How he hated the cold. He hated the icy winds and the chills that ran up and down his spine when the breeze found its way through his coat and jacket. Summer had just started in America and he was in no mood to face up to the freezing temperatures of Denmark. While he wanted nothing more than to skip the meeting and go back home, he knew that he couldn't. The blond couldn't skip any meetings these days. Many things could happen in his presence; he could have made himself an enemy to someone without even realizing it until a while later, or there could be important news updates that he simply had to hear. The United States of America, however, did not want to witness the start of another war. He had been in many battles- [I]too[/I] many, he might add. His body was littered with fading and fresh scars, and every single one brought back bad memories. America sighed, watching his breath puff out in front of him. The dark brown woolen coat protected him from most of the cold, and his hood was trimmed with fur, so he could pull it over his head if he got a bit too irritated with the wind. In his hands was an ordinary cup of coffee, something that he couldn't live without. Sometimes he would go to meetings with a cup of tea, but that was only when he found himself in a good mood. No, he needed energy. Something big was about to go down and he had to be awake. He travelled down the street a few more feet until his eyes of azure glanced upwards to see a large, historic looking building. He walked up to the door and pushed it open, relieved to feel a blast of warm air hit him as he strode inside. What would he do without a thermostat? America experienced a variety of temperatures throughout the year, but he lived in New York City, where winters were long and harsh and summers were brisk and warm. While he wished that he could enjoy a few more months of summer, America decided that his home was definitely in New York- no where else. He made his way to the meeting hall, where he saw Denmark and Iceland. America offered them one of his trademark smiles in greeting. [B]"How's everybody doin'?"[/b] he asked rather loudly. [B]"It sure is cold outside, isn't it?"[/b] ---- The silver haired man, however, was quite accustomed to the weather in Denmark. After all, he was the owner of the coldest place on Earth, which was Siberia, and all of his country was constantly in winter time. Russia didn't mind the wind or the cold weather- it was a chilly day for him at the most. His green eyes flicked up and down the street, a smile curling upon his lips as he hummed a song under his breath. The enormous man was not afraid to see the other nations, even if they met each other with bared fangs and unsheathed claws. Then again, what was he afraid of? Many people called him an old bear, being an older nation and all. But Russia knew that bears weren't one to be scared. He was... wary, to say the least. He was only wary of the actual Superpowers- the smaller countries yelping for war could go to hell. Then again, he couldn't say that he wasn't itching for the sound of war. Life was boring, and Russia didn't feel like sitting around on his ass all day. Maybe he could toy with America and Britain today, and maybe some of the smaller countries, too. They were bossing him around too much, especially since the end of the war in the Middle East. Hell, they even placed sanctions on him before the Middle East had destroyed itself. [I]I couldn't even do what I wanted with my own sister.[/I] his gloved hands clenched as he stared ahead. The meeting hall was larger than he remembered... but when was the last time that he had come here? Probably around 2012... or maybe 2013... that was too long ago. He had better things to think about than the last time he had been in Copenhagen. His right hand pushed against the door, opening it ever so slightly. His emerald eyes flicked over his shoulder as he searched for any other nation that might be down the street. But, seeing no one familiar, he entered the building and walked down the hall. Voices could be heard from the meeting hall- America and Denmark were two of them... but the third was hard to place. Maybe it was Finland? Sweden? He didn't know, but he would know as soon as he got to the meeting room. Russia peeked into the room, smiling at the host. The giant of a man stepped inside and dipped his head in greeting. [b]"[I]Privet[/I],"[/b] he said in a sing song voice. And with that, he picked a seat and sat down. He was sure that this meeting would be interesting. --- [I]It's nice out today.[/I] The German nation did not enjoy the sweltering heat nor the bitter cold, and Denmark was neither of those things. At least, it wasn't in his opinion. To him, the nation was a tad bit chilly, but he wasn't about to complain. What he did complain about, however, were the winters that came with unusual amounts of heat. They had hit his nation quite a few times already, and Germany was quite sick of it. He would put away his fan for the winter season and then he would have to plug it back in in the middle of January. He hoped that this winter would bring a sufficient amount of snow, so that one could enjoy the season while it lasted. Germany trotted down the streets, not a hair out of place, as he searched for the building where the meeting would be held. He wasn't late, but then again, he wasn't early. And he hated that. He was usually the first one there and the last one to leave. Germany was, in other terms, the general peace-keeper of the group. He would stop at nothing to make sure that no country would aim their guns or blades at each other, and so far, his tactics worked. But worry plagued him as he tried to sleep. His strategy worked, yes, but nations grew more and more tense with each other every meeting. Something told him that he should start picking sides, but he really didn't want to. Germany was no longer into pointing a barrel at another country. Sighing, Germany ran a hand through his hair, glancing around the streets. Where was this building? For some reason, he couldn't find it. And when he couldn't find something, he began to get frustrated. He was already late in being early, and that pissed him off. The building had to be on the street he was on... oh. There it was. The German man allowed a relieved look to come over his face, and ran up to the door, shoving it open with his shoulder. He briskly walked down the hall and to the meeting room, where he found Denmark, Iceland, America, and Russia. Now, if America was there before him, then he was really late. [B]"[I]Guten tag.[/I]"[/b] Germany greeted, his voice friendly but his expression distant and disconnected like always. --- [I]COLD![/I] It was so cold. So very cold. Her skin was flushed and rough with goosebumps, and her nose was already running. Her fingers and cheeks were burning with the freezing temperature. Let's just say that South Italy was in a worse mood than usual. Then, when was she ever in a better mood? It was almost pitiful, seeing the small country- or part of a country, to be more specific -trembling in the middle of Copenhagen, Denmark. She was lost, alone, and believe it or not, afraid. She had no idea where her little sibling was, and since North Italy attended most of the meetings, she really didn't know what she was supposed to be looking for. [I]Damn it, North... why couldn't you have come at the same time with me? No, why couldn't you have come and I have stayed in Tuscany or whatever! Oh right...[/I] It was because of the mafia, right? They were acting up recently, and she knew that she really shouldn't be left alone. Yet, why couldn't she have gone to a warmer country than Denmark-?! [B]"Why is it always me that has to suffer?!"[/b] South Italy cried, her face one of anger and frustration. She always had to be the one that did all of the hard work, right? Her sibling sure as hell didn't have a farm on his land, and while they was the [somewhat] stronger sibling, they did much less work than her. Her amber eyes shot daggers down the street, a scowl beginning to show on her face. Her coat and scarf did nothing to protect her from the cold, she was hungry, and she was lost. Oh wait... wasn't that the building right there? South growled under her breath, running toward the building and shoving the door aside after some effort. The building was warm, which cheered her up. Somewhat. The Italian woman huffed, walking to the meeting room and taking a seat without so much as a hello.