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Post by Scotland on Jul 23, 2012 8:25:14 GMT -5
[France gets a free pass, it's his bunk too. First two nations to join us may get drunk with us. Who knows what happens when they get drunk?]
He sat on the floor, legs stretched out ahead of him with a bottle of whiskey and a glass between his knees. He poured the dark liquid into the glass, struggling a little at first to keep the lip of the bottle from rolling off the edge of the glass. It wouldn't do to spill such precious fluid.
He'd taken off his boots, socks, jacket, and gloves, just sitting there in his pants, shirt half-unbuttoned and a loosely hanging tie. He'd put a rug on the floor by his bunk, as stepping onto a cold floor with sleep-warm feet was something he wanted to avoid at all costs. So he sat on the rug, with other bottles of alcohol lined up on the floor along the frame of his bed like a multi-colored fragile wall.
If he could smoke inside, he'd have a cigarette lit up as well, but he just leaned back against the wall by his bunk and he held up the glass in front of him in toast.
"Me heart's in th' Highlands, me heart be nae here. Me heart's in th' Highlands, a-chasin' th' deer. A-chasing wild deer, an' followin' th' roe, me heart's in th' Highlands, where'er I go."
Down went the glassful in one shot.
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Post by Argentina on Jul 23, 2012 8:53:41 GMT -5
Both hands grasping the rungs of the ladder closest to her bunk, Argentina climbed step after step up to the upper level of the warehouse. Her hands pushed off and she dragged herself up. Tina placed a foot up onto the solid flooring, and stood up. Immediately, she was greeted by her bunk a few feet ahead... or what would be her bunk, underneath the mess Seychelles had left.
Instinctively, Argentina lifted a hand and smacked her own forehead, hoping a good rattle of her brain would make the disaster in front of her disappear. Argentina knew Seychelles was messy from the moment she arrived and made herself right at home, pouring luggage all across the top bunk that she had claimed... but this was absolutely ridiculous.
Tina found herself constantly cleaning up after her bunkmate. A pile of dresses sprawled out across the top bunk, hanging off the pole as though about to slip and fall right on the floor. Red ribbons were strewn like streamers, a few of them stuffed half-assedly underneath the mattress. Sandals were thrown across the floor to the point where Argentina had to step over them to keep herself from tripping. It was like a time bomb of clothes had gone off.
Argentina reached up and yanked one of the red ribbons from underneath the mattress like a dollar bill, examining it carefully. This one had been recently worn, as it had a few dark brown strands of hair clinging to it. Hadn't Seychelles at least cleaned the ribbons she used to tie her hair before throwing it on their bunk?
"Ché..." The girl simply shook her head like a disappointed parent and tossed the red ribbon over her shoulder, letting it flutter to the floor. If Seychelles really insisted on living in a pile of her own clothes, so be it. It would only be so long before she would get tired of it and clean up her own mess anyway... or, at least, so Argentina hoped.
An exasperated sigh let loose from Tina's lungs and she swung around, unable to look at the mess any longer. That was when a glint of red caught her eye... in fact, it was hard to miss hair that shade. Across the catwalk, Scotland was sitting on the floor in front of the bunk he and France shared. From afar, it was hard to tell what exactly the Scotsman was up to, so Tina decided to get a closer look.
She sauntered over to the man, trying not to seem too eager or interested. Stopping at his feet, Argentina's gaze shifted towards the glass bottles he had set down. Bottles of alcohol were lined up in a row. They somewhat reminded Tina of cadets of a military when greeting their superior.
"...What are you up to?" Argentina slipped in rather casually. Although, it was pretty clear what exactly Scotland was 'up to'.
(As I wrote "What are you up to?", I swear I immediately thought of, "I like trains".... if you don't know what I'm talking about, Adsf Movie explains everything.)
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Post by Scotland on Jul 23, 2012 10:15:24 GMT -5
He was pouring another glass when boots appeared in his line of sight, beyond his glass. He slowly lifted his head, eyes traveling up boots, grey trousers, to a set of hips that turned into a slender waist and upward to a pair of feminine assets in a button-up shirt before meeting Argentina's tourquoise gaze.
"Foos yer doos? /How are you?/" he asked as he looked back down to his glass, finishing the pour before holding the glass up in offering. "Do ye drink?"
While he might personally consider her one of the child nations, she definitely looked mature enough to be able to handle some of the strong stuff. With his free hand, he gestured at the bed, offering it as a seat. Ladies should always be offered a seat. He didn't have any chairs, or cushions, or even rocks to offer. So the bed it was.
