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.
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*
Reply
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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