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Post by Iceland on Jul 25, 2011 2:53:14 GMT -5
Eirík stood on the threshold of the mansion, a pathetic figure with his just little duffel bag in hand. A shirt-sleeve trailed out forlornly through a gap. He had been rushed trying to get his things together and get over here... He leaned his forehead against the door, feeling small and cowardly. He made no move to knock, ring the doorbell, or give any hint as to his presence. Nothing in the world was going to get him through this door. Nothing. They didn't know he had arrived, maybe he could turn round right now and... swim home. Yes, across the Atlantic. He could do it... And if he couldn't, drowning was still preferable to going in there and trying to socialize with the other nations. Especially the European ones. Although the others will have heard, and will be sure to shove it in his face. Really, it wasn't a question of if he was going to be hazed, but to what degree.
Because how the hell else did it look?! His grip tightened on the strap of his duffel, eyes hard as amethysts. For years Geir Haarde had said over and over and over again, loudly, vocally, consistently... "No, we are not joining the European Union. We are not even considering joining. We are not exploring this idea at all. Absolutely not." The PM said Iceland didn't need it, they were already part of the European Free Trade Area, which got them into the EU's European Economic Area, and that was enough. Through the EEA, Iceland had access to a bunch of EU programs, they participated in peacekeeping missions, they aligned themselves to EU foreign policy... They were practically part of the EU already, they could have just applied and made it official. But the country had stood by a conviction of "this far and no further." Geir had stood fast by that and asserted that no current Icelandic interest demanded membership and it would not help Iceland to adopt the Euro.
...And then the economy crashed. The krona plummeted. And then suddenly the Euro seemed like a good idea. Eirík knocked his head against the door, slowly and repeatedly, his face burning with humiliation at the oh-so-convenient face-turn. Jóhanna Sigurðardóttir, Geir's replacement, had set about applying to the EU as soon as possible. He didn't know where she found the leverage, being so new, but she had also wrangled him an invitation to this, this... He leaned to the side and peered through a window, trying to guess at the ominous shapes moving about within. He almost thought one saw him, and quickly pulled back with a sigh. This disaster waiting to happen. (Word around the water cooler claimed the only reason they let his broke, sorry ass take part was Ireland had backed out and it was easier to change an R to a C on the information packet than to, say, Kyrgyzstan. Eirík really hoped that wasn't the reason... The only reason...)
"Eirík, come on. It's not hard. Be friendly. Don't be so stiff. Try to be involved. Don't be so quiet. But don't blow anyone's head off. Get close to the others, we need their support. Even if they're not in the EU, chances are that they are allied to someone who is. This is important, you understand?"[/i] Jóhanna uncrossed her arms and sighed, looking the taciturn teenager over. "Not exactly the champion for our cause that I'd have hoped, but you are the one to do it. You can and you will."[/i] Then she had clapped him on the shoulder and sent him off to America and that was that. A taxi was arranged to haul and dump him, then sped off without looking back. Eirík had moved up the steps on auto-pilot, but then realized what he was about to relegate himself to and found he couldn't move a muscle.
"I am going to look like the biggest idiot on the face of the earth," Eirík informed the solid wooden door holding him up. "Keeping my distance when it pleases me, then crawling back and saying I want to participate when I'm in trouble... So weak..." Thoroughly disgusted with himself, wondering how his much-vaunted Viking blood had become so diluted over the centuries, he lifted a hand curled weakly into a fist and knocked twice.
