A Crimson Epidemic [Event]

[china]

The Cold War
World Conference: 1976

**NOTES: At the end of this post, you might want to read them first!~**

“If you know the enemy, and know yourself
You need not fear the result of a hundred battles;
If you know yourself, but not the enemy
For every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat;
If you know neither the enemy or yourself,
Then you will succumb to every battle.”
-- The Art of War, Sabaton (Intro)

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It was far too cold for a spring morning; the wind was chilled, carrying a draft from the east as it blew grey clouds in the direct path of the impending sunlight. The day look meek, if not completely dreary from the inside of this cubicle—one in which Wang Yao assumed he would not see the outside of for at least twelve hours. He had been among the first to arrive, and was the first at the window. Glancing outwards from the stained glass before he was required to sit among the other nations that had placed their word in being present at the world meeting. The climate outside was a perfect representation of the tensions between every one of them; this dark, cold grey space that couldn't be wiped away despite their efforts to find do so. Finding allies in such a time required the utmost care, if not trust—he had abandoned the USSR on such an unstable playing field. He assumed that China would not be the only country to do so. Despite Wang Yao’s feelings on the issue, it had been done, and he highly doubted that the meeting would fly as smoothly as his flight. Everyone seemed on edge, and Yao could not blame them for being more then ready to jump at one another’s throats.

Still, no one had taken up arms; unless you counted Vietnam or Korea—he winced openly at the recollection of both prior wars. Just recently, Vietnam had finally found herself under the control of communism, despite how he personally regretted it had come about. Glancing at his watch, the Asian nation flicked his wrist and moved his opposite hand to fix the cold metal properly. The minutes were ticking down, and at any second the room would be bustling with noise of bickering nations. He could already guess who was going to be the loudest, and those that were simply there to sit back and watch history unfold. Whether or not it was in favor of their own personal means. Feeling the tense-aura already in the air, Yao struggled to keep his shoulders from knotting up as he stiffened instinctively. He no longer was a part of the Cold War, although he was communist—and had no interest in changing. Then, why had he even bothered to come? Minus the push Mao Zedong* had given him prior to his scheduled airline appointment.

This all depended on two nations, despite how any others decided to influence them and their abolished outcome. At times like these, Yao constantly wondered if the Sino-Soviet Split had been the best route for China. His government was on wobbly legs, but he had been more then certain with his new form of communism that his people would finally settle. The record of their overall panic had been well placed; before Ivan’s interference with his choices, Yao had not been certain what to do. No one else had lent China their aid, nor any sort of political hand. Waiting for him to fall was the next option. Truthfully, the human side of him—the part that viewed Ivan as his comrade still, regretted how things had turned out.

Be that as it was, he still had his government to support. Backing up China’s choice came second, if not third to what the meeting would address for the future of his country. Earlier in the year, his scientific research facilities had acquired not only the atomic bomb; but also the H-bomb. There was the matter of warfare to address, even if it had not escalated to such a point—yet. He’d assumed as much that the other nations had not had their normal happy experiences dealing with the Iron Curtain or the USSR in general. To his knowledge, Ivan was too busy to actually appear at the summit; it put more pressure on him, in retrospect. He would be one of the only communist powers present at the meeting, and as such—probably under fire. Anything painted red was an enemy to America and his allies; be as opaque and close-minded as that made the world seem. He was in no position to threaten anyone, even if he wished to show some of these dense democratic nations that communism wasn’t some sort of incurable disease.

Turning over his wrist to glance at his watch one last time, he frowned softly and began to walk to his seat. Fingers dancing over the metal with some form of nervous nostalgia, his dark eyes continued to take quick glances towards the doors. If anyone had made their way inside, he had not noticed their presence yet. Holding the circular face of the device; Yao counted down by the second, as if expecting feet to follow the soft ticking on his wrist. His eyelids lowered, feeling the same feeling of uneasiness fill the room once more. This time, however, it could not be blamed on the towering Russian who ‘stayed firmly behind his Iron Curtain.’ This is foolish, I don’t think this is an act of cowardice on anyone’s part. Ivan can’t be here, but they should view that as more of a threat—shouldn’t they? Despite how cautious he was internally, Yao couldn’t fight down his curiosity on how the Westerners would take such information. Surely they knew what their neighbor to the east was up to, but—what did it imply for the actions in their future?

Glancing to his left, he felt his shoulders sink as he heard the soft patter of rain hitting the veil of the window he had been at earlier. Finally, the elder East Asian country was able to fully allow himself this moment of peace. Closing his eyes fully, he repeated the points he wanted to make on China’s behalf. In the beginning, he had not been allowed in the conferences; possibly due to his weakness as a country after World War II. Assuming he was only allowed in for his information on the USSR (and being his neighbor) Yao made an internal promise not to say anything against Ivan. He had given up his stature within this war, but he would not step as far as betray the man who had aided in getting him back on his feet. Opinionated, perhaps; biased—most certainly.

He didn’t assume the outcome of the meeting, but he could feel in his old(er) bones that something was going to be said about either the USSR in general, or the quick development over nuclear weapons. China had not been testing too frequently, but the treaty he had signed with America (hadn’t he been over not too long ago--?) limited his choices on firing, but not development. There were always loopholes, and yet Wang Yao was a man of his word. He would follow through with what he had offered, despite how much he didn’t wish to—Yao could count on his one hand how many times any western nation had kept their promises to him. Not many. It was expected.

Well then, it seems that most of them will be appearing any minute. Physically, I am ready for this. Mentally—I don’t know. This is the first time I've ever spoken in any sort of conference. I can't let any sort of vulnerability show. Crossing his hands over his chest, the Asian still felt awkward wearing something so formal like a suit. Something so—western, even though it was considered more professional. He felt more like a business man then his old self; what was more frightening was that he found that he actually enjoyed it. The authority he felt; with his hair neatly tied back—and tailored suit in place, it was as if he was unmistakably here. He hoped the westerners brought their A-game, because this would be one step into asserting an Eastern sphere of influence on this new ‘modern’ period.

NOTES:
(( 1976– Chosen due to the circumstances that Ivan isn’t going to show up to this conference, due to being swamped~ historical reason? At this point, the USSR was “aiding Cuban forces help to install Communist government in Angola.” Also, Egypt had begun to ask for Soviet Aid in invading Israel, so Ivan would be too busy for this.
**Please, please, please if any of you have an issue with the date, PM me and we can figure out some way to change it. I’m open to swapping it around if it doesn’t fit your timeline!~
-Vietnam & Korean Wars have ended. Korea remains stalemate (split) and Vietnam (North/Communist) has triumphed over the South.
-SALT I has already been signed in 1972, SALT is short for: Strategic Arms Limitation Talks Agreement, also known as Strategic Arms Limitation Treaty. SALT I froze the number of strategic ballistic missile launchers at all existing levels.

China-Related Notes ;;
-China has actually broken its pact with the USSR, and does not support them in the Cold War. The Sino-Soviet split happened in 1961.
-Richard Nixon (in 1972 before his resign) has already visited China.
* = Mao Zedong - Leader of the communist party in China
-China has NOT established diplomatic relations with the US, but is getting there …(1979)
-Will be supporting the COMMUNISTS, even if he is not one of the USSR’s allies.
-China was originally not allowed in any G8 or Cold War meetings.))

