[Fanfic 100 Prompt][5 Prompts][Hetalia] "Whiskey and Jackalopes"
Title: "Whiskey and Jackalopes"
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Character: America (aka Alfred F. Jones)
Prompt: #77 What?
Word Count: 2035
Rating: PG, alcohol use
Summary: America and England get acquainted with an American myth.
Disclaimer: Hetalia does not belong to me.
“Bloody hell America! What is that thing?”
“Huh?”
Until that moment the trip had been quite normal, well as normal as it could be when England came to visit him. America had been planning the trip ever since England had asked to go somewhere other than the east coast on his annual visit. America had decided to take England on a road trip (he always loved the annoyed look on England’s face every time he suggested one, America knew the other nation secretly liked them) to the western states to visit a few national parks that he hadn’t traveled to in a while. So here they were stretching their legs at a rest stop and England was yelling at him. America looked in the direction England was pointing and did not see anything of concern. He looked back at the other nation incredulity stamped across his face.
------
The trip had been a pleasant enough time. England had always been a bit jealous of the elbow room America had in his country despite having a large population. He had been enjoying the view across the grassland of Wyoming, watching some Pronghorn Antelope in the distance when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Some kind of animal had wandered up next to America who had been looking out at the same scene. England was unconcerned at first, animals had always loved the younger nation so it was not unusual for them to approach him. It appeared to be nothing more than a jack rabbit, albeit an unusually large one. However, upon closer scrutiny it was not a normal rabbit at all, on top of its head sat two distinct horns. These horns were not unlike the horns of the antelope across the meadow.
A rabbit with horns.
That was enough to make anyone exclaim. In response to his question America had simply looked confused.
“Do you not see that?”
“See what?” The strange animal was now looking directly at England, it’s head tilted inquisitively.
“There by your foot!” he said, pointing once again at the beast that raised its ears in his direction in response. The creature proceeded to look up at America who was staring straight through it.
“I don’t see anything.”
“It’s right there, a rabbit with horns. Goodness! There are two of them now.” Indeed, another creature had sidled up next to the first. It had a similar appearance to the first, but the instead of horns this one wore antlers. Both animals now looked from him to America quizzically. America stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter.
“Ha, ha that’s a good one! You had me going there for a minute!” Now England just felt annoyed.
“And what may I ask, is so funny?”
“Dude, you must’ve spent way too much time at that postcard stand at the last gas station.”
“What?”
“Jackalopes don’t exist!”
“Jack-a-whats?”
“Jackalopes, mythological creature of North America. It’s a joke my western people like to play on tourists.” The two jackalopes lowered their ears in a melancholy way, the horned one raising a paw and placing it on America’s pant leg as though it was trying to get his attention.
“Is that so.”
“Yep, c’mon man let’s hit the road.” America turned and began walking the short distance back to the car. The two creatures looked even sadder, and began hopping away. They started to sing as they left, a song that England had never heard before but sounded distinctly like an old cowboy tune.
------
Something was odd about England. That fact was not, in and of itself, big news, but America felt that this trip was just downright weird. America was more than used to England’s interest in magic and was more than used to him seeing things that weren’t there. Ever since he was a child he had walked in on England playing with magic or speaking with his “magical friends”. America had even heard England pulled the same joke in his house once. England kept on insisting he was seeing tengu and various other spirits and ghosts on his visit. The first time it happened it had seriously creeped Japan out, but, like America, he had gotten used to it over time.
Now here England was sitting across from him in a diner in Wyoming and showing far too much interest in jackalopes.
“What’s with the sudden interest in American myths. You’ve never cared before.”
“The creatures have never stared me in the face before.”
“Right.”
“You don’t have to believe me.”
“I’ll be sure to get you a postcard and a hunting license dude.”
“What is it about your people and shooting everything that moves?”
“That’s not true, not to mention harsh!”
“I apologize.”
“No worries.” said America flashing a grin at the other nation as they lapsed back into silence. America sipped at his coffee noisily.
-----
Later that evening America had gone off to listen to some astronomy program put on by the nearby national park, but England had decided to say in because he was tired and had been staring at the stars for centuries. There probably wasn’t all that much more that he could learn. He also decided he would set up the campsite, America never set it up the way he preferred it. As they say, if you want something done you do it yourself.
Before retiring into the tent for the night he had wandered into the campground’s general store and had combed through the shop seeking items related to jackalopes. The oddness of the creatures had just piqued his curiosity. He couldn’t figure out why he had never heard of these things before because the shop seemed filled with curios depicting or relating to the creatures. There was jackalope milk (which was supposedly a miracle cure-all), stuffed heads, stuffed animals, and many more tourist curios. The diversity of the bizarre animal’s legends he was really getting curious about knowing the truth from the jackalopes themselves. Upon some reading of various postcards and other books in the shop that depicted jackalopes, he found that one way to lure the creatures in was whiskey.