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Post by Greece on Jul 30, 2011 2:10:17 GMT -5
He had dozed off on the couch not wanting to travel up the staircase again to the room he was supposedly supposed to be sharing with a certain Icelandic nation. He himself had only arrived a few hours before, belongings in a travel bag that included a few sets of clothing and the other few necessities. He had been barred from bringing his beloved cats for reasons he couldn’t quite comprehend and that had been his last question to his boss before being shoved onto a plane. Heracles had spent a good amount of time in his boss’ office hearing the man go on and on about how this could improve his current standings with the other nations. The economic crisis was far from over but they had managed to seal the deal for the “rescue plan”. This had of course caused a bit of strain between the other countries who were aiding him with the money crisis. People were still protesting in the streets though…. So of course, this current turn of events hadn’t even been planned. Before he knew it his boss was waking him up from his nap on the steps of the Parthenon with a phone call. He had told him it was urgent that he met him in his office and Heracles had assumed that it had something to do about the debt crisis again as it had for the last few months. He had been so much more tired than he usually was with all the running around. When he had made it to his boss’s office, he was presented with his travel bag and a plane ticket to the US. Dumbfounded, Heracles had simply nodded as his boss explained the situation—and that was when he asked about his cats.
The reason he was even here was because Kiku had apparently been unable to come at the last minute and for some strange reason he was the next to be offered for this…thing. He wasn’t even sure what it was being called. Last he recalled was that it was some sort of test to make all the nations closer or something. Heracles didn’t care too much about that though. He was simply glad that he was away from his boss for however long he would be here—even if he wasn’t with his cats that he missed dearly at the moment. Sure he had his phone but he never used it anyway unless it was to call up his boss or on the very rare occasion annoy the hell out of Turkey. The item was somewhere upstairs on the top bunk of the bunk bed in his shared room. Speaking of sharing rooms, he hadn’t seen Iceland yet. Eirik had been nowhere in sight when he arrived and though he was curious as to the whereabouts of the nation he had not asked anyone about him. It wasn’t that big a deal anyway. He would probably show up late no doubt. Greece was just glad he hadn’t been paired up with anyone he didn’t like. Despite the little communication between him and the Icelandic nation, Heracles didn’t have any problems with him and therefore it made their rooming together very simple. At least, he hoped so.
The knock at the front door pulled him from his light doze and made his green eyes towards the source. Staying in his place on the couch for several moments, he waited to see if anyone else was going to get it but no one came. Heaving a sigh, the lazy nation lifted himself up from the couch. Slowly he walked towards the door, once again looking about for someone else to perhaps save him the trouble of doing it himself. Finally he reached the door and reached out to unlock it. Upon opening it he was met with the sight of the very person he had been wondering about earlier. He blinked, once, twice and then finally stepped aside to allow the other nation in. “Hello…Iceland…”
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Post by Iceland on Aug 2, 2011 0:00:53 GMT -5
Eirík shifted from foot to foot on the porch. Not too late to swim home... No. He shook his head, his bangs flopping over his face. Now he wished he had thought to get a hair-cut. But there had barely been time for him to rush home, throw a few things into a duffel bag, and still make the plane. Hair-cuts had not been on the agenda. Eirík glanced down at his attire and the sorry-looking duffel bag and tried to fix himself up a bit. He shoved the errant shirt-sleeve back into the bag and zipped the thing up completely. There was little he could do about his appearance. He tugged at his ivory shirt (wrinkled from the long plane ride) and raked his fingers through the messy light-colored locks masquerading as a hairstyle. He sighed, frustrated. There was nothing he could do, and who really cared about these things anyway? If they wanted him looking presentable then they could wait until he settled into his room, they should damn well know better than to expect him to be as fresh as a daisy after a seven hour plane ride and a two-hour drive- He didn't even know where the hell he was, somewhere in America, yeah that was comforting-
The door had opened. Jolted from his mental tirade, Eirík blinked and turned red. He had probably looked like an idiot, glaring at nothing. Best of all, in front of the person he'd be bunking with for the duration of this extravaganza... Iceland blinked again when Greece did. Did he have the wrong place...? No, of course not, because this one had nations in it, of course. But why didn't he say something?! Eirík waited for acknowledgment, feeling himself turning red as he gave stare for stare.
