Taming of the Bull (1.1/?)
anonymous
August 23 2009, 00:57:39 UTC
A/N: This is going to be my first APH fic, and it’s also my first time writing most of these characters, so please pardon any sloppiness! ;;;
I'll be using human names. But as for Rome and Germania, they’re gonna keep their names. Just because I can’t think of alternative ones for them that work. C:
It won’t be very Taming of the Shrew-esque at all in the beginning, but I promise that the elements will be incorporated as the fic goes on. But, also keep in mind that I’m not aiming to make this identical to its source. It’s my own take on the play, but I’m sorry if I offend any Shakespeare fans out there with my interpretation.
Thank you, and enjoy!
Dead silence sat heavily in the room, save for the sound of everyone’s jaws dropping. At the head of the table, Rome continued to wear his crooked grin, seeming unbothered by his own shocking announcement.
Then, after a long and awkward moment, a single voice broke through the thick lull.
“You’re retiring?!”
Outside the towering skyscraper, a black Rolls Royce finally managed to escape from the crawling traffic. The vehicle turned into a parking garage, its glossy coat reflecting the dim lighting from the walls. Maneuvering through the crowded lots, it finally pulled into an empty space. The doors to the driver’s and passenger’s seats swung open.
“So you think,” said Ludwig, as he held up a large brown envelope, “that this is actually a time bomb meant to assassinate Rome Vargas. Is that right?”
The other man scoffed, kicking the passenger door closed. “C’mon, you know it could totally happen. Dad hates him, he gives us this suspicious package to give to him, and y’know what happens to him?” Gilbert smirked, holding up two fists and flashing them open, waggling his fingers at his brother’s face. “Boom. That’s what happens.”
Ludwig only frowned as he opened the envelope, sifting through. “Just looks like a bunch of files to me.”
“Hey, hey!” Gilbert said, making ‘tsk’ noises with his tongue. “Shame on you, you’re supposed to be the good seed of the family! Didn’t Dad teach you not to go through his papers?”
“… This coming from a man who searches my room for my journal on a daily basis.”
“I never said I was the good seed.” A shrug. “And hey, I’m just lookin’ out for your welfare. A grown man shouldn’t be writing in a diary, anyways.”
“Journal, not a diary.”
“A book where you talk about all the oh-so-dreary points of your day, pouring out all your emotions and feelings and basically venting your PMS?” The red-eyed man quirked an eyebrow. “Sounds like a diary to me.”
Ludwig decided that there was no point trying to argue with his brother (though anyone could see that it was a journal, not a goddamn diary, there was a huge difference!). They had headed into the elevator and were nearing the boardroom anyways. Making a ruckus was the least of his goals.
Checking to see if Gilbert was still behind him (and not chasing after some attractive secretary), Ludwig opened the door to the room.
However, as he stepped into the boardroom, he was met with chaos.
“You can’t possibly be retiring!! You’re not even that old, are you?!”
“Who’s going to meet up with that representative and…”
“… have the huge corporate meeting, this Thursday, you can’t possibly expect to…”
“… there’s no way you can just walk out now, not with all the projects that we…”
“… how are you going decide who will take your place and…”
“… you still owe me thirty bucks, bastard!!”
Rome, the trigger for all the shouting from practically everyone else in the room, was simply leaning back in his chair. He looked perfectly calm and content amidst all the noise.
Ludwig considered stepping right back out. If there was anything he disliked, it was a room of rowdy people who couldn’t act civilized.
“Oh, Germania’s kid!” Rome flashed a wide grin, and Ludwig winced. There went any possibility of escaping unnoticed. “That’s for me, right? I got some files for him t’give you when this meeting is over, you can just take a seat while you wait. You too, Gilbert,” he called out to the doorway, where the lankier brother was standing. Gilbert smirked back, walking over to the table of protesting employees and pulling out a chair for Ludwig.
Taming of the Bull (1.2/?)
anonymous
August 23 2009, 00:59:38 UTC
Ludwig frowned at that, but he sat down regardless, pointedly ignoring Gilbert as the man sat down in the adjacent chair.
“As I was saying!” Rome’s clear baritone voice cut through all the others, regaining control of the room. “I’m retiring, and someone’s going to be taking my place. One of my lovely VPs, of course! And that will obviously be…”
There was an audible sound of scraping chairs as everyone sat up straighter.
“… decided by my cute little Feliciano, of course!”
There was a unanimous groan throughout the whole room. A bushy-eyebrowed man stood up, scowling like a professional.
