(Chapter 1) Stranded: Hotel Rooms [Introduction]
"The flights are all what?" America complained, staring up at the large, electronic board in the Moscow airport. The blizzard outside continued to rage on, as the nations stood in the warm sanctuary of the building.
"Cancelled, America. All the flights are cancelled. I told you that this would happen, but you just insisted on trudging through all that snow to get here." Britain looked disapprovingly at the American, who's light blue eyes were wavering behind his glasses.
"But... We have to go home sometime, right? I-I mean, we can't be stuck here in Russia forever..." The other countries around him knew how he felt, just as scared of the creepy soviet and his sisters as he was.
"Well, I'm sure at some point this bloody storm will end, but until then..." The Brit looked out through the window at the snow fiercely whipping through the air. "I guess we'll have to find somewhere to stay..."
"Da!" Everyone turned towards the source of the single cheerful syllable, as if they didn't already know who it was. Russia stood, tall and happy, leaning over the Baltics. "I know just the place! Follow me."
The wind pounded briskly against their cheeks as the nations of the world walked though the thick snow of Moscow. The countries who were used to warmer climates, such as Australia and Egypt, could barely endure the chill, whereas even the colder regions felt quite a bit of discomfort. Soon they reached a large hotel, with the Russian word 'Любить' displayed on a sign outside. Nobody, spare Russia and his sisters, could understand or even pronounce the word, so they brushed it off as unimportant. They stepped inside the building, all very glad to have gotten out of the snowstorm and into the heated hotel. Looking around, Italy nudged Germany's arm and pointed out a pretty chandelier. Poland explained that all the people milling about the establishment were very fashionable, and France started flirting with the woman behind the counter (though he knew no Russian, he still seemed to impress her with his fancy French). The soviet in the group stepped towards the desk, and began speaking his native language with the woman. They worked out a room plan, complete with him writing something down on a piece of paper, and by the end, Russia turned back around.
"Alright, there's two beds in each room. I've assigned your room partners, which are written down here!" He held up the paper in front of the group, for all to see.