Solairia: Hey hey! A new person and a new story. I hope you like it! Take it away Brooklyn.
Brooklyn: Solairia doesn't own Hetalia in any way, shape or form.
Bronx: But she does own us Boroughs! Woot!
"It's 5 o'clock in the morning…"
"And?"
A silverette groans at her siblings. Her glossy jade-green eyes meet a set of other color pools. It reminds of a bag of Skittles or M&Ms. She rubs her head in frustration and in a slight anger. Why the hell is she out of the comfort of her own bed for a family meeting?
She had no idea.
All she recalls is her Hispanic sister waking her up and dragged her out of her bed…literally. And the next thing she knows, herself, her sister along with a three brothers two of which are actually conscious are in the living room sitting on the couches as if they were in a scene straight out of the "The Godfather."
That was a good movie; I have to remember to get a copy from Romano later.
Coming back into reality, the silverette remembers she was in an upsetting and aggravating situation.
"Before we start, is there anything anyone would like to say?"
She raises her hand.
"Alexis?"
"Why the hell are we having a meeting this early?"
The blond teen stands up from his seat as if he was already tired of looking up at his sister that was much shorter then himself...which he was and sighs. His hair is slicked back with maybe a few stubborn strands of hair sticking out. For some reason or another, he is wearing a business suit with the blazer carefully laid down over the couch. That probably hints that he just came home from some sort of important "business" or something close to that. He resembled a snobby rich kid that wouldn't understand the value of a dollar if it came and slapped him with a watt of cash. Not that that was the case of anything, he just seemed liked it. Yep! …not at all.
"Because today's going to be extremely busy as it is every year."
"Richard…speak English before I knock the contacts out of your eyes!" Alexis clenches her fist as if ready to start a fight and glares at Richard. Her patience grows thin with every second that the little preppy boy doesn't explain.
Clearing his throat, Richard proceeded to explain the situation.
"A-hem, well, if you don't mind can someone tell me the date then?"
Everyone toke out their sidekicks from God knows where they came from and checked the date.
A blondish-brown Hispanic was the first to announce.
"It's July 4th! So it's America's birthday! Muy Bien!
"Exactly Maria! This means we're having visitors. Which if I'm correct consists of our siblings and the other nations"
A curly haired blonde sits up from the couch he was sleeping on. His eyes are lazily opened and stare at Manhattan in interest.
"Yo~ what's this I hear about visitors and party. Will there be beer?"
Alexis and her other brother, Julian stare at their now awaken sibling.
"Go back to sleep Staten Island…"
"Huh?" Staten Island lazily stares at the other two boroughs in confusion. "What did I miss?"
Maria then scoots over to Stanley and pats his head as if he were an adorable puppy that was in dire need of attention.
"Just go back to sleep, Stanley."
Now that that was out of the way the other two directed their attention to Manhattan. A mix of blue and green stare at the pink eyed gentleman. They weren't sure if they should be angry or exhausted.
"Mi hermano! You woke us up at 5 o'clock in the morning for this! This is bullcrap!
"I'm trying to figure out whether or not I should shoot you or go back to bed."
"Oh come on Queens, Brooklyn, this could be fun."
The Bronx's hair looks like a bird nest fell off a cliff, onto the road and was ran over. Her golden-yellow eyes looked at them in excitement.
Brooklyn let out a side and brushed her silver hair back with her fingers.
"Bronx, as much as I like parties, I hate setting up for them and cleaning up after other peoples messes."
Manhattan allowed a snicker to escape his lips. A gentleman my ass. "Not like you clean your own mess…"
"Shut up, Manhattan! You're the last one to talk! Anyways, why is the party going to be here? Last time I checked, Washington isn't busy today."
"Um actually…"
Everyone's gaze shoots straight from Manhattan to Staten Island. His purple eyes looked rather innocent when he was tired. Just another one of those side effects of his famous power naps when Manhattan was lecturing. Not surprisingly.
"He has some sort of important meeting today, and like, wouldn't be able to set up."
"When in hells name did you hear that!" Everyone peered down at the now startled teen.
"Um… like a week ago, I don't remember, I was totally wasted."
"Typical…"
"Stanley, you're just as bad as a drunken England when you're drinking."
"…And smoking…"
"And drugs…"
"Why stop there! The list goes on! I wonder how you ended up this way!"
"Then again, guess who raised us."
Everyone went silent and shivered at the thought of their original care taker. Horrible food, unwanted lectures and, in Brooklyn's case, the usual punishments for not listening to the house hold rules and courtesy.
"I hated that bastard… he couldn't cook a decent meal if the directions were right in front of him"
"You should have followed the rules more then."
"Shut up, Bronx! You wanna pick a fight!"
"I don't pick fights I make them!"
"Well you just made you with my 42!"
"Bring it!"
"AHEM! Ladies!"
Everyone's attention goes back to Manhattan, who seems rather upset about the short attention spans his siblings seem to have. Then again, he can never stick to one thing.
"Before you two commence barbarically blowing each others brains out with you "legal" weaponry. Might I suggest we tidy up the house before Alfred comes in and finds the place a total disaster. Which, might I add, result into the rarely seen angry American going off upon us like a Cowboy is when ranching a stray cow that refuses to follow the rest of the herd."
"Right! We should work on the house as of immediately!"
"I guess so."
Staten Island jumps up from the couch and gives the air a Falcon Punch.
"Yeah! I'll go order the beer!" As he was about to run out towards the door, he trips over a pile of trash in the middle of the room.
Brooklyn face palms herself and groans as she acknowledges the messy state of the house. Tying a bandana to her head, she sighs.
"This is going to be a long day…"