The Case of the Missing Doodle [1/?]
anonymous
August 3 2009, 15:31:30 UTC
This is author!anon's first time writing Norway. I know he's supposed to be a little frantic, I just hope I haven't made him TOO out of character D:
8:00 AM.
The alarm blared in his room and awoke Norway with a jolt. Groggily, the Scandinavian rubbed his eyes and rolled out of bed, taking his hat with him.
He followed through with his daily routine as normal. Take a shower, blow-dry his hair and add the clips. It was only when he was washing his face and became less bleary-eyed that he realized it.
It was gone.
His...his DOODLE. It was gone!
Norway examined the side of his head, searching. His doodle usually hovered over his ear, maybe it had gotten lost in his hair when he was showering? He searched the hair there - no, nothing. Where could his doodle have possibly gotten to? He slapped things on his sink, feeling around for where the piece of hair could have went, but he felt no keratin beneath his fingers. "Oh, faen, he muttered.
Norway proceeded to scour his bed. That was the only other place he had been that day, so it had to be there, right? He looked under his sheets, in his pillowcase - no, nothing. Maybe it had fallen off and landed in his hat? He opened his hat - still nothing.
He did have to get dressed - maybe his doodle had fallen off at some point when he was getting ready for bed? He scoured his closet for any sign of the hair curl as he got dressed in his usual sailor uniform - no, not there either. Where could it have gone?
The kitchen. Did it fall somewhere in there at some point yesterday? After cooking a well balanced meal for himself, he began to search the floor on all fours much like a dog - his rear end waving in the air. Bad idea, he thought to himself as he lowered his posterior - it was very much like Denmark to barge in, as he sometimes did, and if he saw him in that sort of position, the Dane would never let him live it down. Still no doodle. The usually calm man's face turned itself into a sort of scowl.
10 AM now. He uttered the Norwegian curse again. If he didn't leave now, he'd be late for the meeting. Stupid world. Stupid meetings. He bet that he would be ridiculed at it - who on Earth would be so stupid as to lose their DOODLE, for crying out loud? Then again, he was the only one whose doodle wasn't literally attached to their head, but still! Even North Italy wouldn't be that stupid.
He sat on the bus that would take him to Oslo, where the meeting was being held. That infuriating song of America's was playing on the radio - something about a small town girl and a city boy. Why did he keep hearing this song EVERYWHERE all of a sudden? It had to be at least thirty years old! He looked over to the side of his head where his doodle usually hovered. The air above his ear felt so empty. Poor, sweet doodle. It was probably so alone and cold in...wherever it was...
Norway burst through the door of the conference room with much more enthusiasm than usual - the meeting had not even begun yet and it was still assembling. He spoke with a hint of panic in his usually collected voice - "Has anyone seen my doodle?"
A silence fell over the room. England looked up from the paper he was reading to Norway. "Sorry...your...doodle?"
Norway nodded. "My doodle." He made a gesture to the air above his ear, drawing a curlicue with his fingers.
"I believe Norway-san is referring to his ahoge." Japan made a gesture above his ear similar to what Norway had done earlier. "The protruding hair curl that exists on many nations - the Italy brothers, America, Austria and South Korea, for example."
"Yes, that." Norway nodded. "My doodle. Has anyone happened to have seen it?"
Almost everyone shook their head, save for Denmark, who was looking out the window and therefore not paying attention to anything the Norwegian nation had said. Norway sighed and sat down in his usual seat - between Denmark's and Iceland's - ready to hear whatever hare-brained scheme America had set up this time.