China ( Threadstarter/1st )
Belarus (2nd)
Canada (3rd)
America (4th)
England (5th)
North Korea (6th)
Click Here! ←OOC Plot Page

[avio]

It was obvious that Natalia was immensely displeased with her current situation. Her eyes were glaring out the window of the car making its way to the world conference building, and her lips were in a deep, protruding pout. On her lap sat her near-empty briefcase (it only contained pens, paper and a few notes, in case something was actually accomplished at the meeting), her hands gripping the handles tightly, as if she were trying to rip it off. The weather was cold and bitter, contrary to it being Spring, but this wasn’t what was bothering her at all in the least; she was used to far worse, especially living with her brother.

Her brother. Vanya…

No, it certainly wasn’t the weather, but her precious older brother. That’s what was bothering her. Not only did she have to attend the meeting without him, but she had also had to bear his extended absence as he attended to business in Cuba and Egypt as well. She certainly hadn’t taken the news well at all when it was given to her after he left. Many times since, she had taken up packing to leave and join him. She’d thrown a violent fit when she found out she had to attend the world meeting on this day, saying she would much rather have preferred going to join her brother (the only reason she had ever really gone to them in the first place was because she could sit beside him and stare down anybody who got too close). In the end, however, she had been calmed down and reminded that it was important that she go, as a representative of the Soviet Union. Didn’t she want to make him proud?

A stupid question, really. Of course I wish to make him proud. It is only fitting that a man be proud of his wife, and that she deserves such pride. I will represent our family, just for him. Perhaps he will come home sooner. She gave a sigh, the breath seeping through her lips and fogging up the window before her. Perhaps, then, we could be married.

This was her sole motivation to even get out of the car, smoothe over her dress (she had to, of course, look presentable), and enter the building, briefcase in hand. She would do her absolute best, just for him.

The rain began just as she was closing the door behind herself, and she dully noted her luck as she made her way to the meeting room, silently hoping nobody would be there yet. She didn’t want to deal with any other nations quite yet; the meeting itself was already too much time in their presence (and not her brother’s) in her opinion.

This hoping, however, was in vain, which she discovered as soon as she opened the door. Already, annoyance began to spin its way inside her just at the sight of another form, but as soon as she registered that it was Yao, her slight annoyance became pure anger. She stopped in the doorway, dropping the briefcase, eyes narrowing and lips curling up into a snarl. Of all the people to be here, it could have been anyone, it had to be him! She could have forced herself to be tolerant with anyone, but Yao? Door slamming behind her, she began to stalk towards him, her hands already reaching for a knife as she moved closer, shoving any obstacles (such as the chairs around the table) out of her way violently.

A whirl of curses and foul language thrashed about in her mind, and her lips were open as she tried to decide which ones to yell at him first, which words could possibly be foul enough for such a traitor, but none came, much to her surprise. Instead, a different thought occurred to her, making her pause.

I was told to behave myself and not to embarrass the Union… This thought completely stopped her assault-to-be, just a few feet away from the man, her knife gleaming dangerously in her hand. She didn’t want to upset or disappoint her brother or their family, but surely, because it was Yao, it would be okay? Still, she didn’t want to risk getting on her brother’s bad side--

that would be bad, so, so bad, no, I do not wish to do that, I want to make him proud, not upset

--and she regrettably put the knife away, turning on her heel to head toward her seat, stopping first by the door to grab her (regardless how unnecessary) briefcase. The meeting would be starting soon, anyways, and it probably would not have been good to be found assaulting him. That sort of thing was not exactly looked upon with a smile. No matter how badly the bastard deserves it.

This being said, she still didn’t feel he should get away with it, so she spoke to him, eyes boring into him. “I am surprised you would even show your face, Yao,” her voice was cold and sharp, punctuated by her snarl, “leaving the Soviet Union as you have.” She was sitting up straight, setting the briefcase before her and opening it slowly and carefully, as if stalling for the sake of having something to do. “You certainly don’t look comfortable, either. Left your dress at home, I see?” Mockery slipped into her tone as she gave a slight smirk, taking in the suit he wore with a sliver of amusement.

Bitter anger still boiled inside her, and the urge to grab a knife and throw it at him was strong, but she did her best to keep calm. For Vanya’s sake, she thought, trying to keep a controlled grip on herself. Would not wish to disappoint him by embarrassing yourself here at the meeting. Behave yourself.

So she decided she would stick with verbal assault for now. Keep it mild, at least until after the meeting. Then, perhaps, it would not be such a bad idea to have a talk with him. The idea appeased her anger, and it cooled down just a little bit.

Now, if she could only carry on throughout the entire meeting this well, and everything would be just fine.

__
_{Since not much was really going on in Belarus around this time, she’s going to be representing the Soviet Union and harassing China for breaking off their alliance.}

[canada]

The car ride to the conference building was quiet and almost peaceful. Still Canada couldn’t get any peace of mind. Matthew stared at the grey sky through the car window. It was oddly fitting for the situation that was going to be discussed today.

Matthew played with the button on the cuff of his sleeve. The formal clothing wasn’t something he enjoyed to wear, he never felt quite comfortable in formal wear. It made him feel stiff and restricted. But at a meeting like this he could hardly show up in casual clothing.

He was a bit nervous to how the meeting would go. He tried to push his insecurities to the back of his mind, however. He wasn’t even one of the main players in this war. Matthew did wish to discuss things and have a somewhat successful meeting (as far as that was possible). Though with his luck he would just go ignored again for the duration of the meeting.

As the car stopped in front of the conference building, Matthew inwardly cursed as he noted it had started to rain. He ran the small distance towards the cover of the building. Inside he straightened his suit and ran a hand through his hair and wiped some droplets off his glasses to make sure he looked presentable.

He walked through the quiet hallways, his footsteps echoing slightly on the wooden floor, towards the meeting room. He wondered if someone was there already. A look at his watch told him this was most likely the case. He was only a bit early, so there was a good chance others had already arrived. Despite this he somewhat hoped he would be the first one to enter the room.

As soon as he approached the meeting room he knew he wasn’t going to be the first one. The reason he knew this was because he heard a loud stumbling inside. He paused slightly in his steps as he asked himself what could be going on inside. ‘Nothing good’, was the answer. So the next moment he sped towards the door. After a deep breath Matthew pushed the door open.

As soon as he stepped inside he could feel the thick tension hanging in the room. The first thing he noticed were the chairs on the floor; most likely the cause of the stumbling he had heard. He spotted the two other nations in the room, China and Belarus. Natalia had a knife in her hand, looking like she was going to use it any moment now. You’d have to be crazy if the glare she was giving Yao didn’t scare you. Matthew was thankful it wasn’t directed towards himself.

Luckily Natalia got herself under control and retreated to her seat. It would be a bad thing if they would start fighting right here and now. A very bad thing. The last thing they needed was something to trigger a nuclear war. That would be nothing less than disastrous, with the amount of nuclear weaponry stationed in certain countries; even some within his own borders.

Even though Natalia refrained from a physical assault on Yao, the words she directed at the man were far from friendly.

Canada, still standing at the door, watching the scene unfold, felt like he should make his presence known. He finally closed the door behind him and coughed slightly. “Good morning.” He nodded at the other nations. He walked to his chair, which Natalia had kicked over during her almost-assault on Yao, and put it back on its feet.

