(A/N) heeeyyy. so just a heads up, you've probably already noticed, but I don't write in accents. I think it's annoying to write and even more annoying to read. Sorry if you like that sort of thing, but it just aint happening here. Anywho, here's the new chapter, enjoy!


I'm not one to get anxiety. Sometimes before AP tests my heart will start pounding, but I really don't fret about things too much. So I really don't know where all of this unease is coming from. Maybe it's my subconscious telling me I'm a bad person for sneaking into someone else's personal life. I really shouldn't follow him. But, seeing as I am currently standing behind a tree listening to him talk to someone named "Tony" about getting a lift, I don't really have a choice. Well, maybe I do. It's going to be hard to sneak onto this vehicle of Tony's without Al seeing me. Maybe I just shouldn't try…

Alfred loudly exclaimed, "Thanks!" and hung up. So now he was waiting for Tony. Waiting means he was more alert and NOT distracted by his conversation with Tony. Which means he might look my way. Which means he might ask why I'm lurking behind a tree. Which means I'll have no good excuse and I'll have to either tell him the truth or pretend lurking is normal for me and I just happened to be lurking near him. Yeah… basically I'm screwed.

Fortunately, Tony showed up. Except he showed up in a perfectly stereotypical UFO. And he's an alien. A little white alien with huge black almond-shaped eyes. I think Ruby spiked my coffee. I pinched myself, and it hurt, so I wasn't dreaming. I've never been high, how do you tell? Al was beaming, and he climbed aboard the UFO babbling some nonsense about how whales were so inconvenient and I'm just glad you came and picked me up. His back was to me, so I stepped out from behind the tree. How does one sneak aboard a UFO? The alien –Tony- made eye contact with me. I must have made some small eye or head movement because he nodded a little and pushed a button on his dash board of sorts. A flap opened in the body of the UFO.

Of course I'm not going to get in, normal people don't get into UFOs as they stalk a classmate to France, I thought as I climbed into the small space. Thank goodness I'm short.

The small vehicle took off. I mean, I couldn't see it take of or anything, but I could sure feel it. I don't quite know how to describe it. It was like there were rocket boosters on the floor, but I wasn't moving. Not it's- ugh. It's just a weird feeling. Also, Tony has a very strange language… that Al apparently understands. GO FIGURE.

Ten, (twenty?) minutes later we landed (give me a break, time is hard). I heard Al climb out, and then he must have walked away, because his little alien friend undid the latch on my door. Fresh, cool, rain-scented air flooded the compartment. I gulped it down, thankful to be rid of my own stench. I somehow climbed out, and turned back to the funny, little, white alien.

"Thanks," I said, smiling.

"Bitch," his voice was high and sounded sorta electronic-y, but I'm almost certain that's what he said. Bitch. Was he referring to me stalking his friend, (which was pretty bitchy, I'd have to admit) or was there something else…? I nodded sort of awkwardly and turned around to face my new surroundings.

How many places in the world speak French? Quebec, Canada, France, a couple places in Africa… there were way too many white people for this to be Africa (No offense people in Africa, there were just a lot of white people), and… it can't be France. I don't care who you are you can't fly from Florida to France in 15 minutes. It's not possible. Then again, it's equally as impossible to get to Canada in 15 minutes so… I really have no idea.

I scanned the crowed and saw Al walking into a large office-looking building. Thank goodness he was tall. I started making my way toward him and the building. I reached to door and glanced around, somehow I felt like I shouldn't be here. I mean, I shouldn't be here anyway, but I felt like I shouldn't be here. If that makes any sense. I grabbed the big, brass handle and tried to open the door as quietly as possible. Good thing, too. When I stepped inside and shut it softly behind me, I realized that the entryway was completely vacant. Where the hell was Alfred? My brain reverted to its natural state: logic. There were three doors in the entryway, not including the one I'd just come through, One to my left, one to my right, and one behind the vacant receptionist's desk. I couldn't have been more than 45 seconds behind Al. Due to the fact that he was on his way to a meeting, the door behind the desk was out of the running. The door on my right was farther from me, and if he'd used that one, it would have been (at the very latest) swinging shut as I walked it, right? So it had to be the left door. I knew I was taking a gamble, but I chose the left door.

