.) But Austria had some blame too, she was really pushing that 'Hard to get' act she started on Prussia on the onset of the formation of Germany and getting a husband was totally going too far! I mean, sure, get yourself to be desired woman but by Gott, there were some damn limits! Ultimately however... Germany could not resist the plea of her aunt and decided to do all in her power to show how dedicated and how much self control she had by giving Hungary a chance to right his wrongs. Germany opened her eyes and her mouth to speak and...

...

...Saw her aunt was speaking to Belgium...

...

The Teutonic furor bottled up inside Germany at this moment could have burned to a crisp all the pagans in the world. "I'Ll Go CheCK On mY rePAirs. BE riGHT bAck." The uniform clad girl got up and walked out, boots echoing as she walked out to the front yard.

Passing through the door, Germany took her cap in her hands to look at the sky before squishing it with force. "Gott im Himmel, give me the strength." Prussia had told her countless times, it was in the songs of her people. The fatherland was everywhere people spoke German to praise the holy name of god and that meant Austria was part of the family and although family members may quarrel, they may not feud and it was destiny that Germany should become whole and great only through the common will of all Germans. But this was so. fucking. hard. So great was the temptation to just pull Austria out of her house and into Germany's by force.

How could she not like her?! She had an army capable of defending her realm against any would be attackers, a navy that made even Britain start to sweat a little. Respect, power, colonies, money... And yet she was still looking after that fucking husband of hers, considering taking another bloody untermensch as a third husband and asking a Franco-anglo-dutch bastard of a country advice about how to solve this bloody train wreak she had gotten herself into, Ottoman style.

Her teeth clenching, the leather of her gloves twisting that cap of her cracking and with tears mounting to her eyes, Germany questioned the sun, God in Heaven, why was the path destiny had set in front of her so arduous...

Britain's House

The lone eagle in the room took a step back, as new players entered. Bickering, however subtle, began, going back and forth without fail. This sort of thing will always happen when the great countries of the world are in the same room- always bickering. Germany and her insanity, Russia and her insistence to follow her own tradition, language, in someone else's home.

Japan's last words were hopelessly naive. Come to an agreement? Work together? There was once a time when he thought he could do that with his enemy. The only reason his father ever let him go is because he made it far too costly for him to continue the fight against America- he did not delude himself that he had truly won that war. Great Britain could've won if he pushed hard enough, but it would've meant a total loss of all the other colonies, and being bankrupt besides.

No, all cards must be played carefully- and that includes when to lay some down, and go to war with it. There was a war coming, he knew, and very little could stop it.

Catching the eye of his father, he gave a slow, farewell wave, and a slight nod, before turning and slipped out of the room, and house, behind the backs of everyone else.

Seeing himself out, he clacked his way down the steps of his father's home. Bidding one of his men over to him, he leaned down and began speaking.

"Find the location of the German immediately. And then get me the transportation to get to her- that zeppelin of hers is hardly the fastest or most trustworthy invention."

Belgium's House

It was no small amount of satisfaction to see Germany's great and proud zeppelin... grounded, and smoking from one of its engines. German engineering can be great, but Erika very definitely oversells it.

And speaking of the German leader, she was clenching her fists, glaring at the sun. What did she think she was going to do, intimidate the sun? Having seen a fair bit of Erika as of late, and hearing plenty more, he wouldn't be surprised if that was what she planned to do. The fool was going to burn her eyes out, anyhow, staring at their system's star like that.

"Fräulein Brandenburg, if I may have a word before delivering something to Belgium here," he started, knowing full well that Erika might prefer another prefix.

He approached from behind her, no doubt taking her by surprise. He flew partway here; it was a terrible inconvenience to have to do it himself, but the second version of the first type of passenger aircraft was rather cramped on space, so it was just him, a pilot, and his intelligence officer.

Having caught Germany's attention, he gave what he would call a smile, and began.

"Tread carefully. You are not a world power- you don't have the support for it. Don't act like one. You are making a great many enemies, Erika, and you appear to be planning on making more. Don't forget that I can outproduce all European nations combined, and that every time I went to war, I go all in. Don't make an enemy of me or mine, Brandenburg. You won't enjoy the consequences."

Giving the nation a nod, he turned and began walking towards Belgium's homestead. Reaching his hand out, his intelligence officer placed the letter in his hand. Nodding his thanks, he unfolded it once, to ensure that it had everything in order. He wrote it on the way over- a general sum of warnings and pledges that America is always a friend to the good, neutral nations of Europe- those that have nothing to do with the terribleness that may occur.

Knocking on the doorway, he waited for it to open before presenting it.

"For m'lady Belgium, to read whenever best suited. Have a pleasant evening."

And with that, America left the foreign lands, studiously ignoring Germany and her ungainly zeppelin, intelligence officer in tow, in one of the first planes ever created. Germany may have her luxurious zeppelin, but America preferred to make things that did a job well and fast.

@Nerevarine@Lady Selune@Dannyrulx@SillyGoy



"Decrease altitude, yes, perfect... slow down... and... land. Bon travail Madagascar, I'm so proud of you!" France said, tweaking her son's ear with a smile. Opening the basket door, France moved to the side as her progeny spilled from within, spreading across the grass like water poured into the dirt. She looked over at Britain's home with a wide grin, her arrival was sure to bring a little blush to Britain's cheeks, perhaps Canada's too, she enjoyed teasing the little girl, though when she turned into Samuel it became a lot harder to do so. Other than teasing her love and their child, France had no real plans, perhaps that was something she'd have to speak to England about.

