"CUT!"

Prussia's lips were agape, mid-sentence, when Lithuania's cue departed his mouth. The aforementioned nation growled under his breath, irritated that he couldn't complete one of his lines without being interjected by someone offstage.

"What's the prob, Liet?" Poland inquired, tilting his head to the side. "Did one of us totally bomb our lines or something?"

"No…" the brunette replied. He paged through a few packets, scanning over their contents rapidly before selecting some from the pile. "I was searching our play online and I found a better script for us to use." Here, Lithuania passed each member a new set of lines, exchanging these new parts for the older scripts they had previously owned.

"Why didn't I get a new one?" Russia questioned, violet eyes brilliantly shining in a supposed innocent curiosity.

"Well, you're going to have the same exact part, so I felt no need to print out a newer version."

Russia appeared disheartened for a brief moment, but his face took on a brighter expression as Lithuania commenced his overview of the new script.

"Now, let me explain each of your parts. Prussia and Poland are still Pyramus and Thisbe, so no changes there. Latvia will play the wall that separates them."

"Um…" Latvia piped up, "I have a question. Just how am I going to be a wall?"

"Here," Lithuania came to his fellow Baltic's side, flipping through the script until he came to Latvia's first appearance. "You are going to stand in between Prussia and Poland while they are both onstage-" Lithuania took a few steps back until he stood at the center of the clearing they had been practicing in. "spread your arms-" here, Lithuania extended his arm span to full length. "-and make either a V-shape or a circle with your fingers to act as the hole through which the lovers will communicate,"

Finished with his demonstration, he returned to the group. "Estonia, you are now Moonshine, or the man in the moon."

Estonia idly nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "That is most interesting, but will there be any need for this if the audience can see the moon?"

Lithuania widened his eyes, indicating this problem had completely flown over their "director's" head. He pursed his lips, meditating the point, before replying carefully. "We might be having the play indoors….and even if that wasn't the case, I don't think the audience will be all too concerned about those kinds of details."

Estonia shrugged and returned his attention to the packet in his possession.

Lithuania, looking satisfied, clasped his hands together and announced. "Okay. Places everyone! Let's run through the first scene once. You can keep your scripts with you if you haven't got your lines down yet."

The temporary actors dispersed themselves amongst the field into their respective spots.

"ACTION!"


Sealand had been heading in the general direction of England's garden, when his ears caught multiple voices off amongst the glade of oak trees to the right of the picket fence the separate the woodland from the garden. Curiosity killing the cat, Sealand changed direction to investigate, weaving in between many deciduous and evergreen trees. A clearing soon spread out in front of the micro nation, an assembly of countries at its center. Squinting in the moonlight, he could just barely make out the silhouette of Poland and Prussia standing on opposite sides of …was that Latvia?- as if the aforementioned nation served as a barrier between them.

Sealand tiptoed along the rim of the clearing using the umbrage casted by the canopy of the foliage as cover. Eventually, he became close enough to overhear what exactly was the occurrence. In order to observe as discreetly as possible, Sealand retrogressed into the deeper shadows of the forest.

"Oh, my dear Thisbe!" Prussia's tone soared dramatically as he spoke. "Your breath is just like the sweet-smelling odious-"

"Odors." Lithuania corrected, his voice an abrupt hiss.

"-sweet-smelling odors of all the world's flowers combined. If I were-"he paused, eyes swiveling to where Sealand was concealed.

The seaport's heart leaped onto his tongue as Prussia excused himself from the rest of troupe and strode up to the edge of the clearing. Immediately, Sealand retreated, jogging fast enough to stay ahead without being detected.

"Who's there?" the Prussian called, his voice firm. Sealand slid behind a felled tree, praying the other wouldn't hear the rustle of leaves his footsteps created. Here, Sealand leafed through the book of animal spells France had provided him, scanning through the index with panicked eyes.

Among the mass of animal transformation spells, Sealand's eyes fastened on one that looked the easiest to recite: "Htiw eht rewop fo eht Tneicna Cigam detsev ni em, yam siht nam eb nevig eht daeh fo eyi yekond."

Faster than a three-year-old with five tons of sugar injected into their system, a mystical sphere of energy rocketed from Sealand's hand and collided right into Prussia's face, sending him straight to the leafy carpet.

After registering the soft thump of Prussia's fall, Sealand peeked out from behind his refuge, his mind drawing blanks as to the results of his frantic spell work.

As soon as his gaze caught wind of his creation, he wished he had remained hidden. The beast he had crafted was nothing more than a donkey's head riding on top of Prussia's shoulder in place of his naturally occurring head, but the mere oddity of the sight was enough to spark fear within the preteen and send him scampering away in the direction of England's garden, petrified at the grotesque creature his magic had produced.


