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Post by Germany on May 29, 2011 0:23:52 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,460,true] | [atrb=background,http://i52.tinypic.com/4ihuki.png]He didn't know why exactly he was there. There weren't any fresh cases needing to be judged, and the day was overall lame and boring. Of course, he was completely fine with the peace. It gave him time to think and relax, which was exactly what he was doing. Shoeless feet propped up on a coffee table, the German leaned back in the couch in the lobby. The reason for him not having his shoes on was simple: The dirt clinging for dear life to the soles of his shoes would come off on the table. He would not stand for that! Ah, the life of a clean freak. A completely OCD life he lives.
Ludwig was in his usual brown suit, the first two buttons undone because of how stuffy these suits became after wearing them in a dull courthouse all day. Of course, the black robe he was forced to wear during trials was neatly folded and placed in a duffel bag next to the couch he was on. The German sighed, running his hands through his slicked back blond hair. He really should just let his hair have a break from the mass quantities of hair gel he uses, but slicking it back was easier to handle. He never had to shove bangs out of his eyes or bother with the mess the wind would make it.
Maybe he should go out for a drink... He wasn't needed yet, and he probably wouldn't until tomorrow or a few days later--whenever a new criminal needs to be brought to justice. Speaking of which, the next trial was probably going to involve Francis. Only Gott knows exactly how many times he was charged with sexual harrassment, pedophilia, and... Wasn't there even a charge from streaking in a large crowd? You never know with the French...
OK, that was a bit stereotypical, but we are talking about the freaking nations. They could be as stereotypical as they wanted! The blond sighed once more, rubbing his temple as a headache tried to sneak up on him as he thought about nothing in particular.
ooc: Midnight muse = random rambling. -nods-
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Post by England on Jun 5, 2011 13:48:42 GMT -5
OOC: -so jealous of posting table- The Englishman wasn't quite sure what had called him back to the courthouse; he was usually as giddy as a young school girl to get out of the workplace and back home...with his friends who actually understood him.
Ah, how we would enjoy a visit from Flying Mint Bunny at the moment. His little friend always stayed away from the court system; some of the people that came in terrified him. And who could blame him? Mass murderers, pedophiles, the works passed through those intimidating, large oak doors. The only one that might have stayed with him was Captain Hook, but he didn't come around much anymore.
Maybe he had presumed that the lobby would be completely vacant and he could have a few moments of rest. Surely, though, he could've returned to his own home for that? The chances were very slim. Ah, that was right. He remembered why he had been called away from his doorstep. That bloody French frog was planning on paying him a "visit," which usually ended with him running, blushing all the while, down his street.
However, as he walked in, he was caught off guard to see a fellow colleague sitting in the lobby; Ludwig, the judge he worked under most often. He crossed his arms, a disapproving glance being cast in the direction of the German's feet.
"You know, that isn't a foot stool," he muttered sourly. Nothing put him on edge more than people being completely disorderly. "I see nothing wrong with having feet on the floor. Perhaps you should change your position, cross your legs even...?"
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