KHR/Hetalia Crossover/Fusion: A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand
anonymous
October 23 2010, 02:57:58 UTC
The basic premise: KHR meets Hetalia and fuses in an altogether unholy way. Featuring the infamous Vargas family and fairly newly instated Vargas Decimo (baptized as Feliciano Vargas), with his six Guardians. The guardians include:
Arthur Kirkland: Storm Guardian, surly, chainsmoking, possibly alcoholic, hitman and spy
Alfred F. Jones: Lightning Guardian, good-natured, overly excitable Family hacker and gunsmith
Ivan Braginsky: Cloud Guardian, …does whatever he feels like doing while being terrifyingly dedicated
Honda Kiku: Rain Guardian, accountant, personal assistant and in all aspects, very useful and very polite
Francis Bonnefay: Sun Guardian, classified as the “medic” but generally only sought in the most desperate of cases
Wang Yao: Mist Guardian, androgynous illusionist with a peculiar affinity for panda dolls
And newly instated: Ludwig (officially Ludwig Edelstein), Vargas Decimo’s Second and Outside Advisor, a confused, competent and mostly sane man dragged into the mafia world.
The new premise: Basically, “A Sky to Hold Them - Second” detailed Ludwig’s childhood, adolescence, and his subsequent immersion into the mafia world, culminating in his acceptance of his new job. This new story arc will cover Ludwig’s exploration of the mafia world and his development as Feliciano’s right hand man and Second.
A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand [1a/?]
anonymous
October 23 2010, 02:59:43 UTC
The “practice room” was really an ancient ballroom. Ludwig noted that certain areas were rather newer than others, namely the windows. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant or ancient; he could quite easily see Roderich here, perhaps playing his beloved Chopin on a grand piano or playing a single violin sonatina in a rare moment of whimsy. However, the room had an air of- disturbance, as if more than dancing occurred here.
Arthur was there, stubbing out a cigarette in an ancient cut crystal bowl. It never would cease to astonish Ludwig, how careless the Englishman seemed about the staggeringly beautiful luxury of the mansion. Yao was there too, no longer in the gown but in one of those long sleeved, high necked oriental jackets made of quilted red cotton trimmed with gold ribbon. A panda doll was cradled possessively in the arms draped in long sleeves.
“Catch.”
Ludwig raised his hand in time to grab the glass bottle that came flying from Arthur’s direction. He examined it. It was an old-fashioned clear pill bottle filled to the brim with white spherical tablets.
“Take one,” said Arthur, arms crossed across his skinny chest. “And just one, mind you.”
“What is it?”
Arthur grinned widely, an altogether too disquieting sort of expression, his eyes glittering with wicked mirth. “Take one and see for yourself.”
Ludwig paused, especially as he caught the- calculating expression on Yao’s face. The Chinese had a slightly befuddled air of good-natured alertness, mouth curving in a faint smile, but the bright yellow eyes told a completely different story.
But Feliciano trusted these two implicitly; it showed. As many faults as the small Italian had (at least, as Ludwig thought), the Italian was far from a poor judge of character… Ludwig hoped. He gritted his teeth, opened the bottle and rolled out a tablet. It gleamed faintly in the light with a pearly sheen that did not belong on medication. After closing the bottle, Ludwig picked up the tablet and with only slight hesitation, swallowed it.
His vision went dark immediately. The pain jolted into him, slammed into him like a runaway truck. Dimly, he might have known that his name was Ludwig, a German citizen, the adopted son of Erzebet and Roderich Edelstein. But the sudden flaring pain in his skull, spreading out like a flower from his crown, blocked almost all thoughts. There was only the pain and it was all that defined him for seconds that stretched into eternity. He didn’t want to die but he thought he was going to die and he panicked because how could he die, when he had so much left to do? Absurdly, he thought of his promised calls to Erzebet, the bills he still had to pay- He had work to do. Dying at this moment was the worst possible thing that could happen.
And then, suddenly, the pain was gone.
