Sorry for the delay, my Internet was being annoying -_-. Happy Halloween, everyone! :D
Enjoy the updates while they're fast, because it's going to be the end of half term soon.
There's a little bit of German and Romanian in this one, but it's pretty easy to figure out.
Bist du krank? = Are you ill?
I look at the alarm clock and try to judge how much slower it is - I mean, how much faster I am.
7:34:10; 7:34:11; 7:34:12...
I think that every second there is about three seconds from my view. Therefore, I've been doing nothing but walking around the house aimlessly and reading a book for the equivalent of six hours...? Wow.
I know, that's not the usual reaction to curses but it's not like I've never been cursed before. However, I've grown to like these eyebrows.
Three times the speed, huh...how much fun could I have with that?
I smirk and stand up from my bed. If I have to get to the world conference half an hour early, I should get a move on now. Luckily, it's over here this month.
I go into the bathroom and turn on the shower, seeing the water fall at a slow speed. I look at it as if entranced before remembering that even if time seems slower, it's still ticking away.
Getting ready at record speed, I decide to check on my friends. Maybe one of them got this curse as well?
However, as I open the door, they're all fine and still asleep.
I leave the house, locking the door behind me. I check my watch and notice that I have half an hour to get there in time to see Romania. Or, to me, an hour and a half.
Looking around, I take in the fact that there are people around now, and I can, as America would say, totally freak them out. I might as well make the most of this curse.
They all walk so slowly. I chuckle.
Then I break out into a run, for the fun of it. I watch as their heads sluggishly turn to acknowledge me.
My rare mischievous streak is really showing now as I imagine what I look like to them - do I pass like a blur? Probably.
I forgo getting on the bus, since it's just too slow for me now.
It feels like I own the world, just the freedom of running with everyone else being too slow to stop me; looking at me in amazement.
The adrenaline fuels me as I feel like I'm floating. I take many prolonged routes so I can enjoy being the fastest. All too soon, the conference hall is in sight, and it's almost 8:30.
I burst through the front door and then the double doors of the conference room, almost slamming into Romania before I stop myself. Weirdly, even after running non-stop for so long, I'm not even the slightest bit worn out.
He turns around and looks at me. And looks at me. For ages.
"Do you have to stare at me for that long?" I shout, making him flinch.
"So you didn't bother to cast the spell?" he asks, trying to speak quickly enough for me.
"This is the all-too-perfect way for me to get revenge on so many countries for so many things!" I explain slowly.
He sighs. "Enjoy your extra-long conference then," he replies, grinning.
I hadn't thought about that.
"Well, I did bring the spellbook with me, so I can sort it out anytime."
"Make sure you do get round to causing some mischief beforehand, because these meetings do get kinda boring after a while!"
"Oh I will. But won't the other nations think that something's up when I look like THIS?" I ask, gesturing to my hair and eyes.
"Oh yeah, I brought some stuff to fix that," he says, rummaging in his pockets.
Then, against my expectations of him having a spellbook or something to hand, he pulls out some spray-on blonde hair dye and green contact lenses.
I look at him, my facial expression being eloquent in itself as if to ask "seriously?" but I say that anyway.
"You said the spell didn't work," he explains, "so I brought non-magical solutions. Here."
He hands the objects to me and I notice that I'm starting to get used to the speed difference. I take them from his hands and we head over to the loos, him running and me walking, just so I can see in the mirror to disguise myself properly.
As I'm spraying the blonde hair dye on my hair, he points out that my ears will still be pointy.
"Nothing to worry about," I reassure him, "it's not like anyone's going to stare at them, they're not completely obvious."
Checking my hair from different angles, I decide that's over and done with and tell Romania to catch the bottle before throwing it over to him. It still feels weird to watch everything moving in slow motion, but I must say, it's quite cool.
I turn back to the mirror and pick up the contact lenses from the counter. I pop them in one by one, not expertly. However, I have worn coloured ones before after a dare and again for Halloween when I didn't have the energy to magic my eyes a different colour instead.
