A man with wavy brown hair walked down the damp street with a rose behind his ear and a tune in his mind. He had gotten distracted on the way to the world meeting - but he wasn't able to help himself! It was just the way he was. He had seen a group of beautiful woman, and had - well - he had spoken to them, told them in his usual suave way that they were all lovely. And he had gotten into a chat with them. They had asked for his number, but unfortunately he had needed to make an excuse. He had made mistakes with human women before - Madame de Pompadour had died so young, and that had made him an extremely sad man for a good couple of months. He didn't want that sort of heartbreak again. But his flirtatious ways could never be beaten down, and he wouldn't abandon them. He loved all beautiful things... Sighing poetically, he turned to head up the steps and knocked lightly on the door before entering. His dark eyes swept the room, and he smiled slowly in apology. "Bonjour! I am sorry about my lateness, mon amis," he purred, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. "I became... Distracted. Now, do tell me, has England used her sharp tongue without me here? I must know." He smirked at her, raising his eyebrows twice before walking forward and dropping into a chair with his usual cool style. It was just a joke, but he knew he was poking her buttons. It was fun. 

Denmark found herself slightly surprised by Iceland's announcement; the way that he spurned her offer of help. She hadn't been thinking of it in that manner, but she would indeed respect his neutrality. But she was not sure whether or not she could do the same. So long as Germany stayed neutral, she could as well. She would cross that bridge when she came to it - for now, no declarations. "Alright." She rested her elbows on the table, clasping her hands together. "Does anyone else want to speak?" she asked. Her eyes drifted to the Italians - none of them had said anything about their own countries. South looked sulky, and Vatican was just, well, hiding away as usual. Maybe North would have something to add, or someone else might want to speak again. Then there was a knocking on the door, and France entered with his usual smoothness. And then he was poking fun at England... well, then. She didn't know how this would turn out.