Told you so!
Enjoy- now you'll know what you're dealing with;)
–-
"...Fred! Alfred! Duddeeeee!"
Eyesight blurry, the American took a moment to regain consciousness. "Wha-?" Then, with a jolt, he sat up, wide-eyed. "Holy shit! Where am I? Arthur? Matt? Gil?"
There was a long-drawn sigh from next to him, and he turned around. He was in a forest; a wide, luscious green forest, covered in thick pine trees and tall oak, and lying next to a rocky pile in the only opening in sight. Apart from his strange location (aliens, he thought), there was the problem of his company: he saw no one. Reaching up to clean his glasses, he found they had disappeared. To his surprise, he also noticed he didn't need them: his eyesight was as clear as it had ever been. "Who's there?" The sigh again, more impatient. "Right here, dumbass. Look up." Alfred did so, only to have his jaw drop.
On the rocks sat a tiny little creature, the size of his thumb, dressed in a green, leafy dress, with sparkling wings and short blonde curls. "Hi." said the apparition. "What the hell?!" shouted Alfred.
"Are you a- you can't be- a-"
"The posh one said the world "faerie" was applicable. F-A-E-R-I-E. But I don't mind the proper spelling either." The fairy quipped. "You're a-hang on, the posh one?" the American exclaimed. "Yeah, you know, the one with the snotty accent and the disapproving green eyes of doom?" "Arthur!" said the blonde triumphantly. "Uh, you mean that was a GUY?" said the fairy, confused. "Course he's a guy!" Alfred snickered, making a mental note of telling his bushy-eyed ally about his apparently feminine appearance. He soon fell back to earth, with a: "But wait, you can't be a fairy!" With a groan, the fairy waved her hands, and after a moment Alfred found himself face to face with a very pretty girl. "Better now, Mr Al?" He gaped, taking in the baby-blue eyes, the golden, wavy bob, the sun-kissed skin and the freckles trailing her button nose, before nodding quickly. "Uh, yeah, one hundred percent!" "Sure." said the girl, standing back with her hands on her hips. "Now let's talk business."
"Name's Amelia, I'm a professional fairy, I was sent here by your so-called Arthur to help ya with your quest." Amelia dead-panned, rearranging the bright red star clip that held her hair in place. "A quest?" the American asked excitedly, before coughing and saying hurriedly: "I-I mean, uhm, what kind of stupid story is that? Magic isn't real! 'Sides, how do I know you know Arthur? You said he was a girl!" Amelia fixed him with a glare, before huffing. "Fine! I guess I'll just give you the exact words of the message, then!" With a wave of her hands, a well-known voice suddenly started speaking. "America, this is England. After your absolutely foolish manoeuvre earlier, it appears that quite a number of nations have been transported here, and changed...Your goal is to use the grimoire lying near you to, ahem "unlock a new chapter" as you would say in your video games. If you simply read the page currently available, it will show you who to find. I have also sent you an aide, for which I apologize, but I honestly did not have the time to create a better one AND send you the grimoire, so she'll have to suffice. Another thing: you must be aware that apart from yourself, all other nations are-"
The voice was cut off abruptly as Amelia gave a little cry and shrank back to her original size. Alfred rushed forwards. "M fine, just takes a lotta energy to stay so big...Srry." the fairy mumbled. "Dude, don't fall asleep!" Alfred burst out, anxiously watching the small form. "What else did Arthur say?" But it was too late. Eyes closed, the fairy stilled. Heart thudding, he reached out; only to find, to his relief, that she was still breathing. He stood up, holding her in his hands, then placed he carefully in his pocket. As he did so, he realized that his outfit had changed. His brain, after a second of thought, told him 1869. Museum of Natural History. Susan B Anthony and the suffragettes. Celluloid. Black Friday. Rupert's land and NW Territories given to Canada. Wait, no, don't think of Matthew's history, you twerp.With a wince he realized his accent, even mentally, had altered to allow those slight traces of England back into his speech. Shaking his head, he turned around, scanning the area. A glint of gold caught his eye, and he hastily headed over to the edge of the trees, where an old book sat glistening in the sun.
Opening it, he found an old-timey fairytale book telling the story of Cinderella. "Once upon a time, in a fair country far away, lived a young girl. This young girl was hard-working, kind, and beautiful. But her mother had died when she was still a little girl..." The story, it seemed, followed the original storyline, though it stopped abruptly near the end of the story, before Cinderella could run away from the ball. Alfred frowned. "Disney movie..." He muttered, repeating his earlier words. If what England had said were true, it could only mean that he was now in some kind of fairytale, and meant to "rescue" the princesses in the stories to get out. Looking around, he spotted the outside of the forest; a quaint village (definitely 1869)- and not too far away, a voice singing...
With a grin, the United States of America set off to rescue the princesses- after all, that was what heroes did!
–-
And now for the good parts ;)
Guess who'll be Cinderella?