When your allies are all pessimists... (Bulgaria)

Sigh. That had been one of the worst meetings Todor had ever attended, and he had sat through EU meetings in times of crisis. He could safely say that the Joint Pact meeting had been worse. The tension in the large room had been so thick he could have choked on it, the nations watching each other like hawks, suspicion painted on their faces like a big warning sign cautioning against petting the dog. Worst of all: it wasn't over yet. They were just taking a lunch break.

Todor found himself wondering what Allegiance meetings were like. He could imagine Ludwig leading the discussion like he often did during world meetings, and Alfred chiming in from time to time to remind everyone that he was important. Arthur and Francis would disagree with each other on principle, and the others would probably just sit there, waiting for the meeting to be over. Their meetings were probably a crazy affair, full of life and angry shouting.

It sounded a hundred times better than the loaded silence that fell over the meeting room each time one of the members of the Joint Pact had said their piece, heavy and deafening until the next person piped up. Nobody raised their voice or slammed their fist on the table. Nobody dared to.

Where the Allegiance was a tornado, the Joint Pact was a dormant volcano. Todor feared an eruption.

He sighed and commenced his walk down the busy streets of Moscow, contemplating where to eat. He hadn't seen some of his allies in a while and would have thought it nice to eat lunch together, but had decided against it, leaving the room the minute the meeting recessed for lunch. "Hmmm, solyanka, maybe? Pelmeni?" he said to himself as he walked, thinking when in Russia, you have to eat Russian food. "Oh! Shashlyk!" he exclaimed happily, having made his decision. There was a shop that sold it further down the street.

Ten minutes later, Todor was strolling through the city munching on the delicious meat when he felt it: the presence of a nation. He could not tell who it was, but he knew it was a member of the Joint Pact. No other nations had a reason to be in Moscow right now. His curiosity moved his feet forward, to the park where he found Adela Ferrovaria. "Adela!" he greeted with a smile, seating himself next to her. "I'm so glad it's you and not one of the sourpusses we have allied ourselves with." Todor chuckled, jokingly adding, "What were we thinking, right?" The Joint Pact was a group of pessimists who trusted nobody, but Todor knew he could rely on them. Well, some of them. If it weren't for Ivan, Bulgaria wouldn't even be an independent country, but he wasn't sure he could trust some of the other members. He needed to be on his guard.

Todor smiled at the younger nation, friendly and welcoming, green eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'd rather have lunch with you than with any of our allies. They're no fun." Sourpusses he'd called them, which Adela had agreed with. "They're so tense and suspicious all the time, like they're expecting to be double-crossed."

The Joint Pact had trust issues a mile wide, and until they overcame them, working together would be a big challenge. The meeting they had just come from was a reminder of how delicate the pact was, a thin thread that could snap any minute. The situation was complicated further by Yao's surreptitious behavior and Ivan's enigmatic personality. They Joint Pact was already at war with the Allegiance. The last thing they needed was a fight among themselves. Todor was worried, the concern he was feeling showing in the creasing of his forehead and in the gentle furrowing of his eyebrows.

He generally disliked conflict, and for that reason, he had chosen to join the war. A contradictory action to some, but made perfect sense to him. His reasons for joining weren't as obvious to Adela. "My geographical location," he responded simply, taking a bite of his food and watching her reaction. "War would have come to my doorstep whether I acted or not. I chose a side so that I would be better protected." He had tried to be neutral in previous wars, but that had not worked out for him. This time he had chosen a side before the choice was taken out of his hands. He just hoped he had picked the winning side.

"Do you thing we can win?" he asked, biting his bottom lip a little nervously. He knew that expressing doubt was unwise in a Pact consisting of temperamental people that didn't take very well to criticism, but Adela seemed genuine. She was a bit like him, the odd man out in a group of pessimists. He felt like he could trust her.