“You can’t possibly expect him to know who to choose!!” Arthur opposed vehemently. “He doesn’t know anything about running a company! Are you really going to allow your silly favoritism get in the way of this?!”
There were a more than a few nods of consent throughout the room.
“I am confident he’ll make the right choice for this company,” Rome replied, matter-of-factly.
“Are you kidding me?! You brought him here to record the meeting, but he’s just drawing on Paint!”
All heads turned to the young man seated next to Rome. Feliciano looked, to put it plainly, as bored as hell. His chin rested on the tabletop, and his hands worked away at the laptop’s touchpad as he toiled away at his Paint program masterpiece.
This only triggered a loud, hearty laugh from the president as he leaned over to survey his son’s work. “Amazing, Feliciano!! Only to be expected from my cute son,” he exclaimed. “Who is that?”
The Italian snapped out of whatever daze he was in, giving a bright smile to Rome as he proudly announced, “That man!” He pointed a finger across the table at Ludwig, much to his shock.
“W-What?! Me?” Ludwig’s eyebrows shot up as he slowly blinked, not knowing how to react at all, and yet… somehow very curious to see the drawing. Even if he was a little creeped out.
“And it looks exactly like him, you’re so talented!” Rome ruffled the young man’s hair with a happy chuckle.
“That’s beside the point!!” Arthur shouted, seeming disgruntled at being ignored. “He has no experience in the field of business, and you really cannot expect him to-!”
“My decision is final.” The president’s gaze was steady as he stated, “If you are that concerned, then anyone is open to find a tutor for Feliciano. Otherwise, I don’t want to hear any objections. After all, my cute son will be working in this company in due time, isn’t that right?”
Feliciano gave a winning smile and simply said, “Whatever you want, Papa.”
“There you have it. This will be good training for his future career.” Rome gave Feliciano’s hair another ruffle before standing up. He pulled a folder out of his briefcase and handed it to Ludwig. “Here you are, kid. Get it to him fast. Y’know how he gets.”
Ludwig nodded slowly, trying to absorb the eccentricity of the off-beat meeting.
“Very good! I’ll be taking my leave, then. Have a good day!” Rome flashed a shiny grin, flicking his hand in farewell as he strode out of the room.
The whole room was silent for a good minute before a wave of murmurs filtered through the air. From the sounds of it, all of the board members felt a mixture of confusion, skepticism, and outrage. Arthur, who was still standing, looked completely infuriated as he snatched up his briefcase and stormed towards the door.
Francis, the man who had been sitting next to him, wore an amused smile as he stood up as well. He followed the Englishman out.
Meanwhile, Ludwig was massaging his temple. This whole meeting had managed to give him one giant migraine (disorder and dissent in any workforce tended to do that to him). Was this really how Rome decided to lead his company? It was irritating to watch. At the university Ludwig worked at, he made certain from the first day of class that his students would behave as students should - quietly and efficiently.
With a heavy sigh, he pushed his chair back, looking to his side. “Gilbert, let’s -…”
Unsurprisingly, his brother was not in his seat.
He glanced across the table, where Gilbert was standing next to Feliciano’s chair, grinning widely at the drawing on the laptop. They seemed to be discussing it, the Italian looking more hyped up than he had for the entirety of the meeting.
Taming of the Bull (1.3/?)
anonymous
August 23 2009, 01:01:36 UTC
Standing from his chair with eyebrows furrowed, Ludwig stated as calmly as possible, “Gilbert, we have to go now.”
“Aw, c’mon West!” Gilbert replied. “Y’gotta see this, it’s fuckin’ amazing! Looks exactly like you, I swear!”
This only made Ludwig more worried. Knowing Gilbert’s definition of ‘fuckin’ amazing,’ he was now suspecting that the drawing was actually some sort of joke or jibe towards him. It wouldn’t have been the first time, after all.
But, even so, curiosity took over and he walked around the table to where his brother and the strange man were, striding with a sense of purpose as to maintain some image of efficiency. “I really don’t see why I must see this,” he muttered, but as he leaned over Feliciano’s shoulder to take a peek, he swallowed his own words and simply stared.
It was needless to say that Ludwig knew absolutely nothing about art or anything related. However, anyone could plainly see that this was a work of talent. It was a near-perfect portrait of him, with all the details and shades and colors and lines down to a tee. It looked like something that could be displayed in a museum, and yet, it was only produced with Paint and a touchpad in a ridiculously short amount of time.
“Wow,” Ludwig said, no other words coming to mind.