He gave Yao a slightly sympathetic look. Canada was pursuing diplomatic relations with the Chinese; something his brother wasn’t all that pleased with. It wasn’t to encourage Communism, however. It was more to be able to influence Communism through international relationships. Constructive engagement, that’s what his boss called it.

Matthew sat down and placed his own briefcase on the table, retrieving the necessities for the meeting. In a lot of meetings there wasn’t anything useful that got done, but the Canadian liked to be prepared. So if there were some important decisions made, he would have something to write it down on. Knowing Matthew, he would be taking notes anyway, whether it was useful or not. Just in case.

[usa]

God bless us everyone
We're a broken people living under loaded gun
And it can't be outfought
It can't be outdone
It can't be outmatched
It can't be outrun

      Dammit.

     First, a meeting with China's leader a few years prior. Korea. Then the disaster that was Vietnam had ended just last year. Now this...

     If he had to see the bastard China's face again, it'd be too soon. Knowing his luck, he would anyway. Life liked to nip him in the ass as of late, and quite frankly he was just about to snap and bite right back like a dog that was sick of being hit over the head. Alfred was never a patient lad either, which perhaps did not help matters at all. Drumming his fingers against his lap as he looked out of the window of his vehicle he made not a sound as the drive was quite rough. The sky was bleak and gray, much like his increasingly souring mood. He did not want to be in a room full of Red bastards. Even if it was just a few, no. Not ever. But alas he couldn't always get his way, and therefore he was subjected to this, only to deal with it as if it was some cruel punishment for some kind of crime he didn't know he committed. Deep in his heart he knew what he had did, and dammit, he was proud of it. He had taken the world's stage, and quite frankly he wasn't about to let the color of Red spread through the rest of the world, especially not to his own land.

     Were they simply trying to test America, as if his government was weak and inferior to their Communist form? The Cuban Missile Crisis was perhaps proof of that, but dear president Kennedy had made sure that such did not escalate. In the end, he wasn't sure, but at the same time he did not care. They were his enemies, and they were going to be treated like it. So many people were under the color of Red and yet America was not intimidated. Yet at the same time, he was. Fearful that such a vile form of government would convert his own people. It seemed so easy to do, and perhaps that was the main thing he was scared of. What if his allied soon succumbed to the Red Plague? Well, his federal government had made sure that such did not start within the states. They had ruined so many lives, stilled fear in the hearts of millions, all in the name of democracy. Silencing everyone from speaking their opinions as if there was no such thing as the First Amendment. In a way, Alfred had become sick of that nonsense. From the HUAC to McCarthy, everyone was taking advantage of this and just... climbing their way to power. It was wearing him out much more than it ever should. Just sick of it. He knew it was for the wellbeing of everyone and the federation... but...

     As the car stopped rain began to fall, rapping against the car. How fitting. How eerily fitting. With a soft sigh he warped his fingers around the handle of the brief case that contained sheets of paper accompanied by a handgun that had about three rounds, tightening as he already felt himself ready to swing it at someone. Maybe today would be the day he would and not regret lopping someone's head off for a change. He was tired, no doubt as evident from the blue eyes that were lacking the glow they usual held and the wild hair that was usually more tame. It had been a while since he had a normal day's sleep. Maybe 10 years since, and everyday he felt himself growing more strained. There was more to his problems then just Communists. Over the years he's had to deal with civil rights movements, anti-war protests, funding space programs, dealing with his allies, tragic assassinations, scandles. Sometimes he felt like the cold war was the least of his problems. Sometimes.

     Shutting the door he flipped his briefcase over his head to perhaps save some of him from being drenched in the rain. The Red disease spread like water being soaked up by dry cloth. It was disgusting. He scowled slightly as he quickly made himself to the door, finding himself rather taken back by the silence. Though soon he heard some ruckus from down the hall. It was then he felt that this was perhaps going to be the same old same old. That and it seemed that he was running a tad late. Like he gave a fuck at the point. The Commies could wait.

     Walking down and opening the door he noticed overturned chairs and a very angry Belarus, his brother (who he was severely angry with) and.... that bastard Yao. Seething with anger Alfred tightened the grip on his briefcase and tensed with his countenance remaining rather neutral, though behind closed lips he was gritting his teeth, swearing he would break them if he tightened anymore. And while his brother greeted the polite way, America simply avoided looking any of them in the eye, lifting an overturned seat and sitting upon it while throwing is legs on the table and crossing them as if he was king of the room. Oh they could have the balls to speak against him, but he didn't need words to prove a point. Oh no, he had weapons. He had enough nuclear weaponry to obliterate the world many times over. Despite it all, he didn't feel as if he had enough heart to really use such power. He had done it to Japan at the end of World War II, but, matters were different back then. It felt like he avenged his people, and yet he still regretted doing that. At least he had the title of being the one to drop it, and so no one really tried to contest with him after, except for obviously the Soviet Union. Bastards.

     He laid the brief case under his crossed legs and he folded his fingers together and laid them on his lap, waiting for the others to come in. In the mean time with half-lidded eyes he looked over everyone carefully, watching their motions in case any one of them became remotely hostile (except for Belarus, she kind of just always seemed that way). Paranoid was one way to describe it. Paranoid that something might happen and he wouldn't be able to stop it, Through this whole conflict he was paranoid, sick in the head, swearing old instability was making it's way through again with his mind. Such a mess and inner turmoil he felt as if he was reliving the events leading up to the Civil War. No, he was not hearing voices or trying to destroy himself, but rather he felt as if there was just this drive to fight. To just fight. Whether it was in the name of Liberty or not, it was there. To just be aggravated and lash out. But all the same, he needed to avoid that. Avoid direct contact with Russia, else the worst might happen to both of their people. In an odd silence he simply looked at everyone, as if the world was out to get him, because he sure as hell knew half of it wanted him dead.

     Though despite his current disappointment with his brother, he was sure Canada was the only one here at the moment would side with him, even when he was going out of his way to mingle with the enemy. He didn't care what his boss called it, but it was the fact he was making an effort. America wasn't thrilled Nixon had met with China's leader earlier in the decade, but whatever. Anything to perhaps calm these tensions that were eating away at his nerves. Avoiding looking at the two others he looked at his brother, almost staring, before opening his mouth to say something. He shut his mouth figuring he should just stay silent for the rest of the time until more people flowed in. Stress was a bitch.

God save us everyone
Will we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns
For the sins of our hands
The sins of our tongues
The sins of our fathers
The sins of our young

---

• In 1972, president Nixon visited Mao Zedong to normalize relations, even though... we didn't like them.
  
• HUAC- The House Committee on Un-American Activities (1938–1975) was an investigative committee of the House of Representatives. They cracked down on people who were accused or believed to be communist and put them on a blacklist. over 300 people made it to this blacklist and from then on their lives were forever ruined as they could never really work anywhere again. People you wouldn't believe were on this blacklist, such as Marilyn Monroe (the fu--), Charlie Chaplin, and many others. You know it's bad when Marilyn Monroe is accused of being communist. comeonguyssrsly.
  
• McCarthy & McCarthyism- McCarthyism comes from the name Joseph McCarthy, US senator during the 1950s. His undocumented accusations of possible communists within the federal government gave way to his rise to power and the movement that became known as McCarthyism (though the term now has come to mean reckless accusation). During his reign of terror, he scared people into burning all media associated with communism or dealing with "un-American" subjects. Books such as Fahrenheit 451 and many others were burned, and many authors, producers, and the like lost their livelihoods because of him. His decline was in 1954 when he began accusing people in the US Army of being communist and was eventually censured. He died 3 years later.
  
