Tour d'London [Jess]

[STEFAN STOJKOVIC, SERBIA]

Tags: London Muse: Good Outfit: Business attire with a dark overcoat and credentials Word Count: 755
Today is December 17 in the year 2011. This takes place in London, England. The time is 12:23 GMT and the weather is cloudy, wet, cold, windy.
Notes: Title sucks. I hope this is gives you enough to work off of. I’m still trying to figure out all the nuances of Stefan.

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The Balkan state was incredibly bored with the day’s committee session. He was forced to skip breakfast and he had run out of bread and raspberries to eat. He didn’t even have raspberry jam and alcohol was basically forbidden from committee. So, he was forced to sit there quietly with nothing to do except listen to other people ramble on about stuff which really didn’t affect him. The nation pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote a quick note on it. He leaned over and whispered a few directions to Vojvodina and handed her the folded paper, pointing in the direction of the receiver. He watched her get up to deliver the message and Serbia, as if nothing had happened, went back to taking notes on some of the speakers. He looked quite relieved when finally, another small nation he didn’t recognize, made a motion to suspend debate for the day. There were many ‘seconds’ and when procedural voting came around, Serbia made sure to vote, ‘in favor’. His assistant came rushing back with a reply message which she handed to the Serbian man. He quickly read it, crumpled it up, and threw it out. Vojvodina had a slightly appalled look on her face which Serbia ignored. “Here, take this and get yourself some lunch and then just explore. We can meet again this evening before dinner in the hotel room.” He handed her a substantial amount of cash and turned to leave.

He flipped through several messages on his cell phone, all of which were from his boss. They were rather boring, things like, ‘don’t spend too much money’, ‘keep the people’s best interests in mind’, ‘How on earth do you control your capital?!’, and ‘don’t start more wars, the world doesn’t need another one and Serbia will not go fight in the Middle East just so you have an excuse to blow something up’. He looked a little less sour at the last message. His boss was well aware that Serbia still had plenty of grudges and rivalries to settle and well, Serbia still thought of himself as a military state. He was quite proud of his armory and his military. The armory was a personal collection of weapons the Balkan nation had acquired over the centuries.

Everyone was filing out of the conference hall, some in small groups or three or four, others walked out alone, some were chatting happily with allies and assistants, but Serbia remained where he was. As hungry as he was, he didn’t want to eat. It had been forever since he’d last visited England and well, that didn’t completely count because he got lost finding the committee building. That was in May of 1913. His stomach finally getting the better of him, Serbia finally left and headed for the exit. British food was downright terrible, but at the very least, he could buy some imported cheese and packaged meat to eat. Maybe there were raspberries in London. Ah, that would be perfect. But first, he needed to get more brandy.

When he entered the hotel room he shared with Vojvodina, the Serb was slightly surprised to see her dressing up. “Are you going out to lunch with someone, Tina?” She replied enthusiastically about some cute British boy who asked her out. Serbia was pleased. He liked seeing the girl enjoy herself, free from the work that never failed to give nations nightmares and headaches. He walked over and helped his assistant pin her hair up with a silver barrette which had the Serbian coat of arms engraved on it. He dropped of his laptop for a much lighter backpack and a bottle of plum brandy. He hugged her and wished her well, reminding Vojvodina that she was his assistant first and foremost. The two parted for the afternoon.

Once outside with no direction as to the nearest restaurant or grocery store in London, Serbia started to realize how helplessly lost he was in the city. This was the price he paid for not wandering around London more often when he visited. Serbia didn’t even know where he could find a police officer to get directions from or even where he could get a map. There was only one place he might have some luck at—England’s house. The nation started walking the direction he thought the host country’s home was, but in reality, he was absolutely clueless. Serbia seriously hoped that there was someone who could give him good directions around London. Personifications were preferred, but anything was better than something.

Because it's impossible to fly,

[/color]
Without wind on your wings.

Through all of these years I've never been anything more,[/color]
Then yours truly.[/color]

Generally, she was not one to really think about getting to meetings, eating at a certain time, or anything else of the like. She left meeting and political stuff to England when she could, a lot of it confused her, to be honest. She wasn't dumb, per say, but she wasn't a genius either. She couldn't really keep up with some people, and German accents made her think of her time with Prussia, and she had mixed feelings about it. Though, that wasn't really a bad thing, or a bad memory. Today, though, there was some form of meeting, but she had to admit, she had skipped it. She'd hid out in her apartment, and she figured she was out of dodge when she never got a call, a rapping on her door, or anything. She smiled to herself, and she pulled herself out of the bed, where she had been hiding. She looked around, and she decided on Earl Gray tea for the morning.