“I know, right?” Gilbert exclaimed proudly, as if he had been the producer. “I don’t know what you’re doing here in this stuffy room, Feli, you could make big bucks with this alone!”
“Feli?”
“Got a problem with that, West?” The albino man clapped Feliciano’s shoulder. “This little guy’s my new buddy!”
“Who’s West?” Feliciano asked with doe eyes.
Gilbert gave a wicked smirk. “That would be the star of your portrait, m’dear! This gruff bear’s Ludwig, though his middle name’s West and I personally think it sounds a lot more badass. Don’cha think, Feli?”
The youngest Vargas seemed to contemplate this. “Ehh, but Ludwig’s a good name too. Like the music guy, right?”
“I… guess,” Ludwig replied, a little uncomfortable being the center of this conversation.
“Hey, Feli, question! Why did you go drawing him when the fabulous me was sitting right next to him?” asked Gilbert jokingly, resting an elbow on top of the brunette’s head.
“Mm… because he’s really attractive!” Feliciano said with utmost sincerity, and Ludwig physically flinched from the embarrassing honesty of the statement. “I’ve never had the chance to draw such a great jawline before! And his eyes, and cheekbones, and his nose too! They’re all very handsome!”
Ludwig progressively grew redder and redder in complexion as the sentence went on. Had this man no sense of shame? Having been raised by his father and brother, he was completely unprepared for the onslaught of flattery. As Feliciano rambled on, Ludwig could only stand by dumbstruck.
“And I thought you looked kind of scary at first, but you seem like a nice guy!” Feliciano gasped, as if he had just encountered the most genius idea ever. “I know! Let’s be friends!” He stuck out his hand, smiling the sunniest smile Ludwig had ever seen. “I’m Feliciano! It’s very nice to meet you, Ludwig!”
Ludwig, whose cheeks were still stained with a light blush, trained to retain his composure as he took the other man’s hand and shook it. “Yes… it’s very nice to meet you as well.”
“Oh, are you doing anything for lunch?” Feliciano’s wide eyes were practically sparkling.
In face of that puppy-dog expression, Ludwig found himself feeling genuinely regretful as he said, “I’m sorry, I’m on a tight schedule today. But maybe some other time?”
Feliciano nodded, though Ludwig could practically see the man’s drooping tail and ears. But then the Italian perked up again as he chirped, “Okay! I know this place that makes great pasta, I’ll take you there!”
“R-Right,” Ludwig replied with a small smile (a much unused one, at that). “Brother, let’s go.” With another nod to their new acquaintance, he headed for the exit, Gilbert following close behind.
I'll be using human names. But as for Rome and Germania, they’re gonna keep their names. Just because I can’t think of alternative ones for them that work. C:
It won’t be very Taming of the Shrew-esque at all in the beginning, but I promise that the elements will be incorporated as the fic goes on. But, also keep in mind that I’m not aiming to make this identical to its source. It’s my own take on the play, but I’m sorry if I offend any Shakespeare fans out there with my interpretation.
Thank you, and enjoy!
Dead silence sat heavily in the room, save for the sound of everyone’s jaws dropping. At the head of the table, Rome continued to wear his crooked grin, seeming unbothered by his own shocking announcement.
Then, after a long and awkward moment, a single voice broke through the thick lull.
“You’re retiring?!”
Outside the towering skyscraper, a black Rolls Royce finally managed to escape from the crawling traffic. The vehicle turned into a parking garage, its glossy coat reflecting the dim lighting from the walls. Maneuvering through the crowded lots, it finally pulled into an empty space. The doors to the driver’s and passenger’s seats swung open.
“So you think,” said Ludwig, as he held up a large brown envelope, “that this is actually a time bomb meant to assassinate Rome Vargas. Is that right?”
The other man scoffed, kicking the passenger door closed. “C’mon, you know it could totally happen. Dad hates him, he gives us this suspicious package to give to him, and y’know what happens to him?” Gilbert smirked, holding up two fists and flashing them open, waggling his fingers at his brother’s face. “Boom. That’s what happens.”
Ludwig only frowned as he opened the envelope, sifting through. “Just looks like a bunch of files to me.”
“Hey, hey!” Gilbert said, making ‘tsk’ noises with his tongue. “Shame on you, you’re supposed to be the good seed of the family! Didn’t Dad teach you not to go through his papers?”
“… This coming from a man who searches my room for my journal on a daily basis.”
“I never said I was the good seed.” A shrug. “And hey, I’m just lookin’ out for your welfare. A grown man shouldn’t be writing in a diary, anyways.”
“Journal, not a diary.”
