Summary: Bioshock Infinite crossover- Due to a drunken Norway and a misfired spell, Canada and Denmark are stuck in Columbia, with no idea why everyone wants to kill them and less ability to deal with each other by the second.
EDIT: 11/11/2014- fixed spelling errors and made some slight changes
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chapter one
That Troublesome Dress!
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With the wind effectively tousling his hair, Matthew couldn't help but to feel extremely annoyed.
By now, his annoyance surpassed what he felt during his and Alfred's last horror movie marathon, during which the smaller country would not shut up about his and England's latest argument, and when he wasn't ranting he was screaming and clinging to Matthew like a koala.
"How is this fair?" the Canadian asked aloud, looking up to the cloudless sky while tactfully ignoring the shouts and gunshots coming from behind him.
"Why does this kind of thing always happen to me?" he continued, pointedly ignoring the irritated shout of "Matthew, would you quit your moping and help me?!" from behind him.
"I bet if Alfred got sent through a magic portal into an alternate universe and time, he wouldn't end up in a, surprisingly comfortable, dress that doesn't go with his eyes at all!" he said bitterly, tugging at the sleeves of said mismatching-dress in dismay.
"That's what you're worried about?" Mathias shrieked from behind him, and Matthew looked over his shoulder to him and saw him jamming his weird hook-thing into a guy's face and Matthew had to suppress a gag at the amount of blood, "Whether your dress matches your goddamned eyes?!"
"If I'm going to be wearing a dress I want to at least look good in it!" Matthew snapped at the older nation, huffing in irritation. "You just don't understand!"
Whipping someone upside the head with the butt of his pistol, Mathias swore very loudly. "Matthew, now is not the time to be going through your teenage-girl-angst phase!"
"Screw you, Mathias, you're not my real dad!"
"Oh Norse gods, tell me that this is not happening right now!"
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It had been a fairly regular world meeting, America was being a jerk, England was being a bitch, France was being a bastard, Russia was intimidating people with his large pipe, and Germany was trying to restore order, but in the middle of it all an irregular event occurred: Norway had gotten a rather 'great' idea.
Having attended the meeting with a rather killer hangover and seeing as he was still more than a bit drunk, his 'great' idea was not really great and was actually quite awful, especially so since it was fueled by murderous rage.
While he was in his stage of still-a-bit-drunk-and-not-quite-functional, Norway was unsurprisingly enough drunk that he mistook Denmark for America and Canada for France, and, in terms with his 'great' plan, decided to magic them away so they would quit hindering the meeting.
In his still-a-bit-drunk-and-not-quite-functional-but-that's-okay state, he completely over looked the fact that it wasn't socially acceptable and was in fact totally frowned upon to magic away your fellow personifications merely because they got on your nerves a bit, and he also completely forgot that he didn't know the counter-spell to bring them back.
In his still-a-bit-drunk-and-not-quite-fucntional-but-that's-okay-he's-perfectly-fine state, he was blissfully unaware of how much of a problem he was causing.
At least, he was unaware until about ten seconds after he magicked away Canada and Denmark.
That was when the yelling started for the ones in the meeting, and that was when the freaking-the-hell-out started for Canada and Denmark.
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"Matthew, grab a gun and help me, damnit!" Mathias shouted, looking like he just stepped out of his viking days with all of the blood he was coated in and with the terrifying glare he was shooting at Matthew.
In turn, Matthew glared right back. "Like hell am I ruining this dress with all of that blood, you're practically bathing in it over there and I refuse to subject myself to that!" he declared, hands on his hips, before he paused and watched in wide eyed shock as one of the guys attacking Mathias yanked a gun out of a barrel of fireworks.
"Okay, that didn't look safe at all... Don't worry though, Mathias, I'll go and look for something useful to help you in your fight! I just saw a guy pull a gun of out of a place no gun should be, so this should be easy!"
Instead of being incredibly grateful, like Matthew was hoping he'd be, Mathias chose that time to swear very heatedly in Old Norse. "Goddammit, are you kidding me? Stop worrying about the damn dress and shoot someone's brains out!"
