Room 1A - America and Israel

[Michael Dayan]

Israel's expression loses some of its edge at America's acquiescence, and he's so totally relieved he's not going to have to be pissed twenty-four/seven because that's utterly mentally exhausting and kind of against his religious beliefs anyway. He doesn't actually want to be a nasty bitch, would really prefer not having to bust a cap in someone's ass every five seconds, so America abiding by his crazy rules would be advantageous for them both, overall. Avoiding mental breakdown and physical injury, respectively.

Satisfied with this new turn of events, he returns courteously to his side of the room in order to assist America in shoving the remainder of his useless crap back over the tape boundary. The end result being one seriously crowded half, and one… mostly barren. There's barely any visible floor on America's side, and it's none of his business what his room-mate does with any of his clutter, but Israel mulls the subject over anyway.

He's just about to point out that mounting a television on the ceiling will only lead to America's inevitable gory death, being crushed beneath it in the middle of the night, when he hears the distinctive sound of… scratching? Obscene panting? Could one of their floormates be watching inappropriate video content? He turns toward the sound, in slo-mo, and locks eyes with some creepy freak lurking just behind their dormitory window.

[Alfred F. Jones]

America hears nothing, of course, and doesn't quite notice anything, as he's too busy throwing clothes into his chest and closet haphazardly. He keeps finding pieces of his superheros and his heart breaks a little each time. Each piece he finds is lined up carefully on the bed along with matching pieces - maybe he'll be able to repair them at some point?

America is just about to step over the tape-line to fetch a stray Nerf ball on Israel's side of the room but almost trips over himself as he realizes that maybe Israel would prefer it if he didn't do that without asking? Or something? He'd rather not start another mini-war, no matter what people say it's not like he's militant or anything!

"Uh can I...?" America turns to look at Israel, one foot still in the air, just about to cross the line but not quite doing so. He shifts to regain his balance, then points at the ball.

[Francis Bonnefoy]

France felt his heart race when Israel looked at him in the eyes. So innocent, so shocked, definitely begging to be introduced to a new way of thinking. His tail -because, for some unknown reason, Francis was wearing a cat tail and ears- seemed to curl in pleasure when he caught sight of the young American nation. He could not help the pants that escaped his mouth - he always had such great taste when it came to choosing rooms! He leaned in a bit more, looking a lot like a wolf that has just spotted a couple of careless rabbits.

[Michael Dayan]

He continues to stare, nonplussed, at the strange naked man in their window even as America sets about organizing his things, 100% oblivious. He's not quite horrified, not quite curious, but rather some weird amalgam of both—and still, all he can do is stare. Even as, in the midst of his action figure mourning, America poses him a question; he doesn't even react for one long minute, just looks. And then he's glancing back at the other boy, out of the corner of his eye, and lifting one hand to point, again, yeah, all he seems to do is point, at their new guest. "Is this a typical greeting, in your country?"

[Alfred F. Jones]

America stands there with one foot in the air for a while. A long while. His foot with all the weight on it hurts a little, though, so he puts both feet on the floor and frowns - wait, what's that Israel's pointing to?

Alarm bells sound in America's head! RED ALERT! DANGER, WILL ROBINSON, DANGER! HELP ME, OBI-WAN KENOBI, YOU'RE MY ONLY HOPE! There's some kind of creepy person at their window and he's LEERING and he might be here to steal America's flatscreen TV or worse, put one of his belongings on Israel's side of the room, and that just can't happen!

America pulls a keychain from his jeans pocket. Attached to the keychain are several items: keys to the dorm room, keys to his car, keys of other varying types possibly including keys to the White House and Fort Knox and the Pentagon, but there is also a mini-Swiss army knife and a tiny spray-can of mace.

It's the mace that he now wields in the intruder's face, pushing Israel behind him so he doesn't come in contact with the spray. "PEEPING TOMS ARE NOT ALLOWED!" he says, very loudly, very authoritatively, slightly panicky. Like how you'd yell if your cat was about to pee on the carpet. He waves the mace threateningly.

[Francis Bonnefoy]

Francis found himself in quite an odd position, and not we're just not talking about the uncomfortable way he had to hold onto the wall so he wouldn't fall. No, now his prey- I mean, his subject of observation had noticed him and seemed to be threatening him. It was rather hard to understand, as the window was closed, but France knew a panicked face when he saw one. It was clear that he had to take drastic measures.

