The first thing Antarctica did when he got off the boat at Ushuaia in Argentina, was catch a taxi to the airport, quickly stuffing Weddell, whom he had found, into a cage that was used for carrying small dogs or cats. The Fur Seal had protested heavily, claiming that he hadn't been fed yet, and spewing out other random nonsense. Antarctica had simply stuffed a fish in there, along with a few toys to keep the seal occupied until he got to his destination, which according to his ticket was England.
"Why England?" He muttered as he went up a place in line, "Out of all the places Dan could think up, why England?"
After finally getting up in line, arguing with the receptionist about taking Fur Seals on board (that argument was ended when he remembered that the Fur Seal would be whining, and quickly stuffed the cage into her arms saying quickly to take him to the luggage, which spawned a new argument), who had also claimed that he couldn't take pick-axes and spiked boots with him (which was nonsense!), and getting through the airport scanners and finally getting onto the plane, Antarctica decided to just plug in his headphones and listen to music. And get a cup of hot chocolate or tea, or both, if his headache was anything to go on.
The flight, in short, was long. Nearly 24 hours on a plane with about 50 other people would do that to him. He had somehow survived off fish and highly caffeinated drinks, leading the woman next to him to give him weird looks, and shuffle her child a bit further away from him. Judging by her accent and pronunciation on certain words, she had been obviously American. He smiled kindly at her, mentally asking her to stop looking at him. She finally did when she drifted off to sleep, accidently leaving her tickets and itinerary on tray. He glanced over them, wondering why she travelled from America, to New Zealand, then to Papua New Guinea, then to a small island in Indonesia, then to Argentina, from which she was continuing on to England then Canada, then finally back home.
"Must be a human thing," he murmured, "I feel sorry for the child, and for her pocket. It's going to have a massive hole in it..."
And thus, the flight continued much like that, though now filled with snoring and the annoying air-attendants constantly going around and gossiping in their high-heels and skirts, mostly about some random problem that America has done that has affected some other near-by nation, who was the going to rely on another country, and then become that country's territory. It was a common occurrence now-a-days, one which meant that all of the smaller countries fell back on the larger ones, before then becoming that country's. Sad it was, leaving really only the large nations with strong economies.
'Like a domino effect. You stack 'em up just to see the cookie crumble into a messy powdery goodness!' That was what Sharma had said, right?
A bell sound rang, and the seatbelt light went on.
"Good afternoon, this is your captain speaking. We are about to land at London Airport, where the time is 5:30 am, so please go back to your seats and tighten your seatbelts for landing. Also turn off all electrical devices, including mobile phones, and game devices. Thank you for flying with us today, and I hope you've enjoyed the flight."
Antarctica looked at the women next to him, and silently concluded to let her continue sleeping, and leave the already-awake child to wake her mother up. He slowly got his seat into an upright position, and closed his eyes. Sleep, his body commanded it...
About five minutes later, Antarctica was awoken by a tug to his sleeve. He tilted his head to see the little girl, all large eyes and yellow dress. She cocked her to the side, and smiled. Antarctica raised an eyebrow.
"Yes?" He asked
"What's your name?" She asked, smiling widely, "I'm Eliza."
Antarctica frowned. He'd abandoned his human name when that happened, but a temporary one should suffice.
"Allen," He said. Yes, that should do.
The girl's smile went down a bit, "That's not your name, is it? You can't fool me. Mummy says so."
He frowned, "My name is my name, and thus you shouldn't know unless I want you to."
"Well, where are you from?" She asked. 'She's so full of questions...'
"A very cold place," She frowned at the answer, and opened her mouth to reply. She was interrupted by the aeroplane wheels touching down on the tarmac. The jolt knocked the girl's mother out of sleep, who quickly straightened herself out, and pulled her daughter into an upright position. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, a disapproving look of slight anger. He nodded at her. She glared.
And then, the plane rolled into the terminal. The mother looked left and right, quickly un-buckling her and her daughter. She slid out of her seat, and took away her overhead luggage. As she led Eliza out, the little girl turned back with a smile on her face.
"See you Allen!" She yelled, and ran in front of her mother, who gave another glare back.
Antarctica smiled slightly, "Bye!" 'What a nice child!'
He slid out then, taking his own overhead luggage and travel mug, and frowned at the numerous sweet wrappers all over the floor. Those poor cleaners, he felt sorry for them, but that would be easier than the large hamburger that he could see over the other side of the plane.
As he walked out, he could yet again see Eliza, happily chatting with an older man, who looked old enough to be her Grandfather.
'Maybe that was what the trip was about?' He shook his head. That was none of his concern.