• "Tragic assassinations"- namely the assassinations of president John F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr.
  
• "scandals"- namely Watergate.
  
• TD;LR I AM SORRY actually my post is around the same length as China's BUT STILL MAN. ;_;
  

[albion]

He hated this. He hated everything about this damn war and yet there was now he could do about it. It was a pity to be fair, but there was nothing at all he could really do about it. His people were taking this 'Special Relationship' far too seriously if he were honest, they were being pulled into something that if escalated would ultimately destroy he and his country. He wanted no part in this madness, no part in this damn mockery of a war. Or 'cold war' as they were calling it. He truly thought it was all madness, a vile bastardization of what war truly should have been. Once it had been swords. Then guns. Then bombs... And now Atomic bombs. It would be a lie if he said he and his people were not guilty of the production of them, they'd provided many of the blueprints and know how to the Americans so that they may be the first to create such a destructive force.

They had put hell in the hands of a child. A child who did not know how to correctly use such a thing.

With a sigh he drew heavily on the fag clamped between his teeth, smoke snorted from his nose but a moment later only to be swallowed by rain. This was utterly ridiculous. They all knew that this meeting would amount to nothing but angry words that need not be exchanged. America would yell and rant. The commie bastards would get up in arms and make things so much worse, and then he would have to step in and attempt to calm down the psychopathic brat he'd somehow become allied with. With another smoke filled sigh he massaged his forehead slightly. He didn't truly want any part in this. He agreed that Russia had to be stopped, of course he did, but when he was stuck between the middle of two crazed nations which were all to happy to try and bomb the fuck out of each other?

Well you could see why he was not at all happy with the situation. If things escalated he would have a serious problem on his hands, especially considering his nation's relationship with the new superpower. He was fucked. Utterly so.

As a sudden chilled gust took him he gave a grunt of dissatisfaction before pulling the jacket closer about himself, shoulders hunching as once more drew on the fag between his teeth. It was a vile habit. He knew. Yet this whole situation required something more than just tea and the occasional round of getting pissed... Although that did seem good. Perhaps he'd find a pub later on. Sit himself in a lonely corner and drown away all his woes. Truly that sounded like a far better option than anything else, and thus his mind was set upon how the rest of his evening would be spent. First though he had to get the damn meeting ahead of him, and he truly wondered if he could.

He was rather sure he was the only bloody well sane one there, and that was not a good mix. Not when most of the room was packing more than enough weaponry to obliterate the freaking world. No, he wasn't looking forward to this. Not when this damn relationship made him more of a target than he needed to be, this was alas something that set him heavily on edge.

With a final drag, smoke blown from his mouth in a near perfect ring, he dropped the butt to the floor and ground it out with the slightly raised heel of the knee length boots he was presently adorned with. Of course he couldn't put this off any longer, not when he'd seen the damn yank enter only moments ago. He supposed it was possible that world war three would have started in his absence, in fact he'd probably be rather content to put money on such... Not that he had all too much money, not with the huge debts he owed to America.

He truly had fallen so far from his pedestal, hadn't he? A grand empire reduced to this. Catching a quick fag before a meeting because holyshit he may have actually been relatively nervous about the whole thing. Once he would have feared nothing... Yet now he could feel an unmistakable dread settle into his bones. He couldn't help but hate it.

Dragging himself from thought he pushed off the wall, turning and at last entering the building with little true preparation for anything that may happen. He and everyone else knew he was nothing more than a shadow of himself, and so each and every damn one of them knew well enough that he was near powerless to do much of anything anymore... Anything but bluff at any rate. He could still talk the talk he'd been issuing for the past years, and perhaps that would be enough. Perhaps his lies would be enough to keep him firmly rooted in the world.

So long as he retained his long standing bravado then perhaps those around him would not see how damn weak he once more was. He'd fallen from grace, and by hell he was sure the dogs that had been nipping at his feet were utterly dying to simply rip him apart.

He'd not let them.

With a grunt he found the door, pushing it open with little regard for the other occupants until it clicked closed once more. Of course the commies were already here, though so was Alfred... Well at least no one had tried to kill anything yet, though he held strong in the belief that it was only a matter of time.

Eyes settling on the paranoid he strode forward, shoulder brushing lightly against the boys before he'd shift to the side ever so slightly to maintain that ever wanted personal space. He truly hated to see the boy like this, yet what could he do? Nothing. He could do nothing but oblige the wishes of his people and continue with his support, and perhaps for once he was more willing than usual to oblige such a notion from them. The boy had the world against him, and heaven knew he'd been in exactly in the same situation on many occasions. It was truly a lonely place to be. When you were on the top there would be no one to stand be you, even the lad's brother had taken to siding with the Chinese, even if it was indeed only in a small way.

”Well then,” he drawled flatly, arms folding across his chest as the clinging rain water dripped down his face from his hair. “I'd say it's a pleasure, but frankly that would be a lie,” harsh words spoken to the red only because he truly did feel safer behind this mask of strength he was wearing.

Behind it was a different matter utterly.

[North Korea]

A small droplet of water spattered against the window of the car. Then another. Then another—until a few small drops turned into a steady stream of them exploding across the glass of the window. The window was beginning to become slightly fogged from his breath. He rested his forehead against the glass and stared out at the buildings as they whipped by, observing as lights from other cars and the city were distorted by the water droplets that clung to the window, each one seemingly filled with small, amorphous splotches of color.

He was running late. Thanks to a bit of a flight delay due to equally lousy weather back home, and some incompetent employees at the sorry excuse for an airport he’d landed in, they were now trying to make up time on their way to the meeting. Im Sang Kyu glanced up, meeting the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. At least the hired driver was decent enough.

With a small sigh, he allowed his head to once again lean against the cool glass of the window. He wasn’t exactly excited about this meeting. Why on earth would he want to be in a room with a bunch of capitalists? One of whom—America—he had been fighting against in Vietnam not even a year earlier? War was still fresh in his blood; hatred was still fresh in his heart. Mulling it over in his mind, he found that possibly the only good thing about choosing this particular meeting to go to was that his idiot traitor of a twin wouldn’t be attending.

Even so, he was treating this meeting as if all of his worst enemies would be there. He was armed to the teeth, of course. Never would he attend a meeting with other nations without arming himself. Though they had driven straight to the meeting from the airport due to their loss of time, he’d managed to stop at a bathroom to change clothes and withdraw his weapons from his suitcase. Behind the somewhat less than dignified privacy of a bathroom stall, he’d concealed weapons underneath his business-wear, and by the time he’d left, he’d strapped a small sheathed knife to his left forearm and the belt of his pants—both out of sight. With any luck, he wouldn’t have to worry about trying to reach either of them, but if all else failed, there was always the small pistol he’d tucked into his briefcase. Loaded, of course.

By the time the car pulled up to the building, it was raining steadily, and the meeting was set to begin at any moment. Grumbling a quiet thanks to his driver, the Korean plucked his briefcase off the seat next to him and stepped out, slamming the door behind him. He made his way quickly up the walkway, aiming to get as little wet as possible.

Once inside the building, he found the meeting room easily enough, though the sight he was greeted with was not the greatest. It appeared, that already, some kind of conflict had occurred. A few chairs had been turned over, the rest not nearly as straight as you would expect them to be for a meeting. His eye was instantly drawn to the damned American lounging with his feet on the table as if he owned the place.

