Lucky, Unlucky 4

Arthur felt something cold and heavy pressing into his entire body as he lied down. A voice was trying to stir him from his sleep.

"England… England… England!..."

The blonde finally opened his eyes to see a similar looking blonde and an auburn haired man leaning over him. England recognised the two as his older brothers, Wales and Ireland, but something was different with them.

Wales spoke; his breath had a pungent odour to it, similar to a skunk but sweeter, spicier and much nicer. It smelt very familiar as well.

"Thank god, yer awake… The Unseelie queen seems to haff done something, like a spell or something…" The blonde sounded very vague, compared to his normal self.

England suddenly noticed that the Welsh man's hairs suddenly came down to his shoulders in light brown curls and was messier than normal.

He turned to Ireland, trying to confirm that there was something wrong with Wales with his other brother.

However, he quickly realised there was something wrong with the Irish man as well. The auburn seemed much more ordered and less angry. Plus his rifle now gleamed like real metal rather than the plastic knock-off that it really was. England guessed that it was his angle of sight playing tricks on his mind, as he was still lying down.

"Dee not worry, Sir!... I mean England…" Ireland barked out with authority before trailing off uneasily.

Now England was very confused.

"Why art thou acting so strange?"

There was a pause before the other two suddenly burst into laughter.

The blonde didn't know why he had spoken so strangely. He had only expected Ireland to laugh as well, Wales was normally so calm.

"Why art thy speaking thith way?" He demanded angrily and the other two exploded into more peals of laughter.

"Stop thou laughter, knaves!" He stormed, trying to go back to speaking in his normal modern English, rather than the English accent from hundreds of years ago.

Wales calmed down first, looking a little dizzy and hazy. "Sorry, England… It's hard concentrating when yer high…" England abruptly remembered what the scent on Wale's breath was. It was marijuana!

"Thou art high!"

"Aye. It's tha fairy spell… I havenae smoked any… honest…" He fumbled around slightly.

"A spell?" England's mind suddenly remembered Maeve and her spell on the entire party.

"Aye. It has made all tha costumes real?"

"Real?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Ireland saluted before scowling and retracting his hand.

Wales closed his eyes as if he was dozing off. He still mumbled though, showing that he was conscious for now. "Everyone in costume is now what they were dressed us… I'm a real hippy. That's why I'm a tad high…" His blue-green eyes opened again, his pupils were undiluted, bloated from the drug. "And Ireland is a real soldier…"

Ireland saluted at being mentioned. He also added in. "And yer a real knight in real metal armour!"

"Try sitting up now. Careful, it'll be heavy…"

England struggled to sit up, unused to the sudden heavy weight and difficulty to move.

Once he was up, he could see the state of the party. Everyone in the room, apart from the three brothers, was asleep. However, they were not their normal selves. Monsters, strange figures, historical races, surreal weapons and animals were in the place of countries.

"Ireland had woken up first…"

"Then I woke Wales, according to procedure."

"And then we woke you."

England blinked in shock, trying to comprehend this 'unique' and potentially very hazardous situation, before remembering that Scotland was there with the queen before this as well.

"Where art Scotland?"

Ireland snickered again at England's speech pattern, but Wales seemed to have more control over his actions this time.

"Still asleep beside ye."

England nodded; Scotland was standing beside him when the incident happened so it would make sense that they fell asleep beside each other. He turned to face where his brother was before the spell. However, instead of a sleeping red haired man, there was a young black cat, curled up and asleep.

England gaped at it in shock.

"Scotland is thy tiny morel cat."

"Aye."

"We didnae want ta wake him up yet until we ken whit to say to him…"

"We hafta feeling that he may not take this very weel."

"We shalt have to wake Scotland eventually." The English man reasoned.

"You dee it… I'm not going to be suckered into the government's system. I won't let 'the Man' control meh!…" The blonde's words suddenly stumbled out in a muddled rush before he blinked in confusion.

"That made nae sense, Wales."

"I ken… I dinnae know what came over me… Sorry – I dinnae know if that's from me high or not…"

"It's okay, sir. I ken that pot's a bitch when yer trying tae concentrate." The Irish soldier turned back to England. "So yer gonnae wake up, Alba?"

"Yes. I shalt take on thy quest."

"Pfft~"

"Halt your laughter! T'is not my fault!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Ireland saluted at the command, after stopping to laugh. He scowled angrily at how his body had acted by itself; like he was a real soldier taking real orders from a commander.

"Right then old chaps. We shalt wake thy slumbering morel cat."

About 5 minutes later….

The three man sat around the sleeping black cat; tense and nervous at the task ahead of them.

They knew they said that they would wake up Scotland, but in reality this was a highly avoided event. Usually it wasn't needed either; Scotland was such a light sleeper that someone moving around in another part of a house could wake him.

However this was a charmed sleep, they either had to wake him or wait for him to stop sleeping and no one had any idea how long that would be.

"Someone wake him… Me legs are getting stiff…"

"Military units are nae trained for these sort of procedures. I am nae authorised ta preform this operation." Ireland mumbled, looking away as he gave a weak excuse for not waking the cat himself.

Wales scowled and started blurted out loudly. "You and yer rules! This is the 'Man's' fault!"

"Who art this 'Man'?"

"I dinnae ken… I'm angry at him though!"

"Verily, thou is high…" England sighed and turned to Ireland. "And thou sound like thou is trying to avoid waking thy brother."

Ireland glared at him in reply, unable to deny it.

"Zounds! Why art I borne with such cowardly knaves as thine brothers? Scotland tis just a cat now! I shalt wake him then, ye roguish whoresons!" England snapped in annoyance.

"Did he just meh a fucking whore?"

"Ignore it Ireland… It's just a status insult from the knight's era. Roughly translated - he might just be calling you a yob or a git… or maybe a whore."

"That's nae any better!"

England ignored the two, pausing over the black cat. He lowered the front of his helmet down, earning an angry mutter of 'Whose tha damn coward now?' from Ireland.

"Peace, be quiet, Ireland!"

He reached his hand for the cat, noticing for the first time the metal gloves. It won't be comfortable for Scotland to be woken up by them but they would at least protect the blonde from any scratches.

He rested his hand on the small, furry shoulder and shook it.

(A/N - I wonder how many of you saw this coming? Has anyone guessed the vocaloid song yet? To be honest - there are not many clues at the moment. The song becomes more involved later on in the story though. The plot will soon become quite like the song but first I'm setting up the characters and story back ground.

I love England's accent here! Fuck yeah for old English!

Wow - here's some translations. I haven't done this in a while.

Art - are

Thou - you/ your

Thy - I, the

Shalt - have

Halt - stop

T'is - this is

Verily - Truly

Thith - this

Knaves - lower class, servant, it insults the class of someone basically

Morel - black

Zounds - bloody hell

Roguish - class insult

Whoresons - it insults someone class again (like rogue and knave)

Thine - my

Borne - born

I am also trying to insult as many stereotypes as possible starting with Hippies, knights and soldiers.

Scotland hates to be waken. Do not waken him. He gets so pissed off. It is a dangerous sport to wake hime up.

REVIEW PLEASE!)