[My only thought was to respond "I like toitles" or "I love lamp"]
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Post by Argentina on Jul 23, 2012 10:32:52 GMT -5
(I admit it; I laughed at that. I also laughed at "assets" again.)
Barely able to understand the Scottish slang, Tina just answered with her best guess at what he said, "I'm fine. Or... well, I was, before I saw the mess my bunk mate made..." Argentina raised an eyebrow as Scotland lifted a glass towards her expectantly. She gingerly held the glass and gratefully took a seat on the edge of the bed, where he had offered.
"Of course I drink," A purr escaped her lips as she stirred the liquid with the tip of her index finger. "You're looking at one of the biggest wine importers in the world." Just because she drinks, doesn't necessarily mean she can hold her liquor. Not that Tina ever notices or cares. In her own mind, she can drink as well as any of the other nations, after all.
Argentina took a small sip at first, and chills went up her spine at the taste of the bitter liquid against her tongue. It felt tingly at first, and a bit strange. As she took another sip, the bitter taste slowly subsided and it became easier to swallow. Tina lifted her gaze to Scotland again and sat silently for a few seconds before speaking up again. "Any reason why you're drinking here, alone... on the floor? Don't you have any usual drinking buddies or anything?"
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Post by mlpnkobnhjui on Jul 24, 2012 0:18:29 GMT -5
(( nations getting drunk? I must be a part of this! Do you mind if I join you? ))
Canada sat up in bed for the third time today. He had been trying to take a nap, but had been very unsuccessful. Everytime he had laid down, he just couldn't get to sleep. With a sigh, he stood up and stretched his legs. I guess it didn't help that he still had his clothes on, but he wasn't going to get dressed into something more comfortable when another nation could walk in on him at any moment. True, most likely it would be another guy, but he still didn't want anyone to see him changing, well everyone except for Norway, but he was an exception.
He heard talking over to his left and turned his head to see who could be talking up here. When he turned to look, he recognized Argentina, but he didn't quite know who the other country with bright red hair was. He seemed so familiar though, he knew that red hair from somewhere.
Curious about who Argentina could be talking to, and having nothing really better to do, He walked closer to them. When he reached the bunk that they were sitting next to, a light switched on in Canada's head. He remembered exactly who this was, it had to be Scotland, one of England's brothers.
"Hello Argentina, hello Scotland, what are you guys doing?" Although he could guess what they were doing, he still asked in order to be polite. There was bottles lined up against the bunk which they were sitting next to, and they weren't regular bottles. These were alcohol bottles.
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Post by [x] Norway on Jul 24, 2012 0:28:59 GMT -5
(I WANNA JOIN TO!!! X3)
The nordic sighed as he walked downstairs from his job on the roof. It had been another boring and a non exiting day as usual, but he guessed that he's rather have it boring then a zombie attach. He threw his shotgun over his shoulder and then he smelt it...alcohal. He sighed, he had missed that smell so much. He'd been around Denmark who had been in the alcohal drinks bussiness for along time. He looked over to were that wonderful smell was coming from and saw three countries there.
A red haired country who must be Scotland. Who else would have that mop of hair?There was also Argentina who he could recodnise in an instand and...Canada? Since when did Canada drink?! The Nordic country frowned and tried not to question it...after all no one was supposed to know about there relationship...Shaking his head and trying to go back to his emotionless self, he decided to walk over there and ask what was gong on with the drinks.
When he reached the table he sighed and said, "Got room for one more? I could use a drink after the day I've been having." Truthfully today wasnt to great for the nordic, he had bitten into a bad piece of fish for breakfest, lost his extra amo when he was going to his job and he was in the hot sun for about an hour. Yeah...a drink would be amazing at the moment.
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Post by Scotland on Jul 24, 2012 13:24:52 GMT -5
(You are all in! Welcome to the drinking!)
"Aye, I have drinkin' buddies. Now ye be one," he offered with a wry grin as he fished out another glass from the box under his bed that he'd dubbed as his luxuries when he packed it. As much as he'd wanted to bring his bagpipes as well, he'd been ordered not to bring them. Too noisy.
He was filling this second glass when he spotted another set of boots beyond, and his eyes followed them up to another familiar face. His favorite ex-colony. Or England's. Or still his, since they were the same kingdom. However one wanted to look at it.
"Canada, me lad!" he greeted with a raising of his glass. "Ye fancy a swally /a drink/? Sit a doon /down/!"
He looked at the portion of the rug beyond his feet, since Argentina had the bed, and well, the floor was fine for a guy. There was a rug there. Oh, a glass. He needed another glass. He started rummaging inside the box again, looking for the shot glasses he'd packed because they took up less space.
