With the help of his faithful servents, the "lover" of the world set up the last bottle of red wine on a long, filled buffet table. He sighed, and wiped off sweat that wasn't there. Mainly it was the maids who set up all the food and decorations. Even the giant tree, decorated in authentic ornaments and twinkling lights, in the corner of the large ballroom that France had made for the occasion. This year it was his turn to hold the Christmas Party, so he went all out to make it the best. He even made a rule chart, outside the doors, which read:

1) You must have formal attire to attend.
2) You must bring in at least ONE gift for someone else.
3) Sadly, No inappropriate or sexual actions.
4) Only countries may attend.
5) The main course is to be served later in the process of the party, so don't fill up on snacks.
6) You must have an invitation to enter.
7) Have fun!
NOTE: Dancing will occur at the party. It is not mandatory, but come prepared anyways.
Your host,
Francis Bonnefoy.

Even the table was all out magnificent. There were many flavors, qualities, and strengths of alcohol all in their appropriate glasses were set up closest to the host's door. That took up at least one quarter of the table. Dips, breads, crackers, and other entrées came next, which took up about one quarter as well. Little deserts were beside that, which was mainly chocolate, but there was small pies, cheesecakes and other deserts which were all stuffed with fresh fruits and other tasty treats. That was the third quarter. And last, but not least, the left over space was dedicated to presents, which was already covered. Yes. France bought everyone a present.

I'm just going to leave the room up to your imagination, but let me tell you, it's quite remarkable.

"Je suis fini!" he cheered, flipping his hair in the process. Francis brushed a little piece of lint off his black tuxedo, and sat in a nearby lounge chair in a "sit and chat" area. Now, all the Frenchie needed to do was wait for the first guest.

A head poked around the corner of the doorway. It was Germany. "Fancy; I'll give you that, France.." he murmured, and stepped into the room. He headed to the many assortments of alcohol, and observed the brands. He truly is a grandchild of Rome, I see.


Outside, in the lightly snow-painted grass of France's perfect yard, Russia was approaching the house. When he entered, he read the directions on his card, not having been in France's house before. Down the twisting hallways and passing the countless statues and art pieces, he came to the room. There were rules outside the doors, and he scanned over them quickly. "No sexual actions.. A little bit hypocritical, da?" He strode reluctantly through the opened doors, and spotted Germany and France already there. Ivan stepped towards the desserts, and looked them over.
I really hope Belarus isn't here..

"Prepare for awesomeness!" someone screeched.
Gilbert burst through the doors, ignoring that there has been rules posted outside. He was dressed in tuxedo, identical to Germany's, aside form being white, while Ludwig's was a blueish-black. Prussia hopped on over to Germany, and leaned an elbow on his left shoulder. "Guten Abend, West! I see you like the alcohol Francey here put out!" He began to laugh, gulping down a glass of wine. It wouldn't be long until he got tipsy.

OOC: I'm gonna bring Rome in at the end. :D

"Pastaaa~" a voice said, and Italy floated into the house, a vacant look on his face. He looked over at the two Germans by the alcohol. "Oh, hi, Prussia!" he called, waving. "Hi, um, Germany."

OOC: THIS IS NOT HINTING AT GERITA. SEE GERMANY'S DREAM TOPIC.

*shot*

Germany took an awkward glance at Italy, and then glared at his brother. "Prussia.. Must you get drunk every opportunity you get?" he muttered.

Russia tentatively picked up a croussant, and nibbled it. Cream cheese filled the center. He turned to France. "Very nice touch with the smetana," he called.

"Ahhh, bonjour mon ami! Et Allemagne de l'Ouest... Are you enjoying it so far? Oh merci Russie." he called loudly, over some starting music, adding a wink at the end. The music got a little louder at could be clarified as slow Christmas music all in French. Just then, the next guest entered.