Re: The Case of the Missing Doodle [1/?]
anonymous
August 3 2009, 15:49:23 UTC
Oh anon, this is great! I love that he calls it a 'doodle'. And that he's the only one who doesn't actually have it attatched to their head. xD loling forever here. Can't wait for more. : D
Oh, this is awesome so far!~ I think you got Norway's personality right, as well; while he still had that "frantic" air about him, he wasn't over-the-top, and still did things like make meals before searching the kitchen, etc, which seems very IC for him. X3
And I echo the love that is him calling his haircurl a doodle XD It's such a cute way of putting it, and in my headcanon he has a hobby in art.~
Thank you, anon <333 I wasn't sure how to write Norway, so I asked a lot of friends, and...it appears I'm doing pretty well :D Thanks for the compliments <33
Aww! Artist!Norway is actually pretty adorable <33 Question, though - do you mind/like DenNor?
The Case of the Missing Doodle [2/?]
anonymous
August 12 2009, 17:43:26 UTC
Anon apologizes if this part is not very good, I had a difficult time writing it D:
Midway through America and Russia's fight about whether America should become one with him (which was peppered with "Isn't that right, Lithuania~?"s, "Latvia loves it too, da?" and nothing about Estonia, as usual), Norway had found himself stirring from his usual mid-America's speech rant. It was a pleasurable stirring, but a stirring nonetheless. He blushed a little - no. This could not happen in a meeting - but it was nice- dammit, Norway, pull yourself together! A soft sigh managed to escape his lips before he braced them shut and pinned his head to the table. Why was this happening? He certainly wasn't doing it, that was for sure. The only way that this could be happening was - that was it. Someone in THIS ROOM had kidnapped his doodle while he was sleeping. They had to be in this room, as if they were too far away, he doubted he would get reception. ...wait, reception? Why was he thinking about his doodle in cell phone terms?
Norway managed to excuse himself from the meeting (by now, it had turned into a squabbling match between all the former Allied Powers) to take a short trip to the bathroom.
Upon returning, America decided to call recess on the meeting to take a lunch break (after all, his hamburgers WERE getting cold). Sweden and Finland took this opportunity to tend to Sealand, who had been banging on the door for a good hour during the meeting, demanding to be let in - after all, he was a 'real nation'. Norway decided to use his time wisely to try and figure out who had stolen his doodle.
He made a quick list - who would be devious enough to actually STEAL his doodle? There was England, but lord knows he would never admit to doing something like that. Maybe back during his pirate days, yes, but never now. Australia and Denmark were both mischevious - Prussia, too, actually. The three of them were way too loud and boisterous - not to mention slightly stupid - to ever keep a secret, though. Australia would accidentally mention it in conversation and that would just ruin it from there. Denmark and Prussia, who had even bigger mouths than Australia, would probably wave it around proudly like some sort of trophy, announcing their stake to everyone.
Japan might take it, since he supposedly did have some...strange tendencies when behind closed doors, but he had the way of the ninja behind him, no one would ever find out. There were so many possibilities, but for some reason, Norway could only think negatively about the whole situation.
Norway silently placed his head on the table, frustrated. At this rate, the mystery would never be solved - and nations began to pile into the conference room again. He heard a familiar voice - a tiny British accent, asking yet again to be let into the conference room, but placed outside with all the other micronations. Norway sighed and attempted to fall asleep again so he didn't have to think about both his current dilemma or the stupid argument that was most likely about to occur.
Re: The Case of the Missing Doodle [2/?]
anonymous
August 12 2009, 22:18:04 UTC
Awwwwwwww~ Norway!!! Lol, thinking in cell phone terms... xDDDDDDDD So far it's going good, and anon is glad to see an update. Yay! Anon is curious who stole it and can't wait to read the next part!
The Case of the Missing Doodle [3/?]
anonymous
August 13 2009, 04:06:29 UTC
Writernon apologizing for the TyPiNg like that in this part, it was the only way I could figure out how to convey what it looked like to Norway D:
He realized a short while after Iceland roused him from his ongoing nap session that he had not used the provided lunch break to its intended purpose - to actually get something to eat. He began to walk to a sandwich shop he knew of in the area to order an open faced sandwich - Snøfrisk and red bell pepper, his usual. He walked through the shop and picked up a bottle of water to drink with it. He decided to order it for takeout and eat it when he got back to his house.