As he was rummaging, he heard another familiar voice and couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face. Now this was a very old friend. "Norway, auld china /old pal/! Always room fer ye! Sit a doon /down/!" He trusted Norway to figure out where to fit himself in.
Now he really needed those shot glasses. He rummaged faster and finally pulled out a few, setting them up between himself and the others, holding out the glass he'd filled towards Canada. Let the younger nations sip at their drinks. He and the Nordic would be fine with shots. He indicated the assortment of bottles by the edge of the bed, having not only a few types of whiskey, but vodka, gin and rum as well. "Pick yer poison."
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Post by Argentina on Jul 24, 2012 13:33:03 GMT -5
(Holy shit, we got two new people in one day inanfosn WHY DID I NOT SEE THIS UNTIL JUST NOW, WHEN SCOTLAND POSTED? Orz, I would've posted earlier...)
Argentina watched as Norway and Canada had arrived. It was nice to see Norway again. Tina remembered how ill he had fallen the first day, when all hell broke loose. She hadn't spoken much to him since, or rather at all.
Argentina raised her glass slightly and nodded in silent greeting before gulping down the last contents of her cupful. She leaned back on the mattress comfortably, crossing her legs one over the other. Clearly, she was perfectly contempt with making herself right at home in Scotland's bed.
"We're making a party out of this, aren't we?" She commented, flicking her finger at the tip of the glass with a small, echoing clang. "Looks like you got a new set of drinking buddies now, Scottie."
(Sorry this is so short, not much I can write right now other than a greeting. Canada and Norway aren't gonna get all lovey-dovey and leave Tina and Scottie to feel awkward, right? XD Ya two lovebirds~)
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Post by [x] Norway on Jul 24, 2012 13:34:58 GMT -5
Norway studied the drinks that Scotland had infront of him and looked back to his shot glass. It had been a while since he even drank, but he figured if he focused hard enough, his old habts would come back. Well, he hoped not all his old habits came back. He didnt want to be smashing all the bottles to the floor after he was done, cuss in his old language and start calling Argentina names that a girl should never be called...He wondered why the heck he was even a viking back then.
Finally shrugging his shoulders, he picked something that seemed familiar to him. It was definetly from Scandinavia he could tell from the smell, but he couldnt realy detect from what country. He was going with either Danish or Swedish. He poured some in the shot glass and chugged it all down.
The familiar burn of the drink burned his throat a bit but it settled nicely. He smiled and poured another. He missed that burn and smell so much. "Nice." he said as he once again chugged the drink one more time. He whiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked over to Scotland and said with a smirk, "You have a very nice vintage here." he started to feel a little weird, but he shugged it off as nothing.
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Post by mlpnkobnhjui on Jul 24, 2012 19:03:24 GMT -5
(( well, we wouldn't want Tina to feel left out now would we? ))
Canada sat down next to Scotland and accepted the glass that was held out in front of him. He couldn't remember the last time he had something to drink, and he had used to drink so often when he was younger. He had promised himself that he would never drink again, not after what happened last time. Then again, one drink couldn't hurt right?
Cautiously, he took a sip from the glass and almost immediately started to choke. He remembered that alcohol was supposed to burn when you drank it, but was it this much? If only they had some water, it hurt so much. Canada choked out "What is *cough* this stuff Scotland? *cough* It's really strong." He rubbed his throat, trying to get the burning sensation to disappear.
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Post by Scotland on Jul 25, 2012 10:53:50 GMT -5
Scotland beamed at Norway's compliment and Argentina's announcement of new drinking buddies as he poured his own shot of whiskey and then knocked it back in one burning swallow. When Canada started coughing, he leaned forward to slap the nation on the back in a rather rough burping assist.
"That be whiskey, lad. Tis th' lord's brew," he affirmed as he refilled his shot glass. "Ye been spoiled on French wine?"
While his alliance with France had been at its height, he'd also endulged heavily in French wine. It gave him a different kind of hangover, and its effects were stealthy, taking the rug out from under his feet all of a sudden instead of like liquor, which quickly felt like being enfolded and held in warm arms.
He held up the filled shot, taking a moment to present in the direction of each nation. "Ta auld friends, new friends, an' th' world after this zombie shite be sorted oot."
Unlike England, Scotland was a jovial drinker. Alcohol indicated a good time was being had. By all accounts it was better than being sober. He tipped back the shot, and then asked aloud to the three assembled: "what be the first thin' ye do when this all be over?"