He opened eyes that had never shut and he looked down at his hands. Across every digit, framing every bone and even seeming to just spark from underneath his skin, was bright blue fire. It flickered almost rhythmically, in a way that reminded him of ripples across a pond’s surface. Ludwig held up his burning right hand and wondered at it for the first time in his life.
“Figures, Rain,” Arthur grunted.
“What- is this?” demanded Ludwig. And yet, he felt utterly calm, utterly composed. The pain had vanished almost instantaneously and he was instead full of a peace he hadn’t known was possible. His hand was on fire and he couldn’t be bothered about it.
“Dying Will Flame,” Arthur said succinctly. “Your will to live based on your regrets in life.”
“Ah.” Ludwig considered the flames and they flared high for a single moment before fading into his skin and leaving no trace of their existence.
Yao spoke in English so strongly accented that it may have been a foreign language to Ludwig. Arthur seemed to understand perfectly, however, and he tilted his head to the side. “Right. Write it up and I’ll look at it later.”
A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand [1b/?]
anonymous
October 23 2010, 03:04:59 UTC
Yao scowled and made a clearly peeved retort. At this point, Ludwig wasn’t quite sure whether the Asian was male or female and couldn’t bring himself to ask. The strange serenity hadn’t entirely disappeared though real emotion, unpleasant emotion, was starting to trickle back into his brain.
Arthur rolled his eyes heavenward. “Make the damned formula then. And I’ll make my own.”
Yao’s reply included a sniping parting shot that made the Englishman scowl as well. “You know very well that it was a bloody accident and the boils did go away.”
Yao flapped a sleeve covered hand in derisive humor and, with a slight bow to Ludwig, left the room.
“So… this flame. It’s made of regrets?” Ludwig asked carefully. He slowly moved his fingers this way and that, curling and relaxing each joint as he wondered at them. His skin didn’t feel particularly warm or cold, no peculiar tingling or itchiness.
“Specifically the regrets before you die. Nothing can be stronger than that.” He smiled one of those crooked grins that seemed to be the paragon of cynicism.
Roderich’s words came to mind. Ludwig paused, the eerie calm from the flames fading until he wasn’t even sure he had felt it. It was almost like a dream that faded faster the more he wanted to remember. “I would rather not die with regrets,” he said very carefully.
Arthur pulled out a silver cigarette case from his trouser pocket. He extracted one delicately, gave Ludwig a cursory examination before closing the box. His thumb flicked along the side of the silver case and a flame leapt to life. He slipped the cigarette between his lips and bent his head so that the flame touched the cigarette’s end.
“Don’t give me that bullshit about dying with no regrets. We all have regrets. We all have things that we wish that we could do, could have done. No one is ever prepared to die.” He grinned slowly, cigarette clenched in his yellowed teeth. “Regrets are all over you, kraut. It’s in your soul.”
Ludwig counted down from ten, knowing that it was not polite and in any case, would come to nothing, to jump and beat the ever loving shit out of the smirking Englishman. “Regrets mean nothing,” he said stiffly.
Arthur exhaled a long stream of smoke through his nostrils. The stench of the burning tobacco burned Ludwig’s nose clean, even from several feet. “If you didn’t have regrets, I would have had to haul your damned corpse out of this room,” he said. “And that would have been a bitch to do with your size.”
Thought screeched to a halt in Ludwig’s brain. “What?”
Arthur looked far too nonchalant as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth. “How else can we know how strong your will to live is?” he asked with mock-cheer, smoke slipping from his lips and between his teeth. “Without nearly killing you?”
(ooc: Yes, Arthur is a complete and utter asshole. But you can’t call him unperceptive.
The way the pills work is just based on my personal theory about how they help a Dying Will Flame manifest. Arthur is a pretty decent chemist, actually, when he’s not impersonating police officers or being a racist, xenophobic bastard.)
Re: A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand [1b/?]
anonymous
October 23 2010, 04:21:13 UTC
Ok. When I saw this, I jumped so happily in joy that my laptop fell off my lap and crashed to the floor. And I had to restart it.