Thankfully, I was right. I saw Al turning a corner at the end of the hallway. Trying not to make a sound, (which is very hard by the way) I hurried down the hallway after him. I peeked around the corner at the same time that a blond man stepped out of a side room next to Al. Thankfully, neither of them saw me.

"IGGY!" Al yelled, running toward him. Iggy? The name sounded vaguely familiar. Where had I heard it before…? The blond man turned around. He was cradling a large cat in his arms. The cat was sound asleep. And it was big. Not fat, per say, but big. Like, it just had a large frame or it was really fluffy or both. It was cream-colored and had a chocolate, incredibly fluffy, tail and collar. Al gasped. "AMERICAT!" so this was his cat…. OH. Iggy/England/Arthur/whatever the hell his real name is had his cat! I get it now…

The cat in (I guess Arthur's) arms woke up and swiveled its head around to look at Alfred. Upon seeing him it immediately struggled out of Arthur's arms and leapt into Alfred's where it began licking his face and purring loudly. "Ugh, your cat got hair all over me," Arthur said through a very strong British accent. So he was a Brit… He stared disdainfully down at his dark olive green… military uniform. What was with these people?

Al clapped his hand on his friend's shoulder. "It suits you," he teased. The shorter, blonder man glared at him.

"What are you even doing here? The conference doesn't start until nine. That's four in your time zone."

"Tony picked me up right after school, so now I'm here an hour early. I thought you would be impressed."

"I am, just… Tony? You mean alien Tony? America… I still have a hard time believing in him." Arthur shook his head. He… he just called Alfred "America" …why? What the hell was going on?

"You say that, and yet, flying mint bunny."

"Don't diss him!"

"I'm not! You've just actually met Tony before and you still doubt him." They'd started walking down the hallway. I started tiptoeing after them, but now I was in open territory. If either one of them looked back, I was dead meat.

"Yeah, but those were weird days."

"Pictonians invading the planet and turning everyone into themselves until we're the only ones left and we have to save the earth except we fail and then Italy ends up saving everyone with a marker isn't weird at all." Al said. Pictonians? And image flashed in my mind. White. Everything was white. Something green hummed in front of my face. But the image was gone before I could grasp it.

"Just be glad none of the humans remember that. AND IT WAS UTTERLY STRANGE."

Al laughed. "Only you would think so, England." There it was again. England. Gosh dammit why was everyone a country? I mean country names… I don't even know. Mostly I'm just confused.

"Yes, yes I would. Unlike you, I'm actually sane." I could've sworn the cat rolled its eyes.

"Sane? That's funny, England!" Al laughed loudly. Even his cat meowed in amusement. Also on the topic of the cat, I mean, I know people say that a pet and an owner can look similar, but this was uncanny. The cat had glasses. Well, not glasses, per say, but he had dark lines under his eyes in the same shape as Al's glasses.

"No it's not." Arthur/England groaned. "Idiot…"

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"I don't think I believe you."

"You never do." England (oh gosh, am I really thinking of him under that name?) grabbed Al around the waist and pulled him against himself. Oh gosh. Oh gosh oh gosh. They weren't… together, were they? I didn't think Al was gay, he doesn't seem the type… but, there was evidence in front of me. I don't want him to be gay! Or bi… I guess that's better, but still weird. I really don't want these two to be together. Does that make me selfish or jealous or both?

"I haven't seen you in ages, it's nice," Al said.

"You saw me yesterday."

"Yeah, but the meeting was rushed and I had to leave right after."

"Only because you showed up two hours late."

"I can't help if whales are slow!"

"Of course you rode the whale." There was the whole whale thing again. Does that mean that he really did ride a whale to France? I would say that I was beginning to question if he was actually human, but now that I say that, I've really been questioning it all along. "You're an idiot," England said, smiling. (Okay I really need to find a name for him other than England because that BUGS ME)

"You're the only one who says that. Everyone else just says obnoxious."

"That's because you're my idiot," England said, kissing Al lightly on the cheek. I was internally screaming. I don't want them to be together! I really, REALLY don't want that! Also, Alfred was blushing something awful. His entire face was bright red.

"Iggy! You know my people aren't okay with that," he protested.

