THE DISCOVERY
A fundamentally lonesome person, Russia believed he could survive the Academy all on his own but his assumptions were quickly torn down as the Awakening sessions began. With the discoveries of latent gifts and the arrival of a certain...
The voice jolted the country out of his trance and he quickly snuffed out the flame underfoot.
"Nobody," he replied just as New Zealand entered the clearing. He muttered something about insanity and placed the small kiwi he held onto the forest floor.
"Well mother needs you for final adjustments for your stuff tonight . You should get back to the house before she gets mad."
New Zealand's weary gaze followed his brother until he left. The smoldering patch of grass was the only sign that America had ever been there.
New Zealand frowned, "He's relapsing again. It's around that time for him to go all pyromaniac on us then, better be careful."
The rest of the day went by rather uneventfully; at least for the birthday boy. Servants ran around with plates and the kitchen was overflowing with people prepping the buffet. Others were decorating, cleaning and polishing everything in sight, transforming the residence into an exquisite party paradise. Of course, the country offered his assistance only to be immediately ushered out.
"It's a surprise, so NO PEEKING!!!"
That's how America found himself lying on his bed, staring at the sky through his glass-domed ceiling, listening to the clock ticking away the seconds that remained before the celebration began...
(America POV)
"SO MANY BUTTONS!!!" I screeched in frustration as I fumbled with the tiny knobs that simply refused to go where they were supposed to. Luckily I had good ol' Canada to help me.
My apparel was simple. A white undershirt with a silver vest and a white tailcoat embellished with gold and blue over it. A silk kerchief fixed with a cyan diamond clasp wrapped around my neck and a waist-length cloak draped over one shoulder was held in place by gold chains and clasps. Despite my mother's objections; I wore my usual combat boots over my white trousers and I also kept the sunglasses of course. Gloves on, hair gelled, I was ready.
The Party began at 7:00 pm sharp. Guests poured in through the entrance, all dressed in formal outfits from all kinds of cultures. I stood at the top of the stairs, admiring the amazing job the decor squad had done and watching the ever growing crowd. Once most of the guests had arrived, my father stepped forward, dressed even fancier than usual. He gave a heartwarming speech, the orchestra began to play, and the party had officially begun. It was tradition for me to greet every guest before they proceeded into the grand ballroom so I made my way down. The night was young and I was pleased with how many people had come.
Small murmurs and whispers began to drift from the back and I turned to look.
Standing in the doorway were two gorgeous countries, Belarus and Ukraine who were wearing the most stunning dresses that I immediately recognized as my mother's brilliant craft. I felt Canada tense up and turn into jello at the same time. What a dork he was, I thought as I gave him an encouraging nudge. He did not move so I led him forward myself. They met us in the middle of the room.
"Hey- hey-hey Belarus. Ukra- raine. Lovely look you tonight- I MEAN YOU LOOK LOVELY TONIGHT- I MEAN-" said my bumbling brother.
Belarus rolled her eyes and laughed, "Why thank you Canada. Awesome look you too."
We both laughed as the two started to glow bright red.
"Sorry we came a bit late," Ukraine swiftly changed topics, "Our helpless case over there didn't know the first thing about wearing a tux."
I suddenly became aware how silent and tense the room became. Only one person I knew could make that happen so quickly and there he was, just as I had expected. What I hadn't expected was his appearance...
(The night before...)
Mother? What are you working on at an hour this late? America asked. France looked up from her work and smiled. It was nearly three in the morning yet she didn't look tired at all. In fact, she looked ecstatic.
"I received a request from a charming young garçon. He is about your age too. Quite talented at drawing, very polite. Look." France nudged a piece of paper towards America.
"You're right mother, this is really good," America marveled.
"He gave quite a donation to me, so I want to do something special for him."
America peered over his mother's shoulders and saw the masterpiece of her masterpieces...
Now he knew who it was for.
AUTHOR'S NOTES AND EXTRA: hoyyyyyyyy. I'm actually kinda on time this week. :) Here's the small weird ref I drew for America's outfit. I love drawing formal attire, idk why.
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Also Jesus Christ, cut Russia some slack guys, he doesn't do formal shopping and he is a country after all. And irrational things are rational to that precious little dimwit.