After moving past the terminal to the small shops, he stopped off at one of the smaller cafes to fill up his travel mug before going to pick up his luggage at the carousel. It took longer than it should have, which annoyed him to no end as the ladies operating the machine talked to no end.
'First a flight from Argentina to England which takes over 24 hours, and just when I want a war cup of tea, this happens!'
"Excuse me, but could you hurry up? I need to get my luggage," he asked politely.
The girl blinked, and smiled, "Why certainly!" She magically finished the tea then, and handed it back to him with the wise advice of, "be careful-it's hot!" He sighed at her advice. He was a country, and a very cold one at that. The chances of him dying, or becoming injured, by a mere hot drink were like the chances of Australia getting a brain-freeze by eating a cold ice-cream or something, ridiculous, and nigh impossible, seeing that Australia had one the 'Country that ate the most Ice-Cream' award in 2007.
After (finally) getting away from the cafe, he followed the signs, which ended up confusing him, and making him have to ask directions, to where the carousel was supposed to be. He glared at the signs angrily, willing them to make sense, like they did for everyone else. 'Maybe I've been living in snow for too long?' Antarctica gave another sigh and followed a man he had seen on the plane, the one who had eaten the huge burger. He shivered ate the memory of what remained of it.
The Burger-Man, of which he had dubbed the man he was following, seemed to know which way he was going, and slightly surprised Antarctica by not going up, yet forward when the arrow commanded it. They still haven't perfected the art of 3D on signs yet then... So, thanks to The Burger-Man, he was able to get to the carousel.
His bags weren't that hard to find. Not everyone has a map of the Antarctica regions on their suitcase, and Weddell was easy to find too, especially since they seemed to have thought that the Fur Seal was a stuffed toy and not a real, living seal. The protests of Weddell only fell on Antarctica's ears though, yet were easily ignored, and easily silenced by the salmon he had swiped form the first class section of the plane, and sneaked through the airport security. So, with a content, yet still bitter Fur Seal, his suitcase and his still warm mug of tea, (which was probably rubbish), he was free to go.
Antarctica waited outside for roughly 20 minutes for this 'someone' who was going to pick him up. If he was right, it was going to be England, unless Arthur had something else to attend to, but then it would've been another country, like Ireland, even though the chances of Ireland doing a favour for England were rather low. But then, it could've been Wales or Scotland, or even another one of the countries that currently relied on England. It could've been France, but those odds were low enough to be counted as a near 0. But it could've also been...
A horn shook him out of his thoughts, and he saw a bored England in the car in front of him. The old nation sighed, and gestured to the back seat. Antarctica smiled in thanks, and opened the back door and slid in. So it seemed his first guess was correct after all...
"So, what have you been doing, Antarctica?" asked Arthur, "And also, if you don't mind my asking, what brings you here? Australia only said that, 'Maws-' sorry, 'Antarctica needs to be picked up'," Antarctica glared at Arthur for his slip-up.
"Australia told me to," He replied, "He didn't tell me who was picking me up, nor where I was going until I picked up the plane tickets."
England nodded understandingly, "He is hyped for the Olympic Games, and probably forgot to tell you. He has done the same to me too, on numerous occasions. He once forgot to tell me that America decided to host the bloody world conference in my country, until what, an hour before? Bloody git made me look like fool!" England seemed to seethe at the memory, murmuring something under his breath which sounded like curses in another language that sounded like Latin.
Rather determined to change the subject so that he wouldn't have to listen to more of the weird language, Antarctica asked, "Are your brothers home?"
England snapped out of it, and said, "No. They went on holiday to somewhere. I did not bother to check their ticket."
"Oh..." Antarctica decided that was rather unthoughtful, yet also decided it was best he kept his own thoughts and opinions to himself in front of Arthur.
England sighed, "And they didn't even say goodbye! It was just a note on my refrigerator that told me they were leaving!" The car pulled up into England's driveway, "And it seems we also beat the rush hour of London traffic...Now, come on! The sooner I get you inside, the sooner I can watch Top Gear!"
Antarctica glanced up at the huge old castle, and smiled at the passing thought of, 'Does this place even HAVE a stable connection?'.
Second chapter, yaayy...*unenthusiastic*
Well, the current words are at 1888. Is that kinda lucky?
Well, I don't own Hetalia, or anything else, except for Weddell and Antarctica. And Arctic, whom for some reason is dead...
Two questions, what do any of you know about John 'Black' Caesar, and two, if you are going to review this, can you please give constructive criticism? Please?
And also, thank you Wirewolf and Midoriiro Shiba for reviewing. Thank you. Very much.