((fndsjn. I must apologize for taking a million years. I had a really bad writer's block, and I still have it, but I managed to work through it to at least squeeze out this next part. I hope it's not too short and stinkish. ;n; The next part should be ions better! ))
"Make that two more rounds of beer!"
The sound of Prussia's voice sounded out above almost every voice in the entire bar, and Denmark found himself nodding and laughing loudly in agreement, while Germany sat at the end of the table, chuckling and rolling his eyes.
"Who do you suppose is paying for all of this beer!?" Denmark exclaimed, staring at his empty mug, "I think I've downed about... " The Dane paused as though he was trying to think of a specific number "...A lot of these!"
"I bet you've had over a hundred!" Prussia exclaimed, waving his hands excitedly as two more mugs were placed in front of both him and Denmark.
"This is your last round you two, or else I'm going to be carrying you home..." Germany looked at his own glass, tapping his fingers lightly against the glass. Denmark was happy that it was Germany's day to the be the responsible one, because he hasn't exactly gotten the most pleasant of goodbyes when he left the house earlier in the day, and Norway especially almost seemed to glare at the excitable Dane as walked by.
"Awww, come on, the other guys never let me drink this much!" Denmark exclaimed.
In fact, the more Mathias thought about it...the more he realized that Norway had been giving him the cold shoulder the entire day. And it definitely wasn't his usual cold shoulder either. Usually Norway gave him a simple look of indifference or just completely ignored it, and only shot him glares when he said something stupid. This time it seemed that Norway didn't even want them to be in the same room, and anytime Denmark got near him, he would glare and mutter something under his breath before leaving the room.
Denmark suddenly found himself staring hopelessly at his glass while Prussia quickly downed his. The invasion of those thoughts seemed to sober him up a bit, or at the very least, they made him somber.
"Hey Mathias! You haven't finished ye--"
Prussia looked at the Dane, as well as his glass of beer that was sitting on the bar counter getting warm.
"What’s with the change in mood?!" The Prussian asked, placing his glass on the tabletop, "What are you not supposed'ta be here?!"
"No, it’s not that... It’s that the others wouldn't talk to me at all yesterday really. I don't know what’s wrong with them..." Denmark couldn't think of a single thing he had possibly done wrong.
Germany let out a little cough, causing Denmark to turn towards him.
"Perhaps they don't like all these meetings we've been having together."
"Well that's just silly..." Mathias huffed, "They know I love--"
Just then, Mathias heard the sound of someone busting into the bar. He narrowed his eyes slowly and looked towards the source of the commotion.
A large man had burst into the bar. He was tall, probably around six foot five, and Mathias swore his body was the size of a barge. He had a rather snarly look etched into his face as he scanned the bar and its patrons, grunting slightly when his eyes wandered upon Denmark sitting with Prussia and Germany at a small booth near the bar. He then brushed a tuft of his oily black hair out his face, before he began to barrel through the bar like a brazen bull until he reached the booth of the group.
Nordics- The Attack at the Bar [Pt. 2(a)- ??]
"Make that two more rounds of beer!"
The sound of Prussia's voice sounded out above almost every voice in the entire bar, and Denmark found himself nodding and laughing loudly in agreement, while Germany sat at the end of the table, chuckling and rolling his eyes.
"Who do you suppose is paying for all of this beer!?" Denmark exclaimed, staring at his empty mug, "I think I've downed about... " The Dane paused as though he was trying to think of a specific number "...A lot of these!"
"I bet you've had over a hundred!" Prussia exclaimed, waving his hands excitedly as two more mugs were placed in front of both him and Denmark.
"This is your last round you two, or else I'm going to be carrying you home..." Germany looked at his own glass, tapping his fingers lightly against the glass. Denmark was happy that it was Germany's day to the be the responsible one, because he hasn't exactly gotten the most pleasant of goodbyes when he left the house earlier in the day, and Norway especially almost seemed to glare at the excitable Dane as walked by.
"Awww, come on, the other guys never let me drink this much!" Denmark exclaimed.
In fact, the more Mathias thought about it...the more he realized that Norway had been giving him the cold shoulder the entire day. And it definitely wasn't his usual cold shoulder either. Usually Norway gave him a simple look of indifference or just completely ignored it, and only shot him glares when he said something stupid. This time it seemed that Norway didn't even want them to be in the same room, and anytime Denmark got near him, he would glare and mutter something under his breath before leaving the room.
Denmark suddenly found himself staring hopelessly at his glass while Prussia quickly downed his. The invasion of those thoughts seemed to sober him up a bit, or at the very least, they made him somber.
"Hey Mathias! You haven't finished ye--"
Prussia looked at the Dane, as well as his glass of beer that was sitting on the bar counter getting warm.
"What’s with the change in mood?!" The Prussian asked, placing his glass on the tabletop, "What are you not supposed'ta be here?!"
"No, it’s not that... It’s that the others wouldn't talk to me at all yesterday really. I don't know what’s wrong with them..." Denmark couldn't think of a single thing he had possibly done wrong.
Germany let out a little cough, causing Denmark to turn towards him.
"Perhaps they don't like all these meetings we've been having together."
"Well that's just silly..." Mathias huffed, "They know I love--"
Just then, Mathias heard the sound of someone busting into the bar. He narrowed his eyes slowly and looked towards the source of the commotion.
A large man had burst into the bar. He was tall, probably around six foot five, and Mathias swore his body was the size of a barge. He had a rather snarly look etched into his face as he scanned the bar and its patrons, grunting slightly when his eyes wandered upon Denmark sitting with Prussia and Germany at a small booth near the bar. He then brushed a tuft of his oily black hair out his face, before he began to barrel through the bar like a brazen bull until he reached the booth of the group.
Denmark looked up at him slowly, and blinked.