"Which is really frustrating," England/Arthur sighed. "Sometimes I'm sick of being governed by the views of my people, and I'm sick of trying not to get attached. I don't know how China does it." Both men looked sad. Very, very sad and very old. Not physically old, but … psychologically old. Like they were carrying more weight than they should. Also, there's another country used as a name, this time China. Maybe it was all one giant puzzle, and I just need more pieces to see how it all fits together.

"But hey, I'm almost 250," Al said, eyes shining. Was he talking about age? Like… 250 YEARS OLD?

"Technically you're almost 400, you did spend nearly 200 years as a colony."

"Yeah, but I don't count that."

"Should I feel insulted?" oh gosh, they were totally talking about age. And colonies. Didn't this 'England' call Alfred 'America'? America (the country) is almost 250 at this point… is that a coincidence or not? I don't know which would make me happier.

"Only if you want," Alfred smirked at his friend (if that's even an accurate statement at this point), who rolled his eyes. "So how's this guy been?" Al asked, gesturing with his head to the large fluffy cat that had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

"Surprisingly okay, despite being the embodiment of you," okay… I don't know why, but that didn't surprise me. Maybe I've been surprised one too many times at this point, because I just… the cat really did look like him.

"Oh, you know you love me," Al teased, nuzzling the Brit's ear with his nose. Oh gosh I can't. why…?

"No. fine. But why did Prussia of all people tell me to bring your cat?"

"Cuz I went to lunch with him and Canada yesterday."

"Who?"

"Canada, my brother." HOLD UP JUST A SECOND. This explains SO MUCH. So if Gilbert's 'code name' is Prussia that explains his "Prrrr- Gilbert" fiasco when he introduced himself. And Matt being Canada explains (sort of) him talking about Canada like he owned it. Except not really because he still doesn't own Canada, right?

"Who?"

"Iggy, you raised him!"

"I did? Oh. Is he that kid I took from France but he still calls France 'Papa' to this day?"

Alfred sighed, "Yes, that's him." So… France was in the picture now. Wasn't Matt moaning about how "Papa" would be so disappointed in him if he lost Quebec? Seeing as Quebec is the French portion of Canada, that did make sense. But… but… was this some extremely elaborate LARPing game where everyone pretended to be a country? If it was, good for them and their authenticity. I mean, getting someone of each nationality to represent their country was quite impressive. I wonder how much of this takes place online.

"I haven't seen him in a while, how is he?" England asked.

"He was at the meeting yesterday!"

"Was he?"

"Yes!" they turned into a room. I peeked inside. It was a conference room, long table, lots of seats (LOTS of seats), and a blackboard at the front. "Hey, can I help with the drawings?" Al asked, bouncing up and down in excitement as the shorter man let fo of his waist and grabbed a piece of chalk.

"But you're terrible at drawing."

"Am not!" Alfred lunged at the brit and tried to grab the chalk out of his hand. The sudden movement startled his cat, who yelped and jumped into the air. It came down on England's face, and clutched his head for dear life.

England yelped in surprise. "AMERICA. Get your bloody cat off my face!" he demanded, trying to detach the fluffy creature from his head. Of course Al didn't help him, he was laughing too hard. I was also trying not to laugh; it would totally give me away. BUT IT WAS SO FUNNY.

"Dude, you look totally ridiculous!" Al exclaimed snatching the chalk out of his friend's flailing hand.

Still attempting to pry the squealing cat off his face, 'Iggy' yelled, "ALFRED YOU LITTLE SHIT HELP ME BEFORE I NUKE DC!" it could have been a coincidence, but that seemed to have an effect on the cat. He hissed and leapt off the Briton's face, landing (not so neatly) on the table. And that's the first time I've heard this guy use Al's real name. A break in character? But he was still talking about bombing DC… Damn, these guys were good. They must've been doing this for a LONG TIME. Is it possible to be a professional LARPer? Cuz if it is, then… these guys. I bet you could just film them and publish it as like, a TV series or something.

The brit, after realizing he was free of his fuzzy captor, ran to Alfred, who was busy drawing chibi faces on the board and labeling them as countries. He'd drawn himself the largest, and "England" and "France" (he was still working on that one) smaller underneath him.

"Dammit, you're doing it wrong," England said, pushing Al out of the way and erasing the board.

"Heeeyyyy, those were my master pieces!" I wouldn't exactly call them master pieces…

"Well, we're not even talking about that sort of thing today. We need to address more important issues."

"What's more important than me?"