Matthew, currently digging around in a barrel of fireworks and completely ignoring everything that Mathias was saying, let out a cheer. "Hey Mathias, look, I found some money! Since I don't have pockets in this dress, I'm just going to toss it to you, alright?" he shouted brightly, before tossing it with a flick of his wrist to Mathias, who let out a roar of frustration as he shot the last guy in the face, and the coin rolled right past him and into the now faceless guy's dead body.
There was a beat of silence.
"Aw, man, you didn't catch it." Matthew complained, ignoring the glare Mathias was fixing him with. "Oh, no, don't pick it up," he said as Mathias made no move to pick it up, "it's all ruined now anyway, all gross and covered in dead people blood. Ew."
Mathias threw his weapon to the floor with a frustrated growl. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I think it's the dress." Matthew confessed with a shrug. "It's on and then it's like there's a complete personality change, like wow, instead of helping my kind of dad not die, let's go rummaging through barrels of fireworks for things that shouldn't logically be there and that neither of us have any use for!"
At Mathias' look of disbelief, Mathew sheepishly shrugged. "Sorry."
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"M-Mattie?!" America exclaimed in horror, staring at the quickly fading poof of smoke where his brother had been standing mere seconds before.
"Mathias-?" Sweden said in shock, with Finland and Iceland beside him looking similarly alarmed.
Horrified, England whirled around to look at a surprised Norway, quickly demanding, "What did you do?"
Norway blinked. "What makes you think that I did anything?" he asked, and in his still-slightly-drunk ways he decided that now was when he should make his 'grand' escape from the room, and as such he was now slowly inching towards the meeting room door.
"I heard you say the spell, you twat!"
"Spell? Wait, you just magicked away my little brother?" America demanded, turning to Norway with a dangerous look on his face. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Netherlands, in all of his built-like-a-fucking-oak-tree terrifying glory, stood up and slammed his hands on the table to get everyone's full attention. "Where the hell did you send them?" he growled, and Norway was slightly scared. Slightly, which was also how drunk he was, which should tell how close he was to shitting his pants in pure unadulterated terror.
"Well," he said with a slight wince, "I don't know. The spell didn't specify. If it makes anyone feel any better, the spell wasn't intended for them." he offered, and there was a brief silence.
Now he was completely aware of the explosion this would cause, and was prepared to reach over and cover Emil's ears.
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"I miss my cap." Mathias said sourly, sitting on an old crate with a rather pathetic look on his face.
Matthew nodded in sympathy. "I miss my shoes; these aren't comfortable at all!" After a short pause, he added, "I miss socks, too."
With a loud groan, Mathias dropped his head into his hands. "Screw your shoes, and your socks. They're not important." he said emphatically.
Matthew gaped. "How is your cap more important than my shoes and socks?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I was talking about a specific item, and not a thing in general?" he snapped, before sitting up straight and sending Matthew an annoyed look. "You know what, I'm actually not sure if there's a worse person that could've been sent here with me than you."
"What?" Matthew asked, properly offended, "That's... That's actually a really jacked up thing to say. Seriously, it's not like I haven't been helping!"
Mathias shot him a sharp look. "You refused to help me kill those cops."
"My point exactly!" Matthew exclaimed, "I was helping you by not helping you!" he then paused, before muttering, "and I didn't want to get blood on my dress."
"That doesn't even make any sense, Matthew!" the taller man snapped, before bringing a hand back to his head. "Okay, you know what, that's fine, that's perfectly fine. Let's just... make a plan for our next fight, okay?" With a newly found hope, he pointed dramatically at a reasonably worried Matthew. "But first, we need to get you out of that dress."
The Canadian blinked. "And what do you suggest I wear, clothes from the people you killed?" At Mathias' more-than-slightly-insane grin, Matthew froze.
"What? No, I'm not wearing dead people clothes!"
Mathias smirked. "It's either dead people clothes or everyone gets to see whether you're wearing panties with that dress!"