Walking up to the counter, he cleared his throat and began to speak to the clerk. "Yes, I'd like an - nnhhh!" Norway raised his eyebrow - there was that feeling again, someone was manipulating his doodle! That pervert. He decided to shrug it off as an accident and began to order again. "An open f-faced sandwiich with snnngh..." Norway began to blush deeply and made as appalled of a face as one of his demeanor could possibly make.
The young clerk - a girl on summer break for college - looked bewildered. "Are you alright, sir?" Her accent was terrible - Norway could tell she was an exchange student.
Norway shook his head no. "E-Excuse me, miss, I-I've...decided I don't want anything right now..." The nation attempted to excuse himself from the line with the least amount of attention attracted to himself possible, returned his water bottle to its rightful place, and made his way to the bus stop as unceremoniously as possible. The fact that he was attempting to do this completely without making any strange noises - and for the most part, succeeding, was a wonder.
When he finally arrived home, Norway decided to make his favorite sandwich for himself. He began to pull the peppers and goat cheese out of the fridge when he felt the pleasurable yet unwanted stimulation begin between his legs once again. He grumbled, attempting to ignore it, until the feelings became less than ignorable, and proceeded to excuse himself - in his own home, no doubt - to the bathroom. That, however, didn't help much at all, since a few minutes after he emerged from the restroom, the stirring began again. Norway groaned - half frustrated and half aroused - this was getting ridiculous. The only way he would be able to escape from this for the time being would be...what could he do? There was always to become drunk, but there were the repercussions that would come afterwards - Norway had yet ANOTHER world meeting in the morning, and he had no desire to experience a hangover during one of those. America's stupid ranting was torture enough. He wondered what he had ever done to deserve that until he began to blush again, the sensation between his legs making the outcome of that even more pronounced. If he wasn't going to get drunk...sleep. He could always sleep, that was a good idea. The mysterious nation staggered up the stairs, attempting to ignore what was happening to him.
When he awoke from his nap, he attempted to ignore the sticky mess that had appeared quite suddenly in his pants and on his bedsheet by changing the sheets and his pants - he would wash them later. This meant war. There was a doodle out there that needed to be found, stat, but first, dinner needed to be eaten.
He walked down the stairs to attempt to make his sandwich again, reaching up to get the bread from the cupboard. When he opened it, he found an envelope which wasn't usually there. Confused, he picked it out and opened it.
Inside was a plain piece of white computer paper, which had little pieces of paper haphazardly glued onto it. It seemed as if the sender had hastily created it and paid no attention at all to detail. The paper was covered in magazine clippings of letters of all shapes and sizes, and read:
i HaVe YoUr DoOdLe. If YoU wAnT iT bAcK, cOmE tO tHe OsLo CeNtRaL sTaTiOn At 10:00 BeFoRe ThE wOrLd MeEtInG tOmOrRoW.
Re: The Case of the Missing Doodle [3/?]
anonymous
August 14 2009, 03:25:37 UTC
There was a doodle out there that needed to be found, stat, but first, dinner needed to be eaten.
You deserve a prize for this line, author!anon. Stat. Reading this was in itself a prize; a surprise if I may... the best kind of prize there is. GEDDIT? *brick'd*
The Case of the Missing Doodle [4a/?]
anonymous
August 20 2009, 06:11:04 UTC
World meeting, hmm, that definitely narrowed it down. If the author knew about the world meetings, that meant that his doodle's captor had to have been either a nation or one of their bosses. Bosses. He shuddered at the thought, skeeved a bit of the idea. All their bosses...for the most part, anyway, were gross and wrinkly. Gross. To think one of them had stolen his doodle and was now using it for their own...salacious purposes, now that was just disgusting. The thought of that sickened him. To have a nation steal it - that was not much better, but at least it was someone he knew. Wait - someone he knew? That would just complicate things and make it awkward for the both of them when it came time for his doodle to finally be returned! The Scandinavian man sighed. The possible outcomes of the situation were completely unappealing.