"Russia invading Ukraine, North African uprisings, the entire Middle East, Japan and Germany's population drops, basically the rest of the world." England said flatly as he sketched out some (really cute) faces on the blackboard.

Al harrumphed and watched the Brit work. "What about the Italys? Isn't Romano fading or whatever?" two Italy reps. Cool beans.

England spun around to face Al. "Don't frakking say it so lightheartedly! I've known that kid since the middle ages, and though he's a point in the ass, I don't want him dead." The Brit was red in the face. This was one serious game if they were taking someone leaving as a "death." That is what's happening, right?

Al held his hands up defensively. "I don't want to see him go either. I'm just asking if we're going to do anything about it."

All the fire left England's frame. "We can't do anything. We… there's nothing we can do. We couldn't save Germania, we couldn't save Rome, France outright killed Holy Rome, there's just… he's going to be dead soon and we can't really stop it unless he becomes independent from his brother, which he'll never do." Al opened his arms and England fell against him, burying his face in Al's neck. Al held his (oh gosh do I dare think it?) boyfriend (OH GOSH NO. DON'T THINK LIKE THAT) against him, attempting to comfort him. Maybe this wasn't a game after all… maybe this kid really was dying. What the hell was really going on here?!

A door slammed shut, that much I could tell. It had to be coming from somewhere in the building, either the front door or the one leading into this hallway. And there's nowhere to hide. FRAK FRAK FRAKKING SHIT I'M SO DEAD. The hell do I do now? Voices were nearing me; it was definitely the hallway door I'd heard close. There were… two(?) of them. One was obviously Italian, and the other possibly German. Not Gilbert though, the voice was lower than his, and less chatty. The Italian was talking up a storm. And I didn't understand a word of it. Something about pasta. So I guess I did understand a word of it… but dammit they were close and I'd dead. deeeeeeaaaaaaad!

Al must have heard them coming because he kissed England on the head and pushed him off his shoulder. "Dude, you're a mess," He said, wiping tears off the Briton's face.

The voices were getting nearer. Was there another room I could duck into? I scanned the hallway frantically, and ducked into a door just as the two newcomers rounded the corner. Turns out I found the janitor's closet, but honestly, that's better than nothing. I left the door slightly cracked so I could see what was going on. It was a risk, but it was worth it.

The two newbies came into my line of view. One was really tall, with blond, gelled-back hair. The other was shorter with shaggy brown hair and this… random curl that stuck out about five inches off his hair. That only happens in cartoons, NOT REAL LIFE. HAIR DOESN'T LOOK LIKE THAT IN THE REAL WORLD. They walked into the conference room and I couldn't see them anymore, but the dialogue goes as follows:

Italian: "England! Are you crying?"

England: "I'm bloody well not!"

German: "Italy!" (So the Italian's 'name' is Italy? I guess that makes sense.)

Italy: "Sorry…"

Alfred: "It's okay; he was crying his eyes out."

England: "America you idiot! You can't just say that to people."

Italy: "Why were you sad?"

German: "Italy, stop pressing."

Italy: "Sorry Germany…" (That also makes sense)

Alfred: "He was-"

England: "AMERICA."

Alfred: "Okay I'll be quiet."

England: "Thank you."

Alfred: "-crying about Romano." Al's such a jerk…

Someone started crying. Hard.

Germany: "Dammit America, don't bring that up!" it had to be Italy that was crying, Alfred did say that it was the 'Italys' that had the problem, and this guy was called Italy… so was he dying or was it the other one? But Al just barely said "Romano" which was more of a name than a country.

Italy: (through sobs) "I don't (hic) want (hic) Romano to go! He's my (hic) brother! He can't leave just like everyone else!" the last few words were muffled, as if he'd been pulled into a hug and was speaking into fabric. Well at least the matter of who was dying was cleared up.

England: (shouting) "America, look what you've done!"

Alfred: "Whoa, chill! I didn't mean any harm."

Germany: "Of course you didn't. You never do. But you always end up frakking shit up anyway." Wow. Harsh. I wonder why people don't like Al… I think he's swell.

Italy: (crying is lighter) "It's okay. We're going to save him, right guys?"

Alfred: "Of course we are! That's what we're here for!" I could hear the cheesy grin on his face.

England: "Um… yeah, we'll try."

