I don't own Hetalia or Eurovision, Hidekaz Himaruya owns Hetalia and I don't know who owns Eurovision, but that person isn't me. But it's that time again, with my take on if it had been the Hetalia characters themselves singing the songs for Eurovision. As like before, the songs are all on YouTube, so feel free to listen to them while you read this story.
As far as I know, no new characters have really been introduced in Hetalia, and so this fanfic is littered with OCs. As previously with Sing to Me, short paragraphs in bold throughout the story include some history on certain countries and their relationships with each other. Pairings include: GerIta, Spamono, LietPol, Greece/Japan/Turkey (?), one-sided LietBel, SuFin, DenNor, Oji-san/Iceland (?), and others I can't quite remember.
And once again, I apologize in advance if I offend anyone over the songs.
Enjoy!
It Echoes Back
It took twenty-eight years, but Germany won at Eurovision again in 2010. With him hosting the 2011 Contest in Düsseldorf, there was still no telling who would win. Would he clinch the victory again? Would another country who already won before win? Or would a country, who had never won Eurovision, win the contest?
It was time…for Eurovision 2011.
Germany tucked the towel around his shoulders as he regarded himself in the mirror. His blonde hair was a mess, but his boss would love it surely. But, he couldn't miss the exhaustion in his eyes.
He'd forgotten how hard it was to host Eurovision, and he'd only done it once before in 1983. Was it too much to hope for that everything at least go as planned?
It was the buzz all over the internet. Countless viewers all over Europe had been less than satisfied with the broadcast of the first semi-final round. It all fell on his shoulders as the host country, and that added to his stress. Everyone was pointing fingers at each other over the technical issues, and nobody was taking responsibility. He had wanted the contest to run smoothly, but alas this wasn't the case.
Germany felt a shiver run down his back and he quickly turned his head. He saw nothing behind him, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. But his stomach was still twisted up in knots as he faced the mirror once more. The biggest controversy of that night, at least to the fans, was the fact that the first five countries who had performed failed to qualify. And all of them had been favorites to get in the finals.
He rubbed at one ear self-consciously as he remembered it. Turkey, Armenia, Albania, Norway, and Poland were all furious, especially when a rumor spread that votes that went in during the first thirty minutes of the show hadn't been counted because of the technical issues. They all jointly filed appeals to ESC, but it all fell on deaf ears. Germany didn't know what the truth was. His ears were still ringing from those countries screaming at him. At least, from all of them except Norway. The Nordic country took his defeat in his usual stoic silence, but then Germany suddenly found himself being stalked by a floating green troll for two days afterwards.
It hadn't been pleasant, that was for sure. At least the troll just trailed him around and didn't actually do anything, outside of being a nuisance.
Speaking of nuisances, Germany was consciously aware that he was indeed alone in his green room. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and hit speed-dial. He idly played with a couple of strands of hair on the top of his head as he waited.
Once again, the phone didn't ring. It went straight to voicemail.
"HALLO! This is Gilbert Beilschmidt, aka the VERY AWESOME Prussia! I'm not available because I'm probably out doing something AWESOME! Leave a message, or something, and I might get back to you! If I don't, then you probably AREN'T AWESOME!"
"Aniki, where the hell are you?" Germany snapped into the phone right after the beep. "I better be getting your voicemail because you're driving here and can't pick up your phone! The Eurovision finals are tonight and we're sixteenth to go! You'd better be here, or I'll make you sorry! Oh, and danke for missing the rehearsal!"
Germany snapped his phone shut and sighed. Venting may have felt good, had that not been the twentieth message he left on Prussia's voicemail. His older brother had been completely AWOL since yesterday, and all attempts to reach him failed miserably.
And Germany knew exactly why Prussia was avoiding him.
"So that thing is gone?"
Germany jumped slightly and looked over his shoulder. Austria was idly fixing his cufflinks as he entered the green room. "Wait…so you saw it too? I thought I was going crazy!"
Austria shrugged as he sat down at the couch. "After everything that's happened, it didn't really surprise me to see a few…unsavory creatures hanging around you. At least it didn't attack you."
"Ja." Germany sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose in both irritation and exhaustion. "At least the problems were fixed for your semi-final performance, Austria, and you were able to qualify."
"It was exciting." Austria smiled very slightly. "It'd been so long since I'd performed in front of an audience, so I'd forgotten how wonderful it feels. And my song has sentimental value with strong lyrics." He scoffed as he sorted through the magazines on the coffee table in front of him. "Not like Moldova's mess. How did that awful song qualify?"
"Europe has eclectic tastes," Germany said blandly. "Look…you haven't seen Aniki, have you?"
"Prussia? Not at all." Austria idly flipped through a magazine for a moment before he put it back on the table. "He popped up right before my semi-final performance to pour pepper into the water I was going to gargle, but that's it."
"Dummkopf," Germany groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face.
"But it's typical behavior of Prussia—"
"Nein, I mean that he's supposed to perform with me tonight with another one of Lena's accursed songs, and I can't find him!"
"Oh, is that why you're upset?" Austria shook his head. "Personally, I think you're better off performing without him. Remember his behavior last year during your performance?"
Prussia had been falling down drunk when they sang in 2010, accumulating with him vomiting all over Hungary. She smack him full-force in the face with a frying pan, and it sobered him up too little too late. Still… "I'm not performing that damned song alone! He swore he would do this with me, and then he disappears!"
"You hated the song last year," Austria pointed out. "And yet you won. Since you hate the new one so vehemently, just imagine what your final score will be?"
Germany groaned again, wanting to smash his head into the wall. "I don't want to do this alone…"
"Jó estét!"
Both men perked up at this new voice, and at the person who swept into the room. "Hungary!" Austria gasped, gaping at her. "You looked beautiful!"
Hungary laughed and twirled in her short blue dress. "Köszönöm. Po-chan picked it out. I generally don't like outfits like this, but if I look good I can't complain!"
"And congratulations on getting to the final," Germany said. "It's fantastic that the three of us are in the final this year."
"Of course you're in here as part of the Big Four. Oh, I'm sorry." Hungary laughed sneakily. "I meant Big Five. Have you checked on Italy yet?"
Germany looked away from her. "I've…been busy."
Hungary laughed even louder. "His green room is just down the hall! And Romano and him look so cute! Why not stop in and say hi?"
"I will later," Germany said hastily. He pulled out his cell phone again. "I just need to get a hold of Aniki."
Hungary stopped laughing and made a face. "He's probably in some bar here in Düsseldorf getting drunk off his ass! Honestly, you're better off without him here!"
"That's what I said too," Austria said. "Although, with a little more subtlety."
Germany snapped his phone shut. "His voicemail box is full!"
The central control room for the Eurovision contest was guarded very closely. Because of all the technical issues, and especially since this was the finals, it was important that everything run smoothly.
Except…
The guard on duty folded his arms over his chest as he looked up and down the hallway. He saw no one, and outside of occasional beeps from his walkie-talkie, the corridor was filled with silence.
After a moment, he turned his head to his left…and saw a dark aura. Accompanied by a pair of red-violet eyes.
