Both Sides of A Mirror - PROLOGUE; 5:00AM PART A
anonymous
August 26 2010, 18:34:45 UTC
I-I hope that OP!anon doesn't mind another fill;;
(For the sake of differentiating the past from the present, the present FACE will be referred to in their human names in narratives and the past FACE will be referred to as their country names.)
---
Prologue - 5:00AM PART A
Alfred knew, when he awoke to England straddling his waist, decked out in his full redcoat glory, a musket pointed right to his forehead and those sharp, furious eyes looking straight at him, that today was just going to be one of those days-you know, the 'I got drunk so let's drown about the past' days.
(On the bright side, he woke up early for once, but that wasn't the point now.)
"Where.the.fuck.am.I?" A push, and the nozzle was shoved straight against his forehead.
Only half awake, Alfred stifled a yawn and tried to nudge the gun nozzle away from his face. "England, as much as I think you look rather bitching hot in that getup and all, it's-" he paused and turned his head slightly towards the clock on the dresser. "-5AM. I'd really, really like to sleep some more before the both of us start having wild monkey sex in the morning. Now put that thing back and go back to sleep."
What Alfred didn't expect, was that after a splutter, followed by some kind of a noise that sounded vaguely like a word being stuck in the throat (the American was too caught up in a sleep induced haze to discern what exactly England said), England cocked his musket.
Blank or not, Alfred did not want to start a morning with an injury. He immediately yanked the musket out of England's hands before he had the time to pull the trigger and threw it to one side. England gave a yelp as he stumbled back, landing on the floor back first.
"Jesus, England! That's fucking dangerous! Are you that drunk or just that desperate!?" Alfred half yelled, fully awake by now. He reached out blindly, groping around the dresser for his glasses and the table lamp switch. The lamp lit up and Alfred pushed the frames up against his nose, irritated as he climbed out of the bed. "And what are you doing here? I thought you were-" Alfred's words died in his throat when he saw England's face. "...England? Holy shit." He immediately knelt down, grabbing the nearest available cloth (which was his blanket) and tried to mop up some of the blood on England's forehead.
"You imprudent brat, I am not falling for one of your tricks." England snarled, knocked away Alfred's hand. "We are still in the middle of fighting a damned war against each other."
Alfred felt his blood go cold.
"War?"
"Of course, you idiot. You and your need for independence." England spat out the last word bitterly.
Oh, fuck.
+++
'Your past will come back and haunt you' had literally taken up on quite a whole meaning with Arthur Kirkland.
Really, Arthur thought wryly, Fate was such a bitch sometimes. He stared at the angry teen that stood just a few feet away from the foot of his bed. The blonde donned in blue Revolutionary war outfit that obviously screamed 'I am not from this era!', that, and when he flipped on the lights, Arthur saw a decidedly younger America was glaring at him.
Arthur exhaled deeply, closing his eyes for moment before meeting his eyes with those startlingly bright blue pools.
"This is going to take some time."
---
A/N:I will post up the next part when I am more coherent. ORL for now read this kinda fail thing from this writer!anon.
Re: Both Sides of A Mirror - PROLOGUE; 5:00AM PART A
anonymous
August 26 2010, 18:52:16 UTC
Holy shit, this looks fantastic, anon! I see no fail, and I read it twice to see if it was as promising on a second read. ;P
And thank you so much for the consideration you showed with your name choices; I don't think I could read it if that was unclear, and I'd hate to miss out on something that looks this damn good. And funny, judging from that first scene. <3 Poor, confused England.
And I'd ask why England hasn't noticed that Alfred appears much older than his America should, but he already suspects some kind of trick. Poor thing. And he feels America is betraying him, so I can see him believing that America was concealing magic of his own or something similar. And he's blinded by his own fear/rage/confusion, not mention that America has always been England's blind spot. :'D
... And I use run-on sentences when I'm excited; didja notice? :D
Re: Both Sides of A Mirror - PROLOGUE; 5:00AM PART A
anonymous
August 26 2010, 22:23:21 UTC
Author!anon of first fill will dutifully stalk this one too. And will probably get horribly twisted around since the human and country names are switched from hers (not that that's a bad thing or anything).