Worst of all, the nation who actually TOOK his doodle could be an unappealing person as well! Someone like...Denmark! Or Prus- wait, he went over this already. Then again, they might have some ulterior motives behind this, and who knew, maybe the two of them had intelligent bones in their bodies after all...this was getting tougher. What if it was someone unassuming or who didn't know the effects, like Sealand? The little boy never knew what he was getting himself into when he attempted to deal with nations - after all, the child could hardly be called a nation, anyway. He only had four citizens. Or...even worse, someone dear to him, like...Iceland? Iceland was like a little brother to him, if he was just fiddling with the new trinket he found (unknowing that it was actually his poor, poor doodle) and found out the effects it had on him, the poor boy could be scarred for life.
Norway sighed and attempted to make his sandwich again - thankfully, without interruptions this time, and decided to go to bed for real. The problem would hopefully be solved in the morning.
When he awoke, Norway felt the air over his ear, grasping at the blank space. "Damn," he muttered. It really wasn't a dream - his doodle really WAS missing. This whole situation could only end badly - that he knew.
Norway followed his usual routine, once again sans-doodle. He walked a few blocks down to the bus stop, but instead of taking the route that would bring him to the meeting hall, he took one that would drop him off closer to Oslo Central Station.
Walking down the block where it was situated, he attempted to look for someone - anyone - he knew, wondering who it could possibly be.
The Case of the Missing Doodle [4b/?]
anonymous
August 20 2009, 06:24:33 UTC
And then he saw her.
It was a beautiful young lady. She looked like she couldn't be a day over twenty five - but Norway knew that she had been around for much, much longer than that. Her brown hair was long and was adorned with a simple pink flower, and her green eyes were full of life, even though they had seen many battles. She had a kind face, but Norway was not decieved by that, as he knew that under her friendly demeanor, she could throttle an army of a thousand men before breakfast and then still have enough energy for a second round.
The woman was known as Hungary, and strangely enough, was one of the last people that Norway would have expected to steal his doodle.
He practically ran up to her - she raised an eyebrow, as she rarely ever saw the man do anything but walk calmly, and spoke sternly to her. "Why did you steal my doodle, and how?"
She gave a lilted laugh and shook her head. "I didn't. I'm just a messenger."
Norway's face remained calm, but on the inside, he was infuriated. "You're a...messenger?"
"Yes. There's not much time, but the kidnapper wanted me to give you this. It's your second lead." She smiled and bent down, picking up a large nondescript box.
"My lead?" What was he now, a detective?
"Yes, that's what they called it." Norway noticed how she didn't use a gender-specific pronoun. The girl was crafty, for one thing. "I don't know what it is, but it should help you to get to your next objective." The entire thing was beginning to sound like some sort of secret agent's mission.
"Well...alright, then." Norway was a bit flabbergasted at the entire situation.
"We have to get going now, so we won't be late. Good luck on your search, Norway!" She smiled a little bit and began to walk in the direction of the conference hall, her skirt flowing in the wind.
Norway peeked inside the box, anticipating some strange and obscure clue that would take him months to figure out.
8:00 AM.
The alarm blared in his room and awoke Norway with a jolt. Groggily, the Scandinavian rubbed his eyes and rolled out of bed, taking his hat with him.
He followed through with his daily routine as normal. Take a shower, blow-dry his hair and add the clips. It was only when he was washing his face and became less bleary-eyed that he realized it.
It was gone.
His...his DOODLE. It was gone!
Norway examined the side of his head, searching. His doodle usually hovered over his ear, maybe it had gotten lost in his hair when he was showering? He searched the hair there - no, nothing. Where could his doodle have possibly gotten to? He slapped things on his sink, feeling around for where the piece of hair could have went, but he felt no keratin beneath his fingers. "Oh, faen, he muttered.
Norway proceeded to scour his bed. That was the only other place he had been that day, so it had to be there, right? He looked under his sheets, in his pillowcase - no, nothing. Maybe it had fallen off and landed in his hat? He opened his hat - still nothing.
