It was a regular winter's day, being terribly cold just as it should, especially in England. It was one of those days, where when one wanted to do something so bad, such as going to the beach, it was simply impossible. It was one of those days, where just to keep yourself occupied, you'd twiddle your thumbs and read the street directory. So if it was enough to drive a regular run-of-the-mill human to do such things, just what was Arthur, personification of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, doing?
Going about his own business, that's what Arthur was doing. It was nothing interesting, really. He was simply sitting in his house, sipping his tea after an exhausting world meeting and just about ready to doze off (it was barely even three in the afternoon. Feliciano must've been rubbing off on him). He honestly no longer saw the point in holding such inane meetings. As though they actually ever reached a solution to their problems! If anything, they only amounted to even more! At the same time, he supposed, it wasn't as though it was acceptable for him to simply boycott them. He'd have to keep complaining to himself.
With (at least, what he thought) a well-deserved break, he eased into his chair and let his eyelids flutter shut slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. Now, the meeting was over, he was in his own home, he was going to sleep and there weren't any annoying distractions to stop him from doing so.
So as if to prove him wrong, Reality sent forth an annoying distraction to do so.
His green eyes snapped wide open when suddenly an incredibly bright light pervaded his senses, only seeing white. Was one of the faeries playing tricks on him again? Or was this some sort of prank? Had someone (someone, as in either Alfred, Francis or that Prussian) followed him back?
Slowly, the light dissipated, revealing that there was indeed a person in the room, but it was neither nation nor faerie. Rather, an angel stood in the center of the room, large white wings fluttering in the air. A female angel, and one that looked suspiciously like Heracles at that, what with the perpetually messy brown hair and lazy green eyes.
"Arthur Kirkland, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland," who jumped upon hearing the angel speak, "you have been condemned guilty of disrupting the peace of the nations…"
For a second, Arthur stood there, slack-jawed. Okay, so an angel popped in out of absolutely nowhere, in his own house without warning, and was now accusing him of disrupting the peace? He was disrupting the peace? As though there weren't any nations out there doing worse to the peace than he was! And what exactly was he doing that was disrupting the peace, anyway? All he'd wanted to do was go to sleep; if anything, it was the angel that was disrupting the peace! He opened his mouth, ready to retort, but the angel took no heed, instead continuing her speech as if it didn't matter whether Arthur was really listening or not.
"…and as a result, have been sentenced to life as Britannia Angel until world peace is attained."
"…WHAT?"
"You needn't worry. You'll only be Britannia Angel when peace is disrupted. Once peace is restored, you will return to your normal state. When world peace is truly attained, you will never be Britannia Angel again."
"Wait, why-"
He wanted to shout – what in the world was with all that Britannia Angel nonsense? – but before he could even try his voice died in his throat, only to rise back up again as a sharp pang hit his shoulder blades, a keen edge protruding from his back as he bit back a scream. He felt something slide out, but that was one of his least concerns in comparison to the insane pain he suddenly felt. It pulled against his back, before the Briton let out a shaky breath. As soon as the pain had come, it was gone.
"W-What…"
When he looked back up, the angel was gone. Bloody bastard.
He winced as he tried to stand, supporting himself with his hand on the table. To think that suddenly he was some sort of peacekeeper after being accosted of actually disrupting peace! The angel hadn't even stayed to explain properly! As if he knew what he was supposed to do! (This was all, of course, assuming that it wasn't just a big fat joke.)
Arthur sighed, finally standing on his own. Hm. The room seemed rather cold, even for it being a winter's day. Why…
"…what in the world?"
The Briton looked down blankly to find that rather than having his stiff brown suit on, instead he was wearing a white tunic of some sort (one that he found, after twirling around a bit, was suspiciously susceptible to fluttering up and revealing much more than he wanted to…), his pants having mysteriously vanished. On top of that (or rather, below), even his shoes had been changed; from his dark dress shoes to strange, old-looking sandals.
So far, with all of the evidence, Arthur wouldn't have been surprised if Heracles had popped out and said, "Ha! You've been pranked!" And… were those wings on his back?
He craned his neck slightly that there were indeed, wings protruding from his back, pure white and, peculiarly, unmarred by blood. He was so sure that all that pain would have amounted to at least some blood being drawn…
In awe, Arthur flexed his wings slightly, pain momentarily forgotten. He ran a hand through the feathers, lips twitching upward at the unexpected softness his fingers met. So they really were real! When she had said 'angel', he hadn't really thought that she meant it literally. A soft glow caught his eye and he looked into what was left of his tea only to find something of a halo on his head.
He could only wonder how completely stupid he must've looked.
