Drop Dead Engwand
"Do you really want to hear it Canada?" America asked, seated so his arms and legs extended across the couch, taking up its entirety. Well, Canada being so close to America geographically and therefore easier to reach, naturally tended to tire of hearing America's stories much quicker than let's say Hong Kong or Australia. However, he did want to know this particular story. It did help he played a small role in it, and that America refused to talk about it willingly. Today, Canada had the advantage of finding Alfred in a talkative mood and holding, well, let's call it apple juice for the kiddies at home.
He nodded, and America took a swig of said apple juice, becoming rosy in the cheeks. Alfred delicately turned the glass without saying a word, making Matthew think he'd lost his chance. Ultimately, Alfred put the apple juice down, staring at the ceiling as if that would help him picture the scene. Eventually, he spoke, and Canada closed his eyes in an attempt picture it as well.
Well, the problems really started after I met England and France as you well know. Luckily, Sweden, Finland, and The Netherlands generally left me alone, granted, none of them realized I was a nation at the time.
"Eh, 'ere you go?" America asked, walking as fast as his little feet would carry him. Alfred had seen some of these strangers before, albeit while he was between his mother's legs which only granted a partial view of what was going on. He was curious about these men, especially once he had figured out some of them were like him in ways that involved more than a similar complexion. The man stopped and crouched down to meet his eye level.
"Do you have a home little boy?" the man asked, and America nodded. The man frowned, probably thinking he was lying. Alfred turned his attention to some nearby trees. He should return his own camp soon before his people attacked the poor man. The man, Finwand, if he remembered correctly, extended his hand. America backed away, having seen settlers snatch rabbits this way. He had yet to find any of them. Alfred fled in a knee jerk reaction when Finwand made a motion to grab him anyway, leaving Finland to wonder if he had scared the boy off. He had.
Then, of course, came the infamous scene where I chose England instead of France. Unfortunately, there was a slight communication error that made the next couple of weeks a living hell.
"I'm so glad we are going to live together from now on," Britain said, picking up America who rather liked the attention. His mother rarely picked him up, unless they needed to move quickly, or there was a risk of him drowning.
"I'm going to have the builders make a house right over there," he said, pointing to a spot in the open field near the stranger's village which his mother had told him to avoid. Well, technically, she had told him not to go into the village alone so this was probably still okay.
"Um, I have a mom," America said, deciding that would clear the issue up. England frowned, confusing America. People only looked at him that way when he made a mistake. He was just being honest.
"You do?" Britain said, using an ominous tone that terrified America, suddenly hanging out with Britain wasn't so fun anymore.
Canada don't give me that look. I know it seems like something I should have mentioned to the two right away, but at the time, the term brother was more of a token phrase to solidify one's bond with an ally. I had no idea that they wanted me to live with them. Needless to say, Britain didn't take the news well.
"Then, why the hell didn't you bloody mention it before?" he said, puffing his cheeks and clenching his fist in a way that greatly contrasted with America's first impression of him, well, maybe not the scary blue face.
America took a few quick steps back, tripping and falling on his bottom. America's eyes welled up with unshed tears, and he started to sniffle. England picked him up by his white robe. America started crying uncontrollably. He didn't want to end up like his lost bunnies. The man held him close and began rocking him back and forth. He squirmed and fought the growing drowsiness. Despite his previous anxiety, America found himself closing his eyes. Britain promptly shushed him and increased the tempo of the rocking. Eventually, America couldn't remember why he wanted to stay awake so badly and fell asleep. When he woke up, America found himself in a tent alone and quickly rose. The tent was nothing like the mud huts that he was currently used to, and he ran in a panic only to be caught by Britain on his way out.
"Well, look who is finally up," Britain commented idly. America kicked and struggled, knowing his mom was probably aware of his absence by now. He seemed to get the idea and set him down but snatched him up again when America tried to bolt. When he kept struggling, the man put him down again. This time, Britain held America in place and would not let go no matter what he tried. America eventually gave up running in place and sat down.
"Here," Britain said, handing him what America thought was a rock. He set the scone down on the floor where he thought it belonged, making Arthur sigh.
"You're not used to anything but slabs of meat are you?" he asked, and America shook his head.
"Orn, eans, squa, blublu, oup, bre," America babbled out other food, but Britain scratched his head in wonder.
"It's very cute you're trying to speak, but I can't understand a word you're saying," he said, making America pout.
"Hey, it's good, see?" Arthur demonstrated eating another scone
I was willing enough to try it once.
"Bweh," America said, scrunching up his face.
He just gave up and gave me meat.
"Fine, we'll introduce you to vegetables later," Britain vowed, making America turn around as he munched on his meat.
"Orn?" he asked.
"No, I do not know where you're bloody "orn" is," he said. America swallowed the last bit of meat and crossed his arms.
I was pretty ticked by that point.
"Don't go wandering by yourself,"Britain demanded, but America paid him no mind and disappeared into some nearby bushes. Before Britain could snatch him up again, his mom stepped forward .
"Go home," she said, stringing her bow. America hid behind her although she scolded him in one of her many tongues to go hide in the bushes. The man took out his sword, and America's eyes gravitated toward the shining object. He'd never seen anything like that before.
"Make me," Britain said, wearily eyeing the bow as he stepped forward.
"Go hide, if I do not come back soon, run to the village, they will protect you and teach you what you need to know," his mom said. Britain attacked, and his mom held him off with her bow, but the sword made a considerable crack in the wood. America had a bad feeling but listened all the same.
As far as England was concerned, he had won me fair and square, and it didn't matter that I had a mom. He would simply accustom me to a European lifestyle. Luckily, I was pretty bull headed, but hey, that's another story. If you catch me in a good mood again, maybe, I'll tell you the rest.
I cannot stress enough that this was inspired by an impromptu skit my cousin and I did and is not supposed to be historically accurate. Also, Britain generally comes across as a bit of a jerk when I voice America. Don't take it too seriously. It's supposed to be funny, but unlike the quiz, the tone shifted considerably after I wrote it down. Hopefully, you still end up enjoying it anyway.