I'm really sorry about the title, okay? I hate titles. I hope that the formatting will come out all right, since LJ is being wonky. Also, let me ask again; OP, are you opposed to Prumano as a side pairing, especially knowing whose body they ended up with? I think it'd be hilarious. Aside from that, there'll be a shitload of bodyswapped characters, some characters who haven't swapped (maybe they don't like beer), awkward situations, a lot of tripping over legs, failing to do one's hair, and France with boobs. I hope you'll like it.
Sweden had always been an early raiser. He liked to be up and about before everyone else and enjoy some minutes of silence. So, as usual, the day after America’s birthday, the nation woke up early. He stared at the ceiling of the hotel room for a while, feeling slightly disoriented. He blinked when he realized that he couldn’t hear Finland’s heavy snoring. They did share a room, didn’t they? Sweden, now very confused – Finland never, ever, woke up early – sat up and frowned in shock when he saw brown hair fall in front of his eyes. He looked down and frowned more. He did not recognize his pajamas. He also didn’t recognize the slender hands coming from the sleeves. Those were definitely not his hands, yet he could move the fingers.
The nation, somewhat clumsily, swung his now much shorter legs over the edge of the bed. After pushing the irritating long hair out of his eyes and realizing he could see clearly without glasses, the Swede staggered to the bathroom, where he looked in the mirror. His eyes widened at his reflection.
Lithuania. -- Lithuania had absolutely not been expecting to wake up next to Seborga, the friendly Italian micronation. He also had not been expecting said micronation to jump up in anger after opening his eyes and begin screaming at him. The screaming wasn’t for long, however, as Seborga fell silent after the sentence “WHERE IS LIECHTENSTEIN?”, which seemed like an odd thing for Seborga to say to begin with.
Lithuania answered, “I really don’t know.” Then he realized there was something wrong with his voice. He stared at Seborga for a minute, and the Italian stared back.
“You aren’t Sealand, are you?” the micronation asked. There was something wrong with his accent as well. It slanted, sounded less Italian and more German.
“I’m Lithuania,” answered Lithuania in a small voice, then added, “Switzerland?” He heard how ridiculous he sounded, British mixing with his Lithuanian accent – and perhaps some American left over from the 1920s. He almost laughed, but then started panicking. “How did this happen? Why am I Sealand? Why are you Seborga? Where is the rest?”
“Calm down.” Switzerland/Seborga shook his head and looked at his hands in wonder. “England must have messed up,” he decided, face turning grim. It was strange to see Seborga with such a serious expression. Lithuania actually did laugh this time, but more because he was nervous. Switzerland frowned at him and said, “We have to go find the other nations. Just put on a jacket and shoes, those should be around somewhere, I guess, and we’ll go.” -- Turkey thought he was still dreaming when he opened his eyes to see Iceland occupying the bed next to him. That is, until Iceland opened his eyes, blinked several times and then exclaimed in a distorted accent, “Hey Norway! What are you doing here?” He shot up immediately after. “I sound so weird!” the young nation shouted. He then looked at his hands in wonder and tugged his hair so he could see it. Turkey, for his part, lay absolutely still, watching blond hair fall in front of his eyes in shock. Norway? Had Iceland called him Norway?
“Norway!” Oh yes, he was doing it again. “Norway, I’ve turned into Iceland!” There was a distressed look in the young man’s eyes.
Turkey groaned. He sat up, feeling too light, and put his head in his hands. “Who are you, then?” he asked. His voice sounded far too sultry for his liking.
“Seborga!” Iceland answered.
“Seborga. Of course. Why not.” Turkey looked up at him. “Seborga, something went wrong, ‘cause I’m Turkey, not Norway. Someone messed up big time here.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. Stop doing that look, kid. Go put on your clothes and we’ll see who to blame for this.” He hoped it was Greece. --
Freaky Fifth of July [1a/?]
Aside from that, there'll be a shitload of bodyswapped characters, some characters who haven't swapped (maybe they don't like beer), awkward situations, a lot of tripping over legs, failing to do one's hair, and France with boobs. I hope you'll like it.
Sweden had always been an early raiser. He liked to be up and about before everyone else and enjoy some minutes of silence. So, as usual, the day after America’s birthday, the nation woke up early. He stared at the ceiling of the hotel room for a while, feeling slightly disoriented. He blinked when he realized that he couldn’t hear Finland’s heavy snoring. They did share a room, didn’t they? Sweden, now very confused – Finland never, ever, woke up early – sat up and frowned in shock when he saw brown hair fall in front of his eyes. He looked down and frowned more. He did not recognize his pajamas. He also didn’t recognize the slender hands coming from the sleeves. Those were definitely not his hands, yet he could move the fingers.
The nation, somewhat clumsily, swung his now much shorter legs over the edge of the bed. After pushing the irritating long hair out of his eyes and realizing he could see clearly without glasses, the Swede staggered to the bathroom, where he looked in the mirror. His eyes widened at his reflection.
Lithuania.
--
Lithuania had absolutely not been expecting to wake up next to Seborga, the friendly Italian micronation. He also had not been expecting said micronation to jump up in anger after opening his eyes and begin screaming at him. The screaming wasn’t for long, however, as Seborga fell silent after the sentence “WHERE IS LIECHTENSTEIN?”, which seemed like an odd thing for Seborga to say to begin with.
Lithuania answered, “I really don’t know.” Then he realized there was something wrong with his voice. He stared at Seborga for a minute, and the Italian stared back.
“You aren’t Sealand, are you?” the micronation asked. There was something wrong with his accent as well. It slanted, sounded less Italian and more German.
“I’m Lithuania,” answered Lithuania in a small voice, then added, “Switzerland?” He heard how ridiculous he sounded, British mixing with his Lithuanian accent – and perhaps some American left over from the 1920s. He almost laughed, but then started panicking. “How did this happen? Why am I Sealand? Why are you Seborga? Where is the rest?”
“Calm down.” Switzerland/Seborga shook his head and looked at his hands in wonder. “England must have messed up,” he decided, face turning grim. It was strange to see Seborga with such a serious expression. Lithuania actually did laugh this time, but more because he was nervous. Switzerland frowned at him and said, “We have to go find the other nations. Just put on a jacket and shoes, those should be around somewhere, I guess, and we’ll go.”
--
Turkey thought he was still dreaming when he opened his eyes to see Iceland occupying the bed next to him. That is, until Iceland opened his eyes, blinked several times and then exclaimed in a distorted accent, “Hey Norway! What are you doing here?” He shot up immediately after. “I sound so weird!” the young nation shouted. He then looked at his hands in wonder and tugged his hair so he could see it. Turkey, for his part, lay absolutely still, watching blond hair fall in front of his eyes in shock. Norway? Had Iceland called him Norway?
“Norway!” Oh yes, he was doing it again. “Norway, I’ve turned into Iceland!” There was a distressed look in the young man’s eyes.
Turkey groaned. He sat up, feeling too light, and put his head in his hands. “Who are you, then?” he asked. His voice sounded far too sultry for his liking.
“Seborga!” Iceland answered.
“Seborga. Of course. Why not.” Turkey looked up at him. “Seborga, something went wrong, ‘cause I’m Turkey, not Norway. Someone messed up big time here.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. Stop doing that look, kid. Go put on your clothes and we’ll see who to blame for this.” He hoped it was Greece.
--