'This reminds me of that stupid movie America made. Tooth Fairy, or something…' the Briton thought, somewhat bitterly, repressing another heavy sigh. Well, being bitter was not getting him anywhere. Although at the same time, trying not to be bitter wasn't exactly getting him anywhere either, as for the next few moments, he simply stood silently, wondering just what the hell he had to do in order to go back to normal. (It wasn't as though he was in a hurry to get rid of his wings, but they really were getting in the way – plus, his wings combined with his current outfit made him look like a complete idiot…) Okay, so he was the Britannia Angel, or whatever. And that meant…
'Damn it. Someone's disrupting the peace.'
Grumbling, the Briton began to stalk around the house, wondering what the heck he was supposed to do. It weren't as though he suddenly had an epiphany in regards to where exactly he was supposed to go! He didn't even know what the problem was, or where! It could've been halfway across the globe! What was it, anyway? Had someone burned down a bank? Had they started a war? The scenarios that his panicked mind conjured up only got worse, and it wasn't exactly helping with his rationality. When he found that his aimless walking wasn't getting him anywhere or anything done quicker, he looked down to the stupid wand-thing in frustration.
"Doesn't this darned thing do anything?" he muttered, tapping the star irritably.
He really should've expected the bright light that engulfed him afterwards.
After the light (not all too different from the one that very nearly blinded him earlier with the angel) slowly disappeared, he blinked twice, rubbing his eyes in distraught as he suddenly found himself in the presence of Yao and Kiku, who stared at him dumbfounded, mouths gaping. Alright, of all the places, why the hell did he end up there? It was then he found the source of their (and therefore his) current troubles; Im Yong Soo, who was being impossibly noisy and was bothering the other nations, which was, in turn, bothering him. Great; there he was, worrying himself almost to death to find that the 'disruption of peace' was as trivial as this!
Despite his bitter thoughts, he somehow managed to keep a smile on his face, regardless of its authenticity as he stammered out, ignoring the stunned stares of the Asian nations, "Looks like you're in a bind… I'm an angel who helps those in need. I can make miracles-"
"England-san's lost it…!"
"Why are you here? And what's with that get-up?"
Well. That was incredibly rude. (That didn't make it any less true, of course…) Of course he looked completely bloody insane, but that didn't mean that they had to shove it in his face! It weren't as though he had a choice in the matter! He hadn't gone to purposefully humiliate himself; I mean, shit! Appearing in a toga and a kid's wand to one of the only people (well, person, that person specifically being Kiku while Yao openly displayed his displeasure) that respected him – he was never going to live this down…
"Er, I mean! It looks cool once you look closer!"
"R-Right! Cheer up, we wanna see the miracle!"
'I have a job to do! Unless I finish this, I'll never go back to normal!'
"Right! You want to see it! You need me! Take this!"
With this renewed determination he stood, and, for the moment, he'd ignore the surprised faces as he whipped out his wand, pointing it at Yong Soo and praying to God that it'd work.
'Somehow, I don't think it'd be very helpful to scream expelliarmus. Darn that Potter brat…'
No sooner had he thought this, the star on his wand began to shine, and with an odd 'pop', Yong Soo had transformed into – of all things – a baby. Arthur was absolutely speechless. Why a baby? Wouldn't that make things even worse? And in the first place, what caused it? Was it the expelliarmus crack?
'A-Anyway, I have to cover up…!'
"See! Isn't he cute! It's a miracle! Now, even if he's loud, you'll forgive him!"
For a moment, the Asian nations shared a dubious look at the young Yong Soo. Obviously, they had shared the same thoughts as him, but, finding that the Korean was no longer exclaiming loudly several copyright infringements and trying to grope anyone, they quickly broke out into smiles and agreements of his 'cuteness' as he spoke in childish Korean. Seeing as they were satisfied (and distracted), the Briton quickly ran off, managing to escape without detection. Just when he thought he could relax, however, he felt his wings begin to recede into his back. Suddenly feeling panicked, he wished himself back to his house with all his might before his wand could also disappear. Another pop later, he found himself back in the room it all started.
Back in the confines of his home, he relaxed, easing himself into his chair. If he kept on turning into Britannia Angel for such trivial matters, he was never going to be able to live through it. Why did peace seem so unattainable at the moment? And anyway, would it even count as world peace if every nation except him felt peaceful?
Maybe he'd be able to finally get his nap. He tried to close his eyes, attempting to forget all that had happened (and failing miserably, mind you) before suddenly he heard the door click open and a person walk in. The blond gasped, suddenly alert, pushing his chair back as he stood. He hadn't heard anyone knock! Did he leave his door unlocked? But which nation was obnoxious enough to enter his house without permission…?
…Alfred. Of course.
"Hey England, where's- you're naked! Where's your clothes?"
Wait, what?
Arthur looked down for the second time to discover that yes, he was indeed naked. Naked, as in, all of his clothes had mysteriously disappeared, just like last time, except this time they weren't replaced. Naked, as in, the American currently had a full view of his birthday suit. Naked, as in…
Okay, what the hell! The temperature in London certainly did not skyrocket to the temperature it was now!
"Out! Out! Get out, you bloody git!"
