Pacing (OPEN)

[Alfred F. Jones]

America watched her through his blond lashes, sort of stuck in the same routine of conversation now with shrug, sigh, observe. He felt kinda like an ass at the moment and wasn't exactly sure why as it was simple nature they'd all done terrible things to each other at some point. He reached his arm out and clapped her on the shoulder softly, patting her twice before with drawing her hand.

"That's good, I always thought it was kind of stupid when we can no longer get along because of something years ago. Only things I remember like that is pushing Canada out of a tree and beating England a few times at throw the rock sports. You're somehow making me feel old," he laughed, clearly the younger one as he scratched at the back of his head. Alfred wasn't sure if he was scolding him for saying 'Commie' or just mentioning Prussia's name so he refrained from saying both again. The taller nation was ready to say something when visitors came through the door and he dropped silent, knowing when it was right to say things and when not around civilians. "Hey, I'm going to try and get some people to head out to the clubs tonight, you in?"

[Elizabeta Héderváry]

Hungary smiled, knowing that America hadn't meant any offense. Old? She couldn't help but laugh a bit at that one. "I'm older than you, so don't say that!" she said cheerily. "You'll make me feel old." Age certainly did creep up on her, Hungary realized, as she ran a hand through her brown hair. It seemed like just yesterday when she was America's age, but of course that was quite far from the truth.

She hadn't meant to scare Alfred when she'd gotten angry about his mentioning Prussia, but it seemed to have some effect on him. She'd snapped without realizing it and felt bad about it, but quickly released the remorse. It was good that people could get worried like that; it would teach Prussia to stay away from her. But, one would only expect scary things from a girl who wields a frying pan threateningly at others, so it shouldn't surprise her much that Alfred was being polite about the whole thing.

Then, he'd asked her about a club, or something. Hungary wasn't sure that she was able to hold liquor very well, as Austria had turned her into more of a lady and less of a tomboy. But, the tomboyish part of her personality made itself known as soon as America mentioned such a thing, and a challenging glint came to her green eyes. "Hell yeah, I'm in!" she said suddenly with a grin. "Sounds like fun!" Even as she said this, she couldn't help but feel that Alfred was about to say something to her before other people began wandering into the booth.

[Alfred F. Jones]

America snorted, laughing. Well, she really was sort of old than him. She looked exactly the same in the pictures as she did today - in the last few hundreds of years he'd grown up a bit, but that was sort of his thing with economic and political power. He kept the grin as she went on to accept his invitation.

"'ight, I'll get back to you on when we decide to leave. Haven't gotten around to asking too many yet," he admitted, but really, if he pestered anyone he could get them to give in and say yes. America never went drinking that often himself, maybe it was something of seeing England drunker than a skunk one too many times but. Someone would be considerate (maybe) and take him back to his room.

He turned on his heel patting his well stuffed stomach for a moment. "Well, thanks for the chow, it was really good, Eliza," he said in a good bye, unsure how to continue their conversation over all that. America glanced at the picture frame for a long hard moment before he tapped his knuckle softly against the glass. "England used to ask me whenever I was having issues deciding what to do or what laws were right. 'How do you think they feel about that?' The only thing it ever succeeded in was making me feel guilty as hell."

Without another word the young nation turned and left, pushing his chair in along the way and disappearing through the front door.