The North Korean, taking this as a challenge, smiled darkly at the blond haired man, a haughty hostility already showing in his eyes. He had sided with the communists in the Vietnam War, providing them with military assistance and advice on fighting western opponents. As far as he was concerned, the American’s failure to stop the communists in Vietnam only showed his true weakness. Based on what he’d heard, even his own people were disgusted by such a display.

Such weakness had prompted the Great Leader, Kim Il Sung, to proclaim that a second attempt at reunifying the Korean Peninsula was finally possible. The Americans had been occupied as it was with Vietnam, and with the sorry excuse for a fight they’d been putting up down there, any troops they managed to spare for a fight in Korea would have been easily obliterated. The only thing that had kept a second attempt to unify the Peninsula from happening? China. With China still getting over the “after effects,” as they were calling it, of a cultural revolution, they would not be able to spare any aid to North Korea, and so the plan was grudgingly abandoned. That had been only a year ago.

And yet, here he was, facing the man who somehow managed to lose his sacred war on communism and still possess the largest stockpile of nuclear weapons on the planet…That would have to be fixed. In North Korea, they had been secretly tinkering with the possibility of developing their own atomic weapons, “inspired,” in a sense, by their neighbors, Russia and China. As a communist nation so close in relations to both (and at the moment, playing a dangerous balancing act in the rocky relationship between the two), Sang Kyu had felt it was his duty to carry out this legacy of advanced weaponry, and so, the idea had been tossed around by his government officials for a while, and research had finally begun.

His arrogant smile fading, the Korean’s attention shifted from the American to the steely glare on Belarus’s face. Sang Kyu began to walk slowly in that direction, and on closer inspection, found that the look was directed at his Hyung, Wang Yao. Such blatant disrespect she was showing! It occurred to him then, that it was probably her who was responsible for the disorderly arrangement of the room. Though he’d only been in the same room as her once, maybe twice, it had been enough to tell him that she was not the nicest of women. Based on her expression, she was definitely upset at something, and all signs said it was Yao. Sang Kyu’s lips drew back into a frown, and he took a seat next to the Chinese man protectively. If she tried anything, he would not let her get away with it. Intertwining his fingers together in front of him, he shot her a look that said death, his eyes shining with the same steely glint they took on on the battlefield. After a split second of this, he scanned the others around the table, his face now showing no sign of being angry at all.

“Well, well…” he muttered quietly to no one in particular. “What a fine day for a meeting indeed.”


((Notes:
--fadfsd I'm sorry, this is probably TL;DR. ;-;
--This was actually a pretty active period in North Korea's history. It was like...their prime-time actually. Their economy was good, they considered Vietnam a success, and they really did consider trying to take over South Korea again in 1975, I kid you not. But, Mao Zedong refused to help, and so they gave up on it.
--This is when their relations with Russia started to worsen though. They tried so hard to mediate during the Sino-Soviet split, but ultimately ended up leaning to the China side of things. Later, relations with China got a bit rocky, but the returned to normal about 1970.
--Right when China developed nuclear weapons, they refused to give North Korea any because they feared Kim Il Sung was the kind of guy who might actually use them. As it turns out, this is probably what prompted North Korea to start developing their own, since they apparently began experimenting in the 1970s.
--Also, "hyung" (directed at China here), means "older brother" in Korean. ))

[china]

Arrival went smoothly, or—as smooth as one could get with three democratic nations and three communist nations being crowded in one room. As soon as they were all taking their seats, utensils in hand, the barrier between them became obvious. Communists, or the ‘red’ ones on one side; the ‘capitalists’ on the other. It never ceased to amuse him how one conformed when situations arose. Those that he would be debating with would no doubt lean on one another, as they had in the past. It was bitter, horribly so, for Yao to watch them walk in. His eyes had gone to Belarus, having ignored her comment for some time. He’d never understand why Ivan would send her, out of all those subordinates he had in his hand; she was somewhat of a ticking time bomb in his eyes. Not simply saying so due to how she glared, insulted, and obviously daydreamed of ten different ways to maim him with her knife. Let her come, if she could find the courage to do so. His smile, and benevolent face was oddly calm; he showed no paranoia against the nations. Offering Canada the same grace that was offered to him, and even some to the dreadful woman that would be, by default, on his side during this lengthy meeting.

Belarus’ comment made him chuckle, shaking his head—he had no qualm in addressing her now in front of everyone else. ”Why would I not ‘show my face,’ as you said? Would you rather be here alone, because I doubt you would get very far.” She lived in her brother’s shadow, as far as Yao was concerned. She did not hold the power to judge him like Ivan did, and as furious as he was with the USSR; he respected the man that literally scraped him off the ground. They’d worked together for so many years, and it all came to a screeching halt one day; he’d turned his back on the Soviet Union, but he couldn’t bring himself to break more of what was already shattered. He too had nuclear weapons, but they were more for show, as China receded back into itself. Calling him an isolationist probably wouldn’t have been far from the truth, as wobbly as he still was from the last World War; he honestly had no choice in the matter. Glancing to his left and right, he made mental note of everyone accounted for. Six, only six of them. Ironically enough, the twin that held America’s characteristics—but none of his attitude—was his favorite in the room.

There was much guilt settled within his psyche about North Korea, he couldn’t help his little brother when it mattered. So soon after the Korean War, as well as the more recent Vietnam; China was in quite the predicament. He’d been saved from the pains of seeing the utter bottom of society; the hierarchy nations naturally placed themselves in. He was still weakened, but the Chinese carried himself with thousands of years of experience. He would not falter, nor show any hostility towards these nations. Externally, at least. He was inwardly insulting Belarus for thankfully not leaving her leash at home, because ancestors help them all if she decided talking was a talent she lacked. His mind was more so set on the United Kingdom, time had not been kind to either of them. However, saying he didn’t relish seeing the Englishman taken down a few pegs would have been a lie. He responded, almost too serenely to the man’s ambiguous greeting. ”It is nice to see you as well,” his eyes narrowed as he closed them for only one split second. Opening them to try and catch that venomous jade; he still thought of England as poisonous. Not an enemy. Just pure, utter poison. ”But I tend to be less candid then you are, I suppose.” Alluding to how he didn’t mean it, nor anything he said, was an Asian mean of communication passed down to his ‘siblings.’ Be polite to your allies, be even more so to your enemies.

His dark eyes turned to the American, oddly quiet during this formal exchange. He’d expected the young world power to come in with his (hopefully verbal) guns blazing. Taking down everything that bore the color red, possibly even trying to forcefully drag them onto his side of the field. The Cold War was pure tactics, and luckily, Wang Yao knew how to play such a game. He knew when to bluff, when to remain quiet, and (of course) when to defend what little he’d reclaimed from the mass destruction he’d seen his country go through at the end of World War II. The Chinese could almost laugh at the utter injustice; he came from an era where he had been alone, cut off from this fiasco the west plagued him with.

North Korea made their complete team, and Yao bowed his head to the younger brother. Giving only a short look to try and quiet the Asian sibling, he could fight his own battles. Even if he still ached from what Japan had put him through. His lips formed a thin line, parting to speak only to his Korean neighbor. ”Sometimes weather reflects more then what it can ever possibly see, at times it makes me wonder about chance and destiny. I can never decide which is responsible for what.” He chuckled, moving his sleeve to his lips to muffle the oddly light sound. A tranquil conscience would be his best ally in this verbal tangle, no matter which side took the first shot. This table could become a battlefield if the conditions were right. The quiet world power did not give off the most—benevolent air, to say the least.

