New location, New people, New enemies. (Molossia)

[[x] Romania]

Alin, after tracking down his rather sparse amount of luggage, was trying to find his bunk. Now to a regular person, that may not be difficult. But considering that every bunk looked basically the same except for the small nameplates on the beds, he had to look at each set of bunks. Which meant, including the occupied ones, about 50 of them.

Not fun.

Readjusting his black-and-white-stripped backpack, he continued on, growing more and more frustrated with every bunk that didn’t have his names on it. Alin soon reached the last beds, the ones with hardly any decoration or blankets. They were, obviously, military style. They looked uninhabited. Except for the third-to-last one, which had a bag sitting by the floor.

‘That must be my bunkmate’ Alin thought, wondering who exactly it would be. Heading towards the bed in question, he smirked slightly.

‘This’ll be fun’

[[x] Molossia]

Molossia had left for but one minute - one measly minute, honest! - only to return and find another young man, hurrying over to the bunk Molossia had claimed with a brand of grace that Molossia couldn't quite put his finger on. All he knew was that someone was aiming to get dangerously close to his bunk. And his luggage. Glass of water from the kitchen in hand, Molossia nearly spat out a mouthful of the cool liquid, and choked as he forced himself to swallow.

"OI!" Molossia called over to the "attacker", going into a defensive, hostile stance. "YA BEST STAY WELL AWAY FROM MY SHI-" The micronation caught himself, "...STUFF! G-got that?!" Molossia chugged down the last of the water and threw the styrofoam cup to the floor. He pulled back his foot and stomped down on the now-empty cup, crushing it underneath his heavy boot. It was as though he had something to prove, like perhaps his masculinity. He was fortunate not to be caught with his pants down (metaphorically) like he had with America in the greenhouse.

Molossia was the alpha male. He wasn't going to let anyone think otherwise of him.

As the angered, red-faced man was about to stomp over to Romania, it was lucky enough that he saw the backpack that was slung over his shoulder, on his back. A bag of luggage that wasn't his, as Molossia's unopened bag clearly stated "DO NOT TOUCH", and was laying on its side in front of the bottom bunk. Molossia's expression shifted to one more of surprise, and he stood there, waiting for the man directly three yards across from him to explain himself.

Molossia hadn't been expecting to have a... well, a bunkmate. Then again, he hadn't bothered to check the nameplate for any other titles other than his own.

[[x] Romania]

((I read that like, five times before I found myself able to reply to it's awesomeness))

Romania lifted one eye at the taller male, half-annoyed-half-happy. At least his bunkmate had turned out to be interesting. Even if the first thing the man did was yell at him. For touching his stuff.

That he hadn't even been within breathing distance of yet.

The man- he wasn't bothered to know his name- seemed to know be standing a little awkwardly now.

"I wouldn't touch your shit if Nicolae Ceausescu payed me ten thousand leu to do so. It's quite...." Alin took another look at the man's 'luggage'

"Smelly,"

Now he was just baiting the male, and he knew it. But he hadn't had a good argument since Austria ditched him, so the blonde didn't care that much. He was just itching to throw insults around.

[[x] Molossia]

(Th-that was an 'awesome' post? ;w; Thank you, then~)

Smelly?

Molossia's luggage was 'smelly'? Just the word made Molossia twitch as it slid off Romania's tongue.

Now Romania was pushing it. He was really, really pushing it. Just when Molossia had been considering calming down a bit, since there was no sense in starting shit with someone you are going to be sharing a bed with for what could possibly be a good few years, too.

Molossia gave a great step forward, then another, then another, until he was right up in Romania's face, glaring down at him. His nose was but an inch away from his, to give an idea of just how close he was. Without thinking, Molossia reached out and snatched Romania's collar, his nails digging into the fabric. He would and could lift Romania up and off the catwalk's floor, if he felt like it.

The corners of his mouth turned up in a crooked, annoyed smirk. "Why don't you say that when I'm right here in front of you?" Molossia hissed between tightly-clenched teeth. Behind his darkly-tinted shades, blue eyes glinted impatiently.

In all honesty, Molossia didn't want to punch Romania. Though he may put up a tough front, the micronation wasn't one to enjoy starting physical fights with people unless they threw the first punch. Not to say that he wouldn't knock someone's teeth out if they pushed him to that point.

(Didn't want to make Molossia lift Romania up, because I figured that would be godmodding. I kinda think I'm pushing it as it is, but you can probably get Romania to pull away, or even kick Molossia if you wanted to~ c:)

[[x] Romania]

(That it was, that it was~)

Alin wasn’t intimidated. Hell, he was almost enjoying this. No, that’s a lie. He was positively delighted at the prospect of a real fight. Not those wimpy ones he’d had with Austria about tea, which always ended in one of them dumping the tea over the other person’s head. This was nothing compared to the days of his empire.

It was however, unexpected when the other man practically dragged him off his feet by his collar. While he knew he could win in a verbal spat against basically anyone (Except maybe Hungary, or Bulgaria), physical fights were a different story. He had no idea how powerful the mysterious blond was or if he was trained in any specific arts.

Which made the idea of a fight even more appealing.

So instead of doing what any normal person-country- would do, he spat in the guys face. “
Oh, so I guess you couldn’t hear way up there? Your. Luggage. Is. Smelly,” Alin punctuated each word, hitting the vowels at the end sharply, Romania braced himself to be thrown somewhere. Getting in a fight with you bunk mate on the day you arrived, now that was interesting.

He was differently going to enjoy this.

(Eh, I honestly don't care. It makes it funner and easier to reply back to a post if the other person has done something to you~)

[[x] Molossia]

Romania spat in his eye.

Romania just had to SPIT. IN. HIS. EYE. And he knew that wouldn't go over well with Molossia, which is most-likely why he did it.

There was no hiding the redness in Molossia's face. If it were only physically possible, one would even see steam radiating from the young micronation's face. He looked about ready to pop a vein, nostrils flaring like an enraged bull.

Instead of throwing Romania, however, Molossia dropped him back down onto his feet. He slapped his hand to his own face and wiped the saliva off of his eyelid. "Yer.. y-yer not fuckin' worth it..." Molossia sneered. However, anyone could see that this statement just wasn't true.

The one thing Molossia wanted more than anything was to tear his own shirt off and tackle Romania to the floor. Punch that smug look off his face - get into a real fight. Not like that petty hand-in-hand skipping he had done with his fellow American micronation, Eastport, just the day before.

Yeah.. he let Eastport win that time. Of course he did! No real man would lose to some kid who looked no more than 14 years old. The only thing that kept him from beating the shit out of Eastport that time was America, who had become to referee and made sure that he was ready to intervene if things got too serious.

Molossia pushed his hand forward and dug his middle finger into Romania's chest like a dagger and leaned in close again. "You listen to me, Short-stack. Don't you ever touch my shit - ever."