Having said that, I can't wait to see where this goes!
Re: Both Sides of A Mirror - PROLOGUE; 5:00AM PART A
anonymous
August 27 2010, 00:16:03 UTC
Niiiice~~ I loved the contrast between present!America and England to the other's past selves. England shows his wisdom, age and occult fanatism in his patient, long-suffering reaction to the impossible apparition, and America his lovey-dovey, idiotically adorable atittude and his youth jumping straight to sex asumptions
Re: Both Sides of A Mirror - PROLOGUE; 5:00AM PART A
anonymous
August 27 2010, 06:08:21 UTC
I think it's hilarious that everyone agrees that if Rev!England showed up in America's bedroom and America's just woken up, his first assumption is that England's up to his usual kinky antics again. I'll never tire of seeing variations of this theme though. Never.
Both Sides of A Mirror - PROLOGUE; 5:00AM PART B
anonymous
August 27 2010, 09:03:39 UTC
" Italics " = French. Sound effects are also in italics, without the " ".
Also, Anon!writer thinks that if all SFXs had different languages, it would be funny. But disregard that. On to the fic!
---
Francis' ears were still ringing.
He rubbed them gingerly, wincing a little. Did Canada have to scream that loud in his ears when he realized that he was sleeping beside a very naked Francis?
Given, it was justified (not forgiven yet, there's a difference) that the Canada sitting right across the table, fidgeting nervously in his seat (his eyes were darting from Francis to the door every now and then) was wearing clothes that did not belong to this century (Francis knew too well which century it came from) , and the young nation looked a whole lot more..innocent.
Francis immediately squashed the next mental image that came up in his brain, disturbed by his own thoughts. This was wrong-he was anything but like that English barbarian!
"-Papa?"
Francis snapped out of his reverie. Canada had leaned slightly forward, his hand curling around the edge of Francis' shirt sleeve. "Are you alright?"
He smiled and shook his head slightly. Some things still stayed the same. Francis took Matthew's hand into his and patted it lightly. "I am fine. Do you want some breakfast? I am sure you are hungry."
Canada nodded his head, a little hesitant. He was getting more confused by the minute. Francis understood why, but he had to take things slowly in order not to confuse the poor boy more. There were a couple of things he needed to do-call up Arthur and inform about this, message the other Canada (Matthew, he reminded himself-Francis was starting to hate the whole concept of time travel now) and make a trip over to London, England promptly.
However before all of that, Francis decided, having nice, quiet breakfast and assuring that Canada that it was a norm for Francis to sleep in his birthday suit and he was not attempting to deflower his ex charge topped his list of priorities at the moment.
+++
There was something out there.
Matthew's grip on the revolver became a tad tighter. Beside, Kumajirou let out small whine. He fervently prayed that it was his idiotic brother idea of a prank, because if it was a huge bear or hungry, wild animal, things were going to get just a little more complicated.
Why can't people show up normally for once, instead of going through all of this just to set up a dramatic atmosphere and all? Matthew thought, a little irate. Animals too. We might all save a few innocent lives in the process and not kill off any endangered species accidentally.
Crunch.
Matthew inhaled sharply. He turned around, gun cocked and ready to shoot. His mind was already scrambling to formulate a few back up plans in the head for whatever had shown itself.
"Matthieu?"
Okay, so maybe he was not expecting Francis.
"Francis?" He lowered his revolver, completely surprised. "What are you doing here? I thought you were busy-?" Matthew trailed off when he saw what France was wearing, and then immediately blamed Arthur when he saw France's face.
(Back in London, Arthur sneezed violently. America smirked a little.)
France, however, seemed completely oblivious to Matthew increasing distress. He strode over and enveloped the stunned Matthew in a hug. "Forgive me-" France pulled away, his voice trembling a little. "I haven't seen you for a very long time." He patted Matthew's shoulder, looking up and down in approval. "At least that uncouth Englishman had fed you well."
"Uh, yeah, sure." Matthew let out a shaky laugh while he racked his brain for any wrong doings he did to Arthur. An apology would come after that. "Listen, Francis-"
"Papa." He looked at Matthew wearily, a nostalgic look in his eyes. "Can you call me that? Just this once? "
Matthew's response was to swear extremely loudly.