Undoing the clasp on his own briefcase, he took out the small yellow folder that held most of his information regarding current events taking place both on his doorstep (as in the Soviet Union) as well as beyond the Pacific Ocean. Flipping through the typed summaries, he placed his hand on his cheek; scanning through each sentence with distain. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. America was an utter hypocrite, coming to his door and offering trade, despite his ‘red’ bastard stain—he was in no position to refuse. ”I suppose I shall open up conversation,” his eyes again went to either England or America, knowing that it would be most likely one of them that started verbal assaults. ”But before I do, please keep in mind that I am no longer allied with the Soviet Union.” Yao didn’t need to look, he knew Belarus was most likely glaring holes into the back of his skull—or everywhere. Probably everywhere. ”Just in case some of us skipped that memo, or seem so keen as to lock me in that category.” China was China, and the Soviet Union was the Soviet Union; funny how that came to be, as America still refused to let Japan go—and Ivan freely let Yao walk where he wished to. Democracy, equality, and fairness indeed. I suppose some sort of payment is needed for the five times additional loss of life my brother suffered in fraction comparison to those that perished in Pearl Harbor.

”Now, with that out of the way, let’s get to the main subject. The reason why the Soviet Union is not present today. As I am more then sure you’re looking for an outlet to take out this Cold War frustration on.” Glancing back down at his information, he held back the frown threatening to form on his hauntingly apathetic face. ”There seems to be an issue with the middle east, Egypt is asking for aid from the Soviet Union. The matter extends to Cuba, and Angola; it seems he has been busy these last few months.” The Chinese closed the folder for the time being, he’d read over them multiple times until he was certain those words were tattooed on the inside of his eyelids. What he needed to observe was the reaction it caused within the meeting; then he could truly begin playing his cards. The world had yet to see what China was capable of. No matter if it took him five more decades, he would see this happen.

[/font]

((NOTES:
Not a lot to say about this one that isn’t already in the post. Herp, I’m kind of rushing this one out the door before its socks are on, though. :’D Must study for exam tiems, but I needed to get this out first. I apologize in advance for fail.

And just because someone has to say it—SUCH LOVELY POSTS, GUYS~ <3 Keep on bringin’ it.

PS: OH YEAH. Totally forgot. I’m not going to be quoting every bit of text to respond to it, because that would take too long and I’d hate myself. ;A; And I’m lazy. Isupposeyoucoulddoitifyouwant. Unless it is distinctly important, I’m not gonna fill myself up with speech-ness. SorryguysImightdoitinlaterposts,Iguess.))

[avio]

Natalia only vaguely registered the others who entered the room, too busy trying not to explode prematurely and attack Yao, as badly as she wanted to. She had to be calm. Calm, calm… She decided it would be her mantra throughout the meeting; there was no doubt in her mind that it was going to get testing. With all of the tension in the room, it was only going to get thicker as the meeting went on. It would be far more bearable if Vanya was only here.

She hadn’t noticed when Matthew had entered, but she had definitely noticed when Alfred did. Her already tried nerves were being tried again, and she can see him in the corner of her eye, making his way to his seat (which she was pleased to notice it was one of the seats she’d overturned, as petty as the thought was). She chanced a quick glare at the pig, noticing his legs were propped up, and the rage in her flared. Capitalist bastard, thinking he’s superior to the rest of us! Vanya, I am certain, will knock him down a few pegs. I know he will. Her lips seemed to stick with her snarl, curled up in her irritation and distaste. My Vanya will teach him that the Soviet Union is not afraid of him or his bombs.

With such bitter thoughts crowding around in her mind, she sat up straighter, lifting her chin up. She wasn’t afraid of anybody in this room, not anybody, especially not that arrogant American bastard, not at all. She was a part of the Soviet Union, after all. As if to affirm this, she swept the room with a glare as Arthur took his seat.

“Well then, I’d say it was a pleasure, but frankly that would be a lie,” he remarked, addressing her side of the table.

Natalia opened her lips, glare settled on Yao again and ready to retort in her own way when she caught the eye of Sang Kyu. A dangerous glare was sent her way--

looking at somebody like that could start a war, Sang Kyu, especially in times such as these…

--and she responded with her own icy stare in the split second after, as he spoke his own greeting.

“Well, well… what a fine day for a meeting indeed.”

“Certainly,” she mumbled, returning her irate gaze to the Chinese. His not-so-agitated expression only served to fuel her anger. How dare he act as if this was some small thing? He had blatantly betrayed them, and yet--

“Why would I not ‘show my face,’ as you said? Would you rather be here alone, because I doubt you would get very far.”

She could feel the angry flush make its way to her cheeks, and bit back the urge to hurl a string of profanities (and an attack of her knives) at the infuriating remark of that traitor.

He will get his eventually, he will pay for what he has done, just sit through this, just be calm, that bastard will get his…

“Now, with that out of the way,” he began, opening a yellow folder and scanning the contents, “let’s get to the main subject. The reason why the Soviet Union is not present today. As I am more than sure you’re looking for an outlet to take out this Cold War frustration on. There seems to be an issue with the Middle East, Egypt is asking for aid from the Soviet Union. The matter extends to Cuba, and Angola; it seems he has been busy these last few months.” He spoke calmly, closing the folder.

A flicker of pain rippled through her less-than-civil thoughts; she had already known this information. She’d known it for months. Long months without her precious Vanya at home. Long months alone with those Baltic idiots and her sestra.

“Da, Vanya has been increasingly busy,” she confirmed, voice steady and eyes again sweeping over those in the room. She couldn’t help but add, “it is hard work when one is as powerful and strong as he is.” She shot a glare at Alfred, a cold smirk playing at her lips. Oh, the words she wished she could really say to him, with the venom she was so good at spewing laced within them.

You are nothing in comparison to him. You will never be able to compare to him. Nobody will, but you least of all. And perhaps you, too, will find yourself a “commie,” you arrogant American bastard.

However, now was not the time to be so… assaulting. Not quite yet. She could already feel the hate thick in the air, just ready to escalate into God-knows-what. She wondered how long it would be before the first one broke and the rest followed. She was well-aware of the fact that she was probably gunning for the first, at the rate her nerves were. She decided she did not wish to be responsible, so she would do her best to keep her fury in check.

In such company, this will be quite the feat. However, I will not be the cause. Perhaps Vanya will praise me for such a feat? This thought sparked a bubbling feeling of hope. Anything to be on his good side was good for her.

“This being said, I have been sent in his stead to represent the Soviet Union.” Her voice was stern, authoritative. She was not going to lose control. She was not.

I will not be the one to blame when things explode. And Vanya will be proud.

[canada]

Not long after Matthew sat down, America entered. He watched the tense looking nation from the corner of his eye as he upturned his seat and sat down with his legs upon the table. Matthew resisted the urge to sigh and roll his eyes at the action. America’s attitude would do more bad than good at this moment, Matthew thought. If he – and certain other nations – didn’t feel the need to continually show off exactly how powerful they are and how much weapons they can make, this whole meeting wouldn’t even be necessary. When America turned to look at him, Matthew returned his stare. Unlike he had expected, no sound came out when he finally opened his mouth. Alfred staying silent, that was a first. Matthew reverted his eyes back to the still empty papers for notes in front of him. He also remained silent while they waited for the other nations.