...That's just how much I love this. Your snarky Arthur, your mysteriously Engrish-speaking Yao, your befuddled Ludwig--this was perfect. Oh, I don't have any more words to describe the sheer awesome that is this trio of fics.
Re: A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand [1b/?]
anonymous
October 23 2010, 05:54:48 UTC
I need to take a deep breath.
ZOMG MORE of A Sky to Hold Them!!!
I absolutely LOVED your fill, from the snippets of the guardians (Ivan's in particular, was so heart breakingly beautiful) to Second (Ludwig handling a gun? Actually assembling a gun? That's some kink material for me) I can practically picture Francis' dress suit and high heels... ZOMG my brain. And Erzebet being militant? Priceless. I love how she is at once domesticated (if such word can EVER apply to her) and still is the same fierce soldier.
Wait, I am just reading your new intro to the AU, LOVE them character profile! Kiku as an accountant? Hmmm, so much potential. Ludwig is only sane in a relative sense to the rest of the gang, I mean, SANITY IS OVERRATED when you can spontaneously manifest flames off your body at will, who cares about sanity? Seriously.
And this? This is perfect, I can't wait to read more! Please please please do continue! Sending you a heck of a lot of my love ♥
A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand [2a/?]
anonymous
October 24 2010, 18:35:57 UTC
The slim Japanese man (Kiku, Ludwig reminded himself) smiled very slightly. It was early evening and they were in Kiku’s suite. Somehow, it had been decorated with all the accoutrements of Japan, with wall scrolls, a simple vase filled with painstakingly arranged chrysanthemum blossoms, and bamboo mats covering the hardwood floor. The room was rather comfortable in the Spartan simplicity, though Ludwig had a faint nagging feeling that he might just end up disturbing Zen harmony without realizing it.
“Do you take tea?” Kiku asked in his very careful Italian. It was strongly accented but he spoke slowly and clearly enough to be understood.
“If it isn’t any trouble.”
“Not at all.” The small man bustled around the suite’s parlor, brewing tea and pouring out the bitter, astringent scented liquid into a pair of cylindrical cups.
Ludwig negotiated his legs into a kneeling position after seeing Kiku do the same. The other man wore a pearl gray suit, as expensive as anything Ludwig had seen the other “family” members wore. Clearly custom fitted and tailored, as it fit the man perfectly and seemed to make movements as unrestricted as possible.
“Thank you,” Ludwig said as he took the tea and clumsily imitated Kiku’s precise hold upon the cup, one hand curled around it and one hand supporting the base.
Kiku kept that faint smile. It might have been just a little condescending and certainly it would swiftly become grating. However, for the moment… he only looked perfectly polite, not too overbearing nor too aloof.
“Please make yourself comfortable,” he said.
Ludwig tried a cautious sip of the tea, which was actually rather good, as his prior experience to tea was Roderich’s black tea blends. The bitterness was very different from coffee, cleaner. They sat in silence, Kiku looking almost as serene as the bronze statuette of a god (or possibly spiritual figure) set up on a small shrine nearby and Ludwig feeling just faintly uncomfortable.
After possibly a few minutes of this, at least until they had both finished their tea, Ludwig spoke. “You are supposed to be teaching me?” he asked, keeping his own shaky Italian slow and careful.
“Yes.”
“What exactly?”
“How to control the Flame.” Kiku set down his cup at last. He turned over his right hand, palm upwards. Blue flames came to life, surrounding his fingers. However… these flames were deep blue.
“Arthur called them Rain Flames.”
Kiku nodded. “Of the Rain. This is the Flame of Tranquility. It slows and calms.” He had to pause to mull over his next few words, brow furrowing just a little. “It stops things.”
“Fire can do that?”
Kiku’s mouth twitched a little. “Not really fire,” he said. “Just… easier to think of as fire. It is energy.”
“Ah.” So it was rather Zen, all in all.
Kiku turned his hand over and the Flame flickered and died, leaving only a pale, small hand. He paused and then extended it with a bow.
