somewhere out there, you will find the words i meant to say

Note: What was supposed to be a short display of the differences between England and 2p England’s attitudes towards magic turned into a disjointed drabble that contains a small part regarding England’s thoughts on magic alongside a semi-character analysis for 2p England that unexpectedly dipped into angstier spirits than I had planned it to.

Apologies for the lack of structure (and the bad formatting, as I’m posting on mobile). I’d revise this if I had the time, but alas, I do not.

I have plans on possibly reuploading this soon - the general idea will be the same, but with a different structure and better flow.

--------

All throughout the centuries, one thing has always remained constant. Even before they nation personifications were born into the world, created through the strength of bonds between humans and bound to the land in which those humans resided in, magic has always been in existence. It can be found everywhere in this world - perhaps even others, though not one soul, mortal or otherwise, knows whether there are any - and it is the very essence of all living beings.

Arthur finds it fascinating. He himself is older than every human he’s ever encountered, and none of them know - or are to ever know - about it. In this modern era, the knowledge of their existence is a treasured secret that only a select few have the privilege to hold. Other than fellow personifications, there are perhaps a couple of dozen or so others who know what he is. And so magic, with its everlasting nature, enduring since the beginning of history, older than any personification that still walks upon this world - it takes Arthur’s breath away, to think of everything it has seen, everything it has touched.

Of everything it can and has done.

--------

There is no question that Oliver Kirkland is an odd man. To his neighbours, at least, he’s a spacehead at best and a nutter at worst. He also seems to have a tendency to set part of his house on fire every once in a while, and show little to no amount of worry about it. Still, Oliver’s neighbours think that, for the most part, he’s not all that bad. He’s always unerringly polite during the few occasions that his neighbours manage to catch a few minutes with him to exchange words, and he often gives them exquisite shepherd’s pie and various other foodstuffs during weekends and the hols.

None of them suspect that anything is amiss with Oliver, aside from how he seems quite disconnected from the rest of the world during the times they catch him unawares, staring into the nothingness with a blank look on his face, and they simply discount it as nothing but one of his quirks. And to Oliver, everything is just the way it should be. He has a decent relationship with his neighbours - is in acceptable standing with them, at least - and he… well, he goes on as is expected of one of his kind. He fulfills his duties to a satisfactory degree, does enough to appease whoever his boss is at the moment, and fills whatever spare time he has with cooking - whether for himself, his neighbours, or less frequently, his brothers. 

Oliver supposes that he lives a rather secluded lifestyle, but it’s the way he enjoys his days so he isn’t particularly inclined towards seeking to change it. There are also the rare occasion - major deviations from his usual routine - wherein Oliver is asked by one of his brothers to help them with something. More often than not, it involves magic in one way or another. Oliver dislikes doing anything that involves magic, and all his brothers are keenly aware of it, yet time and time again, they never cease to conveniently forget mentioning that whatever it is they need his assistance with requires involvement in such. He knows that he can always simply not help them, but he’s far too weak to resist others whenever he knows he’s needed. Wanted. 

And Oliver admits to himself that sometimes, sometimes, he hopes that maybe his brothers will at least make mention if they’ll be needing him to do something related to magic. Because they’re aware that he dislikes doing so, and that they care enough to let him know.

Sustaining that hope is an exercise in futility, however, he is much aware. Oliver’s brothers are far too invested in the study of magic to truly understand why he himself is not. Anyone else might think that perhaps their insistence on involving him in matters relating to magic must be their attempt to make him grow fonder of it, but Oliver knows better than that. His brothers do not care enough for it.

And as much as his brothers do not care about him, Oliver cares not for magic. He believes that it is nothing but a tool to be used whenever one so desires. All the years he’s lived has allowed him to learn how lethal it is, especially when in the wrong hands, and it’s done nothing but to reinforce his distaste of everything even remotely magical in nature. He has used it to hurt, to maim, and to kill - whether under his own volition or under the orders of his king. And so there is nothing in the world that will convince him to further study the magical arts more than he already has.

Such power, Oliver believes, is nothing to be celebrated nor revered. It is to be feared.

--------

Note: What was supposed to be a short display of the differences between England and 2p England’s attitudes towards magic turned into a disjointed drabble that contains a small part regarding England’s thoughts on magic alongside a semi-character analysis for 2p England that unexpectedly dipped into angstier spirits than I had planned it to.

Apologies for the lack of structure (and the bad formatting, as I’m posting on mobile). I’d revise this if I had the time, but alas, I do not.

I have plans on possibly reuploading this soon - the general idea will be the same, but with a different structure and better flow.

