Francois Bonnefoy || 2P!France
Allen F. Jones || 2P!America
Matthieu Williams || 2P!Canada
Oliver Kirkland || 2P!England
A crisp white envelope rested in his pale hands, a maniacal grin on his freckled face. With delicate precision, he hooked his finger in an open space between the flap and the main body, running the said finger under it until he felt the glued edge give way. He lifted the flap and stared at the lone paper resting inside its home. His bright blue eyes excitedly watched his hands take out the paper and open it, the words inside containing everything that he still needed. Information, the ones he was missing, was all there in the simple white paper.
"Very good, poppet~" he called cheerfully, his gaze leaving the thin substance and connecting with the intense gaze of the American in front of him. The latter rolled his eyes, scoffing lightly and averting his blood-red orbs from the hypnotizing stare of the Englishman. "Don't call me poppet Oliver. You know how much I hate that..." he reminded for the umpteenth time. The cheerful man just giggled in delight, ignoring the brunette's protest of his nickname.
"Besides..." the American continued, "...it wasn't that hard. It's just their relationships. It wasn't as hard as getting them in one place..." he explained, and the blonde nodded, leaving the piece of paper on the desk. With a bounce in his steps, he skipped over to the other guy and enveloped him in a warm, bone-crashing hug. "Thank you Allen, this is just what I needed!" the man named Oliver gratefully exclaimed, once again ignoring the American's embarrassment of his actions.
"Get the fuck off me, Oliver!" the man named Allen exclaimed, successfully pushing away the latter, who gazed at him angrily. He raised an eyebrow until he realized: he had swore in his presence again.
"Swear jar. Now!" Oliver exclaimed, and Allen stood up, grumbling and dropping a few coins in the almost-full jar. When he looked back, Oliver was back to his cheerful self. "We must call for Francois and Matthieu, yes we must!" he was chanting over and over again as he took out a black phone and dialed someone.
A few minutes passed, and after a few fights and shouting, the Frenchman and the Canadian arrived. Francois was in his usual state, an uninterested look plastered on his face, as well as a cigarette in between his pale lips. His dull purple eyes locked with Oliver's bright blue ones before he was tackled down in a hug. He sighed and boredly tried to push the excited cupcake-loving man off him.
"Darlin'! Did you miss me, huh?" Oliver cooed, nuzzling his cheek on Francois', not minding the smoke from his cigarette. The Frenchman ignored his question and successfully pried the Englishman off him.
Oliver pouted and made a move to hug Matthieu, but the latter raised his hockey stick, the end matted with what obviously looked like dried blood. Matthieu took off his sunglasses and perched it on top of his messy blonde hair, his slightly brighter purple eyes glaring down at Oliver.
"Don't you even think about it, you freak..." he mumbled, but the Englishman ignored his warning, and when he was busy stopping him, he had already been enveloped in one of his 'loving' hugs.
"I'm sure you missed me, poppet~" Oliver cooed, and Matthieu groaned loudly, squirming out of his grip.
"Dammit Oliver! I told you not to-" Matthieu started but was interrupted, again.
"SWEAR JAR!" Oliver shrieked dangerously, one hand gripping his precious butcher knife tightly and another pointing at the coin-filled jar. Allen shot his brother a smirk, and Matthieu glared at him, dropping a few more into the jar.
This was a usual chaos whenever the former family meets again after too long. However, that was only in Oliver's point-of-view. The last meeting they had was just a few hours ago, but for Oliver, it was still too long ago. He missed the days when they all lived together under the same roof, even though it always burned down every night. Literally.
Soon, they have settled down enough for everyone to be seated and listen to Oliver. The latter was more excited and cheerful than normal, and that would only mean that something evil that he had devised is coming into plan. Matthieu's eyes wandered over to his American brother, who stared right back.
"You know something about this, don't you?" he asked casually, which was surprising because most of their conversations involved insults.
Allen got over his shock and shot Matthieu a knowing smirk.
"Trust me bro, you'll love this~" he said mysteriously, earning him an eye-roll from his Canadian brother.
"Damned cocky bastard..." the latter grumbled under his breath. Unfortunately, this did not go unheard by Oliver and he shrieked again, glaring at Matthieu and pointing at the swear jar. Matthieu was forced to drop a few more coins in the swear jar.
As soon as he sat back down, Oliver stood up and grinned at them all, his hands on his hips.
"Listen up boys, for we're about to rule the world~"
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