The Christmas Without War (England Version - Responsibility)
anonymous
October 22 2009, 17:56:10 UTC
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England woke up, and immediately knew Something Was Wrong.
Magic practically hummed through the air. This was no little magic, either, just in his house, but the very air was tinged with it. Worldwide. This was a global spell, and England had absolutely no idea where it came from.
And, for some reason, he was finding it incredibly hard to care.
He stood up, stared down at his feet for a moment, and had to resist the incredibly strong urge to simply lie back down in bed. But no, he should be doing something...but what? Oh right, last night's work....was there work? He couldn't remember. Deciding to put an end to that mystery, he shuffled to his study.
And stared.
The paperwork permanently littering his desk was gone. The "In" box was empty of its usual sea of papers that refilled no matter how many times he emptied it, and the "Out" box had more papers in it then he had ever seen. There was no requests, no urgent demands, nothing. His desk was clean, everything was done, and it almost looked as if someone had dusted and cleaned.
Feeling suspicious, he cast his awareness as a Nation out, out, over his lands. He checked on his government first. Parliament was running smoothly, the Queen was having an exceptionally good day, and everything on the agenda was easy, simple things that he was not required for. Over all his lands, his people thrummed with contentment and peace. More goodwill permiated England than he could ever remember feeling.
Everything was done. Nothing was in danger. He didn't have a thing to do.
England woke up, and immediately knew Something Was Wrong.
Magic practically hummed through the air. This was no little magic, either, just in his house, but the very air was tinged with it. Worldwide. This was a global spell, and England had absolutely no idea where it came from.
And, for some reason, he was finding it incredibly hard to care.
He stood up, stared down at his feet for a moment, and had to resist the incredibly strong urge to simply lie back down in bed. But no, he should be doing something...but what? Oh right, last night's work....was there work? He couldn't remember. Deciding to put an end to that mystery, he shuffled to his study.
And stared.
The paperwork permanently littering his desk was gone. The "In" box was empty of its usual sea of papers that refilled no matter how many times he emptied it, and the "Out" box had more papers in it then he had ever seen. There was no requests, no urgent demands, nothing. His desk was clean, everything was done, and it almost looked as if someone had dusted and cleaned.
Feeling suspicious, he cast his awareness as a Nation out, out, over his lands. He checked on his government first. Parliament was running smoothly, the Queen was having an exceptionally good day, and everything on the agenda was easy, simple things that he was not required for. Over all his lands, his people thrummed with contentment and peace. More goodwill permiated England than he could ever remember feeling.
Everything was done. Nothing was in danger. He didn't have a thing to do.
England smiled.
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