--------

All throughout the centuries, one thing has always remained constant. Even before they nation personifications were born into the world, created through the strength of bonds between humans and bound to the land in which those humans resided in, magic has always been in existence. It can be found everywhere in this world - perhaps even others, though not one soul, mortal or otherwise, knows whether there are any - and it is the very essence of all living beings.

Arthur finds it fascinating. He himself is older than every human he’s ever encountered, and none of them know - or are to ever know - about it. In this modern era, the knowledge of their existence is a treasured secret that only a select few have the privilege to hold. Other than fellow personifications, there are perhaps a couple of dozen or so others who know what he is. And so magic, with its everlasting nature, enduring since the beginning of history, older than any personification that still walks upon this world - it takes Arthur’s breath away, to think of everything it has seen, everything it has touched.

Of everything it can and has done.

--------

There is no question that Oliver Kirkland is an odd man. To his neighbours, at least, he’s a spacehead at best and a nutter at worst. He also seems to have a tendency to set part of his house on fire every once in a while, and show little to no amount of worry about it. Still, Oliver’s neighbours think that, for the most part, he’s not all that bad. He’s always unerringly polite during the few occasions that his neighbours manage to catch a few minutes with him to exchange words, and he often gives them exquisite shepherd’s pie and various other foodstuffs during weekends and the hols.

None of them suspect that anything is amiss with Oliver, aside from how he seems quite disconnected from the rest of the world during the times they catch him unawares, staring into the nothingness with a blank look on his face, and they simply discount it as nothing but one of his quirks. And to Oliver, everything is just the way it should be. He has a decent relationship with his neighbours - is in acceptable standing with them, at least - and he… well, he goes on as is expected of one of his kind. He fulfills his duties to a satisfactory degree, does enough to appease whoever his boss is at the moment, and fills whatever spare time he has with cooking - whether for himself, his neighbours, or less frequently, his brothers. 

Oliver supposes that he lives a rather secluded lifestyle, but it’s the way he enjoys his days so he isn’t particularly inclined towards seeking to change it. There are also the rare occasion - major deviations from his usual routine - wherein Oliver is asked by one of his brothers to help them with something. More often than not, it involves magic in one way or another. Oliver dislikes doing anything that involves magic, and all his brothers are keenly aware of it, yet time and time again, they never cease to conveniently forget mentioning that whatever it is they need his assistance with requires involvement in such. He knows that he can always simply not help them, but he’s far too weak to resist others whenever he knows he’s needed. Wanted. 

And Oliver admits to himself that sometimes, sometimes, he hopes that maybe his brothers will at least make mention if they’ll be needing him to do something related to magic. Because they’re aware that he dislikes doing so, and that they care enough to let him know.

Sustaining that hope is an exercise in futility, however, he is much aware. Oliver’s brothers are far too invested in the study of magic to truly understand why he himself is not. Anyone else might think that perhaps their insistence on involving him in matters relating to magic must be their attempt to make him grow fonder of it, but Oliver knows better than that. His brothers do not care enough for it.

And as much as his brothers do not care about him, Oliver cares not for magic. He believes that it is nothing but a tool to be used whenever one so desires. All the years he’s lived has allowed him to learn how lethal it is, especially when in the wrong hands, and it’s done nothing but to reinforce his distaste of everything even remotely magical in nature. He has used it to hurt, to maim, and to kill - whether under his own volition or under the orders of his king. And so there is nothing in the world that will convince him to further study the magical arts more than he already has.

part 1

It starts when Scotland disses England’s penchant for board games. As expected, England refuses to stand for it and defends his interest in them. Scotland rebuffs everything he says until England loses his patience.

“You act as though you weren’t just as addicted to Dungeons and Dragons as Wales and I were a couple of decades back!” England, out of sheer frustration, eventually lets loose.

Northern Ireland has been determinedly avoiding his older brothers, but when he hears England say those words, he perks up and starts listening closely, interest piqued. On the other hand, Wales is drawn into the conversation because of the raised voices. He can’t bear it when Scotland and England fight each other, as they are wont to do, so he tends to but into conversations to prevent them from turning into an argument. This case is no different.

Scotland is taken aback by the mention of Dungeons and Dragons. It’s a game he hasn’t played in ages, and hearing the name spoken out loud brings back a lot of memories. Good and bad memories both, but memories nonetheless, and he can’t help but splutter in surprise for a few moments.

A bright grin of delight fills up Wales’ face when he hears the name Dungeons and Dragons, and he enters the conversation by talking about some session they’ve had in the past. Fondness is apparent in his tone, and excitement in the way his hands move around wildly. England, visibly smug by then, adds to what Wales is saying with something which clearly implies that Scotland had participated in their old sessions. It may be something he’d done or something he’d said, but nevertheless, it emanates a sense of pure Scotland that it leaves no doubt as to whether or not what England is saying is true.