So, leering, he pulled out a camera (no one knows where he kept it and quite frankly, you don't want to investigate, do you?) and aimed it at America and Israel. Somewhere, at the distance, you can hear a Bon Jovi song(www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdH3tjOVuVI)

[Michael Dayan]

He plays along for now, allowing himself to be shoved back and behind America like a defenseless bear cub, content to observe the interaction between his 'valiant protector' and what America calls the 'peeping tom.' Judging by the strength of his reaction, naked people watching you through the window is just as odd and unwelcome here, in this country, as it would be back home. Good to know. What he doesn't understand is the practicality of an aerosol weapon against someone obviously protected by a thick pane of glass. Could it be highly corrosive? Only time would tell.

The intruder pulls something out from the depths of… wherever, and Israel can't quite tell what it is from his vantage point (just behind and over America's right shoulder) so he ducks down instead, letting America maintain his status as human meat shield as he pops his head out from his left side instead. He's adequate cover just in case non-lame and useless weapons get busted out; the bulk of him is enough to fit two Israels, easy.

But it's just a camera. What's a camera going to do? Unless it hid an IED. But that seemed unlikely at this point. "It appears he would like to take our picture." He hesitates, then drops some gang signs. 'Victory' was too cliché.

[Alfred F. Jones]

"I-I warned you, you weirdo!" America says, and when the flash goes off... well, his finger slips, and the pepper spray hits the window. While not corrosive enough to dissolve glass, some of the aerosol floats back right into his face.

...WHY WAS THERE GLASS THERE?!

"ACK!" America's eyes burn and thank god for his glasses blocking some of it, because even though the burning is making things unnecessarily difficult and painful, he can still sort of see and has enough HEROIC WILLPOWER AND DETERMINATION to open the closed window and spray the evil-doer for real before he can get another picture.

Down in a blaze of glory, indeed.

America grins and bears his still-burning eyes and, noticing Israel's pose, strikes one of his own - an I Just Saved The Day From Some Naked Window-Climbing Creep With A Camera pose, complete with a V for Victory sign for one hand, with the other resting on his hip. A true classic victory pose!

[Francis Bonnefoy]

France didn't stop to think why the young American hadn't opened the window. He kept taking pictures, drooling a little at the faces Israel was making, and doing his best not to fall in the process. He started to chuckle when America hurt himself in his confusion, moving the camera away from his face in the process... something he would regret seconds later.

His eyes started burning as the pepper spray reached them. He struggled, trying desperately to hold onto the edge of the window, but it was to no avail. Almost in slow motion, he started to fall, and fall, and fall until he reached the ground.

LUCKILY, they weren't that high up so he didn't get majorly hurt, although he was knocked out for a good half an hour. HOW GREAT! The camera, unfortunately, had been totaled.

(We cannot, however, say the same thing for the memory card)

[Michael Dayan]

The second the creepy voyeur disappears from sight, Israel's dashing to the window sill and glancing out and down and… he sighs, just sighs, at the sight of the unconscious pervert in the grass ten or so feet below. It's a disappointed sort of sigh, like he's upset his injuries aren't worse or there's no blood—whatever, that's kind of weird—but he gets over it fast and turns to America maybe half a minute later, contemplative. "You guarded our borders," he remarks, and he sounds almost… impressed. Definitely not awed. Just impressed. That's all.

Another couple minutes of intense consideration later, and he's offering America his hand again. "Michael Dayan, Israel."

[Alfred F. Jones]

Victory pose complete, America sneaks a quick peek out the window too, then promptly regrets it, because no one wants to see an unconscious naked Frenchman. EVER. Cringing a little, he turns to Israel and wipes his eyes, even though he knows that's not going to help. He should flush them with water, but later. Apparently, he is building foreign relations with this kind of crazy kid whose first line of diplomacy was to stomp all over his action figures and make him bleed.

Who'd have thought?

"Alfred F. Jones," he says once he's done rubbing his eyes to no avail, "America! And... sure, defending the borders, that's what I do!"

He doesn't mention the illegal immigrants coming over the Mexican border and coming in from Canada and Cuba. That's not the same, France wasn't coming to their room to do cheap labor that no one else wanted to do, after all, he was just being a perv. He just shakes Israel's hand, smiles... blinks some more.