He screamed, and stumbled backwards. "T-Teufel! Teufel Geschöpf!" he took off running down the hall, screaming his head off.
Belarus stared after him in silence. A burst of laughter erupted behind her, and someone came up on her left side. "B-Belarus! That was incredible! Much easier than I thought it would be!"
Belarus tested the doorknob, and the control room came open easily. "One moment, Georgia."
"Right." Georgia pressed his back into the wall to avoid detection. He raised his arm to direct his companion to come alongside him. "Careful, Azerbaijan. If they see us we'll be disqualified."
"Got it." Azerbaijan flattened her back into the wall, but she gave Georgia a sideways glance. "But won't Belarus be punished for this?"
"She's not in the finals, so it's not like they can disqualify her. Plus, they wouldn't have the guts to."
More screams erupted from inside the control room, and several people ran out of the room and back down the hall. One moment later, Belarus poked her head back out. "It's clear."
"Kargi," Georgia said. He smiled and clasped hands with Belarus. "Thank you for the help."
Belarus shrugged. "I didn't get into the final, just like I warned my boss. If they hadn't told me to change the song, then this wouldn't have happened. But I'll show my Big Brother…he can't ignore this."
"No, he can't," Georgia said cheerfully. "Let's make this quick!"
"Georgia is one of the few countries who isn't afraid of Belarus and doesn't find her to be creepy. In the past several years they have become close over their mutual frustrations with Russia over his energy policies. On top of everything else, Georgia actively supports Belarus in her desire to "become one" with her big brother Russia. Probably because he hates Russia with every fiber of his being."
The three countries hurried into the control room. It took several long moments but they were able to bring up the video of the opening montage of all the countries that didn't qualify. Georgia cycled through each video quickly, though he kept a close eye on each video for the right one.
"Boom Boom, Chaka Chaka! Your kiss is like a like a—Boom Boom, Chaka Chaka! Your love is like a like a—"
Azerbaijan shrieked with laughter before she slapped a hand over her mouth. Georgia gave her a dark look before he moved onto the next video. "Neçænci?" she demanded indignantly. "It's a terrible song!"
"Armenia is not in the final," Georgia said harshly, cycling through the video. "And with everything that happened during our semi-final round, the jury is still out as to whether or not he lost because of his song."
Azerbaijan scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "He's just whining and grasping at straws. I'm glad he's not there! This would only be perfect if Sadiq were here with us!" she sighed sadly. "His was one of the best songs this year, and he was the runner-up last year! It's really such a shame!"
"At least you can be well-assured that you'll be getting all his points," Georgia said.
Azerbaijan brightened up a little. "That is true…"
"Here it is!" Georgia cried out, bringing up the video in question. "Belarus, do you have it?"
"I do." Belarus clutched a VHS tape in her two hands. "So…we just replace the current one with this one?"
"Yeah, simple as that!" Georgia took the tape from her. "We'll splice it in! Nobody will know the difference!" He cackled to himself. "And there's no way Russia can miss it…"
Italy tested the doorknob of their green room before looking at Romano over his shoulder. "Nii-san?"
"What is it?" Romano demanded. He was smoothing out the wrinkles in his silk white shirt.
"Why is our room locked?"
"So certain perverts can't break in!" Romano shook his head, as though Italy had asked a stupid question. "This is our big comeback, Veneziano! And I don't want any distractions!"
"But if we keep the door locked," Italy said mournfully. "How can Germany visit me?"
"THAT'S THE WHOLE POINT!" Romano barked.
"A-And Spain-nii-san can't visit you—"
"I don't want him here!" Romano cut in quickly. "He can go rot in his own green room for all I care!"
"But—"
The doorknob suddenly rattled under Italy's hand. Both brothers jumped at this, and at the knock that came at the door. "Don't open it," Romano said warningly.
"Feliciano! Lovino!" came the call from the other side. "Are you in there?"
Italy's whole face brightened and Romano relaxed somewhat at this voice. "San Marino!" Italy whipped open the door and crushed his third brother in a tight hug. "Stupendo! You came backstage to see us!"
"Of course I did!" San Marino positively smiled at his two brothers. His dark auburn hair seemed to spring out from underneath his cloth white muffy hat. The curl he had at the top of his head couldn't be contained by the hat, either. "It's a shame I couldn't get into the finals with you guys, especially since this was also my comeback year, but I gave it my best shot! And that's what counts!"
"Absolutely!" Italy said, pulling San Marino further into the room. The door was absently left open. "You did your absolute best!"
"I see you're alone," Romano said, looking over San Marino's shoulder. "Did Seborga stay home?"
"No, he's here," San Marino said. He began twirling a keychain around his index finger. "He's angry though. His heart was really set at getting into Eurovision this year, but he didn't make it. For some reason, he was really angry at me." He laughed lightly. "He told me I'm not a cannon and so I shouldn't be here! Isn't that such a silly thing to say? Of course I'm not a cannon! I'm a country!"
Italy and Romano exchanged a quiet look for a moment before Romano changed the subject. "But since you didn't make it, that means your twelve points are going to us, right?"
San Marino nodded happily. "You've got it! Whom else could I give them to, anyways?"
"Why don't we take a wild guess?" Romano snapped.
"I don't…" San Marino trailed off suddenly. They could hear voices from further down the hall. His face brightened suddenly, and his head whipped around. "Serbia!" San Marino bolted from the room.
Italy and Romano rushed to the doorway. Further down the hall they saw the country in question, and San Marino speaking rapidly to him. Short silver hair fell into Serbia's face and he regarded San Marino in cold silence. "Idiocy coupled with the need to throw himself at a country," Romano fumed. "Doesn't that remind you of a certain someone?" he glared pointedly at Italy as he said this.
Italy thought about it for a moment before he shrugged. "I don't know."
"San Marino is a micro nation of 31,000, located inside of Northern Italy. In 301 A.D. he ran away from Grandpa Rome's house and founded his country. Though he is not as big as his other brothers, he is the oldest constitutional republic in the world, sprung from an incredibly rebellious nature in his youth. He has proven to be incredibly lucky as well, as he has the lowest unemployment rate in all of Europe and no national debt. Despite being independent, he is forced to rely on Italy for military aid, as he has no military of his own. In fact, he has a treaty with his brothers which stipulate the Italian Army will bear arms if San Marino is ever invaded. Thankfully, this hasn't happened.
Though he gets along with most nations of the world, one foreign relation he is incredibly proud of is his relationship with Serbia. Since 1984 they have been close, and San Marino even made a promise to Serbia to always support him in the Council of Europe, no matter what. Their only bone of contention was San Marino's acknowledgement of Kosovo's independence in 2008, when he'd previously promised he would not do so."
"Romanooooooo!"
Romano stiffened at this voice. "Merda, the door—"
He was nearly tackled from behind. Arms clasped around him and a familiar voice breathed alongside his neck. "Romano…you will vote for me, sí? I look forward to your performance, too…"
"Ciao, Spain-nii-san!" Italy shouted obliviously.
