"So," Alfred spoke to Alice after the woman finished relaying the events (with comments here and there by her and Matthia) that led to their current predicament to the rest of the world. Whatever world issue it was they were supposed to discuss forgotten in favor for that. It's not like any of them got anything done with these meetings anyway. Well, except for maybe inflicting bodily harm to the people they hold grudges from. Honestly, Julchen sometimes couldn't help but think that's the main reason the nations even bother with these meetings - as petty as it may sound, it's the only outlet they have for releasing all those pent up stress and frustration their government cause them by screaming and fighting with each other, now that declaring wars were out of the question. "It's your fault why you guys are like that now?"
Ignoring the different whispers that broke out after their explanation, the Englishwoman woman reddened in either embarrassment or anger, Julchen couldn't tell, but she does know it was an expression so Arthur she couldn't help but laugh at.
"I wouldn't have said it any better." From where she was seated on Ludwig's chair, she laughed her signature hissing laugh, lightly patting the head of her little brother who was still passed out on her lap stretched on four seats lined horizontally. The little traitor. Seriously, where had she gone wrong in his upbringing? She never thought the little shit (okay, maybe calling him little wasn't apt but - hey! He's her little brother!) Would faint on her for something as small as this (not really) - when he did none of that back during the war and the aftermaths and just about everything else the German nation experienced, most of them she caused. He would only sight tiredly, rub the cresses between his forehead, and either try to get her out of her current mess or just ultimately leave her on her own. Never faint.
The archipelago sent her a dark glare that might've made a lesser awesome man cripple and cry but it barely affected the Prussian, having found out the other's glare had lessened its intensity without those pathetic excuses of eyebrows. Wouldn't you know? Those abominations do have some use...
But when the blond opened her mouth to deliver an equally scalding retort, she was interrupted by the shrill cry full of anguish coming from Matthia. Almost everyone's attention was turned to the Dane as she stood huffing in anger in front of an indifferent Berwald.
"Will you stop looking at me like that?" She cried, face and voice torn between either pulling her hair in frustration and throwing a tantrum or scratching the Swede's face and throwing him out of the nearest window - them being twenty some floors up from the ground be damned.
Berwald, like the true emotional turd that he was (really, what is with him? Matthia probably is the only one who could read him aside from Lukas - and then again, the Norwegian was a different matter since he only understood the tall nation due to them being in the same disposition. Hell, even Tino could barely read the Tall nation, and he was the Swede's so-called wife! And Emil... Well, Emil was another thing. The youngest Nordic just didn't care. Probably. The fuck does she know? She barely spoke with the kid...), only blinked at the woman. "What?"
"With those pitying eyes of yours! I don't need them - most certainly not from you!" The Danish country hissed, this time really tugging at the tail of her braid.
Berwald only scrunched his forehead slightly in...In... In something. Like she earlier stated, only the Nordics could read the other's expressions (barely). "Huh?"
Cue another anguished cry from the tall blond woman.
At this point, the rest of the world pretty much lost interest in the drama currently unfolding at the Nordic side of the meeting room. This evident when Alfred turned his attention back to his former caretaker with his arms crossed on his chest and an amused smile on his lips.
"Seriously Iggy, I thought we already talked about this magic of yours. Remember your New Year's party? The one where Jett started swinging on the crystal chandelier singing Sia's Chandelier in nothing but that creepy koala of his to cover his genitalia? I thought that would be enough for you to stop, but I should have known better."
From the other side of the room, a pained groan and a thud could be heard.
"I thought we agreed to never talk about that again," the Australian murmured, forehead pressed on his table. Beside him, his neighbor/brother/lover/frenemy patted his back in comfort but was laughing lightly.
"It's okay, you stupid Aussie. At least this time, Mum won't get angry when we call him that. Just imagine what our Uncles' reaction to this! Right, Mum?" James smiled at the British Empire.
Alice only snarled. "Don't you damned gits be getting any idea-AH! FRANCIS! HOW DARE YOU GROPE ME!" She hurriedly turned her back from the French nation (who she only noticed now), making sure those wondering hands were away from her ass, and the darkest and deadliest glare on her eyes - the one that was reserved solely for Francis.
She never really knew what everyone had against the man. Sure, the French nation was a bit handsy (okay, understatement) and was a certified pervert but he never really got anywhere pass harmless flirting (and groping). The man knew limits and where and when to draw the line. He would never force himself to anybody. She'd been with the French for a long time already, she would know, and if the other was really what people expected him to be, then the Prussian would have dropped him faster than a hot potato a long, long time ago.