At Matthew's horrified squeak, Mathias cackled.
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"Okay, Matthew, do you remember the battle plan?" Mathias asked, adjusting his hold on his newly found shotgun.
Matthew nodded, his cheeks puffed out in concentration. "Yeah. I use this," he waved the pistol a bit for emphasis, "to shoot people in the head and pulverize their brains. I do not, by any means, for any reason, stop killing people to go and look in barrels and behind pillars and in other illogical places for weapons and snacks to be, for anything at all, especially useless things like coins and soda pop." he paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. "I wonder if there would be any cool things in chocolate boxes?"
"No, Matthew, you are not going to go digging around in random boxes! Where would you even find a chocolate box?" The older demanded, sighing in frustration. "You know what, it's fine, let's just go kill some guys." he declared, cocking his gun, and with his free hand grabbed onto Matthew's wrist.
"Remember, kid; you're not wearing a ruin-able dress, so kill as many bastards as you like."
"But I don't like to kill anyone." Matthew said.
"Then kill as many as you can." Mathias said, idly wondering if Matthew would still be this irritating as a girl.
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"You know, Mathias," Matthew said while toeing a dead body away from himself with a disgusted whine, "you really did a good job on killing all of these people. Such a good job, in fact, that I pity whomever has to clean them up."
Mathias shot him a smirk. "You're just saying that to try and make me forget that you're wearing panties, aren't you?"
Matthew blushed. "...maybe I am, and maybe I most definitely am so shut your mouth."
"Why didn't you just take them off with the dress?"
"What, and go commando in a pair of dead people's pants?" the Canadian asked, properly revolted. "Ew, hell no. I don't know where these pants have been."
With a shrug, Mathias holstered his shotgun. "I bet that you're just too comfortable in them to take them off."
Matthew glared at him. "I bet that if you keep this up, then I'm not going to give you the next coin I find in a place where there should really, logically, be no coin, but I'm not going to question the coin's existence so it's okay."
Mathias gave him a confused look. "That didn't make much sense but alright." and then he paused. "Wait, no, you're not going to look for coins again, you're not wearing that dress anymore so bloodstains aren't a concern."
With a pause, Matthew gave him a guilty look. "Well, you know, I'm just not really liking this outfit right now, since it's, you know, drenched in dead people blood and a slight bit of dead people poo, but significantly less dead people poo and pee than the other dead people pants, so I was thinking that I'd just go ahead and, well, switch back into the dress."
Mathias gave him an even glare. "You're not serious."
With a firm nod, Matthew began to speak, "Yeah, I am. I just feel like I worked better in the dress, you know, and I-"
"We're not going back for it." Mathias cut in, effectively ruining all of Matthew's hopes and dreams like a proper father figure should.
Matthew gave him a very devastated look, before stomping his foot and crossing his arms. "Ugh, you're ruining my life!"
"Not this again, goddammit!"
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[Preview for chapter 2-
"Matthew, what the hell are you doing? Get over here and help me kill people!" Mathias shouted, putting another shotgun round through a soldier's head, effectively blowing it to all hell.
Matthew, from his spot by the pillar, frowned. "Yeah, you know, Mathias, I'm just not really into the whole killing thing, and I don't like all the blood getting in my hair, and well-"
"Do you miss the dress so much that you're willing to risk my life for it?!" Denmark shrieked in outrage, already knowing exactly what Matthew was doing.
"It's made with such a comfortable fabric and offers me maximum movement, of course I miss it that much! Besides, what do you offer me other than sarcasm and dead people blood? Not much, that's for sure!"
"Goddamnit, you little shit-"]
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A/N: This is an idea that's been rolling around in my head for a long time, and it's a relief to finally have it written and posted! I hope that you all enjoy it as much as I do.
I plan to make this story around 16 to 20 chapters long, although don't hold me to that!
Thanks so much for reading this, and feel free to review! It makes my day to know that I've made people laugh with my stories, and motivates me to write the next chapter faster.
Have a great day! xo