Italy: "You guys are the best! Except you still scare me, Mr. England."

Germany: (Heavy sigh) "Italy, that was rude."

Italy: "I'm sorry." Is it just me, or does Germany kinda sound like Italy's mom?

England: "No, it's fine." Someone walked into my line of sight. I guess I didn't hear them coming because I was so focused on what was going on inside the conference room. The newcomer was a male in his late 20's who had nearly shoulder-length blond hair. He was in a rich blue (unnaturally stylish) uniform. He hesitated outside the door for a moment before sweeping (that's the only way to describe it) into the room.

Newcomer: "Ah, monsieurs, I see you've arrived before me." French. This guy was VERY OBVIOUSLY French.

England: "Oh great. It's you."

Germany: "France, I need to ask you something," he said that in very choppy French. His accent was way off, but oh well. Also, Frenchman was France.

France: "Anything." That was also in French.

Germany: "What language are we conducting this meeting in?"

France: "I would like everyone to speak French, but so few do."

England: "so we'll just all try and speak English, because that the most common, and everything will just end up being a bloody mess, just like usual."

Germany: (sigh) "I guess that works." (In English) This "language issue" could either mean they really did have someone from each nationality, or its just for authenticity and I don't know which is easier to believe.

Alfred: "I think English is swell."

England: "you don't speak English, you speak American. There's a bloody huge difference."

Alfred: "Not really." I don't know why it took me so long to realize it, but he wasn't speaking in the southern Floridian accent he usually did. It was more… New York-ish now.

Two more people were walking up now; at least, that's what it sounded like. I thought I heard four feet, but I'm not sure.

England: "Yes really. You've butchered my language!"

Germany: "Actually, it started as my language."

England: "That's not the point."

Two people walked into my line of sight, and I had to stifle a gasp because hey look! I knew those two! Gilbert had his arm around Matt's shoulders, but dropped it once they got to the door. He probably would have grabbed Matt's hand at this point if Matt wasn't holding a small polar bear. What's up with that? Also, Gil had a yellow bird on his head. I'm not even going to question it.

"West! Look! You're awesome bruder is here!" Gilbert yelled as he and Matt walked in.

Germany: "I'm so glad you could make it, Prussia." Never before have I heard such intense sarcasm. "But why'd you come alone? Weren't you coming with someone?" but, but, Matt just walked in with him… that's someone!

Gilbert (Prussia, I guess): "I did come with someone, arschloch! He's right here."

Al: "Oh, hey Mattie!"

Matt: "America, you're not supposed to call me that…" Why? It's his name, isn't it?

Al: "oh, right. Sorry bro." Still brothers in this world? I guess it makes sense cuz Canada (if that's Matt's country name, I think it is) and America were neighboring British colonies, so why not stay brothers?

Germany: "America, why are there two of you?"

Matt: "I'm Canada." His voice was so quiet, I guess it's the curse of introversion. I should know.

Germany: "Who?"

Gilbert: "CANADA. He's the second-largest country, dammit, learn his name."

France: "Canada darling, it's been ages. How are you?" can I just… I don't even know. Canada darling.

Matt: "I was at the meeting yesterday, Papa…"

France: "You were?"

England: "Apparently he was."

Matt: "mmmhmmm. But I'm doing well, thanks." He was so quiet. I can't even. This can't be the same kid I met yesterday. There's no way. Two more people showed up, this time both tall brunettes. The slightly taller one had a curl similar to Italy's except on the opposite side. Okay but seriously how even do people do that to their hair? It's not possible! The curl-ed one was scowling and obviously pretending that he wasn't, in fact, holding the other man's hand. Which he totally was. The other guy seemed like a sweet, chipper fellow. Okay but was everyone here gay? Really? There's just a lot of couples… some of them are rather cute, I mean, I don't know them, but it's cute… the newest couple walked into the room and entered the hectic conversation.

Italy: "Spain! Romano!" I'm guessing the guy with the curl is Romano, cuz he looks like Italy and apparently they're brothers.

There was a muffled yelp of surprise.

Italian accent, likely Romano: "Let go of me, you bastard!"

Someone laughed, then said, "Lighten up, Cariño, he's your brother." So that had to be Spain, and the other voice was Romano…

Another person showed up, this time obviously Asian. He had black hair cut neatly above his eyes, and he was looking very spiffy in his white military uniform. They were all in military wear. All of them. Also, this Asian kid was WAY attractive.