“A book where you talk about all the oh-so-dreary points of your day, pouring out all your emotions and feelings and basically venting your PMS?” The red-eyed man quirked an eyebrow. “Sounds like a diary to me.”
Ludwig decided that there was no point trying to argue with his brother (though anyone could see that it was a journal, not a goddamn diary, there was a huge difference!). They had headed into the elevator and were nearing the boardroom anyways. Making a ruckus was the least of his goals.
Checking to see if Gilbert was still behind him (and not chasing after some attractive secretary), Ludwig opened the door to the room.
However, as he stepped into the boardroom, he was met with chaos.
“You can’t possibly be retiring!! You’re not even that old, are you?!”
“Who’s going to meet up with that representative and…”
“… have the huge corporate meeting, this Thursday, you can’t possibly expect to…”
“… there’s no way you can just walk out now, not with all the projects that we…”
“… how are you going decide who will take your place and…”
“… you still owe me thirty bucks, bastard!!”
Rome, the trigger for all the shouting from practically everyone else in the room, was simply leaning back in his chair. He looked perfectly calm and content amidst all the noise.
Ludwig considered stepping right back out. If there was anything he disliked, it was a room of rowdy people who couldn’t act civilized.
“Oh, Germania’s kid!” Rome flashed a wide grin, and Ludwig winced. There went any possibility of escaping unnoticed. “That’s for me, right? I got some files for him t’give you when this meeting is over, you can just take a seat while you wait. You too, Gilbert,” he called out to the doorway, where the lankier brother was standing. Gilbert smirked back, walking over to the table of protesting employees and pulling out a chair for Ludwig.
“Ladies first,” he chirped.
Reply
“As I was saying!” Rome’s clear baritone voice cut through all the others, regaining control of the room. “I’m retiring, and someone’s going to be taking my place. One of my lovely VPs, of course! And that will obviously be…”
There was an audible sound of scraping chairs as everyone sat up straighter.
“… decided by my cute little Feliciano, of course!”
There was a unanimous groan throughout the whole room. A bushy-eyebrowed man stood up, scowling like a professional.
“You can’t possibly expect him to know who to choose!!” Arthur opposed vehemently. “He doesn’t know anything about running a company! Are you really going to allow your silly favoritism get in the way of this?!”
There were a more than a few nods of consent throughout the room.
“I am confident he’ll make the right choice for this company,” Rome replied, matter-of-factly.
“Are you kidding me?! You brought him here to record the meeting, but he’s just drawing on Paint!”
All heads turned to the young man seated next to Rome. Feliciano looked, to put it plainly, as bored as hell. His chin rested on the tabletop, and his hands worked away at the laptop’s touchpad as he toiled away at his Paint program masterpiece.
This only triggered a loud, hearty laugh from the president as he leaned over to survey his son’s work. “Amazing, Feliciano!! Only to be expected from my cute son,” he exclaimed. “Who is that?”
The Italian snapped out of whatever daze he was in, giving a bright smile to Rome as he proudly announced, “That man!” He pointed a finger across the table at Ludwig, much to his shock.
“W-What?! Me?” Ludwig’s eyebrows shot up as he slowly blinked, not knowing how to react at all, and yet… somehow very curious to see the drawing. Even if he was a little creeped out.
“And it looks exactly like him, you’re so talented!” Rome ruffled the young man’s hair with a happy chuckle.
“That’s beside the point!!” Arthur shouted, seeming disgruntled at being ignored. “He has no experience in the field of business, and you really cannot expect him to-!”
“My decision is final.” The president’s gaze was steady as he stated, “If you are that concerned, then anyone is open to find a tutor for Feliciano. Otherwise, I don’t want to hear any objections. After all, my cute son will be working in this company in due time, isn’t that right?”
Feliciano gave a winning smile and simply said, “Whatever you want, Papa.”
“There you have it. This will be good training for his future career.” Rome gave Feliciano’s hair another ruffle before standing up. He pulled a folder out of his briefcase and handed it to Ludwig. “Here you are, kid. Get it to him fast. Y’know how he gets.”
Ludwig nodded slowly, trying to absorb the eccentricity of the off-beat meeting.
“Very good! I’ll be taking my leave, then. Have a good day!” Rome flashed a shiny grin, flicking his hand in farewell as he strode out of the room.
The whole room was silent for a good minute before a wave of murmurs filtered through the air. From the sounds of it, all of the board members felt a mixture of confusion, skepticism, and outrage. Arthur, who was still standing, looked completely infuriated as he snatched up his briefcase and stormed towards the door.