"Get the fuck off me, you fucking idiot!" Romano screamed. He tried to punch Spain, but his arms remained pinned at his sides. He tried to stomp on Spain's toes, but they were conveniently out of harm's way. "I'll head-butt your ass, bastardo!"
Spain only giggled against his neck. "Mmm…so much energy, Romano. Save some of that for your performance, no?"
A familiar chuckle came from down the hall Spain came from, and Romano froze violently in his arms. "Becoming quite cozy Spain?"
"France-nii-san!" Italy cried. He ran at the other country and threw his arms around him. "We perform right after you!"
"Oui, you do." France hugged him back, but his hands began to suspiciously wander downwards. "It shall be quite an intéressant night. I did receive a peculiar message from Gilbert…"
"You too?" Spain turned his head to look at France. "I got it too! It was pretty vague, no?"
"You got WHAT?"
Everyone jumped again as Germany stormed towards them. He grabbed France by his collar, which caused the other nation to let go of Italy before he could grab his ass. "Aniki sent you a text message? What did it say? Where is he?"
"Germany!" Italy cheered, hugging Germany around his waist. "You came to see me!"
"I don't know where Gilbert is!" France snapped irritably, trying to pull away from Germany. "He just sent me a message that said to not tell you where he is!"
"WHERE?" Germany snapped again.
"I told you I don't know! I have no idea where he is!"
"He sent me that message too," Spain said. "But I haven't seen Gilbert since last night."
"Wha…" Germany abruptly let France go. "You saw him LAST NIGHT? I haven't seen him ALL WEEK! Mein Gott…" He scrubbed a hand over his face. "I'm going to kill him…"
"Germany came to see me," Italy said in a sing-song voice, still hanging onto Germany.
"That's it!" Romano screamed. He kicked Spain in the stomach, finally able to break out of his arms. "I can't stand all of this FUCKING STUPIDITY!" he stormed over to Italy and Germany and pulled Italy away from him by the scruff of his neck. "We're sitting in the audience! NOW!"
"Nii-san, I want to visit with Germany!" Italy wailed. He reached frantically for Germany as Romano dragged him down the hall. "Doitsu! Doitsu!"
Germany stared after them, unsure of what to do. "Uh…"
Spain wheezed out a laugh, and nursed his stomach. "Romano's quite flexible…"
"Wait, don't leave without me!" San Marino shouted after them. He smiled brightly at Serbia as he turned to leave. "In bocca al lupo!"
"…Hvala," Serbia said after a long moment, though San Marino had already taken off after his brothers.
Germany watched the brothers leave, still at a loss for words. "I…"
A flash of a shadow startled him down the hall, and he jumped. France chuckled and sidled up next to him. "Feeling a little jumpy, Germany?"
"Nein," Germany said sharply, shoving him away. "I thought I just saw a unicorn, but I must be under stress."
"A unicorn?" France looked towards the ceiling. "I know of a certain individual who may be responsible for this…"
England had a problem. He knew he did. And he knew it was his own fault for not realizing it sooner. But…
"I don't understand." He had to force the patience into his tone as he spoke into his cell phone. "I already promised to pay for your room and pay for all the booze you want. And you're still saying no?"
"Well…" Australia hesitated for a moment on the other line. "It IS short notice—"
"I can get you here so fast you won't blink!" England said. "So why can't you do it?"
"Well…I'm not a European country—"
"Do you think they'll care? And the contest broadcasts to your house! So you don't have any excuses! It's just one song!" England sighed heavily. "A three-minute long song, that's all you'll do, and then you're free to do your own business in Düsseldorf for free! You can't get a better offer than that!"
"I…don't feel like it," Australia said at length. "And this song is with a four-member boy band anyways. Why do you need a fifth person?"
"I already told you!" England snapped. "I got Wales and Scotland to go along with me, but Ireland! She…" He gritted his teeth. "Bloody hell, just shut up and agree to this already!"
"Er…no thanks. But my koala and I will enjoy watching your performance live."
"Wha—" the line abruptly disconnected and England screamed with rage. "Why you! BURN IN HELL, YOU POOF!"
England tucked the phone back into his pocket and leaned against the wall. He slid to the floor and sighed mournfully. "Now what am I going to do?"
A burst of feedback erupted from the intercoms. Then, a familiar voice burst out in loud song shortly after the feedback.
"LET TYRANTS SHAKE THEIR IRON ROD!
AND SLAV'RY CLANK HER GALLING CHAINS!
WE FEAR THEM NOT, WE TRUST IN GOD!
NEW ENGLAND'S GOD FOREVER REIGNS!"
England growled in fury and jumped to his feet. "Not again! And to sing that song! The little bugger is going to PAY!"
Lithuania looked at the mirror in front of him and sighed. "I'm so nervous."
"Liet, I told you not to move." Poland came around the front of him to fix his collar. "You need to, like, totally look awesome out there!"
"I know, Feliks." Poland had dressed Lithuania in a formal suit that was the three colors of Lithuania's flag. He thought he looked like an eyesore, but he'd rather trust in Poland's judgment with this. "All I want out of tonight is to not freeze up on stage. And to not get zero points."
Poland glared at him and he brushed off his shoulders. "You'd think I'd let you get zero points, Liet? Besides you, like, totally nailed your semi-final."
"Tabu," Lithuania said sincerely. He looked down at Poland while the other nation fixed his cuffs. "I know this hasn't been easy for you, with everything that's happened. So I really appreciate you helping me out despite this."
Poland scoffed, though his fingers stilled on his wrist. "You're, like, hopeless at this stuff anyway, Liet. What would seriously happen if I wasn't totally here? And besides…" Poland sank down to his knees to brush out wrinkles in his pants. "I've totally got a lot of people on my side over this. ESC is totally plugging their ears and won't listen to us, but a lot of people felt I was, like, totally robbed. It's not much, but it makes me feel better."
Lithuania let out his breath slowly. "Yeah…"
"We'll be fine out there," Estonia said confidently, fixing his tie. "We might not get the points we want, but we ought to have fun and put on a good performance, right?"
"Right," Lithuania said, but something caught his attention. He saw Latvia trembling violently at the door, peeking around the corner into the hallway. "Raivis? What are you doing?"
"I-I-I-It…" Latvia turned to them, tears in his violet eyes. "I see Russia! He's out there watching us!"
Lithuania stiffened, but Poland abruptly stood up and stormed to the door. He stepped into the hallway and looked down both directions. "I, like, totally don't see anything Latvia."
"I saw him!" Latvia cried out, wringing his hands. "H-He's down there watching us! H-H-He's going to come, a-and—mans Dievs! I have to get out of here! P-Please don't let me go to the audience alone!"
"I don't see anyone, Latvia," Poland repeatedly irritably. But, he faced the direction Latvia had seen Russia and pointed his middle finger. "Spierdalaj, Russia! And if you come near Liet, I'll totally make Warsaw your capital!"
"Stop scaring us, please," Estonia scolded, grabbing Latvia by his arm and pulling him further into the room. "Russia isn't going to conquer us or ambush us here! When has he ever? Just calm down and relax!"
Poland scoffed in disgust and stormed back into the room. "That bękart is only lucky he has all of Europe in his back pocket! Otherwise he'd never make it to the finals so many times!"
