(Untitled)

[nutty_russian]

[Who's that staggering wandering the halls at such a late hour, singing Red Army Choir songs at the top of his lungs, bottle in hand?

Just your friendly neighborhood drunk, Russia.]

Comments

fff I feel like I'm stalking you, but the muse won't let me ignore this xD

[cherishedscars]

[Do you need some help, there? Lithuania thinks you do, so he'll be over at your side soon enough, trying to pull one of your arms over his shoulders to offer support.

He knows his favourite nation well enough to tell when he might be losing his balance.]

[cherishedscars]

[... Oh. This could be great, or a disaster.]

Should I get that for you?

[He wants to help. He wants his hand there. But he's not sure if he's already being blamed for causing you to spill that, and how much more trouble he'll be in for trying anything.

Definitely waiting on an answer.]

[nutty_russian]

Just an accident. Will get it, da. [And he wipes it up with his scarf. What are napkins?]

[cherishedscars]

[... ... ...

He might be looking a little sad that he missed that chance.]

I'm so glad it's alright. But I understand if Russia wants more to drink to make up for that!

[Maybe reaching for another bottle. Kind of. Almost. Well, not really. His hand lowers to rest on the counter, for now. Holding one himself might make it noticeable that he still hasn't had anything yet.]

[nutty_russian]

Maybe a little, da. [And so he does just that, failing to notice that you haven't once touched the booze.]

[cherishedscars]

[Good, good, keep that up. He'll just be waiting. You have to lose your inhibitions eventually.]

[nutty_russian]

[After a moment he sets the bottle down with a yanw.]

I think I will go to bed, da. Have been drinking all night, and I need to get back to my son.

[cherishedscars]

[... No. That's. That's not fair at all.]

I'll help you back, okay?

[At least he can still try leading you the wrong way.]

[nutty_russian]

Alright. Thank you.

[He haphazardly caps the bottle and slides off the stool, only wavering slightly.]

[cherishedscars]

[So there is some hope! Carefully, carefully, he's going to move to support you, then start towards his own room.]

[nutty_russian]

[He doesn't even notice anything is amiss until he gets to your room. And realizes that it's not his.]

This isn't my room.

[cherishedscars]

[... Right. Having not expected to even get this far, he hadn't really thought the rest through. Time for excuses.]

You don't want to stumble in, drunk, to a child's room. This was closer; rest up here and I promise you can get back to him in the morning.

[Still going to attempt to lead you in.]

[nutty_russian]

No. Is late; I can't leave him until morning. He will be scared. [Starts to pull away from you.]

[cherishedscars]

[It won't work, will it? You're strong to start with. The Russia he knows, at least, can easily turn violent when drunk. And while Lithuania's not exactly scared of that... He's pretty sure it means any force on his part and you can escape even easier.

Fine, then.]

Then we'll go to your room. You can lead, even! Just let me make sure you get there safely.

[At the very least, he can attempt to find out which room is yours, can't he?]

[nutty_russian]

[For this Russia, it depends on his mood when he started drinking. Bad mood = violent. Good mood = happy drunk.]

Room is on eighth floor, da.

[He turns to leave, but then he remembers that he doesn't know where he is, or what floor he's on.]

Where am I?

[cherishedscars]

[It's lucky for you, though, that he doesn't know this. It's what keeps him from acting on the thought to lie about the floor. He's only going to reach over to hold your hand.]

We're not there-- [Aah why are you looking like you're about to head off on your own?] But, I don't think stairs are a good idea, [Unless of course you want Lithuania attempting to push you down them to get an excuse to take care of you after.] so let me take you to an elevator!

[Has he already thought of another plan? Is he really that desperate? ... Probably.]