Before heading back to camp he had stopped by a liquor store and purchased some whiskey just on the off chance it would work. That and he had a feeling he would need some hard liquor before the trip was over. Knowing America would not be back for several hours to ask he poured a bit of the whiskey in a bowl and left it by the campfire, before pouring a cup for himself. It was a pretty peaceful scene, the firelight flickering against the tree trunks. The campground had fallen more and more silent as the night wore on. It was finally at the point that England considered putting out the fire that they appeared, hooting and hollering and generally making a racket.
“Yeehaw!” They shouted upon seeing the whiskey. This was a group of three of them, two with antlers, one with horns, the horned one also had what looked like pheasant wings on its back. They fell upon the whiskey happily. When it was finished they began to sing a campfire song and then another and another. England could tell it was going to be a task getting their attention.
“Hey, you guys! Quiet down you’ll wake someone!” The three creatures stopped their chorus mid-word and turned to stare at him.
“You can see us?”
“Of course, I can see you.” They looked immediately fearful and looked as though they were about to run away. “Wait. I won’t hurt you. I just was curious about you.” One of them, the one with the wings, crept closer and sat at his feet looking up at him expectantly.
“Do you have more whiskey?” The other two sets of ears perked up waiting for his answer.
“Yes.” The animals cheered. As the animals drank more they began talking about themselves. Indeed, most of the stories about them were true, just not about each individual one. The group unanimously stated that they weren’t as aggressive as the legends say, only if you threatened them. They inquired after the fact that they sensed England was a lot like America. “Yes, I’m a nation like him.”
“Then how come you can see us, but can’t?”
“I don’t know. But maybe when he gets back we can try to make him see you.” It was an odd thing that America and Canada never seemed to be able to see any of the magic that existed on their continent. With all that land, magic was sure to be born in it.
-----
America returned around ten. He stumbled upon an interesting sight. England was sprawled in the camp chair a whiskey bottle in his hand, looking more or less asleep. Nearby there was bowl that smelled strongly of the aforementioned beverage that looked like it had been sloshed every which way.
“Drinking without me I see.” he said as he walked up, tipping up one of the legs of the chair causing England to tumble out of it sputtering half formed curses at him.
“America!”
“You didn’t even hear me come up, you’re lucky I wasn’t a bear, or a bloodthirsty jackalope.” he laughed.
“They are not that bloodthirsty.”
“Sure they aren’t. Anyway are you going to share that or what?” asked America, gesturing at the bottle of liquor. England offered and poured the younger nation a shot into the cup that was offered.
-----
He and the jackalopes had been asleep when America arrived. The trio of rabbits had been sprawled out around the dying campfire when he was rudely awakened by America tipping his chair. Before falling asleep he pondered about how to deal with the problem at hand, how to get America to see the magical creatures. When America asked for a shot of whiskey he knew it was his chance. Muttering a seeing spell under his breath he poured some into the tin cup being held out to him. America downed it in one gulp and held out the cup for another.
As England poured he said, “Wake up you lot! He’s here.” Stirring the sleeping jackalopes into hopping excitement.
-----
“Who are you...” America had started before seeing the leaping animals jumping up in the glow of the embers. That whiskey that England had bought must be stronger than he expected. He could do nothing but stare at the animals of myth and legend and repertoire of tourist pranks hopped joyfully in front of him.
“Dude, what did you spike that stuff with?” Making the animals look instantly mollified.
“Don’t say that, idiot, now you’ve hurt their feelings.”
“Hurt my hallucination’s feelings.”
“We’re not hallucinations, we’re real, we’ve always been real, you’ve heard us before.” said one of the antlered jackalopes. The creatures looked at each other and then began singing. America hummed along unconsciously, it was one of his favorite songs after all. He had sung it many times when participating in the old cattle drives. It couldn’t be any trick of England’s, there was no way he would know that tune. He held out a hand to one of the little guys. They excitedly hopped over and let him pat them on the head between the horns or antlers.
“No way.”
“See them now do you?”
“This is so cool!” After that they spent the rest of the night drinking and talking with the creatures of American legend.
-----
“Dude, that was a really crazy party last night.”
“Hmmm.”
“I’ll have to remember to not make fun of you too much for all your creatures anymore.”
“Good.”
“I’ll just have to make fun of the fact that mine beat the pants off yours.” A tin cup connected with an American skull from a bleary-eyed Englishman. Loud American laughter followed.
“Very funny, America.”
“C’mon it would be like that one show on Animal Planet where they hypothetically fight animals that would never really meet and...”