"Feliks, that's not true," Lithuania said, trying to mediate the matter. "R-Russia may be scary, but he has strong entries—"
"He's NEVER not qualified for the finals!" Poland shot back. "No matter what song he sends in, he, like, totally gets in! He could send in a song of a goat bleating for three minutes and it would qualify! How can HE be here again and I'm not?"
Lithuania's brow knitted in pain. "Feliks…"
Someone stormed past their green room, and Latvia perked up. "W-Was that Belarus?"
Lithuania brightened. "It is? I must speak to—"
"No, you don't!" Poland snapped, grabbing him by his arm. "Remember the last time you spoke to her in Eurovision? She, like, totally broke your nose! Why would you risk bodily harm when you're in the finals this year?"
"Feliks, that was an accident—"
"What part of smashing your fist into someone's nose is an accident?"
"…He has a point," Estonia said.
"B-But—" Lithuania began.
"Hey, BELARUS!" Poland suddenly shouted after her. "Big Brother's just further down the hall!"
"Feliks!" Lithuania scolded.
Belarus said nothing to Poland, as she rounded the corner. After a period of silence, loud screaming emulated from down the hall. "…Wow," Estonia said after a moment. "He really was there…"
"Enough is enough!" England hollered. "How many times is he going to do this?"
"Let me go, you git!" Sealand whined, trying to break free from the hold England had on his arm. "You're only angry because of that song America taught me!"
England ignored him as he sized up the Nordic in front of him. "When is your lot going to curb him in? If you let him go running amuck like this all the time, it will only create problems!"
Norway stared at England blankly. By his stance and usual lack of emotions, it was easy to tell he didn't care about the situation. "It's not my job to discipline him."
"Look, if you buggers would just let me into the contest, then I wouldn't need to crash it!" Sealand insisted, still trying to pull his arm free. "I saved the bloody world! ME! We'd all be running amuck of shadow people if it weren't for me! So I have a right to participate!"
England still ignored him. "Well, forgive me for burdening you with this, but you're the only one out here, Norway! You're the only one of your circle who didn't qualify! Is it too much to ask for, for ONE OF YOU to rein him in?"
Norway's violet eyes narrowed, and he folded his arms over his chest. "As I just said, he is not my responsibility. You brought him to me, now go away. You're giving me a headache."
England was about to press the issue further, but he recognized the aura that surrounded the Nordic country. It was an aura of rage, but he felt the magic behind it. He knew better than to stage a magic fight right before they went live. "O-Okay." He shoved Sealand at Norway. "Stay out of trouble!" he barked at the small nation.
He turned and started to storm away from the pair. He yelped when something brushed against his foot and he fell backwards onto his butt.
"Se hvor du skal!"
England gaped in horror and fascination at the sight in front of him. A grouping of tiny creatures was casually walking across the floor. One of them was giving him the middle finger before he hurried after his friends and disappeared under the seats.
England pointed with a shaking hand. "W-W-What…were those GNOMES?"
When Armenia rounded a corner, he saw Russia sitting on the ground with his back to the wall, clutching a kitchen pipe. "Russia? Is something wrong?"
"Do you see Belarus?" Russia asked through clenched teeth. His face was incredibly white, and he was shaking.
Armenia looked back down the hallway he came from, and then down the other corridor. "Votch. I thought I saw a unicorn a little while ago, but I don't see Miss Belarus."
Russia let out his breath slowly, and relaxed. "…Good. I tried to see Lithuania, but then that ublyudok Poland sicced her on me!"
"I'm sorry to hear that." It wasn't very often that Armenia heard Russia curse, but he knew he had to be upset. He knelt down beside Russia. "I'm not trying to defend Poland, but it has been a terrible time for us." He bit his bottom lip. "It's almost worth it that Turkey isn't in the finals, but Azerbaijan…she keeps rubbing my failure in my face! And it wasn't even my failure!"
"Do not worry," Russia said. "I am still in the finals, so you may give all of your points to me!"
Armenia nodded. "No problem. You can always count on me for that at least."
"Horoshyee." Russia reached over and ruffled his hair as he reached into his coat. "I know it has been a difficult time for you, but here! Have some candy!" he pulled out a chocolate bar and gave it to him.
Armenia looked at the chocolate for a moment before he tucked it into his pocket. "Thank you. And good luck tonight."
"Wow!" Sealand cried out as Norway and him entered the Nordic's green room. "Look at them all!"
At least two dozen fairies were scattered around the room. Many of them were sitting on Faroe or playing with her, likewise with Åland, though she was playing with Hanatamago. Greenland looked like he was antagonizing a dirty little troll by poking it in the forehead. The other Nordics were finishing getting ready as though nothing were out of the ordinary.
"Norway, I caught a boggart," Greenland said, referring to the troll he was tormenting. "He tied my shoelaces together and stole 50 Euros from me. If I keep bugging him he'll give me back my money, right?"
"…That's the idea," Norway said blandly. He pushed Sealand further into the room. "England was having a row with this one."
"That was your singing, right Sealand?" Finland asked over his shoulder. "Why did it bother England so much?"
"Who knows?" Sealand asked. He joined Åland in playing with Hanatamago. "But where did all of these magical creatures come from? England's never summoned this many!"
"England didn't summon these," Iceland said matter-of-factly, brushing off his shirt.
Norway visibly twitched, but remained silent as he sat down. Ten fairies abruptly came to rest upon him.
Denmark giggled suddenly as he fixed the red tie over his black shirt. "You summoned them, Norge? This isn't like you!" He turned away from the mirror to grin at the other Nordic. "You must be pretty upset about your defeat!"
"I can handle defeats if I deserve them," Norway said calmly, though his fingers curling into fists. "When I'm unjustly defeated over something that isn't even my fault, and nothing is done about it, I don't really find it fair."
Denmark arched an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest. "Are you sure it's really the technical issues that are bothering you, and not the fact that you lost on our wag—UGH!"
Norway launched himself from the couch, the fairies scattering in alarm, and began strangling Denmark with his tie. "Vær stille!" he hissed.
Unfortunately, Sweden caught what Denmark had said. "Wager?" he fixed his own collar and looked at Norway. "You had a wager with Denmark?"
Norway abruptly let Denmark go, and took a couple of steps back as he found himself under scrutiny from the entire room. He looked briefly at Iceland, and then looked at the floor. "Er…"
"Why would you make a wager with Denmark?" Greenland asked, still poking the boggart in the head. "I thought you were smarter than that, Norway. Come on, give me back my money!" he snapped at the boggart.
"I'm not talking about this," Norway announced, waving his hand. He sat back down on the couch. "It's nobody's business."
"What did you wager?" Faroe asked, looking up from playing with the fairies.
"It's nobody's business," Norway emphasized.
Sweden's brow rose, but he said nothing more and turned back to the mirror.
"B-But!" Denmark coughed, struggling to his feet. "I am a man of honor! As the former King of Scandinavia, I can see when people are cheated! Since Norge was cheated, he didn't technically lose!"
