She was fed up with her brother's refusal to marriage. He was going to marry her if it was the last thing he ever did.
Belarus once overheard her brother mention that England was adept at the magical arts. She figured that if she paid the English nation a visit, he would help her.
The meeting didn't go as expected. She entered his house the same way she would enter her elder brother's- through the open window of the room he was in. Looking back, it probably wasn't the best way to enter a house.
It took much coaxing, threatening, and even pleading on her part to get England to perform the spell.
She stood in the middle of a pentagram on the floor as England chanted out magical words. Anticipation flowed in her veins as the floor glowed. There was a great flash of light, temporarily blinding her.
Belarus awoke to something poking into her side. Her blonde hair was in the way of her field of vision, and she pushed it out of the way, turning her body vertically. Her purple eyes met the sight of the barrel of a flintlock rifle. It was a type of gun she hadn't seen in years, not since before the Revolution.
The man pointing the gun at her wore a white baseball cap, reading "Marines" in English letters. He wore a white uniform with a blue ascot and blue boots. He squatted at her side.
"Ma'am, please state your name and business at this base. All unauthorized personnel are to be dealt with immediately due to the imminent presence of the St—"
Belarus cut him off, "Where is brother? What have you done to him?" She produced a knife from one of the holsters hidden in her dress skirts and held it out to his neck.
It took the man a few seconds to realize that she was hostile, and he looked down the scope of his rifle at her, "Ma'am, if you don't lower your weapon, I will be forced to shoot."
Belarus ignored him and pushed the knife farther into his throat, drawing blood and severing his head. He was uncooperative, and would not tell her about big brother. He deserved his fate.
She pushed herself off the ground, and wiped the blood from the knife off onto her dress, before taking in her surroundings. She was standing in the middle of a steel-lined hallway. One end contained more light, so she headed briskly towards that end after sheathing her knife, taking care not the step in the man's blood. She didn't want to bloody her shoes.
When she reached the end of the hallway she found that not only was it a dead end, but a dead end with a window. She treated the window the same way as she treated all other windows- as doors.
Using her top-notch gymnastics skills that she had garnered from all the years of chasing her brother, and before that in the various wars she had fought for him. She took a running start and started into a front handspring, sending her flying feet-first into the window.
In retrospect, that may not have been that great of an idea. The window opened right onto a ledge and it was only her excellent reflexes that kept her from plummeting into the sea. She grabbed on to the ledge and pulled herself back up.
From that ledge, she got a nice view of her surroundings. She appeared to be on a base of some kind. There was an ocean below her and she could see on the horizon what looked like a ship.
Old-styled cannons sat on the ledges around her, almost as if she had fallen into one of America's Pirates of the Caribbean films. She had seen Lithuania watching part of it once, but it bored her and she left the room.
She removed two knifes, and one at a time placed them into the wall behind the broken remains of the window. Then, using the top of the window as a foothold, she pulled herself slowly up the cliff.
Eventually, Belarus reached the top of the cliff. By that time the knives she used to scale the cliff had been destroyed, leaving her down two knives. It wasn't the worst climb she'd ever done, at least not compared to the time she had scaled that warhead to help brother paint anti-capitalist phrases all over it. She would do anything for Brother.
She sat down on the side of the ledge. That ship on the horizon had gotten closer, and she could barely make out what looked like a comically drawn skull-and-crossbones wearing a straw hat. She paid it no heed, and removed the three remaining knives from their thigh holsters. Three would have to suffice she thought, until I can find more.
There was rustling behind her, and she reacted a tad late. The perpetrator had already moved around and removed the knives from her lap. She felt the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of her head. There was more movement behind her and she counted twelve men. Each one had a rifle, all of which were set to fire at any minute.
There was a man's voice, "Put your hands up!" She did as she was told. "Turn around!" She stood up. Belarus was outnumbered, disarmed, in a strange place, and didn't even have Liet -the most unwanted of the unwanted- to back her up.
Turning, she found that more people had arrived since the initial twelve; she counted at least seven more. Two men with dark skin rushed forward and clamped a heavy pair of black handcuffs onto her arms.
Belarus scanned through the crowds, looking for the man who took her knives. She found him, a scrawny but limber-looking blond youth who looked similar to a frightened Latvia. Letting a small smirk grow on her face, she narrowed her eyes at him and shot him a glare that used to make Russia himself cringe.
Unfortunately, she was unceremoniously shoved away, so she did not get to see the boy's reaction.
England frantically searched every corner and crevice of his house, looking for the Belorussian woman who had disappeared in a flash of light. If Russia found out that he had poofed away Belarus…well, Russia might not be too upset. If he did get upset…
In a small moment of inspiration, he rushed over to his spell book, reading the page it was open to. "Bloody hell…"
In his fear of being around the very nation that scared Russia, he had accidently chanted the wrong spell; the love spell was on the same page as the multi-dimension spell. "I wonder where I've sent her…" England wondered aloud, not noticing the open volume of One Piece lying on the floor.
Well, First of all, I don't own Hetalia, or One Piece. If I did, well, Belarus would appear a LOT more in Hetalia, and Frobin would be canon in One Piece.
Yeah, this is my first crossover fic EVER. So I'm sorry if it's pathetic, I'm best at writing small vignettes.
I don't know WHERE exactly, this idea came from, because I find it strange and egotistical, since I cosplay as both Belarus and Luffy.
That's all I care to say right now~
Reviewers get cookies~