While he waited he occasionally glanced through the silent room, eyes shortly settling on each of the nations already in the room, eventually glancing at his brother again. He looked rather restless. Paranoia concerning Communism didn’t go as far in Canada as it did in the United States. Alfred pretty much drove him crazy sometimes. More than once already had he threatened to give him no more security information on Canadian citizens. He didn’t like the way the United States handled that information. Especially after Norman’s death in 1957 was he reluctant to hand over such information to his brother.

England entered, with a less than friendly greeting. It was understandable though. None of them were sitting here because they just liked it so damn much. Nevertheless it wasn’t good for Matthew’s nerves to be greeted like that, despite knowing the displeasure was mostly directed at the communists in the room. At least Matthew had the courtesy to not to let it show as much that he didn’t want to be here.

North Korea was next to arrive, completing the group of nations that would be attending the meeting today.

Matthew sighed lightly at China’s reply to what Belarus had said earlier. Already the nations were passing insults to one another; some more subtly than others. He only hoped any assaults through the meeting stayed of the verbal kind. Matthew looked around the room. He had not a doubt that each and every one of the nations present had weapons on them. So far Belarus had been the only one to show them – including an intent to use them. And even the peace loving nation of Canada had resorted to bringing a weapon to a meeting. Nuclear weapons already made it past my borders, so why not bring a gun to a meeting, Canada thought with a bitter sarcasm. No, he did not like this. However, it would be foolish to go to a meeting like this unarmed. Though he had no intention to use it unless it was absolutely necessary.

Luckily most of the nuclear weaponry was now out of his country, and Matthew believed it would only be a matter of time before the last would be gone. When the nuclear weapons were being removed from Canada in 1971, there had been an exception for a couple of AIR-2 Genie rockets. Personally he couldn’t wait until they were gone as well. He wasn’t comfortable with those kind of weapons in his country. Especially not after having declared himself to be a non-nuclear nation.

China started the meeting, reassuring the nations in the room that he was no longer allied with the Soviet Union. Of course Matthew was well aware of this fact. Even if he hadn’t known before coming to the meeting, the scene he walked in on earlier told him enough. He glanced at Belarus, catching the dangerous glare she was sending in China’s direction, and had to withhold himself from wincing.

China went on to explain why the Soviet Union wouldn’t be attending today. Matthew wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not that he wasn’t here. He was even more uncertain if it was good that Belarus was attending instead to represent the USSR. With her explosive personality the meeting was even less likely to go over smoothly.

Nevertheless he didn’t voice those thoughts and just nodded at what the others said.

Notes:

-- I’m sorry this is late. I couldn’t get onto a computer to finish the post sooner. ;A; I’ll most likely have my laptop back by the time it’s my turn to reply again.
-- In 1957 Egerton Herbert Norman, the Canadian Ambassador to Egypt, committed suicide after his loyalty to Canada and the United States was publicly questioned by the United States Senate Subcommittee on Internal Security, despite having been cleared twice already. The Canadian Prime Minister at that time, Pearson, sent a note to the US Government, threatening to offer no more security information on Canadian citizens.
-- In 1971 Canada declared itself a non-nuclear country. Nuclear weapons were removed from Canadian soil, with the exception of Genie anti-aircraft rockets, which were not removed until 1984.

[usa]

     He was rather surprised. It did not take long for the last of the nations to make their way into the room. The sound of footsteps had drawn his eyes to the door, where he noticed Arthur walk in not too long after Alfred himself had entered. Simply he watched him walk past as if somewhat wary of the Brit's presence, not really having seeing his face since V-E Day- a day best kept to himself in regards to personal events. There had been times where he'd seen him briefly, but that was about it. The absence of seeing him was making the young man wary, even if slightly. In essence the young man was simply paranoid someone was going to back stab him, literally or politically. In this conflict, there was little one could do to predict the actions of others, no matter how each side tried. It was risky and dangerous, but at the point, it wasn't a surprise. But as his blue eyes returned to the door, he gritted his teeth at the sight of Sang Kyu. Bastard he was. He could almost feel his blood boil as he suddenly tensed and his figure became ridged, more so than it was before. He had to almost bite his tongue to keep from outbursting. No, he was to be the one who remained their calm. He had to show that Democracies were the one who were above it all.

     Then the unpleasant pleasantries began.

"Well then, I'd say it's a pleasure, but frankly that would be a lie,”

“Well, well… What a fine day for a meeting indeed.”

“Certainly.”

     Alfred didn't respond to either of those, wanting to remain quiet for that part of the meeting. Eugh, their sarcasm was rather off putting, but then again the atmosphere in the room was so heavy and thick with hostility that not even America could ignore it. In fact he was contributing a large amount of it. His eyes flicked over to China who decided to open up the meeting. Instead of useful things, only hostile things ran through his mind as he watched the Chinese man open up the meeting as calm as he did. He could almost puke.

”I suppose I shall open up conversation, but before I do, please keep in mind that I am no longer allied with the Soviet Union. Just in case some of us skipped that memo, or seem so keen as to lock me in that category. Now, with that out of the way, let’s get to the main subject. The reason why the Soviet Union is not present today. As I am more then sure you’re looking for an outlet to take out this Cold War frustration on. There seems to be an issue with the middle east, Egypt is asking for aid from the Soviet Union. The matter extends to Cuba, and Angola; it seems he has been busy these last few months.”

"Sounds fascinating." He drawled sarcastically. "One less hideous face I have to see." he rolled his eyes and swung a ballpoint pen between his fingers, looking bored.

     Things were actually better off without that damned, godless country floating around in the meeting. America would have probably tried physically hurting someone and causing a ruckus. There was a constant need to just throw his weight around as of late, as well as a need to keep spitting at communist nations in order to try and cut them down. Vietnam was just something he wasn't going to speak about on his own. In fact he felt like he'd start getting violent should he be forced into it as well. In a way he felt that China was perhaps the only red nation in the whole room he'd go through a whole meeting with without getting too belligerent with. If things should stay quiet, then perhaps everyone would get out of here with their limbs still attached. Then again, Belarus was here, so anything went. And indeed, anything went.

"Da, Vanya has been increasingly busy, it is hard work when one is as powerful and strong as he is.”

Eyes snapped opened and an icy glare met with Natalia's. Oh that bitch. "Still kissing your brother's ass, I see." His tone was derisively snide and a smirk appeared on his formally solid expression. "Well aren't you cute." Soviets were so clueless. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to worship the devil?" He snickered slightly. "Oh, 'scuse me, you're just the devil's child..." Blue eyes looked around the room. "...as are the rest of you communist bastards."

     He continued to fiddle with the pen as he continued to watch her, having a deep feeling someone was going to make a violent move and he didn't want to be caught too off guard. This meeting, he felt, was somewhat meaningless. What exactly were they going to be able to get done? It just seemed superfluous to have a room full of belligerent countries rather than just two. Things were bound to go out of hand, and even then, nothing should be said between the Democratic countries and the Communist countries. Peace talks just seemed weak. Nixon had already tried establishing relations with a communist country, and for that Alfred looked down upon him more than he already did, even if China wasn't part of the USSR. Perhaps Alfred had to admit, breaking away from the USSR was worth a few points of respect, even when the nation was still a communist one.