"So you guys wagered over who would get the highest ranking?" Finland asked slowly. "And since Denmark made it into the finals, and Norway didn't, Denmark won by default?"
"Again," Greenland asked. "Why would you make a wager with Denmark?"
"What's wrong with making a wager with me?" Denmark demanded.
Norway scrubbed a hand over his face. "He made me an offer he couldn't refuse."
"That's vague," Iceland said.
"He. Made. Me. An. Offer. I. Couldn't. Refuse," Norway punctuated.
"For a full year, I swear Norge! No phone calls, no visits, no drunken ambushes, no whining, NOT A THING! I won't speak to you or bother you for ONE FULL YEAR! I'll take a blood-oath if I have to! So please make this bet with me!"
"If he made a great offer if you won," Finland. "What's going to happen now that Denmark won?"
"Oh, that's easy," Denmark said cheerfully. "He must—"
"OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"
Greenland shrieked with pain as the boggart bit the tip of his finger. He jumped to his feet and waved his hand frantically, the boggart swinging frantically from the tip.
"Let him go!" Norway snapped, rushing over to him.
The boggart let Greenland go, and went flying. He smacked into the wall hard, but fell gracefully onto his chubby legs. With a loud cackle, he took off running out of the room.
"It still has my 50 Euros!" Greenland shouted, clutching at his hand.
"W-We have to call for help!" Finland cried, rushing over. "That thing might have rabies!"
"It's a mythical creature," Iceland said blandly. "It can't have rabies."
"Why did you summon that?" Greenland hollered as Norway held fast to his hand. Finland got an emergency kit from the wall and pressed gauze to the bite wound. "It bit me and now I'm bleeding and it ROBBED me!"
"I'll give you 50 Euros in a moment," Norway said, helping Finland wrap the wound. "Just don't go near that boggart again, all right?"
"I'll kill that thing if it comes near me again!"
"Is he okay?" Faroe asked fearfully. She offered a fairy to Norway. "Maybe if the fairy kisses the wound he'll heal?"
"…We might as well try it," Finland said. He sighed and brushed the hair out of his face. "Wow…so much to happen already, and I'm the first country to go tonight. I'm already exhausted."
"Vad är det, Mamma?" Åland cried out, rushing to Finland's side.
"Jag okej," Finland reassured her, petting her hair. "Jag känner bara en kombination av stress och nerver."
"I'm the one who's hurt," Greenland fumed. "And she asks about you! Ow!" he jerked his hand back suddenly. "What was that?"
"The fairy kissed you," Norway said, letting the fairy take flight. He wiped the blood away from the bite. "Look, it worked. The bite is gone."
"Really?" Greenland looked at his finger. "Then keep summoning fairies! At least they don't steal money!"
"These types don't," Sweden muttered to himself.
"Anyways," Denmark said, as though this incident hadn't happened. "I am an honorable man of my word! And since Norge faced so many technical problems, I did agree to adjust our wager to declare me the winner if I get in the top ten—"
"Top five," Norway cut in. "I agreed to it if you made the top five."
Denmark's face fell a little before it lit up again. "Absolutely! I'm the winner when I get in the top five!"
Sweden walked over and knelt down beside Norway. "He ranked fourth last year, and his song is very popular. Why would you agree to those stipulations?"
Norway shrugged. "Since when has a song's popularity been a factor in winning in these contests? With everything so screwed up as it is, I wouldn't be surprised if he makes fifteenth or sixteenth place."
"I wouldn't count on that."
"Kom ihåg, räknar du som en del av mig så dig inte kan rösta för mig," Finland told Åland. "Men dig kan fort farande rösta på Su-san."
"Jag kommer att rösta för Papa!" Åland cheered.
"All of you guys can vote," Sealand fumed suddenly. "And yet look at me! I saved the bloody world over Christmas! I don't ask for a lot of recognition, but can't you guys at least let me sing for Eurovision? Or are you all just scared that I might beat you?"
"Sealand, that was all just a terrible dream," Finland said, though he stood up to soothe the smaller nation. "We're better off forgetting it—"
"A dream every country worldwide had at the exact same time?" Sealand stomped his foot for emphasis.
"…Weirder things have happened," Iceland said.
"I didn't have that dream," Denmark said, thinking about it. "But, I was pretty hung-over though…"
A loud series of beeps echoed in the room. Iceland reached into his pocket. "It's my cell phone. Someone sent me a text message."
"I'm texting Latvia," Sealand snapped, punching numbers into his own cell phone. "At least he listens to me!"
"Sealand—" Finland began.
"I'll be right back," Iceland interrupted suddenly, hurrying for the door.
Sweden stood up. "Why do you need to excuse yourself from the room to answer a text message?"
"Did Oji-san send you another text message?" Faroe asked cheerfully.
"Who's Oji-san?" Finland asked.
"And another thing," Norway said suddenly, quickly standing. "When are we going to meet this Oji-san?"
"I said I'll be right back!" Iceland snapped over shoulder. He closed the door behind himself and leaned against the opposite wall. He opened his phone again to open the text message he'd just received.
"Halló, drengur! Til hamingju með að komast í úrslit! Þaðer synd aðégerekki þarsemvel, og þó það pissar mig ég mun ekki sóa orku yfir það lengur! Besta kvöld heppni!"
Iceland stared at the message for a long moment before he sent a response back. "I've said this before. You don't need to use Google Translate to talk to me. Texting in English is just fine."
He sent the response back and sighed shortly. After another moment, he pulled his phone out again to send another response.
"Thank you."
Prussia (mobile)
"Tell West I'm not here!"
Canada stared at the text message blankly for a moment before he sent a response back. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand. Where is 'here'?"
He sent the response. Thirty seconds later he received a second message.
"Exactly!"
Canada sighed, and tucked his cell phone back into his pocket. He cuddled Mr. Kumajirou in his lap and looked at his surroundings. He was careful to get to Eurovision early to ensure a seat. He managed to find a seat with the rest of the countries, and he was even able to secure an aisle seat.
"Nobody's taking my seat this year, Mr. Kumakichi," he said quietly. "And nobody's sitting on us, either!"
"Who are you?" Mr. Kumajirou asked.
"I'm Canada!"
"WHY would you teach him that horrid song?"
Canada jumped, and looked down the row. England was currently screaming at America, who was laughing obliviously. "You had no business teaching him THAT song!"
"Would you rather he sang London Bridge is falling Down?" America howled with laughter.
"You little—" England grabbed him by his collar. "I've had too much to deal with for the past two days from you lot! Ireland and now YOU! I'm not getting dead last again this year!"
"Whoa, what does Ireland have to do with this?" America asked.
"I had the perfect setup! Blue is a four-member band and I had the four members! Then she…she…" England dug his fingers into America's collar. "To sneak around behind my back…and TWO DAYS before the final!"
"Wait, so you need a fourth member? That's great! I'll be your fourth member!"
"Hell no!" England shoved America back into his seat. "I'd rather eat a jar of vegemite than ask you that!"
America stared at him blankly before he shrugged. "Your loss, then."
"Cazzo!" Romano shouted, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I came out here to avoid the stupidity, and yet it follows me!"