"Hello… Iceland…”
"Uh, hullo..." Eirík ducked his head in a nod and quickly slipped past. He paused at the foot of the staircase and turned around. "Thank you, Greece." He hesitated, fidgeting, then went on. "I guess we're in the same room, huh... You've already settled in?" He had only glanced at the house layout on the way over, zeroing in on who he was rooming with. He probably wouldn't interact with the others anyway... Not if he could help it... A memory surfaced. "Be friendly! Be involved!" Oh, right. Andskottin.
Eirík looked around, taking in the entry hall and what he could see of the living room, feeling less sure of himself. What in the world he was doing here... What he was he even supposed to do... Sure, socialize, "make friends," all that crap, but that didn't explain the mundane day-to-day tasks and expectations... This was the problem with being an island out in the middle of nowhere. You're so disconnected from everyone that you don't know what the hell is going on with the rest of the world, and then one day you're uprooted and planted in the middle of it all with no warning and you don't know anything or anyone and life sucks and- He was glaring at nothing again. He lifted a hand and tried to rub the facial expression away. His brothers always teased him that his face would stick like that someday. He probably already looked like a troll, and glowered at the thought. (The irony of this did not strike him.)
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Post by Greece on Aug 26, 2011 23:36:03 GMT -5
He didn’t realize that he was making the Icelandic nation uncomfortable in the slightest upon opening the door. It didn’t occur to him that perhaps he had stared a little too long before reminding himself he had to greet the other. Heracles closed the door behind him once Iceland had entered, locking it as it had been before. When he turned around the other male was already at the foot of the steps probably on his way upstairs to get settled in. Heracles hadn’t bothered to set up his things. He had only dropped his luggage onto the bottom bunk and left it there. He had been too tired to do anything else. He had realized of course that putting the suitcase on the bed had probably been a dumb idea if he was intending to sleep but couldn’t be bothered to move. So, instead of taking his things out and getting himself comfortable for however long he was supposed to stay here, Heracles had traveled back down to the first floor and taken up a position on the couch. In retrospect, that was more work than actually just moving the luggage to the floor but what was done had been done. Besides, he had been too busy thinking about finishing the book he had been reading on the plane (The Iliad). Ultimately though he had dozed off on the couch which was why he was now standing in the middle of the hallway gazing at Iceland. “You’re welcome.” He responded after a paused and then, “We are… no, not really…”
He leisurely made his way towards the other nation before speaking again. “Perhaps I can…help then.” Might as well get this out of the way now then wait later. Besides, what better time to go fix up his things than with company? Heracles hated doing most work so it was always easier if he had someone else around with him. That wasn’t to say he made much conversation but it gave him more to think about than what he was doing. He realized that he didn’t know much of what was going on with the other nation (not that he usually did even when he wasn’t busy) and so when he noticed the expression on the other’s face he was curious. Greece rarely had any reason to make such an expression (unless he was around Turkey). The sleepy nation was usually quite calm and laid back. Getting upset over things was simply took too much energy. He had spent a lot of his younger years being upset over one thing or another and it had been far too much effort. It helped that there weren’t any military crises of course only a particularly bad economic one. Thinking about that would make him depressed though so he focused on Iceland instead. “Is…there…something wrong?” He queried, the question less out of concern than out of curiosity. Really no one should look so sour unless there was something seriously wrong and in Greece’s expert opinion things were quite well at the moment. Well, so long as he didn’t have to do much of anything. Manual labor and Heracles didn’t work well at all.
The Greek slid past the Icelandic nation and up the steps just ahead of the other. They all had a layout of the house, he knew, and so leading the way wasn’t really necessary. That wasn’t really what he was doing anyway. He just figured he could hold the door open for Iceland since he was the one with luggage (forbid Heracles to actually ask if he needed help with those—it had already been such a hassle when he had his own). At the top landing he made a left and nudged open the door to the closest room. He held it for a moment to allow the other nation inside as well before heading over to the bunk beds and dropping onto the bottom one. He knew he was supposed to be unpacking but he didn’t want to know that he was here. He was on a bed for goodness sake, how was he supposed to think about actually getting up to do anything? “Oh…did your boss…spring this on you…too?” Heracles blinked, the question coming up in his head randomly because even though he didn’t mind the silence he wasn’t so sure everyone else did. Might as well attempt having a conversation instead of just spacing out.