He did have to get dressed - maybe his doodle had fallen off at some point when he was getting ready for bed? He scoured his closet for any sign of the hair curl as he got dressed in his usual sailor uniform - no, not there either. Where could it have gone?
The kitchen. Did it fall somewhere in there at some point yesterday? After cooking a well balanced meal for himself, he began to search the floor on all fours much like a dog - his rear end waving in the air. Bad idea, he thought to himself as he lowered his posterior - it was very much like Denmark to barge in, as he sometimes did, and if he saw him in that sort of position, the Dane would never let him live it down. Still no doodle. The usually calm man's face turned itself into a sort of scowl.
10 AM now. He uttered the Norwegian curse again. If he didn't leave now, he'd be late for the meeting. Stupid world. Stupid meetings. He bet that he would be ridiculed at it - who on Earth would be so stupid as to lose their DOODLE, for crying out loud? Then again, he was the only one whose doodle wasn't literally attached to their head, but still! Even North Italy wouldn't be that stupid.
He sat on the bus that would take him to Oslo, where the meeting was being held. That infuriating song of America's was playing on the radio - something about a small town girl and a city boy. Why did he keep hearing this song EVERYWHERE all of a sudden? It had to be at least thirty years old! He looked over to the side of his head where his doodle usually hovered. The air above his ear felt so empty. Poor, sweet doodle. It was probably so alone and cold in...wherever it was...
Norway burst through the door of the conference room with much more enthusiasm than usual - the meeting had not even begun yet and it was still assembling. He spoke with a hint of panic in his usually collected voice - "Has anyone seen my doodle?"
A silence fell over the room. England looked up from the paper he was reading to Norway. "Sorry...your...doodle?"
Norway nodded. "My doodle." He made a gesture to the air above his ear, drawing a curlicue with his fingers.
"I believe Norway-san is referring to his ahoge." Japan made a gesture above his ear similar to what Norway had done earlier. "The protruding hair curl that exists on many nations - the Italy brothers, America, Austria and South Korea, for example."
"Yes, that." Norway nodded. "My doodle. Has anyone happened to have seen it?"
Almost everyone shook their head, save for Denmark, who was looking out the window and therefore not paying attention to anything the Norwegian nation had said. Norway sighed and sat down in his usual seat - between Denmark's and Iceland's - ready to hear whatever hare-brained scheme America had set up this time.
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I'll post some more when I get back from work!
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And I echo the love that is him calling his haircurl a doodle XD It's such a cute way of putting it, and in my headcanon he has a hobby in art.~
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Aww! Artist!Norway is actually pretty adorable <33 Question, though - do you mind/like DenNor?
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Midway through America and Russia's fight about whether America should become one with him (which was peppered with "Isn't that right, Lithuania~?"s, "Latvia loves it too, da?" and nothing about Estonia, as usual), Norway had found himself stirring from his usual mid-America's speech rant. It was a pleasurable stirring, but a stirring nonetheless. He blushed a little - no. This could not happen in a meeting - but it was nice- dammit, Norway, pull yourself together! A soft sigh managed to escape his lips before he braced them shut and pinned his head to the table. Why was this happening? He certainly wasn't doing it, that was for sure. The only way that this could be happening was - that was it. Someone in THIS ROOM had kidnapped his doodle while he was sleeping. They had to be in this room, as if they were too far away, he doubted he would get reception. ...wait, reception? Why was he thinking about his doodle in cell phone terms?
Norway managed to excuse himself from the meeting (by now, it had turned into a squabbling match between all the former Allied Powers) to take a short trip to the bathroom.
Upon returning, America decided to call recess on the meeting to take a lunch break (after all, his hamburgers WERE getting cold). Sweden and Finland took this opportunity to tend to Sealand, who had been banging on the door for a good hour during the meeting, demanding to be let in - after all, he was a 'real nation'. Norway decided to use his time wisely to try and figure out who had stolen his doodle.