"Oh, Romano!" Spain tried to rub his shoulders, but Romano smacked his hands away. "Don't be mean!"
Seborga folded his arms over his chest and pouted. "Why are you complaining? At least you're in the contest!"
"But you can enjoy the show as a spectator!" San Marino said cheerfully.
Seborga glared at him.
Behind them, Netherlands was positively fuming. "…still total gelul! How is it that I use a song from one of my best bands, and have high rankings with people all over Europe, and get dead last in my semi-final round?"
"Maybe it was more you than the song!" Spain laughed.
"What the fuck did you say?" Netherlands shouted.
"Please stop complaining," Belgium said, fixing her bangs using her compact mirror. "You're not the only one who didn't get in."
"Y-You both did great," Luxembourg said, obviously trying to be a mediator for her two older siblings. "I'm sorry neither of you made it, but I liked your performances!"
Belgium smiled at her sister. "Danke."
"Why is it that when she compliments you; you thank her, but when I do you act like I insulted you?" Netherlands demanded.
"—Just know you'll do great, Doitsu—" Italy said into his cell phone.
Romano ripped the cell phone out of his hand and closed it. "Don't cheer him on, idiota! We're competing against him!"
"Nii-san, that was rude!" Italy cried.
"Sí, you shouldn't hang up other people's calls," Spain scolded playfully.
Poland came up the aisle to sit beside Italy, a trembling Latvia following close behind. "It's just about to start, right?"
"Right!" Italy said cheerfully, taking his cell phone back from Romano.
"Am I too late?"
All of the countries jumped at this voice. England and America immediately snapped to attention. "Japan!" England gasped. "I didn't know you would be here!"
Japan shrugged, looking mildly uncomfortable to have everyone gaping at him. "I wasn't planning on it, but Greece-san sent me another invitation. I wanted to go backstage and thank him for inviting me, but I got lost. I…I still have a lot I need to take care of, but my boss said I needed a break."
"You definitely do," America said. "After everything that's happened, you've been working very hard. Come, sit down!"
"Here's an open seat!" Turkey tapped the empty seat in front of him, which happened to be beside America.
"Arigato," Japan said, sliding over to take the seat. "But shouldn't you be backstage getting ready, Turkey-san?"
Turkey flinched, but he covered it up with a laugh. "I…didn't make it this year, Japan."
"Didn't make it? But you were the runner-up last year!"
Turkey shrugged stiffly. "That's just how things go. Of course, everything was so screwed up with our semi-final performance that I shouldn't really be surprised."
"Tell me about it," Poland fumed to himself.
"The show's about to start!" Sealand cheered, running up to them. Norway was slowly trailing behind him. "Never fear, your hero is here!"
"Hey, I'm the hero!" America corrected.
"Hi, Sealand!" Latvia called out, relaxing somewhat.
"I was hoping to see another micro-nation," Seborga sighed. "But I wanted to see Wy!"
"I'd rather see her than YOU!" Sealand shot back.
"I have to get backstage!" England fumed. "Thanks to that tart, I'm still scrambling to find a replacement! I swear that bitch is going to pay!"
England stormed off. At the end of the row, Canada hugged Mr. Kumajirou a little tighter. "…I wouldn't mind being in the band…"
The light dimmed over the arena, and an announcement rang out. "Welcome to the fifty-sixth annual Eurovision Song Contest!"
"It's starting!" Hungary gasped. She clasped her hand together nervously. "I'm fifth to go tonight after Lithuania…"
"I'm eighteenth," Austria said. "It's going to be an interesting show, that's for certain."
A shadow flickered across the opposite wall. Hungary blinked, and rubbed at her eyes. "Did I just see a unicorn?"
"You saw it too?" Germany asked, checking his phone. "I thought I was going crazy! Damn, no messages from Aniki!"
"Before we start the show, let's take a moment to highlight the performances of the countries that fell short of qualifying this year!"
"Way to rub salt in our wounds," Latvia whimpered.
"Come on, they always do this," Poland said. He sank into his seat though. "I'd rather be sitting with Liet…or Hungary."
The montage began with an electrifying performance by Bulgaria. "No! Znam! Shte namerya sila v men! I nebeto do dostigna! Na inat! Na inat!"
Bulgaria watched his video from backstage, holding an armful of yogurt. "I really gave my all to that…"
"But you'll vote for us, yes?"
He looked over his shoulder to see the Romanian siblings, Transylvania and Wallachia stepping close to him. "Of course I will. We're all good friends, after all."
"Or intense friends, as our bosses refer us to," Transylvania said.
Wallachia laughed lightly, and trailed a fingernail under his chin. "You know…our offer still stands."
"I appreciate it," Bulgaria said. "But I like yogurt too much to give it up."
Hungary saw this display and scoffed in disgust.
Next was Albania in the montage. "Let me share my song with you! Just FEEL MY PASSION! Love the message shining through! A CHAIN REACTION!"
"Wow!" America said. "He's really into it!"
"I think the song sounded better in his native language," Turkey said. "But he too was a victim of the technical issues."
Belgium's doo-wop was up, and she was clearly into it. "With love! –In my mind, my body and my soul! I'm doing everything and I'm doing it all!—With love!"
"You did great, Belgium!" Romano quickly told her. "I'm just sorry you didn't make it!"
Belgium shrugged and smiled at him. "Thank you."
Norway's upbeat, yet rather bland singing came next. "And she said—ah. Haba haba! Hujaza ki-baba! Haba haba! Hujaza ki-baba!"
"What language is that?" America asked. "It doesn't sound Norwegian!"
"Swahili," Norway said bluntly.
"You were singing in a language from Africa?" Japan asked, amazed. "Very creative!"
Norway shrugged.
"I'm sorry I couldn't hear it from my house," Spain said. "Pero, ESC said you wouldn't have gotten in even if I gave you twelve points!"
Norway glared at him, and Romano sighed. "Way to have no tact, dumbass!"
"What does gum have to do with this?" America asked.
San Marino's incredibly cheerful performance was next. "But if you don't mind! I will be here! Holding back those years that pass us by! And in a natural high, you hold my hand!"
"…Did you write this song in 1974?" America asked over his shoulder. "It sounds like a disco ballad!"
"No, it's a new song!" San Marino said cheerfully.
Netherlands was next. "Feel the risin' hope! And the sky will open! Take my hand! Don't stall! Have faith! Though the road is long! There are golden gardens! At the sweet end of your trail!"
"I like this song," Canada said quietly.
"Stupid Europe," Netherlands fumed to himself.
Turkey was next, seemingly very intensely into his song. "Sing it loud and let it out! Life is beautiful! My friend! Let it out! Life is beautiful! Give yourself a break! Come and live it up!"
"This sounds really good!" Japan said. He looked at Turkey. "I can't believe you didn't qualify!"
Turkey himself no longer looked calm. "Evet. Maybe if they actually COUNTED MY VOTES, THEN I'D BE IN THE FINAL!" he hollered at the top of his voice.
"Ow, merda!" Romano yelped, rubbing at his ear. "Why won't you guys stop WHINING about it?"