"That was quick," he comments, and I roll my eyes.
"What did you expect?" I retort, as we walk out again.
We then return to the conference hall and find our allocated seats, but mine's so far away from his...
"Hey, Anglia, first piece of mischief for the day - swap around some of the name tags!"
"Why don't you do it?"
"I don't know," he replies sarcastically (hey, sarcasm's MY thing!), "maybe because you can do it at three times the speed and finish before Germania gets here?"
I'll just ignore the unintended double entendre there.
"Okay, fine," I reply.
I look at the name tags. Whose great idea was it to put me between France and America? I wrinkle my nose in disgust and move mine next to Romania's. Then I move Germany's next to Romano's and Greece's next to Turkey's.
My plan today is to create chaos. A thrill courses through me - how much have I missed out on?
I continue rearranging seats: America next to Russia, with Cuba on the other side of the former and Belarus on the other side of the latter. Prussia - wait, why is he still here? Oh well. Between Germany and Austria he goes. Spain should go next to Romano to embarrass him and then Italy on the other side of Spain. Surely he was going to get on his brother's and Germany's nerves.
I hesitate at Liechtenstein's. She is nice, but...oh, whatever, she's going between France and Switzerland, who's next to Austria.
Then I notice that this entire line-up is right next to my place, so I move mine and Romania's name tags to the opposite side of the long, curved table. I mean, it's much easier to watch events unfold from the front and not the side.
"Did you move yours next to mine?" Romania asks. "I need to keep an eye on you in case you go insane or something - we don't know the full extent of this spell yet."
"Yes," I respond, jumbling up the rest of the name tags because I don't have every country's relationships memorised, do I?
I discard one written in scribbly handwriting labelled "Sealand". Nice try.
Just then, I hear footsteps coming down the hall.
"Quick!" I whisper to Romania, before dragging him to our (new) seats. He seems dazed - no wonder since I've just dragged him at super-speed.
"Oh, England, Romania, I see you're here early," says Germany. Of course, he's always early to these meetings.
"Hi, Germania!" Romania replies friendlily.
"Hallo," he grunts, finding his name tag and sitting down there.
Great, now I have to put up an act of moving and talking slowly.
"England, bist du krank? You look a bit pale."
I don't reply, considering how I'd probably sound really weird even if I slowed down my speech. Too high-pitched, still. Instead, I look at Romania for him to give an answer.
"Um, Anglia isn't feeling too well, you see, there's a small economic crisis going on where he lives," he explains.
"I see," he replies, satisfied by this explanation.
An awkward silence fills the room as Germany shuffles his papers.
I lay out all of my things too, making sure I slow down whenever Germany can see me.
I write a note to Romania.
"I don't think I'll really be able to keep this façade up during my speech. What mischief were you planning exactly so I can get it over and done with?"
I push it towards him and he reads it before giving me his reply.
"Putting a whoopee cushion on someone's seat? I dunno."
We continue this conversation on paper for a while.
"Yeah, and tell me where I'd get this whoopee cushion from."
"How about a drawing pin instead?"
"I don't tend to carry those around with me either."
"Pull someone's chair away as they're about to sit down?"
"That'd put me in the limelight..."
"If you're such a chicken, nothing's gonna happen."
"I'm sorry if I DON'T want to get into deep trouble."
"Alright, why not cause some trouble before the meeting?"
"Go on, but be quick, there are only fifteen minutes."
He spends a bit longer than usual writing before handing me a list of ideas. I smile wickedly as I read them. Childish stunts, yes, but funny nonetheless.
"Let's do this," I write, before we both stand up. Germany looks up to acknowledge us, next at the clock, and then back to the papers he was organising and scanning through.
I copy Romania's pace as we head out of the conference room. We then continue towards the front door and my first prank victim enters.
France the bloody garlicky frog-faced git.