He made a quick list - who would be devious enough to actually STEAL his doodle? There was England, but lord knows he would never admit to doing something like that. Maybe back during his pirate days, yes, but never now. Australia and Denmark were both mischevious - Prussia, too, actually. The three of them were way too loud and boisterous - not to mention slightly stupid - to ever keep a secret, though. Australia would accidentally mention it in conversation and that would just ruin it from there. Denmark and Prussia, who had even bigger mouths than Australia, would probably wave it around proudly like some sort of trophy, announcing their stake to everyone.
Japan might take it, since he supposedly did have some...strange tendencies when behind closed doors, but he had the way of the ninja behind him, no one would ever find out. There were so many possibilities, but for some reason, Norway could only think negatively about the whole situation.
Norway silently placed his head on the table, frustrated. At this rate, the mystery would never be solved - and nations began to pile into the conference room again. He heard a familiar voice - a tiny British accent, asking yet again to be let into the conference room, but placed outside with all the other micronations. Norway sighed and attempted to fall asleep again so he didn't have to think about both his current dilemma or the stupid argument that was most likely about to occur.
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... Though. ... It couldn't have been Sealand? Surely not? SuFin aren't that bad at parenting.
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Great job so far, writernon!~ I can't wait to see how Norway goes about solving the mystery, and to see who the culprit is XD
~OP
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He realized a short while after Iceland roused him from his ongoing nap session that he had not used the provided lunch break to its intended purpose - to actually get something to eat. He began to walk to a sandwich shop he knew of in the area to order an open faced sandwich - Snøfrisk and red bell pepper, his usual. He walked through the shop and picked up a bottle of water to drink with it. He decided to order it for takeout and eat it when he got back to his house.
Walking up to the counter, he cleared his throat and began to speak to the clerk. "Yes, I'd like an - nnhhh!" Norway raised his eyebrow - there was that feeling again, someone was manipulating his doodle! That pervert. He decided to shrug it off as an accident and began to order again. "An open f-faced sandwiich with snnngh..." Norway began to blush deeply and made as appalled of a face as one of his demeanor could possibly make.
The young clerk - a girl on summer break for college - looked bewildered. "Are you alright, sir?" Her accent was terrible - Norway could tell she was an exchange student.
Norway shook his head no. "E-Excuse me, miss, I-I've...decided I don't want anything right now..." The nation attempted to excuse himself from the line with the least amount of attention attracted to himself possible, returned his water bottle to its rightful place, and made his way to the bus stop as unceremoniously as possible. The fact that he was attempting to do this completely without making any strange noises - and for the most part, succeeding, was a wonder.
When he finally arrived home, Norway decided to make his favorite sandwich for himself. He began to pull the peppers and goat cheese out of the fridge when he felt the pleasurable yet unwanted stimulation begin between his legs once again. He grumbled, attempting to ignore it, until the feelings became less than ignorable, and proceeded to excuse himself - in his own home, no doubt - to the bathroom. That, however, didn't help much at all, since a few minutes after he emerged from the restroom, the stirring began again. Norway groaned - half frustrated and half aroused - this was getting ridiculous. The only way he would be able to escape from this for the time being would be...what could he do? There was always to become drunk, but there were the repercussions that would come afterwards - Norway had yet ANOTHER world meeting in the morning, and he had no desire to experience a hangover during one of those. America's stupid ranting was torture enough. He wondered what he had ever done to deserve that until he began to blush again, the sensation between his legs making the outcome of that even more pronounced. If he wasn't going to get drunk...sleep. He could always sleep, that was a good idea. The mysterious nation staggered up the stairs, attempting to ignore what was happening to him.
When he awoke from his nap, he attempted to ignore the sticky mess that had appeared quite suddenly in his pants and on his bedsheet by changing the sheets and his pants - he would wash them later. This meant war. There was a doodle out there that needed to be found, stat, but first, dinner needed to be eaten.