Latvia was next, trying desperately to get into his song. "Kill me with killa kiss! Kill me with tempting lips! Stare me with candy eyes! Love me with luscious thighs! Kill me with killa kiss!"
"You say 'kill me' a lot in the song," America pointed out.
"And I didn't qualify," Latvia said mournfully.
Poland was up next, dancing and singing with other dancers. "Jestem! Twym natchnieniem, dla łez ukojeniem! Twój świat kręci się wokół mnie—Jesteś! Moim cieniem! Na każde skinienie…Pojawiasz się tuż okok mnie Skaczesz w ogień gdy chcę…"
"What's wrong with your microphone?" Japan asked Poland. "I can barely hear you!"
"Eurovision doesn't want to be in Warsaw," Poland said flatly. "That's what's wrong with my microphone!"
"Ah…" Japan shifted uncomfortable. "Sou desu…"
Cyprus was next. "San aggelos s'agapisa! Gyrna stin agkalia mou! Pes mou kai pali m'agapas!"
"Too bad for HIM!" Turkey roared with laughter, once again in a good mood. He got weird looks from everyone around him.
Israel's upbeat performance was next. "Ding-dong! Say no more! I hear silent prayer and it's making me—High and fly! I know where to go! And I'm coming now!"
"W-WHAT?" America shrieked, jumping to his feet. "You guys voted ISRAEL out? What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing's wrong with us!" Romano snapped. "That's just how things go!"
The final entry in the montage was Belarus, but there was a strange delay in the video. Murmurs of confusion broke out across the audience.
Then, very abruptly her video started. "Born in Belorussia! U-S-S-R time! Belorussia! Got you on my mind! You're my passion! Do it old-fashioned! YOU AND I!"
Backstage, all of the color drained from Russia's face as he saw the video. Georgia was watching him and shrieked with laughter. "Look at him! He's petrified!" He hugged Azerbaijan, who was also laughing. "This was so worth it!"
Lithuania watched this song mournfully. "…Why is this playing?"
Poland was screaming with laughter and punching the arm of his chair. "This is the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen! Oh, losing almost seems worth it!"
"T-That's not the song she sang during her semi-final!" Latvia squeaked.
"She's failing to be subtle," Romano said.
The video abruptly ended, and Russia let out a trembling breath. "To play that song…how dare they? I will make them pay."
"Big Brother." Belarus came up beside Russia, her eyes shining. "I convey my love for you in song!"
Russia screamed, and jumped away from her. "Please, just LEAVE ME ALONE!"
America checked the program. "So, Finland's up first?"
"Yay, Papa-Finland!" Sealand cheered.
Clutching a guitar to his chest, Finland took several deep breaths. "I can't believe I drew first to go…"
"You'll be fine," Sweden said, patting him on the shoulder. "Just go out there and be yourself."
"Yeah!" Denmark cheered. "But don't be angry if I outshine you! I go third tonight, after all!"
Sweden glared murderously at Denmark before looking at Finland again. "You'll be fine."
"Lycka till, Mamma!" Åland cheered, hugging Hanatamago to her chest.
"Tack," Finland said, smiling slightly. He took another deep breath and faced the stage. "Well…here I go."
Finland received a generous applause as he walked onstage and took a seat at the stool in front of the microphone. He tested the strings of his guitar very briefly before he signaled he was ready.
"WOO-HOO!" Sealand cheered.
"You're pretty enthusiastic," Norway observed blandly.
"Because Papa-Finland is going to be singing about ME!" Sealand cheered.
Norway blinked. "What?"
Finland began playing in time with the piano behind him. He was conscious of everyone staring at him, but he didn't think about it as he leaned into the microphone. "Peter is smart…he knows each European country by heart. He like to sit under an apple tree on his yard…And wait for an apple to fall."
"I tried to grow an apple tree," Sealand said. "But I have no soil!"
"When Peter is nine…His teacher tells him this planet is dying." Finland began to relax a little more, and could look at the audience. "That someone needs to put and put an end to it all. And so when Peter comes home…He tells his mom…
"I'm going out in the world to save our planet. And I ain't comin' back until she's saved…"
"And I DID save the planet!" Sealand punctuated. "But you all won't acknowledge it!"
"Gud," Norway groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.
"Peter is young," Finland continued to sing. "He tries to talk but no one listens to him…"
"You see?" Sealand pointed out to Norway. "He is singing about me!"
"I get it!" Norway snapped. "Just stop talking! You're acting like America!"
"Hey!" America cried out indignantly.
"…You were talking, too," Japan said quietly.
From the side of the stage, Hanatamago let out a loud bark. Suddenly, he jumped out of Åland's arms and ran out onstage.
"Hanatamago!" Åland cried out. She took off after him. "Stanna!"
"Åland!" Sweden shouted, but stopped in his tracks as the little girl rushed out onstage, right as Finland was singing! "Skita!"
"Wow, she took off!" Denmark laughed.
"Hey!" Sealand cried out. "Åland is running out onstage!"
Norway sat up a little straighter in his seat. "Uh oh…"
"He walked…his way to see King and Parliament." Finland stumbled in his song and gaped slightly as his daughter knelt down in front of him to grab Hanatamago. "But they all turned their heads and walked away…"
"Elak, Hanatamago!" Åland scolded the dog obliviously. "Du får inte springa ut på scenen medan mamma utför. Fundera över vad som skulle hända om…"
"Da da dam, da da da da da da, da da dam…" Finland continued to sing.
Åland realized her situation. She looked to her right and saw over 30,000 people staring at her. She yelped in alarm and stood up, clutching Hanatamago to her. After looking around frantically for a moment, she darted behind Finland to hide from all the eyes.
"And now I'm going out in the world to save our planet." Finland finished the song as best as he could, with Åland kneeling behind him. "And I ain't comin' back until she's saved…"
"That little girl was cute, crashing the stage!" America laughed. "Put her back out there!"
"There's always bound to be a stage crasher," Spain mused.
Finland finished the song and got a roaring applause. As he stood up he took Åland by the hand and pulled her to his seat. They both bowed to the audience and left the stage.
Cells phones began to hum almost immediately in certain countries pockets. They all reached for their phones to see the results.
"We gave him zero points," Romano told Italy as he checked his phone.
Italy pouted, but still checked it. "Yep, zero points!"
"I gave him five points," Poland said.
"N-Nothing," Latvia stammered.
"I also gave him nothing," Spain said. Netherlands and Belgium concurred with him.
"Zero points," San Marino read sagely from his phone. "It doesn't look good for Finland…"
Norway checked his phone. "Twelve points." He snapped it shut. "I already gave out a perfect score. My judge must not give a damn, either…"
"Two points," Germany read from backstage. "And still nothing from Aniki!"
"Seven points," Sweden said stoically, showing Finland his cell phone.
"I gave you five," Denmark offered.
"Förlåt mig, Mamma!" Åland wailed.
"Jag inte arg," Finland told her soothingly. "Men använd lite känsla nästa gång."
"She probably gets it from her older brother," Greenland said.
"B-But it was cute," Faroe cut in. "You singing about Sealand, and then Åland runs out onstage with you!"