--
A/N: And now the story starts for real! orz I am glad that I didn't fail and that the rest of the anons enjoyed this. >v
Re: Both Sides of A Mirror - PROLOGUE; 5:00AM PART B
anonymous
August 27 2010, 12:04:08 UTC
There was something out there.
BEST. ENTRANCE. EVER figures it'd be France'sXD Ok, no, the best part was when I realised he has a gun, for God's sake. He's the only one prepared for intruders! xDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
Once again, the contrast between them is great! I love that the Europeans make the jump without a problem, but even someone sensible and intelligent like Matt took his time. eighteenth-century!France, you break my heart there at the end ;_;
Didn't mean to shout but it's the first time a request of mine has got two fills, two brilliant fills which I adore in completely different ways (mainly because they are two completely different fills if that makes sense). The end of a week at work and I came home to this! I actually did a little happy dance. Okay hugely long comment because there's a lot to comment on.
First of all, I love America. Especially in this fill, thinking that it was some kind of roleplay thing and the things he said to England. Loved how he was all worried that England was bleeding and then responded in a rather panicked manner to the whole time travel thing which definitely contrasted to England's calm, collected manner as if time travel was some small hurdle before work.
Aw France tries to stop perverted thoughts because he doesn't want to be as perverted as England while England probably does the same thing thinking that he doesn't want to be as perverted as France.
Canada being the prepared one with a gun and back up plans was unexpected but very good. Poor past!France (I will use your idea of names during future reviews), he's so sad and regretful and wanting Canada to call him Papa.
I love how everyone thinks that England has something to do with it (does he?), I can't wait to see what happens when you get them all together (are you?).
I think I forgot to say, thank you so much for filling this and I will be watching carefully for more.
Both Sides of A Mirror -Let's Not Cause A Paradox PART 1A
anonymous
August 27 2010, 17:17:50 UTC
The situation was even more complicated than Arthur imagined. One call from Francis, a frantic text message from Alfred and a passive-aggressive voice-mail (Francis was on the line when Canada called, America had taken the liberty of messing around with his mobile phone while Arthur wasn't looking) from Canada later, Arthur decided that it was for the best (after weighing the pros and cons, the factor of killing each other included, but it was neigh impossible-nations couldn't die through physical harm, so it was struck off the list) if all three, together with whoever past selves they had landed with, should make their way over to his house, pronto, after enjoying a brief sense of smugness that they finally believed that magic was real (even though it was implied that they were blaming this fiasco on him) and that he was not 'a little funny in the head'. (Debatable point, Alfred had pointed it out mentally sometime ago, but wisely kept his mouth shut.)
Arthur glanced over at the silent America, who was sitting quite a distance away from him. He had calmed down somewhat, but nevertheless still suspicious of Arthur. His brief explanation that by some magical twist of fate (how very original, Arthur rolled his eyes mentally at himself as he explained it to Alfred, after spending a good thirty minutes on convincing America to put that gun down and listen. Arthur did not miss that stubborn streak at all) of America had ended up time traveling into the future was accepted at face value when Arthur showed him how the lights worked, although when America opened his mouth to try and ask, Arthur outright refused to answer or entertain him, which put off America considerably.
There were more questions, Arthur knew, far more important ones (to America, Arthur scoffed at that) than knowing that electricity was invented and that people did not have to pee in the dark any more, but he was reluctant to answer them. At least, not until the rest got here.
Meanwhile, America looked on curiously as Arthur booted up a curious looking machine. The box instantly lit up with colours to his amazement, and then the screen soon changed again into a different display. He leaned forward and craned his neck up to see what was going to happen next.
Arthur shifted and looked over his shoulder.
"You can come closer, you know." Pause. "I am not..that England you are fighting against now." Well, technically...
America flushed. "What makes you think I want to, anyway?" He averted Arthur's gaze and crossed his arms.
Arthur's lips twitched a little. He knew America well enough. "Suit yourself." Turning back, he opened up Skype (Alfred had forced him to get one during one of his visits, saying that it was more convenient for him to contact Arthur. Yeah, right. ) and added all involved recipients into one big conversation.
"What's that?"
