"I feel like something bad is going to happen. . ."

Hands shaking, Russia turned to America, violet eyes nearly glowing against the shadows on his face. An insane grin accented his visage, as the giant would stand. He placed the vodka bottle back on the table, loud and firmly. Gloved hands tightened into fists, then unclenched, as he dashed for America-
making an attempt to pin him to the wall.
If he had Alfred against the wall, Russia would whisper innocently, "You are crazy, you know that, da?"

They were too different!... Unless... Unless America caved in, and became one with Mother Russia, there was little that could be done to change that.

Alfred dodged the dash, kindasorta expecting it. I mean, really, they were kindasorta rivals, still, y'know?! He felt a little pissed, but he squashed it down. This was more important! "HEY, HEY, DON'T DESTROY MATTIE'S HOUSE! ...It's not like I expect you to fee the same, stupid commie." He huffed and pouted a little bit, feeling a little down but refusing to show it.

Russia froze, glaring for a moment as the insult was thrown. His grin would faulter, but only for a second, before he ran over to America. "Then lets go play outside, da?" He said, calm tone clashing with the sadistic intent on his face.

Gloved hands clenched and unclenched, as Russia reached for his lovely metal faucet, the one he got from Germany so long ago. "Ah, or is the capitalist too selfish to give me a few minutes of his time?"

Canada was actually a bit happy Al was thinking of the house, but when he saw the Russian reach for the pipe, he jumped to his feet, dropping Kumajirou. Running inbetween the two, he glanced from Al to Ivan. "G-Guys, please, don't fight! Try talking this out! There is no reason to bring unecessary bloodshed into this!"

Smiling, Russia stopped when Canada interveined. "Ah, but I was not going to hurt him..." His weapon was mearly a show of power. He could bring Al down with a snap of his finger, and he just wanted to be sure that the american knew that.
He looked back to Alfred, grin remaining. "We are not fighting, da?" He said, still too innocently toned to seem sane. His hands remained clenched, smile plastered on his face.

"Nah, we're not fighting yet." America huffed. He wasn't afraid of Russia-- he knew he could take him down if he had to. Did that mean he wanted to? No. He stretched his arms upwards, loosening the tension building in his back and arms. He'd just known spilling his guts was a bad idea-- there was no way Russia felt the same, so he shoulda just kept watching from a distance... But it was in his nature to try, even if his attempt failed. "Yeah, okay, I better get goin' before somebody starts sending me annoying messages on my phone."

America's face looked almost stoic with his attempt to keep his disappointment inside-- after all, it had seemed like they were starting to get along again after all those years of fighting... Clearly he'd been mistaken. Once a vindictive commie jerkface, always a vindictive commie jerkface, he supposed.

Ivan kept in his sudden urge to laugh, of course Alfred wanted to leave, now that they were finally talking again. How long has it been since their last competition, since the last time they struggled together- and against eachother? Apparently, not long enough for Russia to really relax.

He didn't want the capitalist to leave- it was too much fun! It was still such a shame that Alfred would let his children play in the streets like dogs while the rich lined their pockets off the sweat of others. Some things would just never change- no matter how much either of them wanted to be friends.

And though he'd never admit it, Russia did in fact want to be friends...

"Net, you can stay! Just turn your phone off, and chat with us," His smile remained, eyes remaining open as he watched Alfred. "Like real friends, da!"

Ivan bit his lower lip- attempting to keep himself from muttering 'kolkolkolkolkolkol'. So far, it was working.

America shoved his hands in his pockets, biting the inside of his cheek. He really didn't want to stick around and let his gut shred itself any farther... But oh, was that invitation tempting... Oh wait, he had all that work at home that needed to get done, that was an excellent excuse. "Nnnngh. As awesome as that sounds, I'd really better get going. Got a buncha paperwork at home that's not doing itself." He let out a hollow laugh, not really feeling it. He turned his back and headed for the door.

Russia smirked, then ran straight after Alfred once he turned his back. How dare he try to put an end to this play date? Just because he embarrassed himself a little? Wasn't America stronger than that?
... Wasn't Ivan?

Without pause, he would go to tackle Alfred, arms wrapping around his belly so he could throw him off balance. If successful, he would tackle America to the ground, and flip him onto his back.

Just so Russia could sit on him. Yes, sit on him, to keep him from going anywhere.

"Then you should have done that work before you came here, da?"

Staring at Alfred, Ivan began to mutter something... over and over again.

"Kolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkol..."

Naturally, Alfred wasn't expecting this and was summarily tackled and sat upon. "OOOF---" At least he managed to cushion his face with his arms, so his nose DIDN'T break. "The HELL, Russia--" He winced, once he realized he was tasting blood. Whoops, bit too hard on the inside of his cheek when his jaw was smashed upwards. Muttering under his breath, he planted his hands on either side of his face and pushed up off the ground -- Russia still on his back, but hey, he can lift cars. He rolled over to his side, dumping the taller Russian off of him, and sat up. "Hey, THAT wasn't friendly!" He pouted slightly.