England pulled his sleeping bag over his head, he should have known trying to outdrink an animal that lived off whiskey was a bad idea.
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Character: America (aka Alfred F. Jones)
Prompt: #77 What?
Word Count: 2035
Rating: PG, alcohol use
Summary: America and England get acquainted with an American myth.
Disclaimer: Hetalia does not belong to me.
“Bloody hell America! What is that thing?”
“Huh?”
Until that moment the trip had been quite normal, well as normal as it could be when England came to visit him. America had been planning the trip ever since England had asked to go somewhere other than the east coast on his annual visit. America had decided to take England on a road trip (he always loved the annoyed look on England’s face every time he suggested one, America knew the other nation secretly liked them) to the western states to visit a few national parks that he hadn’t traveled to in a while. So here they were stretching their legs at a rest stop and England was yelling at him. America looked in the direction England was pointing and did not see anything of concern. He looked back at the other nation incredulity stamped across his face.
------
The trip had been a pleasant enough time. England had always been a bit jealous of the elbow room America had in his country despite having a large population. He had been enjoying the view across the grassland of Wyoming, watching some Pronghorn Antelope in the distance when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Some kind of animal had wandered up next to America who had been looking out at the same scene. England was unconcerned at first, animals had always loved the younger nation so it was not unusual for them to approach him. It appeared to be nothing more than a jack rabbit, albeit an unusually large one. However, upon closer scrutiny it was not a normal rabbit at all, on top of its head sat two distinct horns. These horns were not unlike the horns of the antelope across the meadow.
A rabbit with horns.
That was enough to make anyone exclaim. In response to his question America had simply looked confused.
“Do you not see that?”
“See what?” The strange animal was now looking directly at England, it’s head tilted inquisitively.
“There by your foot!” he said, pointing once again at the beast that raised its ears in his direction in response. The creature proceeded to look up at America who was staring straight through it.
“I don’t see anything.”
“It’s right there, a rabbit with horns. Goodness! There are two of them now.” Indeed, another creature had sidled up next to the first. It had a similar appearance to the first, but the instead of horns this one wore antlers. Both animals now looked from him to America quizzically. America stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter.
“Ha, ha that’s a good one! You had me going there for a minute!” Now England just felt annoyed.
“And what may I ask, is so funny?”
“Dude, you must’ve spent way too much time at that postcard stand at the last gas station.”
“What?”
“Jackalopes don’t exist!”
“Jack-a-whats?”
“Jackalopes, mythological creature of North America. It’s a joke my western people like to play on tourists.” The two jackalopes lowered their ears in a melancholy way, the horned one raising a paw and placing it on America’s pant leg as though it was trying to get his attention.
“Is that so.”
“Yep, c’mon man let’s hit the road.” America turned and began walking the short distance back to the car. The two creatures looked even sadder, and began hopping away. They started to sing as they left, a song that England had never heard before but sounded distinctly like an old cowboy tune.
------
Something was odd about England. That fact was not, in and of itself, big news, but America felt that this trip was just downright weird. America was more than used to England’s interest in magic and was more than used to him seeing things that weren’t there. Ever since he was a child he had walked in on England playing with magic or speaking with his “magical friends”. America had even heard England pulled the same joke in his house once. England kept on insisting he was seeing tengu and various other spirits and ghosts on his visit. The first time it happened it had seriously creeped Japan out, but, like America, he had gotten used to it over time.
Now here England was sitting across from him in a diner in Wyoming and showing far too much interest in jackalopes.
“What’s with the sudden interest in American myths. You’ve never cared before.”
“The creatures have never stared me in the face before.”
“Right.”
“You don’t have to believe me.”
“I’ll be sure to get you a postcard and a hunting license dude.”
“What is it about your people and shooting everything that moves?”
“That’s not true, not to mention harsh!”
“I apologize.”
“No worries.” said America flashing a grin at the other nation as they lapsed back into silence. America sipped at his coffee noisily.
-----
Later that evening America had gone off to listen to some astronomy program put on by the nearby national park, but England had decided to say in because he was tired and had been staring at the stars for centuries. There probably wasn’t all that much more that he could learn. He also decided he would set up the campsite, America never set it up the way he preferred it. As they say, if you want something done you do it yourself.
Before retiring into the tent for the night he had wandered into the campground’s general store and had combed through the shop seeking items related to jackalopes. The oddness of the creatures had just piqued his curiosity. He couldn’t figure out why he had never heard of these things before because the shop seemed filled with curios depicting or relating to the creatures. There was jackalope milk (which was supposedly a miracle cure-all), stuffed heads, stuffed animals, and many more tourist curios. The diversity of the bizarre animal’s legends he was really getting curious about knowing the truth from the jackalopes themselves. Upon some reading of various postcards and other books in the shop that depicted jackalopes, he found that one way to lure the creatures in was whiskey.