"It's called a computer." He looked up from the screen and smirked a little. "and I thought you said you didn't want to?"
America, now beside Arthur, scowled, his ears turning red. "..I was curious."
He never changes, not one bit at all. A fond smile made a way up Arthur's face.
"Hey, what's with that creepy look on your face? It's disturbing."
Arthur smile quickly turned into a frown.
-Absolutely, that idiotic oaf never did change.
----
To clear things up, yes, they are going to all meet on skype and talk it out a little later in the chapter so Arthur doesn't have to send all his washable textiles for dry cleaning and/or have a bloodshed in his hands when they arrive. hopefully. Coming up on the next part!
Re: Both Sides of A Mirror -Let's Not Cause A Paradox PART 1A
anonymous
August 27 2010, 18:05:34 UTC
*snort* Yes, Arthur, very like you, there at the endXD
Actually, the technology clash is one of the things that interest me more about time travel fics. Unfortunately, they never dwell on that, and have the past characters shrug it off, which I find very unlikely; especially in America's case, as can be seen here.
Re: Both Sides of A Mirror -Let's Not Cause A Paradox PART 1A
anonymous
August 27 2010, 19:13:39 UTC
Author!Anon, I'm in love with this fill. I love Arthur's calm in the face of chaos and America's stubbornness. Canada being passive-aggressive is always win.
(For the sake of differentiating the past from the present, the present FACE will be referred to in their human names in narratives and the past FACE will be referred to as their country names.)
---
Prologue - 5:00AM PART A
Alfred knew, when he awoke to England straddling his waist, decked out in his full redcoat glory, a musket pointed right to his forehead and those sharp, furious eyes looking straight at him, that today was just going to be one of those days-you know, the 'I got drunk so let's drown about the past' days.
(On the bright side, he woke up early for once, but that wasn't the point now.)
"Where.the.fuck.am.I?" A push, and the nozzle was shoved straight against his forehead.
Only half awake, Alfred stifled a yawn and tried to nudge the gun nozzle away from his face. "England, as much as I think you look rather bitching hot in that getup and all, it's-" he paused and turned his head slightly towards the clock on the dresser. "-5AM. I'd really, really like to sleep some more before the both of us start having wild monkey sex in the morning. Now put that thing back and go back to sleep."
What Alfred didn't expect, was that after a splutter, followed by some kind of a noise that sounded vaguely like a word being stuck in the throat (the American was too caught up in a sleep induced haze to discern what exactly England said), England cocked his musket.
Blank or not, Alfred did not want to start a morning with an injury. He immediately yanked the musket out of England's hands before he had the time to pull the trigger and threw it to one side. England gave a yelp as he stumbled back, landing on the floor back first.
"Jesus, England! That's fucking dangerous! Are you that drunk or just that desperate!?" Alfred half yelled, fully awake by now. He reached out blindly, groping around the dresser for his glasses and the table lamp switch. The lamp lit up and Alfred pushed the frames up against his nose, irritated as he climbed out of the bed. "And what are you doing here? I thought you were-" Alfred's words died in his throat when he saw England's face. "...England? Holy shit." He immediately knelt down, grabbing the nearest available cloth (which was his blanket) and tried to mop up some of the blood on England's forehead.
"You imprudent brat, I am not falling for one of your tricks." England snarled, knocked away Alfred's hand. "We are still in the middle of fighting a damned war against each other."
Alfred felt his blood go cold.
"War?"
"Of course, you idiot. You and your need for independence." England spat out the last word bitterly.
Oh, fuck.
+++
'Your past will come back and haunt you' had literally taken up on quite a whole meaning with Arthur Kirkland.
Really, Arthur thought wryly, Fate was such a bitch sometimes. He stared at the angry teen that stood just a few feet away from the foot of his bed. The blonde donned in blue Revolutionary war outfit that obviously screamed 'I am not from this era!', that, and when he flipped on the lights, Arthur saw a decidedly younger America was glaring at him.
Arthur exhaled deeply, closing his eyes for moment before meeting his eyes with those startlingly bright blue pools.
"This is going to take some time."
---
A/N:I will post up the next part when I am more coherent. ORL for now read this kinda fail thing from this writer!anon.
