The Fairest of...the G8
anonymous
August 11 2010, 12:41:26 UTC
So I was gonna include a ton of nations but then I started going into why everyone was picking who they’re picking, and, uh, gosh it is so long already. So here, have G8 + South Italy + Prussia! Sorry this has slightly strayed, OP.
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There were two boxes at the head of the G8 Conference table, from what Germany could see. One large, wrapped one, and a smaller one filled with little electronic devices.
Germany had been the first to enter the room, the voices of Prussia, Italy, and...America (maybe?) filtering in through the open door. It was a loud voice, but it didn’t sound like Italy’s brother. Plus, Germany didn’t hear anything breaking. Supposedly Romano was still angry with Gilbert, for...now that he thought about it, Germany had no idea what had happened. It was probably better that he didn’t.
“Make that two large boxes and a letter,” he amended, looking over the paper that was perched atop the large box.
The other nations filed in, peering curiously at the box. Germany thought they would be crowded around asking questions, but he belatedly realized that they thought the boxes were his.
Once everyone was seated (totally out of order, to Germany’s discomfort - his moving to the head of the table had forced everyone to re-shuffle) he picked up the paper, cleared his throat, and read:
“The gift in this box is for the fairest one of all. Who is the most beautiful in the room? It’s up to you to decide. To play: - grab the remote with your name on it - type in your vote by country name and press “enter” - once all votes are in, a message will be sent to all devices with the winner - the door out has been locked”
At this, England, closest to the door, gave it a yank - it stayed put. Facial expressions varied from alarmed, confused, to totally apathetic.
“ - it will remain locked until all votes are in - you can’t vote for yourself - this is why all the remotes are named”
After bit of blame-throwing, chair-throwing, tantrum-throwing, general panic, yelling, and mayhem, all of the nations had settled down with their respective devices in silence.
---
Italy didn’t even have to think about his choice - not that he normally thought things through, really. He was always one to go by instinct, heart, the “feel” of something. So he smiled down at his device, typed “Germany,” and then alternated between openly watching the other nations and drawing whatever came to mind on the back of his notes.
---
Romano could give less of a shit about this. Why was he here again? He heaved a sigh and looked around the room at the other nations. Okay, so, the fairest of them all. If one took that literally, then, well, Prussia was the winner by a long shot. And Prussia was a fairly attractive man, if Romano was honest with himself. Luckily, Romano was good at avoiding that last one. On top of that, come on, Potato Bastard’s brother? Finally, he was still pretty pissed about the time Prussia had walked in on him and that hot chick from the espresso bar - thus his gaze continued around the room.
A shaft of sunlight filtered through the window and had backlit Japan. He really was quite striking, Romano thought, straight line of spine and subdued monochrome color only serving to highlight his quiet strength, grace, hidden artistry.
Some half-formed thought flickered through Romano’s mind - the two shared something in that, artists who went unseen by the rest of the world - and without letting it go to completion, he typed in “Japan”.
---
Japan had somehow ended up seated between France and England. He was surrounded by European nations at a meeting (basically) full of European nations. Internally he sighed, though on the outside there was simply a change in the light in his eyes.
Re: The Fairest of...the G8
anonymous
August 11 2010, 13:03:12 UTC
Oh hey, I love all the details as Romano looks around the room, and his reasons for choosing Japan were interesting and unexpected. :Db (And sitting between France and England? Poor Japan; he's going to end up half-deaf, isn't he? XD)
... Fuck, I just realized you're almost certainly still posting.
---
There were two boxes at the head of the G8 Conference table, from what Germany could see. One large, wrapped one, and a smaller one filled with little electronic devices.
Germany had been the first to enter the room, the voices of Prussia, Italy, and...America (maybe?) filtering in through the open door. It was a loud voice, but it didn’t sound like Italy’s brother. Plus, Germany didn’t hear anything breaking. Supposedly Romano was still angry with Gilbert, for...now that he thought about it, Germany had no idea what had happened. It was probably better that he didn’t.
“Make that two large boxes and a letter,” he amended, looking over the paper that was perched atop the large box.
The other nations filed in, peering curiously at the box. Germany thought they would be crowded around asking questions, but he belatedly realized that they thought the boxes were his.
Once everyone was seated (totally out of order, to Germany’s discomfort - his moving to the head of the table had forced everyone to re-shuffle) he picked up the paper, cleared his throat, and read:
“The gift in this box is for the fairest one of all. Who is the most beautiful in the room? It’s up to you to decide.
To play:
- grab the remote with your name on it
- type in your vote by country name and press “enter”
- once all votes are in, a message will be sent to all devices with the winner
- the door out has been locked”
At this, England, closest to the door, gave it a yank - it stayed put. Facial expressions varied from alarmed, confused, to totally apathetic.
“ - it will remain locked until all votes are in
- you can’t vote for yourself - this is why all the remotes are named”
After bit of blame-throwing, chair-throwing, tantrum-throwing, general panic, yelling, and mayhem, all of the nations had settled down with their respective devices in silence.
---
Italy didn’t even have to think about his choice - not that he normally thought things through, really. He was always one to go by instinct, heart, the “feel” of something. So he smiled down at his device, typed “Germany,” and then alternated between openly watching the other nations and drawing whatever came to mind on the back of his notes.
---
Romano could give less of a shit about this. Why was he here again? He heaved a sigh and looked around the room at the other nations. Okay, so, the fairest of them all. If one took that literally, then, well, Prussia was the winner by a long shot. And Prussia was a fairly attractive man, if Romano was honest with himself. Luckily, Romano was good at avoiding that last one. On top of that, come on, Potato Bastard’s brother? Finally, he was still pretty pissed about the time Prussia had walked in on him and that hot chick from the espresso bar - thus his gaze continued around the room.
A shaft of sunlight filtered through the window and had backlit Japan. He really was quite striking, Romano thought, straight line of spine and subdued monochrome color only serving to highlight his quiet strength, grace, hidden artistry.
Some half-formed thought flickered through Romano’s mind - the two shared something in that, artists who went unseen by the rest of the world - and without letting it go to completion, he typed in “Japan”.
---
Japan had somehow ended up seated between France and England. He was surrounded by European nations at a meeting (basically) full of European nations. Internally he sighed, though on the outside there was simply a change in the light in his eyes.
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... Fuck, I just realized you're almost certainly still posting.
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