He walked down the stairs to attempt to make his sandwich again, reaching up to get the bread from the cupboard. When he opened it, he found an envelope which wasn't usually there. Confused, he picked it out and opened it.
Inside was a plain piece of white computer paper, which had little pieces of paper haphazardly glued onto it. It seemed as if the sender had hastily created it and paid no attention at all to detail. The paper was covered in magazine clippings of letters of all shapes and sizes, and read:
i HaVe YoUr DoOdLe. If YoU wAnT iT bAcK, cOmE tO tHe OsLo CeNtRaL sTaTiOn At 10:00 BeFoRe ThE wOrLd MeEtInG tOmOrRoW.
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Waiting for the next part.
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You deserve a prize for this line, author!anon. Stat. Reading this was in itself a prize; a surprise if I may... the best kind of prize there is. GEDDIT? *brick'd*
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Worst of all, the nation who actually TOOK his doodle could be an unappealing person as well! Someone like...Denmark! Or Prus- wait, he went over this already. Then again, they might have some ulterior motives behind this, and who knew, maybe the two of them had intelligent bones in their bodies after all...this was getting tougher. What if it was someone unassuming or who didn't know the effects, like Sealand? The little boy never knew what he was getting himself into when he attempted to deal with nations - after all, the child could hardly be called a nation, anyway. He only had four citizens. Or...even worse, someone dear to him, like...Iceland? Iceland was like a little brother to him, if he was just fiddling with the new trinket he found (unknowing that it was actually his poor, poor doodle) and found out the effects it had on him, the poor boy could be scarred for life.
Norway sighed and attempted to make his sandwich again - thankfully, without interruptions this time, and decided to go to bed for real. The problem would hopefully be solved in the morning.
When he awoke, Norway felt the air over his ear, grasping at the blank space. "Damn," he muttered. It really wasn't a dream - his doodle really WAS missing. This whole situation could only end badly - that he knew.
Norway followed his usual routine, once again sans-doodle. He walked a few blocks down to the bus stop, but instead of taking the route that would bring him to the meeting hall, he took one that would drop him off closer to Oslo Central Station.
Walking down the block where it was situated, he attempted to look for someone - anyone - he knew, wondering who it could possibly be.
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It was a beautiful young lady. She looked like she couldn't be a day over twenty five - but Norway knew that she had been around for much, much longer than that. Her brown hair was long and was adorned with a simple pink flower, and her green eyes were full of life, even though they had seen many battles. She had a kind face, but Norway was not decieved by that, as he knew that under her friendly demeanor, she could throttle an army of a thousand men before breakfast and then still have enough energy for a second round.
The woman was known as Hungary, and strangely enough, was one of the last people that Norway would have expected to steal his doodle.
He practically ran up to her - she raised an eyebrow, as she rarely ever saw the man do anything but walk calmly, and spoke sternly to her. "Why did you steal my doodle, and how?"
She gave a lilted laugh and shook her head. "I didn't. I'm just a messenger."
Norway's face remained calm, but on the inside, he was infuriated. "You're a...messenger?"
"Yes. There's not much time, but the kidnapper wanted me to give you this. It's your second lead." She smiled and bent down, picking up a large nondescript box.
"My lead?" What was he now, a detective?
"Yes, that's what they called it." Norway noticed how she didn't use a gender-specific pronoun. The girl was crafty, for one thing. "I don't know what it is, but it should help you to get to your next objective." The entire thing was beginning to sound like some sort of secret agent's mission.
"Well...alright, then." Norway was a bit flabbergasted at the entire situation.
"We have to get going now, so we won't be late. Good luck on your search, Norway!" She smiled a little bit and began to walk in the direction of the conference hall, her skirt flowing in the wind.
Norway peeked inside the box, anticipating some strange and obscure clue that would take him months to figure out.
Inside, he found a jigsaw puzzle.
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Poor Norway, getting his hopes raised.
Looking forward to more.
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