She looked at her phone as it did go off. She froze, as though her phone would know she was there. Meeting must have been in a mild recess. She smiled lightly, bringing her cup to her face as she didn't answer. She was sick, obviously. She would have been around otherwise. Maybe. Sometimes. She sometimes made an appearance, then ran from the meeting during a recess. She smiled lightly, and she touched the screen of her phone to make the light go off. No time for that today, not right now.

She pulled herself together for the day, and she didn't know what to do with herself. She looked through her closet, and she decided on a cute little black dress, and she pulled some heels on, her first thought was rain boots, but the weather was better today. She was happy to see the sun, it had been a few days. Felt she might end up forgetting how the sun looked, jokingly thought of course, but regardless, this was England after all.

She pinned her hair up, and she downed the now cold tea. She skipped out of her apartment, and she moved out into the streets. She looked up around the hustle and bustle of the city, and she smiled, happy to see her city, as she always was. She was just a happy person, and a very happy city. Her town was lovely now, and everything was rather peaceful today. She looked up at the sky, and she winced as a rain drop hit her in the eye, and she thought it would rain, but it wouldn't rain, would it? She closed her eyes for a second, and she then opened them slowly, as it hadn't rained, and she figured it must have been just a stray drop, and she was thankful for it.

She kept moving, and she knocked shoulders as she walked. grabbing the person's arm to apologize as she did. She looked up, and she recognized someone she had known previously, and hadn't seen in ages. She smiled, turning whilst still holding the man's arm. "Well, I guess you either skipped the meeting like I did, or I missed the entire thing." She said with a grin. She didn't really say who she was, they'd met before, she just hoped he would remember.

[/center][/size]
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]
Tags: Open
Words: 727!
Outfit: Here
Muse:Paint it, White
Lyrics: Yours Truly - Paradise Fears
Time Frame: Present day
Credits: Me[/font][/size]

[STEFAN STOJKOVIC, SERBIA]

Tags: London Muse: Good Outfit: Business attire with a dark overcoat and credentials Word Count: 768
Today is December 17 in the year 2011. This takes place in London, England. The time is 12:25 GMT and the weather is cloudy, wet, cold, windy.
Notes: It's unusual for me to be able to pump out long posts so quickly.

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Serbia had completely lost himself in going over the past meeting. He refused to forget anything and meetings were included as much as he hated them. His cell phone started vibrating and yanked from his own personal musings, he pulled it out and glared at the screen like it was a monster rather than the phone he’d had since the last elections. The text message was from Belgrade and the capitol, merely to annoy the elder nation, had written it entirely in abbreviations, most of which Serbia couldn’t understand. What was worse, the message was in the English language and Stefan knew perfectly well that his capitol was fluent in Serbian and should be sending messages as such. The nation replied with a long winded message about using correct grammar, not using English, ending sentences with periods, and never to text him again in such a ‘childish manner’. He put the phone to sleep and resumed walking. The nation was completely and totally lost in the big city but didn’t seem to notice or care. Eventually he would find his bearings. Or so he hoped.

Reflecting on the meeting, Serbia still held on to a few opinions. First, Germans were insufferable and he still couldn’t forgive them for World War II even though it had been quite awhile since. Two, Austria was still more interested in music than war. Chopin does get old after a few decades. Third, Bosnia was only marginally more tolerable. One could blame the Serb’s boss for the improved feelings, though Serbia couldn’t really blame his brother for much anyways. Fourth, Slovenia was forgotten, again. Seriously, countries the size of postage stamps don’t get recognized especially when they get drowned out by certain louder nations. Fifth, note passing was a pain especially when some nations took it upon themselves to read notes not addressed to them. Sixth, world peace could not be achieved when Israel and Iran were separated by San Marino alone. There were many more opinions which had been confirmed, created, disproved, and corrected in the course of the morning meeting. Serbia wasn’t trying to start more wars at the present, but so long as no one directly insulted either himself or his family, the Balkan state could put up with the other nations. He had been graced with the presence of Belize and Bhutan to either side and didn’t have any reason declare war on them.

Along with reflecting on the meeting, Serbia sincerely hoped that Vojvodina was doing alright. He wanted to protect her like a good father, but ever chick must eventually learn to fly. There were just a few more days left of the meeting and then he could go back home and resume parental duties of protecting his province. Even though he didn’t trust Belgrade to get much work done, Serbia did trust his boss to keep Belgrade in line. The Serb planned on taking the boy out to drink when he got back.

