A Life in Ten Minutes [1/1]
anonymous
March 4 2010, 19:12:50 UTC
(This is a TOTAL fail!fill, but I tried. And I'm very sorry but there is a little bit of PrussiaAustria in here. Not too much, hopefully.)
He was the first thing she saw. When she forced her way out of a flesh-colored prison cell, burst forth, the first thing she saw was red. And when she shook her head and rid herself of the dribble of blood in her eyes... she still saw only red.
And then she found out that they were eyes, two pools of childish curiosity and an inner strength that she knew couldn't belong to anyone but her mother, the one who would save her and protect her. She let out a cheerful peep, and he said something long and complicated, lifting her up in a giant, featherless wing, and holding her up to the sky. She took on his name, and Gilbird wondered if anyone had ever been so proud of a simple moniker as she was of her own.
They were inseparable, even as time flowed quickly. Around them, humans were born, grew old, and died, but Gilbert was unchanging. She had watched him fight mercilessly, her tiny bones shivering with pride at her mother's strength, and when they exchanged swords for rifles and daggers for pistols, she only looked at her reflection in the metal and was praised and fed. Another human, whose one spot of hair was the same color as her own tiny feathers (which she still hadn't grown out of, after all this time) appeared after a while. His name was Germany, but she called him 'Uncle Ludwig', like her mother told her to.
Gilbert had begun to change. Instead of spending all his time at home, he now spent evenings out. And when he came home, he was always either exhausted or fuming about something, something he wouldn't explain no matter how hard she tried to get it out of him.
And one day, he came home with another, the one who bore the name of the person he talked about all the time. “Gilbird,” He said slowly, “This is Austria. Austria, this is Gilbird.”
“Prussia,” The man said slowly, “It's a bird. It can't understand you.”
Gilbird gave an indignant tweet and bit his finger.
-
Time had passed, and Gilbird still didn't like Austria too much. But in the mornings, when they would both wake up beside each other, go into the kitchen and make breakfast... she felt a little twinge of happiness, that Gilbert was happy like this, arguing over the morning drinks and how to cook the pork. Gilbird just pecked her breakfast quietly, knowing that if she had lips she would have smiled.
-
Dark times had come. Gilbert had lost a lot of weight, separated from his brother and being torn apart by the few who were in control of him. Many days Gilbird would flutter down to the great wall that was separating them, a monster of brick and concrete and graffiti, and she would peck viciously at it, peep at it, tell it to step aside, let her mother be free from its evil clutches, that her mother would die if this continued.
The wall only stared down at her, cold and uncaring.
-
She watched her mother slowly suffer, Austria, Hungary, and even Ludwig now with him. Gilbird, ever the loyal friend, perched on his chest as he lay. His life was waning quickly, and when she turned to them all and tweeted loudly... “Pull him up,” Ludwig said softly.
“What?” Austria huffed. “That's nonsense, he'll -” Ludwig did it himself, pulling his big brother into a sitting position against the wall. Gilbird hopped onto his shoulder, curled against his jaw. And together, powerful master and faithful servant began to die. Austria cried softly, Hungary pat his back and Germany looked on in mourning.
“He would want to go with his head held high,” He said softly. And until her final dying breath, Gilbird was proud to have someone like Prussia as a mother.
He was the first thing she saw. When she forced her way out of a flesh-colored prison cell, burst forth, the first thing she saw was red. And when she shook her head and rid herself of the dribble of blood in her eyes... she still saw only red.
And then she found out that they were eyes, two pools of childish curiosity and an inner strength that she knew couldn't belong to anyone but her mother, the one who would save her and protect her. She let out a cheerful peep, and he said something long and complicated, lifting her up in a giant, featherless wing, and holding her up to the sky. She took on his name, and Gilbird wondered if anyone had ever been so proud of a simple moniker as she was of her own.
They were inseparable, even as time flowed quickly. Around them, humans were born, grew old, and died, but Gilbert was unchanging. She had watched him fight mercilessly, her tiny bones shivering with pride at her mother's strength, and when they exchanged swords for rifles and daggers for pistols, she only looked at her reflection in the metal and was praised and fed. Another human, whose one spot of hair was the same color as her own tiny feathers (which she still hadn't grown out of, after all this time) appeared after a while. His name was Germany, but she called him 'Uncle Ludwig', like her mother told her to.
Gilbert had begun to change. Instead of spending all his time at home, he now spent evenings out. And when he came home, he was always either exhausted or fuming about something, something he wouldn't explain no matter how hard she tried to get it out of him.
And one day, he came home with another, the one who bore the name of the person he talked about all the time. “Gilbird,” He said slowly, “This is Austria. Austria, this is Gilbird.”
“Prussia,” The man said slowly, “It's a bird. It can't understand you.”
Gilbird gave an indignant tweet and bit his finger.
-
Time had passed, and Gilbird still didn't like Austria too much. But in the mornings, when they would both wake up beside each other, go into the kitchen and make breakfast... she felt a little twinge of happiness, that Gilbert was happy like this, arguing over the morning drinks and how to cook the pork. Gilbird just pecked her breakfast quietly, knowing that if she had lips she would have smiled.
-
Dark times had come. Gilbert had lost a lot of weight, separated from his brother and being torn apart by the few who were in control of him. Many days Gilbird would flutter down to the great wall that was separating them, a monster of brick and concrete and graffiti, and she would peck viciously at it, peep at it, tell it to step aside, let her mother be free from its evil clutches, that her mother would die if this continued.
The wall only stared down at her, cold and uncaring.
-
She watched her mother slowly suffer, Austria, Hungary, and even Ludwig now with him. Gilbird, ever the loyal friend, perched on his chest as he lay. His life was waning quickly, and when she turned to them all and tweeted loudly... “Pull him up,” Ludwig said softly.
“What?” Austria huffed. “That's nonsense, he'll -” Ludwig did it himself, pulling his big brother into a sitting position against the wall. Gilbird hopped onto his shoulder, curled against his jaw. And together, powerful master and faithful servant began to die. Austria cried softly, Hungary pat his back and Germany looked on in mourning.
“He would want to go with his head held high,” He said softly. And until her final dying breath, Gilbird was proud to have someone like Prussia as a mother.
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sobs
AAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWW~~~
I have no coherent words to give. Just smiles :) and sobs :'( or :')
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Brb, tissues.
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