Hetalia CH. 2
Okay, so I try to wait for reviews and requests before I get started on any new chapters, so if you can get them in as fast as you can, that'd be great. And I am STILL TAKING REQUESTS. I'll actually take requests throughout the entire story, so feel free to ask any time. I feel like my chapters are way too short, so I'll try to change that. Now on to the story!
It was a normal World Conference meeting. Nations stood around a massive circular table, obviously built to sit many more than the nine countries currently occupying the space. England and France were arguing over something stupid. Germany was trying to get Italy to calm down after Russia scared him. Russia was trying to escape Belarus. Ukraine was trying to restrain Belarus. Japan was sitting politely in his seat, his hands folded in front of him. Nothing seemed to be wrong, except his left eye would twitch every now and then. And of course, America was trying to yell his mildly retarded ideas over all the other noise.
"Okay, everyone, I think we should replace all chain restaurants with McDonalds! Whaddya say? Great idea, right? Aha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" America started his signature laugh, standing oblivious among the chaos. Then something changed in the air. It felt more charged, like something big was about to happen. England was the first to notice.
"OH SHUT UP YOU BLOODY FROG, I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR—" Arthur cut off abruptly, turning around like an electric charge was sent up his spine. Francis peeked out from behind hands that were guarding his face from the punch England was about to throw.
"Do you feel that?" England said, looking around the room like something was going to come bursting through the wall.
"Uh…no. Do you feel okay, mon cheri?" France asked innocently, lowering his hands to touch England's shoulder. A bad idea.
"I told you not to call me that!" England snapped, whirling around and punching France full in the face. The blonde nation was flung backward and crashed into Belarus, who was sneaking around behind him to stealth-attack Russia. Belarus immediately threw Francis off of her back, flinging him, yet again, halfway across the room. This time he collided with Italy, who was standing at the edge of the furniture Francis had just been flung over. The blonde nation knocked the poor man face forward into Germany. The two Axis powers fell backwards together, Italy on top. France, laying face-down on the table, peeked over the side to see a…suggestive scene below him.
"Onhonhonhonhonhonhonhonhon." France French-laughed to himself quietly as a satisfied blush spread over his cheeks. Japan leaned over in his seat, equipped with his trusty camera. The flash went off mere seconds before Germany threw Italy off him, face burning red.
"Italy! Vhat vas zat?" Germany yelled, now standing. Italy was sitting on the floor, tears in the corners of his eyes.
"B-but it wasn't-a my fault, Germany! Someone hit-a me from behind." The brown-haired country sobbed. That was when Germany noticed Francis on the table. Germany's eyes blazed. Francis waved weakly. And France was airborne again. Francis crashed down at the center of the circular table, face up this time. He just stayed there, thinking about how awful his day was so far. First, his car broke down on the way to the meeting. Then he showed up and found out they moved to another conference room, and had to go looking around for the other countries for over an hour. The term 'fashionably late' doesn't really count when you show up over an hour late with dust and grease all over your suit. And then he was bounced around like a beach ball! When would things get better? Well, he was about to find out. Because at that moment, a green swirling portal opened about two feet above him.
And girls fell out. Pretty girls. Pretty girls in pajamas. Which caught the attention of the other nations as well. Even America shut up. They all spun towards the sound of a 'whoosh' coming from the direction of the table. There they saw Francis laying down under a portal. Then five girls dropped out of the opening in the air, falling directly onto the flirty country. At first, there was just a mass of limbs. Then the countries heard shouts, obviously coming from the females.
"Ow! That's my hand!"
"Get off my leg, fatty."
"You better get your foot outa' my face before I bite it off!"
"Whose arm is that?"
"I'm EATING SOMEONE'S HAIR, FOR THE LOVE OF OVERWATCH." The counties had no idea how to respond. Were they supposed to help girls they didn't even know? Besides, the females could be spies. For who, though? The nations of Hetalia were secret to the public. Well, when you're the secret personification of a country, you have a lot of other presidents out to get you. The nations were still deciding whether or not to help when a scream pierced the air.
"Get this pervert away from me!" A brunette fell away from the pile, kicking a familiar blonde-stubbled face. The brunette that was kicking France wore a black t-shirt that had white letters across the chest reading 'Self-Rescuing Princess.' For some reason, she also had a baseball bat clutched in one hand. She realized this, and then smacked France in the face with the bat instead. The poor French country was having the worst day of his century-long life. And that's saying a lot. After the brunette had cracked France over the head with her bat, the pile fell apart. A black-haired girl wearing a light blue jacket and black shorts clutched a katana in front of her as she stood. The other brunette wielded a hockey stick, which she held like a protective blanket. A girl with multi-colored hair brandished a lacrosse stick like a sword. And a red-haired girl held a shovel over her shoulder. At first, the countries just stared at the strange arrivals. The girls looked around in confusion. France whimpered, holding his face. Then the silence was broken by the girl with multi-colored hair.
"So…I'd guess we're not dead?" She said matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, probably not," the bat-wielding brunette commented. Then she noticed the countries. Her eyes went at least three times bigger than normal. She blinked once or twice, as if to make sure that she was seeing correctly.
"Guys…I think we're dreaming," she commented, staring directly at America. The small girl, wearing a yellow shoulder-less shirt, turned to the countries, and gasped. The nations realized that the tiny girl had a strip of blonde hair right in the center of her bangs. Soon, all the new girls had turned to face the countries. France, though still recovering from being whacked over the head by the bat, started to slowly crawl away. The black-haired girl noticed this, and stabbed her katana down in front of France's nose. He gulped, and stopped his retreat. He waved weakly at the stoic-faced teen.
"Who are you and vhat is your business here?" Germany stepped forward.
"My name is Mistress Faith of the Land of Not-Here. These are my companions—oof," the taller brunette started speaking, but was cut off when the girl with the multi-colored hair jabbed her in the gut.
"What? I was being formal," 'Mistress Faith' commented.
I know this is really short, but it's been forever and I just wanted to upload something. Sorry!