     Feeling himself unable to sit still again he removed his feet from the table and instead had them on the ground where they should have been all along, feeling himself tensing and glaring at the blond woman, before having his glance flick to the Korean and the Chinese man. There was no fooling here, none at all. One false move, one offensive word that was too offensive: all of it was fuel for a conflict that would be more than just verbal. Even with the democratic countries by his side, he still felt a pang of distrust, even with his brotherhood with Canada and his Special Relationship with England. There wasn't one person in this room he felt distrustful of. Not one, and therefore he felt like it was the world against him, even when half of it was supporting. The feeling of not being able to trust your allies was killing hi, but alas he couldn't help it. He couldn't help the feeling, and he didn't want it to go away. It was not of of masochism, but merely for the fact that anyone could betray you at any moment for any reason. He felt he could take the blow easier if he kept this mindset.

Standing, he made a bold proposal. "Now, let's be frank," He adjusted his outfit slightly. "if the whole meeting's gunna be about that bastard, we might as well put an end to this stupid excuse for a meeting that's trying to be run by bastard commies." Smiling slightly he looked over everyone in the room in the eye. "Unless of course, we plan to diverge from that topic and go right ahead with more important things, things that have to do with making the world a better, more free place. In that case, I believe that I should take the stage from here." The young man folded his arms as if he had one a battle that no one else seemed to be aware of. "I'm not listening to objections, especially if they're from Red bastards."

      With victorious attitude he remained standing, feeling like he owned the place when really he was just another piece in this game of chess. Yet he felt like the player, moving the pawns around to his whim. He loved the feeling as if it were reality. His standing in the world gave him so much, but at the same time, gave him so little outside of enemies and opposers. Nations were wary, and others simply wanted to see the end of him. This period of tension felt like it would never end, and every day he felt like they were getting closer and closer to a fallout- something he didn't want part of. That was what he got in return for climbing the top of the ladder. Like all other great nations, he would fall, but for now he wanted to keep his standing for as long as possible. He had attained such in such a short amount of time, and yet he wondered for himself how such came to fall on his lap. America never questioned, it was here and his, and forever he hoped it would be, and no communist regime was going to take it away from him.

[albion]

”It is nice to see you as well, but I tend to be less candid then you are, I suppose.”

With a snort he lifted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “It’s a gift. What can I say.” They were a pair who had perhaps long ago agreed to disagree, an agreement that had been silent and never spoken. It had worked though, extending to even this day and age so many years from the time he’d first reached those once fascinating Asian shores. Now all he found there was a mild disinterest, little reason for any association now that they were once more playing upon different teams. Yet it was in many ways their similarities that made this in itself rather tragic. In a different time and place with very different circumstances they could have been closer than they now found themselves, but alas this was not how it was. Never could be. Never would be. This was reality, and whilst in many ways it was a harsh sham of a thing that was how it was.

”I suppose I shall open up conversation, but before I do, please keep in mind that I am no longer allied with the Soviet Union. Just in case some of us skipped that memo, or seem so keen as to lock me in that category. Now, with that out of the way, let’s get to the main subject. The reason why the Soviet Union is not present today. As I am more then sure you’re looking for an outlet to take out this Cold War frustration on. There seems to be an issue with the middle east, Egypt is asking for aid from the Soviet Union. The matter extends to Cuba, and Angola; it seems he has been busy these last few months.”
"Sounds fascinating. One less hideous face I have to see."

He had to admit, it was probably no bad thing that the russian wasn’t here, it at least meant Alfred was slightly less likely to suddenly fly off his handle and try to kill the bastard. No, it was without a doubt a good thing... And yet... And yet there was still a dull sense of worry. If Russia was not here then there was the nasty sensation of not knowing what he was doing. He was near without a doubt causing trouble, and as China said... He was causing issues in countries that had little chance of really resisting. This was a problem, and one that certainly needed to be solved. At the current rate of things the world could become red, especially with the current rate people were defecting to communism. It... No, it had to be stopped. Truly it did. If it weren’t then there would be a problem far larger than it were at present.

“Da, Vanya has been increasingly busy, it is hard work when one is as powerful and strong as he is. This being said, I have been sent in his stead to represent the Soviet Union.”

Oh was she not so very naive. Truly a fool in every sense. To have such blind faith in another was as if to serenade death himself, a task which could only ever cause problems for the soul acting the sheep to a Shepard. If that was what she wished though then so be it, he didn’t truly care for her... And yet... And yet “Power is a fickle thing though, my dear child. In the end it’s really nothing but an illusion~” An illusion he’d mastered so long ago. With the right words a beggar could become a king with so little effort it was truly astounding. “For example,” he drawled, lifting a sheet of paper from the table before him. “This paper could seem strong” With that he took both ends and gave a slight tug and creating a snapping noise, but bar for that nothing. “Now then, what would happen if you exposed a crack? A weakness if you will.” Making a small rip on the central edge of the paper he presented it before him once more and giving a tug of the same callibur as before.

This time the paper split in half, origin of the fault of course beginning at the tiny rip. With a snort he simply let the paper drift to the floor, a sneer curling across his features. “Oh dear me, it seems it wasn’t as strong as it first seemed~ Your dear Vanya is not strong. He’s merely wearing enough masks that those as blind as you, Belarus, do not see them. I assure you that the rest of us do.” A simple concept really, yet one that was so very true.

“He is not strong, foolish girl, you are simply blind to the flaws that will be used to rip him down. Alas, the same of course goes for your dear communism... Sorry and all that~” Hardly, buuuuut whatever.

"Still kissing your brother's ass, I see. Well aren't you cute. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to worship the devil? Oh, 'scuse me, you're just the devil's child... ...as are the rest of you communist bastards."

With a sigh he pinched the bridge of his nose as he took his seat. It was true he didn’t agree with communism, though it was also true that he himself had only really turned to capitalism upon the request (demand?) of the americans. He didn’t agree with his methods, though in a way they were no doubt exactly the same as his own. Fight and destroy until they would bend to your will. He’d perfected the method, and now here he was watching his once charge doing the same. It was a turn that perhaps showed how much of a mess he’d made. Or perhaps Alfred had simply fucked this up himself, which was more than likely really.

"Now, let's be frank, if the whole meeting's gunna be about that bastard, we might as well put an end to this stupid excuse for a meeting that's trying to be run by bastard commies. Unless of course, we plan to diverge from that topic and go right ahead with more important things, things that have to do with making the world a better, more free place. In that case, I believe that I should take the stage from here. I'm not listening to objections, especially if they're from Red bastards."

“Shut up,” he stated flatly, chin resting upon his hand. “The lot of you are turning this whole thing into a damn well mockery. I was rather sure that the last two wars were meant to be an end to madness such as this, and yet here we are once again.” This time it wasn’t his fault, nor the Germans. Instead he merely felt like the only sane one here, the only one thinking this was a whole waste of damn well time. “Instead of talking about Russia or yourself, which is in the end what you wanted, I suggest we simply stick to the current affairs as China has said. It makes the most sense and is far more efficient.” With an exasperated sigh he tapped a finger against the table for a moment. “And alas that is very much all she wrote, anyone who does not agree is free to leave. The door is right there for anyone who does not wish to act like a mature adult.”

If that was everyone bar for himself then yes, he was willing to sit in this room alone.