Before heading back to camp he had stopped by a liquor store and purchased some whiskey just on the off chance it would work. That and he had a feeling he would need some hard liquor before the trip was over. Knowing America would not be back for several hours to ask he poured a bit of the whiskey in a bowl and left it by the campfire, before pouring a cup for himself. It was a pretty peaceful scene, the firelight flickering against the tree trunks. The campground had fallen more and more silent as the night wore on. It was finally at the point that England considered putting out the fire that they appeared, hooting and hollering and generally making a racket.
“Yeehaw!” They shouted upon seeing the whiskey. This was a group of three of them, two with antlers, one with horns, the horned one also had what looked like pheasant wings on its back. They fell upon the whiskey happily. When it was finished they began to sing a campfire song and then another and another. England could tell it was going to be a task getting their attention.
“Hey, you guys! Quiet down you’ll wake someone!” The three creatures stopped their chorus mid-word and turned to stare at him.
“You can see us?”
“Of course, I can see you.” They looked immediately fearful and looked as though they were about to run away. “Wait. I won’t hurt you. I just was curious about you.” One of them, the one with the wings, crept closer and sat at his feet looking up at him expectantly.
“Do you have more whiskey?” The other two sets of ears perked up waiting for his answer.
“Yes.” The animals cheered. As the animals drank more they began talking about themselves. Indeed, most of the stories about them were true, just not about each individual one. The group unanimously stated that they weren’t as aggressive as the legends say, only if you threatened them. They inquired after the fact that they sensed England was a lot like America. “Yes, I’m a nation like him.”
“Then how come you can see us, but can’t?”
“I don’t know. But maybe when he gets back we can try to make him see you.” It was an odd thing that America and Canada never seemed to be able to see any of the magic that existed on their continent. With all that land, magic was sure to be born in it.
-----
America returned around ten. He stumbled upon an interesting sight. England was sprawled in the camp chair a whiskey bottle in his hand, looking more or less asleep. Nearby there was bowl that smelled strongly of the aforementioned beverage that looked like it had been sloshed every which way.
“Drinking without me I see.” he said as he walked up, tipping up one of the legs of the chair causing England to tumble out of it sputtering half formed curses at him.
“America!”
“You didn’t even hear me come up, you’re lucky I wasn’t a bear, or a bloodthirsty jackalope.” he laughed.
“They are not that bloodthirsty.”
“Sure they aren’t. Anyway are you going to share that or what?” asked America, gesturing at the bottle of liquor. England offered and poured the younger nation a shot into the cup that was offered.
-----
He and the jackalopes had been asleep when America arrived. The trio of rabbits had been sprawled out around the dying campfire when he was rudely awakened by America tipping his chair. Before falling asleep he pondered about how to deal with the problem at hand, how to get America to see the magical creatures. When America asked for a shot of whiskey he knew it was his chance. Muttering a seeing spell under his breath he poured some into the tin cup being held out to him. America downed it in one gulp and held out the cup for another.
As England poured he said, “Wake up you lot! He’s here.” Stirring the sleeping jackalopes into hopping excitement.
-----
“Who are you...” America had started before seeing the leaping animals jumping up in the glow of the embers. That whiskey that England had bought must be stronger than he expected. He could do nothing but stare at the animals of myth and legend and repertoire of tourist pranks hopped joyfully in front of him.
“Dude, what did you spike that stuff with?” Making the animals look instantly mollified.
“Don’t say that, idiot, now you’ve hurt their feelings.”
“Hurt my hallucination’s feelings.”
“We’re not hallucinations, we’re real, we’ve always been real, you’ve heard us before.” said one of the antlered jackalopes. The creatures looked at each other and then began singing. America hummed along unconsciously, it was one of his favorite songs after all. He had sung it many times when participating in the old cattle drives. It couldn’t be any trick of England’s, there was no way he would know that tune. He held out a hand to one of the little guys. They excitedly hopped over and let him pat them on the head between the horns or antlers.
“No way.”
“See them now do you?”
“This is so cool!” After that they spent the rest of the night drinking and talking with the creatures of American legend.
-----
“Dude, that was a really crazy party last night.”
“Hmmm.”
“I’ll have to remember to not make fun of you too much for all your creatures anymore.”
“Good.”
“I’ll just have to make fun of the fact that mine beat the pants off yours.” A tin cup connected with an American skull from a bleary-eyed Englishman. Loud American laughter followed.
“Very funny, America.”
“C’mon it would be like that one show on Animal Planet where they hypothetically fight animals that would never really meet and...”
England pulled his sleeping bag over his head, he should have known trying to outdrink an animal that lived off whiskey was a bad idea.