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And thank you so much for the consideration you showed with your name choices; I don't think I could read it if that was unclear, and I'd hate to miss out on something that looks this damn good. And funny, judging from that first scene. <3 Poor, confused England.
And I'd ask why England hasn't noticed that Alfred appears much older than his America should, but he already suspects some kind of trick. Poor thing. And he feels America is betraying him, so I can see him believing that America was concealing magic of his own or something similar. And he's blinded by his own fear/rage/confusion, not mention that America has always been England's blind spot. :'D
... And I use run-on sentences when I'm excited; didja notice? :D
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May not be OP but I, for one, am glad to see more time travel fills. Can't wait for the next part~!
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Having said that, I can't wait to see where this goes!
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I loved the contrast between present!America and England to the other's past selves. England shows his wisdom, age and occult fanatism in his patient, long-suffering reaction to the impossible apparition, and America his lovey-dovey, idiotically adorable atittude and his youth jumping straight to sex asumptions
Can't wait for the Franada reaction, reallyXD
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Also, Anon!writer thinks that if all SFXs had different languages, it would be funny. But disregard that. On to the fic!
---
Francis' ears were still ringing.
He rubbed them gingerly, wincing a little. Did Canada have to scream that loud in his ears when he realized that he was sleeping beside a very naked Francis?
Given, it was justified (not forgiven yet, there's a difference) that the Canada sitting right across the table, fidgeting nervously in his seat (his eyes were darting from Francis to the door every now and then) was wearing clothes that did not belong to this century (Francis knew too well which century it came from) , and the young nation looked a whole lot more..innocent.
Francis immediately squashed the next mental image that came up in his brain, disturbed by his own thoughts. This was wrong-he was anything but like that English barbarian!
"-Papa?"
Francis snapped out of his reverie. Canada had leaned slightly forward, his hand curling around the edge of Francis' shirt sleeve. "Are you alright?"
He smiled and shook his head slightly. Some things still stayed the same. Francis took Matthew's hand into his and patted it lightly. "I am fine. Do you want some breakfast? I am sure you are hungry."
Canada nodded his head, a little hesitant. He was getting more confused by the minute. Francis understood why, but he had to take things slowly in order not to confuse the poor boy more. There were a couple of things he needed to do-call up Arthur and inform about this, message the other Canada (Matthew, he reminded himself-Francis was starting to hate the whole concept of time travel now) and make a trip over to London, England promptly.
However before all of that, Francis decided, having nice, quiet breakfast and assuring that Canada that it was a norm for Francis to sleep in his birthday suit and he was not attempting to deflower his ex charge topped his list of priorities at the moment.
+++
There was something out there.
Matthew's grip on the revolver became a tad tighter. Beside, Kumajirou let out small whine. He fervently prayed that it was his idiotic brother idea of a prank, because if it was a huge bear or hungry, wild animal, things were going to get just a little more complicated.
Why can't people show up normally for once, instead of going through all of this just to set up a dramatic atmosphere and all? Matthew thought, a little irate. Animals too. We might all save a few innocent lives in the process and not kill off any endangered species accidentally.
Crunch.
Matthew inhaled sharply. He turned around, gun cocked and ready to shoot. His mind was already scrambling to formulate a few back up plans in the head for whatever had shown itself.
"Matthieu?"
Okay, so maybe he was not expecting Francis.
"Francis?" He lowered his revolver, completely surprised. "What are you doing here? I thought you were busy-?" Matthew trailed off when he saw what France was wearing, and then immediately blamed Arthur when he saw France's face.
(Back in London, Arthur sneezed violently. America smirked a little.)
France, however, seemed completely oblivious to Matthew increasing distress. He strode over and enveloped the stunned Matthew in a hug. "Forgive me-" France pulled away, his voice trembling a little. "I haven't seen you for a very long time." He patted Matthew's shoulder, looking up and down in approval. "At least that uncouth Englishman had fed you well."
"Uh, yeah, sure." Matthew let out a shaky laugh while he racked his brain for any wrong doings he did to Arthur. An apology would come after that. "Listen, Francis-"
"Papa." He looked at Matthew wearily, a nostalgic look in his eyes. "Can you call me that? Just this once? "
Matthew's response was to swear extremely loudly.