If you had came up to Prussia earlier that day and informed him that he would be cursed with an ass's head by some anonymous sorcerer, accidently send his fellow actors skittering away, frightened out of their skins (minus Russia, who seemed unstirred by Prussia drastic change in appearance), and end up hobbling into a garden which most likely belonged to Mr. Prissy Bushybrows, he would've laughed right in your face.

No, he would've collapsed to the ground under weak knees and literally do what most typing on the Internet do figuratively with the initials "rotfl".

In short, he wouldn't have taken the warning seriously. Not by a long shot, no matter how much money you could bribe him with to believe you.

After it actually happened: Well, he probably would wave his hand dismissively at you, excusing his blatant stupidity with some tribute to his awesomeness and how that would enable him to deal with any problem life should dare shove in his face.

But, alas, no forewarning had occurred and the fact of Prussia's predicament remained immutable as of yet.

This is such a pain in the ass, he thought sourly, only registering his unintentional pun when he sat himself down on the ground. His eyes wandered to the broad leaves of the oak canopy, which were now adorned in a sickly gray color (apparently, donkeys are incapable of perceiving green).

In a rare moment, the Prussian was at lost with what to do. He obviously couldn't eradicate the problem without figuring out what occult force had been responsible for it. Thus, he had headed in the direction of England's place, figuring the country infamous for having discussions with invisible fairies would know the remedy to his issue. But even so, he was slightly averse to asking assistance from his fellow nation. He was the awesome Prussia, wasn't he? Something as simply trivial as a donkey's head should be a breeze for him to handle without some "gentleman" who talked to thin air giving him an unwanted hand. For all Prussia knew, England could've very well been the mastermind behind the troublesome transformation, in which case the likelihood of him lending a hand was remote.

Damnit all, he cursed, frustrated. In order to cool himself off, Prussia sung to himself "Mien Gott", a creation of his own.


England blinked the mist of sleep from his eyes, his brain feeling disoriented. His could hear the distant hum of a tune, but couldn't quite place where its origin lie. Finally, when his two emerald irises were viewing the world in clarity, he beheld a sight that nearly blew his cerebral clean out of the skull that encased it.

There, sitting placidly at the base of a neighboring tree, was the most gorgeous living creature England had ever laid his eyes upon. Its donkey-esque head had white fur that shone with an unearthly luster in the moonlight, as if each hair had been spun of silver. Its eyes were two chocolate truffles filled to bursting with incredible warmth. Its humanoid body had the smoothest, palest skin, each ridge and bump formed by its skeletal structure absolutely flawless. Its navy-blue uniform (which could only make its form more spectacular by the Englishman's standards) looked oddly familiar, but he shook the thought from his brain.

And the music falling from that lovely muzzle! England's heart soared with every note that he heard. His eyelids wilted under the weight of love and he crawled closer to the beautiful beast, wondering just how soft that silken hair would feel under his fingers.

The creature seemed to sense England, for it ceased its music, chocolate-tinted eyes widened in alarm.

The Brit could almost hear the sickening rip of his heart tearing at the mere sight of his love disgruntled. "Please, don't run, my dear. I would never harm you," he reassured, extended a hand to his newly-found center of the universe.

The donkey-man's shock turned swiftly to confusion. "E-England? What are you doing here?" the creature spoke. It took a multiple rapid blinks for England resurface from his brief spell of awe at that suave, sexy voice.

"Admiring you. I know this is bit…sudden, but I can't help but be dumbstruck at how utterly handsome you are." England replied dreamily.

The object of his desire seemed at the verge of bursting into a bout of laughter. "You sure you didn't drink too much, England? Because I'm sure as hell not pretty in any w-"

His sentence was cut short as a frying pan all but soared from an anonymous locale and struck the donkey-man upside the head. England gasped sharply as he observed his love crumple to the ground with horrified eyes.

Within microseconds, England had the kitchen utensil clutched in an iron grip, murderous eyes scanning the premise for the thing that had dared to harm his beloved.

"Reveal yourself!" he cried, voice dripping with infuriation. "You shall pay for doing such a violent act on my love!"

Suddenly, the Brit felt a small tug at the cuff of his pants, bringing him out of his rampage just long enough to notice the enormous weld on the side of his head and rush to the donkey's side, the frying pan plummeting to the lawn, completely forgotten.

As he set the injured head on his lap, England became slowly engrossed in running his digits through the velvet-like hairs. While he perpetuated his soothing rhythmic petting, he curtly ordered to the fairies clustered nearby. "Go fetch this poor donkey an ice pack." Arthur snapped, his gaze never breaking away from his beloved.