"I'm sorry for being late. It took me a while to find the right clothes." apologized Japan, pointing to his white tuxedo, which looked much like his regular clothes. He dropped off his presents along with the rest of them, and went over to entrées, picking up a small sushi plate that was there.

can we all post on one account? eue i'm too lazy to switch.

A shape flashed through the doorway, diving behind the nearest table. "Think they could have a party without me, huh?" this small body mused, "Well, we'll just see about that..." A small head popped out of behind the furniture, dirty blonde hair combed down with curious blue eyes flicking about.

"Your clothes don't blend in with the tables." Evelia walked in after the young boy's ninja moment, a small smile on her face. "Nice job, though, you're in..." Her hair was swept into a bun and wore a long purple dress with a loose flow.

"You always 'gotta spoil my fun, huh?" Peter huffed, standing up and brushing stray dirt off his arm, wearing a bright, sailor blue tuxedo.

Laura smirked and walked over, flicking the boy teasingly with her fingers. Oh~ You'll get over it." She then scanned the desert table, out of pure instinct, she could only pray that they had jell-o.

Ooc: Okay I guess. I have to go so I'll post tomorrow.

Suddenly, a voice came from the doorway.
"Now, Sealand.. Please try to contain yourself." In came Sweden, with a checkered sweater vest and a tucked-in red tie. He headed towards the hors d'oeuvre table and peered curiously at some escargot. Why do the French eat snails? the country wondered. Despite his lack of emotion, Berwald was slightly disgusted.

Denmark marched in after Sweden, for once without his ax. He wen straight for the entrées, and took a plate-full of randomly assorted foods. He glanced at Prussia, breaking a grin. "How ya been?"

Clarcili bounced in just after Denmark, her curl flying as she set her present down, and went to look at the rules. Reading Rule Number Three, she bounced over to her old caretaker and glomped Francis from behind. "Bonjour, grande fratello!" she said, grinning at him.

Italy nodded to acknowledge Germany, and spotted Clarcili hugging France. "Ciao, Clarcili!" he called, waving to her.

"AHAHAHAHA!" a loud laugh issued from outside, and Scotland bounced into the house, holding a bottle of Scotch and dragging Britain behind him. "We're here!" he yelled, as Nessie slid up behind him.

Britain rolled his eyes. "Shut up already."

Sealand's Expression = le huff. >:I

"This will be so much fun!" Finland exclaimed in a child-like way, a radiant look on his face. This was great! His favorite night of the year. The country shuffled in behind Sweden, carrying an unnaturally large bag over his shoulder. He was dressed in a bright red and white santa suit... with a little bow-tie for the situation! "Though I can't stay very long, I brought presents for everyone!"

"OH OH OH OH OHH! SANTA! SANTAAAAAAA!" Sealand came running in at extreme speed, tackling his "mother-for-all-intensive-purposes" to the ground.
"Oh, lol~ What would you like for Christmas little boy?"
"Please, please, please! I just would like to be acknowledged as a country!"
"Ho ho ho! Sealand, Miracles can happen, but you're just gonna have to keep on dreaming~."
" ;3; bawwwwwwwwwwww."

Roderich walked into the room quietly, fixing the cuffs on his wrists, he was wearing an appropriate dark blue tuxedo, a small present held between his arm and his waist.

"Ahhh...bonjour ma petite soeur..." Francis laughed, using all his strength to not "hug" Clarcili back. He noticed his old enemy come in just then, and thought of an excuse to get away from the little island.

"Excuse me... I need to talk to England." he whispered, pushed his little "sister" off him gently, and went over to Britain.

"Act like you are talking to me." he said, waving his hands around as if he was explaining something. Maybe if he was around the tea-loving maniac, he would feel less of an urge to "have fun".

"What?" Britain raised an eyebrow, and looked over at the rules. Seeing Rule Number Three, he grinned. "Ahh." he said triumphantly. "I see." He laughed, nodding his head. "The poor frog can't go around groping people tonight."