The Gambia held open the door as the rest of France's children took out their trumpets and lined up against the walls. France herself gave a cursory "Bonjour" to the obviously perplexed Ireland, brushed her dress and pulled a few locks of hair over that hideous scar that she had yet to pay Germany back for. She entered the room with a grin to the sounds of her colonies poorly playing their instruments, they'd have to work on it.

"Salut mon cherie!" She said giddily as she saw Britain. As the rest of the room turned to her, she immediately regretted her decision, noticing both Japan and Russia were also there. Coughing and turning up her chin, she offered a nod to the others before taking a seat, somehow managing to hide her embarrassment. Her children grouped up and sat on the ground, obviously bored out of their minds, especially Indochina, who grew more and more unruly as the years went by.

"My apologies for my informality, I was certain..." she shot Britain a look "That I would only be paying a visit to John, mais, it seems as if I'm going to have to entertain guests," she said with a glance at Japan. She didn't exactly trust the new empire, no matter how many times she relayed her suspicions to Britain he was having none of it, the only person who seemed to agree was America, and talking to him about the Pacific was a recipe for disaster, he seemed to think he had a monopoly over both it and the Americas. He was a special child alright, yet another example of Britain's failure as a parent. It was good thing he was cute, or else she'd have no idea what would become of him.

"Salut, Mademoiselle Russie, comment ca va?" She turned to her ally. Her and Russia were rather close, though France had to say she was not impressed with Russia's technological failures. She had heard about an Entente meeting at Serbia's house, but she was rather displeased with him for a statement he had made a few days back, she guessed that now was the time to talk strategy in the case of war, which seemed fast approaching.

"Algerie? Chercher maman un sandwich au jambon s'il vous plait." It wasn't fancy, but nothing in Britain's kitchen really was.

Britain's House

@SillyGoy@Dannyrulx@Lady Selune@bluetommy2

Russia's eyes rolled in her head to lock her great rival, Japan, into her field of view. Rather mechanically, Russia turned herself to face the so-called Marvel of the East.

"Japanija, Glorious Nippon, in the flesh once more. I trust you have been well since our last encounter?" the Slav straightened up her posture and cleared her throat slightly, glossing over her horrific defeat in the Russo-Japanese War, a war from which her body and her reputation still has not quite recovered. "Peace is not an option for anyone in this room, I am afraid. Had peace truly been a desire of ours, we would have simply stayed in our homes, rather than making promises to fight." Her eyes once again scanned the room as she crossed her arms, "I am only confirming the inevitable, and being charitable enough to give you time to prepare yourselves rather than be swept up in a surge of battle."

As she awaited the replies and retorts of the other nations, Russia caught the sound of something outside. The return of Germany? No, this didn't feel like her presence. Before she could react, the doors were open, with the blaring of trumpets and a cacophony of francophonic chatter. Ah yes, France and her spawn.

"Bonsoir, Mademoiselle France," Russia spoke in turn, with a friendly smile for her ally, Ça va bien, merci. J’éspère que ça va bien pour toi aussi? Many nations had forgot or were ignorant to the fact that Russia spoke fluent French, having mastered it during her time of idolizing France. Some even joked that she was only capable of speaking on complicated topics in French. That may have been true for a time, but Russia had indeed refined her native language to be just as eloquent and technical and that of French. Still, she liked the way that it sounded, and she wouldn't refuse the chance to show it off. "Je parlais tout juste avec Angleterre et les autres sur la chance de guerre en ces temps."

England sighed and theatrically brought a hand to his forehead as he heard someone else coming, the ragged fanfare... Wait, no, he knew who it was. He perked up almost immediately and threw his arms wide as France came in the room. France, his oldest associate, France, his wife, sirer of his favourite child, France, his oldest ally and rival. "Mon petit cho-fluer," he said in less than perfect French, but with an expression of love on his face. He was... Well, his French was only about eight hundred years rusty, but it had evolved in that time- he could speak Latin better than he could French, which was unfortunate.

"I only expected to be hosting our daughter and our rather rebellious son Britain stared pointedly at his wife. There were many things he had forgiven France for, but assisting America in leaving the commonwealth was not one of them. She had had no right- what if he had supported a rebellion in Northern Africa?

Talking about North Africa... "Where are my manners. Germany thew me off my stride... Please, come along to the dining room... What few of you remain. I did have a meal prepared for our visitors... Dammit, has anyone seen Anne anywhere?" The host, suddenly with something to do, lead the small party that remained to the... Banquet hall was a far better word for it. It was a room large enough to house most of the civilised world for a dinner party, but it would seem pathetically empty with what few remained.

"Now, I'm sure you're not expecting something amazing, however... India, my dear?" One benefit of having the Jewel of the Empire was that he did have access to her absolutely wonderful cooking. The country came out with a bow, a turban wrapped around his head, and he carried out a number of dishes- India had a strange ability of breaking himself up into various provinces, an ability that proved useful in stewardship.

"No starter I'm afraid, it's straight to the main course. We have a number of dishes, korma, rogan josh, vindaloo..." His face hardened. "And tactics. Russia, France," he nodded to the pair. "India, you best stay here. I'll need your men for what is to come." His son nodded and pulled up a chair some way away from the main participants of the conversation.

"Now, as I was saying. Russia. France. Japan. If America was here I would talk to him too, but somehow I believe this will be a European affair. If Germany invades, then chances are that she will attack through Belgium. As her father and..." Well, lover it was true. He was related to most countries, incest was slightly unavoidable. He cleared his throat. "As her father, and as the signer of a pact that ensures her independence, you must understand that I cannot let this occur. France and Russia, you will be on the frontlines."