Northern Ireland’s interest grows even stronger at this, and he sits up to peek at his brothers from behind the sofa he’s been laying down on. Wales notices him do so, and with a thoughtful look on his face, he asks:

“Speaking of, I don’t think we’ve ever introduced you to Dungeons and Dragons, have we, North?”

At those words, Northern Ireland freezes. All three of his brothers’ eyes are suddenly trained on him, and the attention discomfits him. There are contemplative looks on both England and Wales’ faces, whilst Scotland’s eyes seem as though they’re boring straight into his soul. He feels like a deer caught in the headlights.

Then Wales speaks the damning words – 

“How about we teach you how to play it?”

Bonus if Australia and New Zealand suddenly drop by their place halfway through and join the session.

And the others that can’t sense, and why… And the others that sense but “ignore it”, and why?

Does the magic have that much influence? Or there are other way of sense it?

… How would you describe the end of the world? … I meant like, a time question. It will happen soon or will be something that is far away but can’t be avoided. There are a lots of ways of ser the “end of the world” so I think that its important also know what perspective are you talking.

Sorry if my questions are kinda dumb, but I like to understand things deeply 😉 

– @hetaween​ in response to this

All the nation personifications are able to sense the end of the world. At least, that’s what they think it is. But the only personifications who know what they’re sensing actually entails are, yes, the ones who are attuned to magic. These personifications know that the “end of the world” isn’t really so, meaning that they’re aware, or at least have an inkling, of what is actually going to happen (which is much worse).

The personifications who ignore what every other of their kind considers the end of the world are just in denial, because they can’t accept that it’s actually going to happen. They can sense it, just like everyone else, and they should realise that it’s really going to happen, but they’ve let their emotions get the best of them. It’s like a person with, say, a terminal illness who won’t accept that they’re about to die. The hopelessness is overwhelming. The only way they feel like they can reclaim power over the situation is to deny that it’s real. And for these personifications, who have lived for centuries or perhaps even millennia, the thought that the world they’ve been inhabiting for all their life is about to disappear is nothing short of terrifying. 

As for the rest of your questions – they cover topics that are supposed to be up for interpretation, aka the answers should depend on the person using the idea. But if you wish to hear what my answers are, here you go. 

Magic has a lot of influence in this scenario. It doesn’t affect whether or not a personification can feel that something is wrong, which is why every personification (aside from the ones that are attuned to magic) believes that the end of the world is nigh. It does, however, allow the ones that can harness it to know more about what is happening. If what the other personifications have is only the knowledge that the world is about to end, what these few personifications have is the knowledge of what will bring it.

It’s a bit of a spoiler, I’d say, but seeing as I’m not particularly inclined to write more for this, I suppose it’s fine. 

The answer to what the end of the world actually entails is reliant on which personifications we’re talking about. Going by what almost all of them can sense, it’s just the certainty that after a period of time – within the next half century or so – they’ll no longer have anything to personify. Their people, their lands – all of that gone. 

Seeing as I left the drabble vague and open-ended, I understand why you have these questions. Although do keep in mind that I did so intentionally, meaning that the unanswered questions are part of the mystery. The way I wrote it was as if it’s a summary, after all. I hope I’ve managed to sufficiently answer your questions ^^

When the world is about to end, it is the nation personifications that first know it.

Perhaps it's just intuition. Perhaps it's their connection with this planet that tells them so. They're not sure, but they can feel it deep within their bones. It's certain, and there is no changing the fate of humanity.

Others hide themselves, unable to face other personifications after this realisation. Others decide to get together more often, attempting to savour the last moments of peace they are to have with each other. Others bury themselves deep in denial, refusing to accept the reality of the situation.

On the other hand, certain personifications convene in secret. These select few know that what others may consider the end of the world is not so, and that it is nothing but the herald of the arrival of something much worse.

These personifications are the ones who harness the very essence of the universe. They are able to see it, touch it, and use it.

This essence is what humans know as magic.

This essence is what keeps the universe - and all of its inhabitants - alive.

Now that the stability of magic is in peril, and these personifications are the only ones who know and can do anything about it, they will have to rely on each other in order to determine the cause of what is happening, and to prevent it.

This is more of an idea or a summary than anything else. I may or may not write more for this, but I'm leaning towards the latter seeing as I have other things I'd prefer to write. If anyone asks me to make more for this idea, I'll try my best to do so; otherwise, this will be the first and last.

However, I will allow others to use this idea. Send me an off-anon ask requesting for permission to do so, and I will grant it. The only condition is that whoever wishes to use it must link to this post and give credit. Also, the asks will be answered privately, so no need to worry about that.