When he looked up again, the Serb noted with discontent that he was walking in circles. He had passed the street earlier and it looked like he wasn’t going to be getting any farther. Still, nothing to do besides walk. Unless of course, one gets bumped into by a pedestrian (no surprise) and then grabbed by said pedestrian. His first instinct was to dislodge himself from the girl and continue on his way. That was true for only about a split second. Bingo. Okay, maybe it had been more than a couple years since the Serb had last seen or talked to London, but he still knew her voice. In a kinder manner than would have been expected from a military nation, Serbia did pry himself away from the girl. Touching was not okay in his book. Of course, he wasn’t one to be rude about it especially where the host city was concerned and well, he didn’t want to get kicked out of England by England for abusing the capitol. “The meeting’s been suspended for the day. The others should be out getting a midday meal.” Serbia was reluctant to mention that he was looking for a place to eat but had gotten helplessly lost in the process. He wasn’t about to admit that he hadn’t actually walked around London much since 1913. One could say that he had been busy in 98 years since. He made a quick adjustment to his route and turned towards what seemed to be a deserted back street, someplace he could think in private. If London decided to follow, that was her decision. Company wasn’t always a bad thing.

Because it's impossible to fly,

[/color]
Without wind on your wings.

Through all of these years I've never been anything more,[/color]
Then yours truly.[/color]

She went to meetings when Arthur would need her, but she hadn't today. She was...sick? She could sweet talk him to get him out of his grumpiness if he got mad at her. She never had a hard time getting out of things with him, she guessed it could be a blessing sometimes, he could be a real hardass about things, and she didn't like having people mad at her for any reason at all. She hated it really, it was one of the worst feelings in the entire world.

She did need to touch base with Arthur about the meeting though, something important could have been said there and she could have needed to know it. But she was too busy playing hookie to bother at this moment. She could be a flake about her duties sometimes, but no one was perfect, right? She knew she wasn't. She was sometimes too cheery for people to bother wanting to be around, but she didn't mean to be that way, she just usually was. She couldn't help it if she was happy. Happy was good, right? She had always thought it was.

Same old talker he had always been, she noted with a smile. She was grabbier then some nations cared for, but she didn't really care. She was just that way, seemed more personable to her, though some nations didn't like personable meetings. To each their own, she wouldn't hold it against someone. She smiled as he spoke, and she nodded, still stiff. She sort of wondered how he gotten all the way out here, and then he just was short with her, and walked off. She cocked her head to the side, and she walked after him, "Not much back this way, are you looking for something?" She asked with a smile, and a gentle tone. Didn't want to offend anyone, she wasn't America after all, being the asshole of the world was not her idea of a good time.

[/center][/size]
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]
Tags: Open
Words: 500!
Outfit: Here
Muse:Paint it, White
Lyrics: Yours Truly - Paradise Fears
Time Frame: Present day
Credits: Me[/font][/size]

[STEFAN STOJKOVIC, SERBIA]

Tags: Prussia Muse: Excellent Outfit: Business attire with a dark overcoat and credentials Word Count: 456
Today is December 17 in the year 2011. This takes place in London, England. The time is 12:25 GMT and the weather is cloudy, wet, cold, windy .
Notes: A bit short for me...

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In the year 1913, Serbia had gotten helplessly lost trying to find the building where he was supposed to work out a treaty to end the first Balkan Wars. Fed up with trying to read the map in English, Serbia had entered a small bakery and asked them to interpret the damn thing. In exchange for the help, the nation bought a couple loaves of bread which, as far as British cooking went, were actually rather good. Then again, the bakery was owned by a couple foreigners. From what memories Stefan had retained of that chance incidence, it would have been around this general area. Of course, things change in 98 years and he doubted that the little bakery was still around especially after London was bombed in WWII.

Serbia wasn’t surprised when London decided to follow him. It was much easier to talk to capitols away from the people. ”What the hell happened to you, Jess?! You’ve modernized since I last walked on these streets.” As for answering the capitol’s question, Stefan wasn’t totally sure as to how to explain it without sounding like an idiot. Of course the bakery no longer existed. That still didn’t mean he couldn’t try. Besides, the people he met should be dead by now, a harsh reminder of what it meant to essentially be immortal. He decided not to bring the bakery up in conversation.

”Two things. One, where are your foreign grocery stores? Two, how to get to England’s house from here?” The nation glanced around the alley as if something might be there, but turned up nothing. While Serbia was find working with the personification of London, he didn’t find the actual city nearly as attractive. The layout was confusing and it was too big, too modern.

Whether he liked it or not, Stefan was unsuccessful at getting the images of the day’s meeting out of his head. Several nations had valid points and te debate was good overall. There was still a small problem between Israel and Iran, but that was of no surprise. Pakistan and India looked ready to bomb each other as well and China once again tried to pacify everyone with food, something everyone declined. Rupublika Srpska was as annoying as ever and in response, Serbia moved a little closer to Ivan. Stefan had plans to talk to Bosnia and Herzegovina regarding RS’ behavior and not inviting him to the next meeting. Part of the meeting was also spent glaring at Croatia and trying to get close to Macedonia again. It felt like the loud nations were only getting louder and Serbia of course had nothing to say. All that was completely normal at committee. Old rivalries didn’t die and few new alliances were made.