Francis, the man who had been sitting next to him, wore an amused smile as he stood up as well. He followed the Englishman out.
Meanwhile, Ludwig was massaging his temple. This whole meeting had managed to give him one giant migraine (disorder and dissent in any workforce tended to do that to him). Was this really how Rome decided to lead his company? It was irritating to watch. At the university Ludwig worked at, he made certain from the first day of class that his students would behave as students should - quietly and efficiently.
With a heavy sigh, he pushed his chair back, looking to his side. “Gilbert, let’s -…”
Unsurprisingly, his brother was not in his seat.
He glanced across the table, where Gilbert was standing next to Feliciano’s chair, grinning widely at the drawing on the laptop. They seemed to be discussing it, the Italian looking more hyped up than he had for the entirety of the meeting.
Reply
Standing from his chair with eyebrows furrowed, Ludwig stated as calmly as possible, “Gilbert, we have to go now.”
“Aw, c’mon West!” Gilbert replied. “Y’gotta see this, it’s fuckin’ amazing! Looks exactly like you, I swear!”
This only made Ludwig more worried. Knowing Gilbert’s definition of ‘fuckin’ amazing,’ he was now suspecting that the drawing was actually some sort of joke or jibe towards him. It wouldn’t have been the first time, after all.
But, even so, curiosity took over and he walked around the table to where his brother and the strange man were, striding with a sense of purpose as to maintain some image of efficiency. “I really don’t see why I must see this,” he muttered, but as he leaned over Feliciano’s shoulder to take a peek, he swallowed his own words and simply stared.
It was needless to say that Ludwig knew absolutely nothing about art or anything related. However, anyone could plainly see that this was a work of talent. It was a near-perfect portrait of him, with all the details and shades and colors and lines down to a tee. It looked like something that could be displayed in a museum, and yet, it was only produced with Paint and a touchpad in a ridiculously short amount of time.
“Wow,” Ludwig said, no other words coming to mind.
“I know, right?” Gilbert exclaimed proudly, as if he had been the producer. “I don’t know what you’re doing here in this stuffy room, Feli, you could make big bucks with this alone!”
“Feli?”
“Got a problem with that, West?” The albino man clapped Feliciano’s shoulder. “This little guy’s my new buddy!”
“Who’s West?” Feliciano asked with doe eyes.
Gilbert gave a wicked smirk. “That would be the star of your portrait, m’dear! This gruff bear’s Ludwig, though his middle name’s West and I personally think it sounds a lot more badass. Don’cha think, Feli?”
The youngest Vargas seemed to contemplate this. “Ehh, but Ludwig’s a good name too. Like the music guy, right?”
“I… guess,” Ludwig replied, a little uncomfortable being the center of this conversation.
“Hey, Feli, question! Why did you go drawing him when the fabulous me was sitting right next to him?” asked Gilbert jokingly, resting an elbow on top of the brunette’s head.
“Mm… because he’s really attractive!” Feliciano said with utmost sincerity, and Ludwig physically flinched from the embarrassing honesty of the statement. “I’ve never had the chance to draw such a great jawline before! And his eyes, and cheekbones, and his nose too! They’re all very handsome!”
Ludwig progressively grew redder and redder in complexion as the sentence went on. Had this man no sense of shame? Having been raised by his father and brother, he was completely unprepared for the onslaught of flattery. As Feliciano rambled on, Ludwig could only stand by dumbstruck.
“And I thought you looked kind of scary at first, but you seem like a nice guy!” Feliciano gasped, as if he had just encountered the most genius idea ever. “I know! Let’s be friends!” He stuck out his hand, smiling the sunniest smile Ludwig had ever seen. “I’m Feliciano! It’s very nice to meet you, Ludwig!”
Ludwig, whose cheeks were still stained with a light blush, trained to retain his composure as he took the other man’s hand and shook it. “Yes… it’s very nice to meet you as well.”
“Oh, are you doing anything for lunch?” Feliciano’s wide eyes were practically sparkling.
In face of that puppy-dog expression, Ludwig found himself feeling genuinely regretful as he said, “I’m sorry, I’m on a tight schedule today. But maybe some other time?”
Feliciano nodded, though Ludwig could practically see the man’s drooping tail and ears. But then the Italian perked up again as he chirped, “Okay! I know this place that makes great pasta, I’ll take you there!”
“R-Right,” Ludwig replied with a small smile (a much unused one, at that). “Brother, let’s go.” With another nod to their new acquaintance, he headed for the exit, Gilbert following close behind.
Reply
Leave a comment