Ivan was actually shocked when Alfred managed to get onto his hands and knees- and push him off. How the hell? Blinking, Russia's smile returned after a few seconds. He would sit up as well, chuckling a bit under his breath.

"Neither is trying to leave so early in the evening- we haven't had a chance to talk in a long time, America!" He said, calmly and innocently, as if in his mind the tackle was perfectly acceptable. He froze, still smiling, as he got a wonderful idea. "Da. How about we leave Canada alone, so he doesn't have to worry about the house. Come to my place, da?"

...Ivan never really liked it when people were attracted to him in the way that Matt had claimed Alfred to be. It reminded him of Belarus. But man, did Ivan ever play his part in screwing most of his relationships up.

... America didn't like to be tackled? Maybe this was why they never got along...

Canada blinks. "You don't have to leave."

Alfred had a genuine WTF face on. Go to Russia's place?! Did he really thing America was that stupid? He didn't quite glare at Russia, more like intensely stared at him. "... Did the cold finally frostbite your brain, Russia?! Last I checked you didn't really want a friendly chat! You were attacking me!" He frowned.

Ivan chuckled, "Net, net. I just don't want you to leave..." What the hell was he doing? At this point, it seemed that Russia had merely acted on instinct- why would America want to leave, anyway? He didn't seem like the kind of nation/man to do paperwork, anyway. Ah well, no point in questioning it.

Russia stood up, walked over, and smiled sweetly down to Alfred.

"Ah, so it was a bad idea. Then we can just stay here, da?" He would look to Canada, basically echoing what Matt said... before he turned to walk back to the table, where he left the bottle of vodka.

Canada pokes Denmark.

America blinks up at Russia incredulously. "Don't want me to leave?" Did he dare hope that maybe Russia wanted to hang out? Really? "Er... Okay, I guess, but no breaking Mattie's house! That wouldn't be cool!" He stood, dusting himself off, and followed Russia back to the table, flopping in a chair.

Smiling to America, the Russian leaned back. "I've only said it three times, da." His smile twitched after a moment, though it returned just as before.

"Ah, so you still think I'm a commie bastard?" He opened his vodka, curious to see if their feelings were still strained.

America flinches, knowing it was a cruel thing to call Russia, even if he had been madder than a bat out of hell at the time. "S-sorry. Uh, no. Not really." He took a deep, shaky breath. It wasn't always easy admitting he was wrong. "I-I was just... y'know. Pissed. I didn't mean it." He fidgeted, wanting something to drink-- preferably a soda... "Hey, Mattie, you got any Coke?"

Russia managed a smile, lifting the bottle to his lips to take a gulp. Without putting it back on the table, Ivan would speak.

"Ah, okay." He would buy that answer- and the last thing he wanted to talk about was that.... He was considering letting up on the communism. Just a little- in hopes that the economy would right itself.

The Cold War was over- so why didn't he have anything to talk about?

...
"Ah... so whats new?"

Canada throws a coke at America.

Alfred grinned at Mattie and catches the coke. "Thanks, Mattie!" He cracks it open and takes a swallow before looking back to Russia and answering. He bites his lip lightly. "Yeah... I just say really dumb things when I'm pissed... okay? I never mean it." He shrugged. "Same old, same old, really. Lately, though, it seems like people listen to me less than ever." A hollow laugh escapes his lips. "Even though people study everything I say more closely than ever before, y'know? It's dumb. Kinda frustrating, too." Another swallow. Voice turning oddly gentle and worried, he asked softly, "A-anyway, how're you holding up? You guys are looking pretty bad over there."

Canada smiles, walking out of the kitchen. He ran for the supply closet and swung the door open, running in. Slamming the door behind him, he locked it. "God, what is going on." He mumbled as he searched for something, throwing objects everywhere. Oddly enough, he had left Kumajirou with Russia and America. Strange, eh?

Russia payed little attention to the little polar bear which Canada somehow managed to leave behind. Instead, he focused on keeping up his facade as he tried to explain, or rather, make excuses for Alfred's question.

"Ah, things have been better..." Alot better, actually. And what did the russian have to compare it to? The horrible life he led before the revolutions following the fall of the czar?

"Net, but there is always room for improvement, da..." He didn't mean to imply change. But he was thinking that just a little bit of capitalism could help. Only a little...

"Ah, what did you do during the great depression?" He knew, of course. Government programs... But he already had that!

Kumajirou climbs up to the counter, and sits there. Not much else to do..

America scratches the back of his head, and sighs. Just remembering that time in history brought a bad taste to his mouth-- which he quickly dispelled with another swig of Coke. "Er. Weeeeell I dunno if what we did during the Depression really applies to your uh, your economic system." He shrugs. "But, uh, yeah, mostly it was government programs designed to incite people to make and get jobs. Cuz, y'know, capitalism-- if you wanna survive, you need a job. And if you've got a job, you're being productive to society-- does that even make sense?-- Yeah, I'm going to shut up now." He takes another drink. The last thing he wanted was to start arguing about economic and government systems right now-- especially since they were just chillin'. It was nice, just to sit and talk with Russia, without all that nuclear tension floating around.