Alfred: "Japan's here!"

"Japan": "Yes, hello, the rest of Asia should be here shortly, and Taiwan apologizes for her not being able to make it." I had to strain to understand his accent, but apparently there were girls too. Female power!

Germany: "Then we're only waiting for them, the Nordics, South America, Australia if he decides to come, and … Austria."

England: "Basically, yes." They all started chatting among themselves and I really couldn't understand a word of it so… what now? Just wait and try to puzzle out what's going on I guess. Or why I was in a janitor's closet. There was always a janitor's closet in the stories, am I in a story no? With what's happening. I very well could be.

Hey look. Five more people just showed up. Three of them were blond, two were silvery-blond. All males. They were all walking very close together, but as they turned into the room I saw the tallest one holding one of the shorter one's hand. More gays. From inside I heard Alfred yell that "the Nordics" were here. How many Nordic states are there…? Denmark, Swe, fin, Ice, Nor… yeah that works. Makes sense and all.

Four more people followed them almost immediately after. This time there were two females along with the two males. They were walking in pairs, the first consisted of a tall brunette man in some variety of formal, Victorian-looking outfit. The girl walking next to him had waist-length, honey-brown hair. She was in a turquoise-blue military uniform, and her arm was linked through his. They really didn't look like siblings, so I guess not everyone was gay. The other two were both blond, this time the man (who was decently short, but not midget-like) was in the military uniform while the female was in a … not Victorian, but maybe late 19th century dress. These two could have been siblings, but I don't know. He was too scowl-y in comparison to her pleasant expression.

The next two to show up, well, one looked like a rapist (I blame the mask. You can't wear a mask and NOT look like a rapist, unless you're Wesley from the Princess Bride) and the other was a crazy cat lady but a guy. Let's just say that he had at least three cats on his person. They were arguing, cat-man looking very concerned and the tall rapist almost laughing at the other man's misery. There was a small outcry form the people inside the conference room when those two entered. Something like, "Japan, your boyfriend's here!" to which the Japanese accent replied, "I'm a heterosexual man, I am not attracted to Greece-san." There was a lot of laughter following that comment. I smiled to myself, these guys were pretty funny. If they had any openings, maybe I could join them.

From down the hallway, there was a loud crashing as the door slammed against the wall and a crowd (it had to be. There were so many voices) walked in all (or most) yelling in foreign oriental-sounding languages. They quickly came into view. I didn't have time to count them all, but they were all cute little Asians. I mean, most were visibly older than me, but… Asians. Following the hard was a man with a panda in a basket strapped across his back. He had a long ponytail, and his sleeves drooped over his hands. I don't quite know how to explain it, but he kinda looked like the other Asians' mom. Not that he looked like a girl, (which he kinda did) but just that air of 'why do I even put up with them?' He was walking slower than the other mob of Asians who'd already disappeared into the conference room. Just as he was about to step out of my line of vision, a voice called out to him.

"Yao!" the Asian stopped as both he and the panda looked back down the hallway.

"Ivan! Russia what's wrong?" 'Yao' asked as a tall, silvery-blond man ran into him. The newcomer was wearing a long, white coat and an even longer scarf that piled around his shoulders and hung down to nearly his feet. He crashed into the small Asian man and hugged him tightly. Well, maybe hug wasn't quite an accurate description. The taller man, Ivan/Russia was holding onto 'Yao' extremely tightly, it almost seemed to be out of fear. "Ack! Get off me, Aru!" the Asian spluttered, attempting to push the large Russian man off of him.

"It's Belarus!"

"Of course it is. You're family if frakking messed up. Get off me." The Asian finally managed to push Ivan off of him. "Your sisters are coming, right?"

"Yep, they're right behind me."

"Great. Let's get inside before they show up." The two walked away. Seeing as there weren't any countries named 'Yao' that had to be his real name, like Alfred. I wonder what country he is. China maybe, going from the motherly air about him.