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Post by [x] Norway on Jul 25, 2012 11:41:27 GMT -5
Norway gulped down another shot and sighed happily. The drinks were starting to make him feel fuzzy but it was a good fuzzy feeling. His head felt pretty light and he felt pretty like he was in a bubble. He noticed that Scotland asked him about what he'd do after this was all over.
Truthfully the nordic didnt really know what he wanted to do. Plus he never saw an end to this zombie apocolypse. He thought for a while and sighed. "Im gussing that Im going to hang up my gun and relax and probably indulge in splendid isolation...being around so many countries is weird...plus my bones are getting old..." he refilled his shot glass and drank another.
He looked over to Scotland and asked, "What about you? Are you going to Scotty?" he felt his body get lighter and he leaned on the table with his shot glass still full. He got a bit on his shirt and he grumbled and cussed a bit in his language.
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Post by Argentina on Jul 25, 2012 12:59:13 GMT -5
Argentina sat up and, with the heel of one foot, kicked off one military boot, then the other, setting them aside on the bed. She kept them where they'd be out of the way of the floor, where the others were seated. Tina set her glass down on the rug, silently asking for a second filling. In her opinion, a gentleman would refill the glass for the lady.
"I'm not sure I'll get the luxury of isolation. God knows how much longer this will go on, and how it will effect my country. Sure, my home and the rest of South America is semi-safe now... but who knows how long that'll last... Hell, I'm waiting for the day when I'll wake up in the morning in the warehouse, practically half-dead. Much like you were when all Hell broke loose, Norway." She shook her head with a sigh. "I'll probably end up spending the next couple of years rebuilding civilization in La República Argentina."
Raising an imaginary glass in hand (Since she was still waiting for her own to be refilled), Argentina spoke, "Here's to hoping to live another day. If Argentina still stands, I'll speak of nothing but kindness to England until the end of time. Cheers to society!"
Her tone was mockingly cheerful, and almost sarcastic, but was clearly not meant to be in a rude way. Tina was trying her best to make light of a bad situation. After all, with good whiskey, and good pals, there was no reason for any of them to act down.
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Post by mlpnkobnhjui on Jul 25, 2012 18:00:03 GMT -5
"I'm not spoiled." Complained Canada to himself, he certainly wasn't going to complain out loud after Scotland had been so nice to him. The whiskey had been strong though, much stronger than he remembered it being.
He answered "Well I guess I won't be going anywhere. I'll try and clean up my country, and hopefully my people can come home." That was the truth, no matter how depressing it was. It just wasn't in his nature to sugar coat anything. He was afraid that he wouldn't be able to rebuilt in time, that all of his citizens would leave him, all alone. He didn't want to be alone anymore. He wanted to keep the friends he had made at the warehouse. Of course, he wouldn't voice these fears out loud. He didn't need to be comforted, and they didn't need to know. Besides, no one liked a negative person. He might as well try to have at least a little fun.
He took another sip from the glass after the burning had subsided a little. The whiskey still hurt going down, but it started to get better the more he drank. His felt a slight dizziness in the head, even though he hadn't even finished one glass. He couldn't possibly get drunk so soon.
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Post by Scotland on Jul 26, 2012 4:39:41 GMT -5
Scotland listened to the plans of the other countries and absorbed each, refilling and lifting his shotglass at Argentina's toast. Once Argentina put her glass down, he refilled it with whiskey, whether she wanted more or not. The point during drinking was to keep the alcohol flowing.
"Aye, we all be good at rebuildin'," he added, staring at his glass with a bit of a wry grin. "Once this be all over...I'm gonna celebrate wit' a drink!" At that, he downed the glass, finding the burn had dulled a bit, instead just feeling warm and cozy inside, spreading from his belly outwards and up to his head.
"Then rebuild o' course," he added while he refilled his glass, spilling just a little due to the mouth of the bottle not wanting to line up just right with the small shot glass. He leaned back against the wall again with a pleased sigh. "We should write oor wishes doon, in case we ain't here when tis over."
He didn't mean to be a downer; he was just realistic. With their people falling to this plague like dominos, it was unrealistic to think every country would come out unscathed. "If I go doon, everybody have a drink fer me."
He downed the contents of the glass then. "Then somebody punch England in his wee eejit /little idiot/ face. Dunnae want him ta feel forgotten aboot."
He broke down into chuckles at that, still in good humor despite the morbid subject. He realized he'd have a lot of wishes on what was to be done with his land and his people should he become one of the eternally hungry undead. Then he realized while talk of possible death didn't bother him so much, the younger nations might be more sensitive about it. "What be th' first thing ye gonna eat when ye go home?"
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