Finland forced a smile, though his shoulders drooped. "I…don't think it went over well with the audience."
It had been a long and exhaustive search, but England finally found it. He'd been sidetracked because he thought he saw an alyphyn, but now wasn't sure if he had seen it or if it was part of his imagination.
But now he found the door—the green room he'd been looking for. And all of the rage he'd carried inside him for two days was starting to spill out.
Not bothering with the doorknob, England kicked the door straight open and stormed inside. "IRELAND!" he hollered at the top of his voice. "HOW DARE YOU SNEAK INTO MY HOUSE AND STEAL MY TERRITORY!"
A room full of heads turned, and England froze. The anger faded into shock and horror as he regarded the many people staring at him.
All of his former territories were in there. At least, all of those he'd called over the past two days, which was nearly all of them. Even Australia was there, and Wy was curled up next to him!
England stammered for a moment before the anger came back. "What the bloody hell! You all told me you were busy and couldn't help me! And WHEN did you get here, Australia? I just talk to you an hour ago!"
Australia shrugged remorselessly, his koala glared at England murderously from the top of his head. "I came after New Zealand and Wy told me you contacted them about your boy band. Seriously, mate, you contacted my little sister before me for your boy band?"
"WHY did all of you refuse if you were going to be here?" England screamed. He glared at Scotland and Wales, who were playing Go-Fish with India and Cameroon. "And you two! What the hell are you doing in here?"
"Sod off!" Scotland snapped, giving him the middle finger. "We agreed to do your stupid song with you, but we don't need to hang around you!"
"And we wouldn't miss this for the world!" Australia laughed.
"So you came here to humiliate me?" England began having terrible flashback to his 2010 performance, when all of his former territories heckled him mercilessly during his song. "IRELAND!" he hollered once more. "Where the bloody hell are you?"
"Hmm?" From the back of the room, Ireland stood up. "Are you talking to me, England?"
"Where is Northern Ireland?" England snapped. "Give him to me! He's supposed to be part of MY performance!"
Ireland's green eyes narrowed dangerously at her brother. "…Really? And how might he be part of your performance when he's part of mine?" she dismissed him with her back to tend to Northern Ireland. Even though they were in the back of the room, England could see her slicking the little boy's red hair up so it stood straight.
"You snuck into my house and stole him from me!" England shouted. "You knew I intended to have him in my performance, so you sabotaged me with MY SIBLING!"
Ireland quickly turned back around, her eyes glowing with hate. "Your sibling! I think not! I believe he has the name Ireland as part of his name, not England! And while we're on the subject of stealing territories, wouldn't you say you're being a hypocritical muc, my brother? Considering the methods in which you used to acquire ALL OF US to be part of you!"
"You…it…" England stared at everyone in the room, who was either glaring at him or ignoring him. Frustrated beyond belief, he simply screamed in rage and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
…Wow. This chapter ended up being waaaaay longer than I intended, so I only had room for one performance. That will change with future chapters. Here are some quick notes:
- The start of the first semi-finals was plagued with technical issues. In many countries viewers couldn't hear broadcasts by their commentators. Many commentators had to be heard via their cell phones. Then there were the first five performances, Poland, Norway, Albania, Armenia, and Turkey, all of which were in fact favorites to qualify. Apparently viewers in a lot of countries claim they couldn't hear the singing, or they didn't see the phone number to send in votes. Some voters in numerous countries have even claimed that when they sent in their votes they got a message back that said 'the voting has closed', or a variant of this. I'm not trying to sound biased towards Poland, but it looked like during Magdalena Tul's performance her microphone failed her. At times I could see her singing into her mic but I couldn't hear her. It's probably why she started screaming the song at the end…;_;. I guess the sound failed completely in Spain when Norway performed, because many viewers heard nothing but silence. The issues were fixed half-way into the program, although the sound would later fail again for Iceland and even Greece at the end of the show, though both countries qualified. It's a real shame, especially since it doesn't seem like the first five countries were judged fairly, and ESC has only come out and acknowledged the issues with the commentary. Everything else they blame on regional broadcastings. I hope the best for all of them next year.
- Sealand, at the beginning, is singing the song Chester, by William Billings. This was more or less the unofficial anthem of the American soldiers during the Revolutionary War, and was the second most popular song of the time behind Yankee Doodle. So, you can probably see why this song pissed England off, lol.
- Sealand's comment about saving the world of course refers to the Christmas Bloodbath 2010, where he did save the world. Long story short, countries were being kidnapped by bizarro/shadow versions of themselves and Sealand saved everyone. Of course, it was a very traumatizing experience for the countries and so all of them are pretending it didn't happen, ala "it was all a dream". Poor Sealand. Oh, and Denmark was passed out drunk during the Bloodbath, only making an appearance for the after-party after the shadow people were gone, lol.
- A boggart is a mythical creature from English lore that inhabits homes and creates havoc. They look like gnomes but they're filthy. Their only purpose is to constantly torment the people living in a house, and they thrive on their misery. One true way to get rid of a boggart is to be so annoying to them that they can't handle it. But boggarts are incredibly annoying creatures, so it's near impossible to get rid of them. The best solution offered to victims of boggarts is to move out of the house as fast as possible. They have to do it quickly; otherwise the boggart will pick up on their intentions and simply follow them to their new home. This information can be found at the website: 'Mythical Creatures Guide'.
- 50 Euros is the equivalent of 71 US dollars.
- Yes, Bulgaria and Romania's relationship is said to be "very intense", as they entered the European Union at the same time, and have very close economic relations.
- Belarus's actual entry this year was the song I Love Belarus by Anastasia Vinnikova. The song she sang however to qualify to represent Belarus in Eurovision was the song played in the montage, Born in Belorussia. It caused quite a bit of controversy, as you can imagine, and the lyrics had been changed initially to say I am Belorussia, before they changed the song entirely.
- Sealand's human name is Peter Kirkland. And I think it was the greatest coincidence in the world that the subject in Paradise Oskar's song was also named Peter, lol!
- Alphyns are wolf-dragon creatures of Germanic origin and they're popular in mythological sense because they're supposed to be incredibly rare. This information can also be found at the website, Mythical Creatures Guide.
Here's the translations for songs not in English, as can be found at Eurovision's website:
Bulgaria
"No! Znam! Shte namerya sila v men! I nebeto do dostigna! Na inat! Na inat!"
("But I know you'll find strength in me! Even to reach the sky! In spite of everything! In spite of everything!")
Poland
"Jestem! Twym natchnieniem, dla łez ukojeniem! Twój świat kręci się wokół mnie—Jesteś! Moim cieniem! Na każde skinienie…Pojawiasz się tuż okok mnie Skaczesz w ogień gdy chcę…"
("I'm your inspiration, I'm tears' consolation! Your world revolves around me! You are my shadow, to the beck and call! You appear right next to me! You jump into the fire when I want to…")
Cyprus:
"San aggelos s'agapisa! Gyrna stin agkalia mou! Pes mou kai pali m'agapas!"
("Like an angel I loved you! Come back into my arms! Tell me one more time that you love me!")