They disappeared and were shortly followed by two women. They were both blonde, though the tall one kept her hair short, and the short one kept hers at nearly waist-length. The shorter one was scowling, and she just looked really scary. Like, I wouldn't want to meet her in a dark alley. The taller one… looked almost tormented. I don't quite know how to describe it. Also, her boobs were big beyond all comparison. I didn't think that was possible, but lo and behold, it is. Go figure. Maybe those two were Russia/Ivan's sisters. They all did look a bit alike, they could pass as siblings. That is, if they weren't already siblings. This whole thing was really looking like a family affair.

My head was beginning to hurt, so I backed away from the door into the darkness of the closet. My mind was racing at about a million miles an hour, and I had no idea how to stop it. Granted, I didn't really want to. But I seriously needed to figure some shit out. Okay so. Alfred, his brother and a bunch of other people (mostly guys) were at a top secret (or mostly secretive, top secret just sounds cooler. FOCUS, MEG) meeting/conference right now. They all had different countries of origin and were representing their own country, or at least being called by their country's name rather than their own name. In of itself, that's a lot of work to go to for an RPG, but some people were psychotically dedicated, so it's still an option. Um… on the topic of the conference, they're actually talking about real-world issues, aren't they? Or at least that's the impression I got from England's rant. If this was a game, and everyone was getting together from across the frakking world, somehow I doubt they'd stay very on-topic.

And when I ate lunch with Gil, Matt and Al yesterday (oh gosh, it was only yesterday? That feels like an eternity ago)… SO MUCH ABOUT THAT CONVERSATION MAKES SENSE. If Gil is Germany's brother, and the "it's not WWII anymore," and OH MY GOSH THAT WAS A VALID COMEBACK. DUDE THAT'S HILARIOUS. FOCUS for frak's sake. Okay… but the slip-ups. Gil almost calling himself Prussia, Matt blatantly saying England instead of Arthur, that seems odd to me. I can understand slipping up while in character and calling someone by their real name, but slipping up and saying your country name while out of character….

WAIT A SECOND.

What if they were 'in character' while they were talking to me? What if they're out of character now? And by that I mean what if this is who they really are? Like their country names are their FIRST NAMES, and any other humanified name is a secondary name to cover up their existence? No that's bullshit. BUT IT TOTALLY MAKES SENSE. If they're legit personified countries then it would make sense that England stole Canada from France and raised him. It would make sense that they all get together every so often to discuss world issues and actually stay on topic, because they're just talking about themselves and their lives. It makes sense that Al showed up out of nowhere to attend a year of high school. He couldn't stay, first because of the inconvenience to friends, second because he wouldn't grow or age, would he? I mean, you can't be 250 years old and look 18 without some measure of immortality.

But that's just a theory, there's no way countries can actually be personified as people. That's to surreal to actually exist. Right? Right?!

Maybe I just don't want it to be true.

But that's ridiculous. It would be frakking amazing to be friends with a country.

The door closed. Like, the door to the conference room. I glanced at my watch. 4:16. It's been an hour already? Wow… but the meeting was supposed to start at four, wasn't it? So… it probably just started. I peeked out of the crack in the door of the janitor's closet. The hallway was empty, and the voices inside the conference room were muffled. I gently pushed the door open and glanced around before stepping out of the dark, stuffy closet. No one was coming. I tiptoed over to the door and peeked in the little window. A crap ton of people were sitting around the table, while Alfred stood at the head and talked enthusiastically. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but a lot of people had kill-me-now expressions. I recognized some of the people sitting around the table, but it took me a while to find Matt. Who was being sat on by Ivan/Russia. Didn't Al say something about that…?

I was busy trying to identify the ones I recognized and watching people arguing (that was entertaining. Especially Gilbert trying to get Ivan off of Matt, and France and Spain causing shenanigans) that I didn't hear someone walk up behind me.

"Like, who the hell are you?" I jumped and spun around. The guy looking at me was short and blond and wearing a dress. Freaking cross-dressers.

"Um… well... I'm…" I stuttered. I really, REALLY wasn't expecting this and oh gosh I've been found and oh gosh they were going to kill me, weren't they? And oh gosh I'm a dead man! (Woman?)

"Well if you're not going to tell me, then I like, totally don't want to know." Pratty? Check. "Why are you like, snooping?"

"Because-"

"I don't even care." He turned away from me and opened the door. I was too late to move. All eyes were on me and the blond guy, all mouths agape. "I don't know her," he said, sassily flipping his hair as he walked into the room.

"Meg?" Al asked. I'm royally screwed.