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Post by Iceland on Sept 10, 2011 14:45:05 GMT -5
Standing in the brightly-lit hallway and blinking at the obviously-drowsy nation, Eirik wondered if Heracles was about to fall asleep on him. He might not even fall to the floor, just stay standing, completely asleep... bored into a stupor by his new roommate... Eirik mentally shrugged, trying not looking too deep into it. Maybe the Greek was jet-lagged. Eirik could relate; Iceland was over five hours ahead. He'd probably be feeling quite tired himself once the adrenaline of traveling wore off.
Eirik nodded in acceptance of Greece's offer, just a quick dip of his head. "Sure. Thank you."
The nation took a step forward, ready to climb the stairs, but noticed that the other had yet to do the same, and didn't look as if he intended to move any time soon. Looking over his shoulder, Eirik found he was once again under Grecian scrutiny. He halted, staring back in dour befuddlement. He wasn't used to being stared at... Or looked at, period. He lived alone and preferred solitutude; it just didn't happen. Living with over a dozen other nations would be full of fun new experiences it seemed, he thought with trepidation. As the staring match stretched on, he felt his face begin to flush with embarrassment, feeling awkward. He scowled at the culprit.
Finally, Heracles spoke. “Is… there… something wrong?”
Eirik's frown deepened in confusion. He was going to ask that himself... "Why do you keep staring?" "Why do you look like you're about to fall asleep?" Eirik clamped down on the urge to ask such rude questions. He wanted to get along with his roommate. He would probably be hiding in their room rather than interact with the others, he didn't want to have to avoid his roommate... That would be childish.
Eirik dropped his head, blushing, and gave a noncommittal shrug. "No, nothing's wrong..." He self-consciously rubbed the arm carrying the bag, trying to come up with a normal-sounding remark. "Er, I guess I'm a little tired from the trip... Or something..." He started out speaking clearly, but as usualy his voice had dropped to a mumble by the end of his sentence. It was easier when he was alone, nothing to remind him how painfully awkward his interactions with others were.
He was relieved when Heracles took the lead up the stairs and he could trail behind without having to worry about his flushed face. His lame explanation seemed to have been satisfactory. Or at least permissible. Oh, who knows... By the time they reached the room, Eirik was happy to be able to set his luggage down. He trudged past Heracles with a mumbled thanks for holding the door open. His bag wasn't too burdensome, just one duffel after all, but it was an annoyance he was now freed of. He dumped the contents in a couple drawers of the dresser and tossed the empty bag into the otherwise-empty closet. Looking around, he spotted Heracles reclining on the bottom bunk next to his untouched bag. Eirik figured he'd unpack later. Or not. Who knows? Greece could do as he pleased.
“Oh…did your boss…spring this on you…too?”
"Yours did too?" Eirik blurted out. "I was only told this morning..." He colored, not mentioning that the only reason Jóhanna didn't tell him earlier was because she knew he'd barricade himself in his room and refuse to come out. He'd done it before on many an occasion. He had his computer, video games, books, licorice, and a window to let Puffin in. He wouldn't need to come out for days. Eirik felt a pang, missing his best friend. Jóhanna had been very clear: No Pets. "He's not a pet, he's my friend,"[/i] Eirik had argued. Jóhanna had absolutely refused. He was not allowed to bring animals, and he was doubly not allowed to bring Puffin, who was incorrigible at the best of times.
"Could barely get my things together before I was pushed onto a plane... My boss is pushy... Um, when did you arrive?" he inquired, curious. "You seem tired. Are you jet-lagged?"
A million bazillion apologies. ;__; iactuallydidn'tseeyourpost. I didn't expect one because I thought you were still having computer problems. I'm sorry!! m(_ _)m
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