--
A/N: And now the story starts for real! orz I am glad that I didn't fail and that the rest of the anons enjoyed this. >v
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orz, yes, Matthew figured out already (that Francis=not in his era) , if you are referring to that;;
If you are referring that scene where Canada turns out in Francis bedroom, then no, he he hadn't quite figured it out yet.
I hope it clears up for you!
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BEST. ENTRANCE. EVER figures it'd be France'sXD
Ok, no, the best part was when I realised he has a gun, for God's sake. He's the only one prepared for intruders! xDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
Once again, the contrast between them is great! I love that the Europeans make the jump without a problem, but even someone sensible and intelligent like Matt took his time.
eighteenth-century!France, you break my heart there at the end ;_;
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Didn't mean to shout but it's the first time a request of mine has got two fills, two brilliant fills which I adore in completely different ways (mainly because they are two completely different fills if that makes sense). The end of a week at work and I came home to this! I actually did a little happy dance. Okay hugely long comment because there's a lot to comment on.
First of all, I love America. Especially in this fill, thinking that it was some kind of roleplay thing and the things he said to England. Loved how he was all worried that England was bleeding and then responded in a rather panicked manner to the whole time travel thing which definitely contrasted to England's calm, collected manner as if time travel was some small hurdle before work.
Aw France tries to stop perverted thoughts because he doesn't want to be as perverted as England while England probably does the same thing thinking that he doesn't want to be as perverted as France.
Canada being the prepared one with a gun and back up plans was unexpected but very good. Poor past!France (I will use your idea of names during future reviews), he's so sad and regretful and wanting Canada to call him Papa.
I love how everyone thinks that England has something to do with it (does he?), I can't wait to see what happens when you get them all together (are you?).
I think I forgot to say, thank you so much for filling this and I will be watching carefully for more.
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Arthur glanced over at the silent America, who was sitting quite a distance away from him. He had calmed down somewhat, but nevertheless still suspicious of Arthur. His brief explanation that by some magical twist of fate (how very original, Arthur rolled his eyes mentally at himself as he explained it to Alfred, after spending a good thirty minutes on convincing America to put that gun down and listen. Arthur did not miss that stubborn streak at all) of America had ended up time traveling into the future was accepted at face value when Arthur showed him how the lights worked, although when America opened his mouth to try and ask, Arthur outright refused to answer or entertain him, which put off America considerably.
There were more questions, Arthur knew, far more important ones (to America, Arthur scoffed at that) than knowing that electricity was invented and that people did not have to pee in the dark any more, but he was reluctant to answer them. At least, not until the rest got here.
Meanwhile, America looked on curiously as Arthur booted up a curious looking machine. The box instantly lit up with colours to his amazement, and then the screen soon changed again into a different display. He leaned forward and craned his neck up to see what was going to happen next.
Arthur shifted and looked over his shoulder.
"You can come closer, you know." Pause. "I am not..that England you are fighting against now." Well, technically...
America flushed. "What makes you think I want to, anyway?" He averted Arthur's gaze and crossed his arms.
Arthur's lips twitched a little. He knew America well enough. "Suit yourself." Turning back, he opened up Skype (Alfred had forced him to get one during one of his visits, saying that it was more convenient for him to contact Arthur. Yeah, right. ) and added all involved recipients into one big conversation.
"What's that?"
"It's called a computer." He looked up from the screen and smirked a little. "and I thought you said you didn't want to?"
America, now beside Arthur, scowled, his ears turning red. "..I was curious."
He never changes, not one bit at all. A fond smile made a way up Arthur's face.
"Hey, what's with that creepy look on your face? It's disturbing."
Arthur smile quickly turned into a frown.
-Absolutely, that idiotic oaf never did change.
----
To clear things up, yes, they are going to all meet on skype and talk it out a little later in the chapter so Arthur doesn't have to send all his washable textiles for dry cleaning and/or have a bloodshed in his hands when they arrive. hopefully. Coming up on the next part!
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Actually, the technology clash is one of the things that interest me more about time travel fics. Unfortunately, they never dwell on that, and have the past characters shrug it off, which I find very unlikely; especially in America's case, as can be seen here.
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