The fairies, sighting the ugly weld and detecting the sour tone in England's voice, fluttered away to retrieve the item.


France couldn't stop laughing.

His sides were aching tremendously, his lungs could barely perform the essential task of breathing correctly and yet he still continued his hysteric laughter.

"This is just…just…"he spoke hoarsely in between bouts of chuckles, "…perfect, Peter!" His gaze, peppered with tears of mirth, was still observing the sight of England cooing comforting words to a mutated Prussia. "And hitting him with that enchanted frying pan so that Prussia would think Arthur was Hungary was very clever."

Sealand could only beam in triumph at his impending success, taking France's perpetual giggles as a sign of approbation. He even found himself chuckling along with the European nation, finding France's laughter rather contagious.

But, sooner that Sealand would've wanted, the fifteenth century France gazed at Sealand expectantly. "Now, is there any way we can monitor our two Asian lovebirds? I want to make sure they are enjoying themselves, non?"

Sealand flinched, his stomach pulling complicated gymnastics within its confinements. The moment France discovers I didn't make China fall for Japan, I can say good-bye to my nation status. he thought in trepidation. Nevertheless, he flipped half-heartedly through his book of generic spells, praying the one France had requested wasn't present. To his chagrin, he found the incantation and muttered it dejectly. A sort of ephemeral window manifested in front of them, the image of China and Japan bickering displayed within the window's confines.

"Well, there's China, but why isn't he with the other Asian he was arguing with?" France inquired, blue eyes gazing at Sealand

Other Asian? Sealand grimaced as his active stomach preformed a perfect belly flop. Something wasn't matching up. "W-what do you mean?" he responded innocently enough, praying the worst news was still a far way off from now.

"The tall brunette nation with the curl coming out of his hair that I told you to make sure China fell for?"

A jolt of horror zapped through Sealand's nervous system. Uh-oh.


A disapproving gaze swept over China's countenance as he heavily sighed. "Look, I understand you are worried about Greece, but why must you insist I did something to him, aru?" he inquired, arms crossed.

"You are trying to stop our relationship." Japan stated simply, though his eyes were ice cold. "It seems only natural to assume you did something to him."

"Japan…. Did you consider the possibility that he just went off?" China suggested lightly. He found Japan's behavior odd, since he wouldn't normally be so concerned for another human being unless he were sure their life was in peril. "You are probably panicking over nothing."

"I am not panicked. I am merely worried because of the factors in this situation," he replied. Japan's voice seemed strained, as if he was attempting to conceal emotions, but no quite succeeding.

"It's true that I don't support you two, but I haven't touched your boyfriend," he explained. China felt irritation surge in his bloodstream but chased it away. "So, stop trying to accuse me of something I've never done, aru,"

The younger male wasn't completely convinced, but China's words had merit to them. In fact, Japan had been questioning his urge to worry about his fiancé's mysterious departure….But the footprints, he thought. The hints and clues were not matching up.

Disheartened at the lack of new information, Japan delved father into the forest to continue his search, leaving China observing him with a tired gaze. So much had occurred in the last 24 hours and his energy source was depleting fast, as if some leech had been feasting upon his energy with great rapture. As the oriental male flopped onto the forest floor, he casted a feeble gaze at what inky sky he could perceive in the hole of the leaf canopy above. For a moment, China's fatigued eyes seeked vainly for some answer to his trouble masked in the velvet expanse overhead, but he soon gave up, letting sleep engulf him.


Footnotes:

Section 1: Pretty much the same thing that happened in A Midsummer Night's Dream. I wasn't too sure why the parts changed in the original, but we cannot talk to Shakespeare.

Section 2: Stuff from Sealand's POV.

Section 3: Being turn into a donkey is one of the most notable things about Nick Bottom's character. On an unrelated note: I will be eternally happy if someone draws donkey!Prussia for me.

Section 4: The frying pan was completely my idea. Bottom's voice waking Titania up, however, was not.

Section 5: This is where Sealand comes to his senses and realizes what he did wrong.

Section 6: This is where the lovers start to get really wierded out because of Sealand's little error. Also, in the original, Hermia believed her lover had been murdered by Demetrius, but I doubt Japan would be that hysterical about Greece's odd disappearance and wouldn't accuse China of such things.

Translations and References:

"Htiw eht rewop… fo eyi yeknod." With the power of the Ancient Magic vested in me, may this man be given the head of a donkey.

Apparently, donkeys are incapable of perceiving green: They are technically colorblind, according to my research, but I can't be entirely sure this is true.

I apologize x10000000 that this is as late as it is, but I have a lot of writing to do and only so many hours in which to do it. In any case, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Thanks so much for reading

~The Rational Dove