He's only like that with Alice because he loved teasing the other. Not that Julchen could blame him; the Englishwoman was fun to tease. Very, very fun. (No pun intended. Okay, maaaybe. Slightly.)
The Frenchman only laughed that disturbing laugh of his. "Oh, I always knew the God's loved me. For why else would they bestow another gift for me?" He risked another last grope before hurriedly running away from the British Isle.
Both her and Alfred only watched with glee as the Englishwoman woman started running after the Frenchman with a snarled "YOU FROG!", the latter only continued to laugh that eerie laugh of his while he skipped around the room - like he wasn't running for his life and he and Alice were instead having a romantic run on the beach under the sunset.
"Mi Amiga!" The familiar happy Spanish made her grin and lean on her friend's body when Antonio threw an arm on her shoulder. "This is a surprise! Not an unwelcome one though. You look great!"
She laughed her signature laugh. "Of course I do! Why would you doubt the awesome me?" The Spaniard only laughed in response.
As expected, just behind the tanned man shadowed Lovino, but instead of the usual scowl on his adorable tomato face (all blame should fall on Antonio for that), the spunky Italian wore a conflicted expression. Beside him, Feliciano on the other hand, like always, held a completely opposite expression on his face and had unceremoniously glomped her, forcing the Spaniard's arm to leave her shoulder. Antonio didn't pay it any mind and had instead started to coo at the adorable Italian (but he would insist not as adorable as his Lovino later on when both Italy's were out of earshot. The Prussian begged to differ though).
"Ve, you're a really, really, really pretty bella Gilbert! Ludwig is so lucky to have you as an older sister." And like what the master lady charmer always did with the ladies he knew, the Northern Italian gave her a soft peck on her cheeks. A little surprised by the action, she only laughed it off and fondly patted the head of the affectionate young man.
"And you're cute as always, Feli! My little angel." She cooed and pinched both the Italian's cheeks lightly; knowing any harder and the other would start crying in pain. Feliciano beamed at her. "But!" She continued, prying carefully the other's arms around her. "You have to let go of me or else you'll squish Ludwig." She pointed to her still slumbering brother.
The North of Italy had hurriedly apologized at the tall log on her lap at that, almost at tears, despite the fact the German couldn't hear a word and wasn't even aware of the happenings.
She turned to the South and eldest of the Italy's who was still staring at her, the conflict not leaving his face. Both she and Antonio shared a quick look, the other also having no idea what the temperamental man had in mind. "Take a picture," she instead said, wigging both eyebrows suggestively, "it lasts longer."
She expected the other to burst into red, and then would hurriedly cover his embarrassment with tactless sentences more curses than actual words. Instead, Lovino's frown deepened.
"I don't know what to feel about this," he finally grumbled, glaring at the floor. "On the other hand, you're still the potato bastard's fratello. But you're now a female." And before anyone of them could react, he already left still frowning and grumbling.
She only blinked at where the older Italy had been. "What?"
It was Feli who answered her with that floaty smile of his. "Ve, don't mind fratello. He's just confused right now because he can't treat you like what he always do in the past since it's against his nature to treat women without respect." That made her grin.
"Sweet! Does that mean he'll go all Casanova on me?" The Italian laughed and nodded. This revelation though made Antonio pout and sulk.
"That's unfair!" He whined at her. "Lovi will start being nice and sweet to you! I'm jealous..."
She patted the other's back in sympathy and let him whimper pathetically on her shoulder. Feliciano also helped on comforting the man by patting the Spaniard's curly locks.
A loud bang yet again brought the world's attention to the Nordic table where Matthia walked out and a panicky Tino called after her, the rest of the Nordics watching her form apathetically.
Alice, who momentarily stopped running after Francis, sought her gaze and they silently agreed to check the Dane later on.
Well, much later on, she stared back down on his brother and brushed a strand of hair that had magically escaped the tight clutches of Ludwig's heavily gelled blond hair aside, after this potato kraut had woken up. It was a wonder how he hadn't woken up with the entire ruckus that happened. She guessed it had something to do with his body finally catching up with all those late nights or (God forbid hopefully it won't be because of this) he was so deep in denial he'd rather not wake up anytime soon.
Thank God this was the last day of the world meeting, the next one a few months later.
Edited by Dirkrito.