“I am glad to be your teacher in this, Lu- Signor Ludwig,” he said.
Ludwig took the proffered hand and shook it. “Just Ludwig is fine,” he replied “Is it Honda or Kiku?”
“Whatever most convenient,” the small man demurred, pulling his hand away. He pushed over a small glass pill bottle filled with very familiar white tablets. “Please take one and we can begin.”
Ludwig eyed the bottle with barely concealed wariness. Kiku said softly, “Do not worry. The first time is always… bad.”
A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand [2b/?]
anonymous
October 24 2010, 18:37:48 UTC
Ludwig opened the bottle, a little irked at having his own trepidation pointed out to him, and rolled out a single pill. He swallowed it and waited for the sledgehammer jolt of pain.
Instead, he only felt an uncomfortable pressure at his temples, a pounding rhythm that made him grit his teeth (which only made the pressure worse. He relaxed his jaw as best he could. Then he felt his skin contract, as if a cool, damp wind had raked across his arms. Ludwig felt the strange, peculiar calm fill him again and he could watch dispassionately at the blue fire flickering across his fingers.
“How do I control it then?” Ludwig asked, not particularly expecting an answer. “What is this for?”
The Japanese man tilted his head ever so slightly. “Well, depends on what you need.” He lifted his hand and blue flames flickered upwards.
Even as the tongues of fire licked up, they shuddered and shivered, looking peculiarly like sheets of water, the front of a smooth waterfall marked by rainfall.
“Think of your regret,” Kiku said, his voice pleasant and low. He wasn’t smiling serenely and just a little oddly but his face lacked the- tautness of most people’s. The sky could fall through the ceiling and he would barely bat an eye.
“Regret?”
“That is what feeds the Flame. Regret. Refusal to-” Here, Kiku hesitated, clearly groping for the right words. “To die. To leave business.”
“Fear?” Ludwig asked with just a shade of distaste. The flames on his own fingers fluttered erratically, as if a strong breeze had swept through the room.
Kiku did smile faintly now. “Fear is not bad. Fear of death is only natural, no?”
The thought that he had work to do warred with the thought that death was implacable, unable to be petitioned or halted for very long. It wasn’t that he was frightened of death, no more than any other person. But even the very idea of inevitability struck through the suddenly false, suddenly fragile calm that had filled his skull. With a final flutter, the flames on Ludwig’s hands faded.
“Try again, please,” said Kiku, with no sign of disappointment or disregard.
(ooc: Ludwig’s somewhat troubled (brief) meditations on death: remember he grew up in a very rough world. Death was pretty much an inevitability, he learned quickly. That’s the kind of thing that sticks to a person, even if his memory is pretty awful in other aspects.
Language: Pretty much everyone speaks Italian with each other. Ludwig got the immersion approach, the cultural equivalent of throwing someone in the deep end of the pool to see if they sink or swim. So his Italian is passable. The exceptions to the rule are Arthur’s conversations with Ludwig (which are in German) and Arthur’s… interactions with Yao, which I will get into further in the future.
Also… The storyline is going to seem a little- disjointed. It’ll be going along in a fairly linear progression but I’m writing this as a series of scenes more than anything else.)
Re: A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand [2b/?]
anonymous
October 24 2010, 21:21:37 UTC
your kiku. so lovely. it's hard to find kiku with a personality--it's really hard, that's my opinion, and you really did such a good job. he's so polite, so unobtrusive...really mysterious, i think. please keep writing!
not OP, but definitely a fan/follower
anonymous
October 25 2010, 05:38:20 UTC
Yay, an update!
I love the introspection and subdueness (is that a word?) in your narrative in general, and how it is influenced by the characters. For the most part, so controlled and entirely too much fun to read. Can't wait for Ludwig's interaction with the other Guardians (hmmmm, wonder how it would be like between him and Ivan?) Would Ludwig ever find out Feliciano is Feli in his memory?! Oh, the suspense, the suspense!
reCaptcha says "fantess CHAPTER" - is that a sign?!
Re: A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand [2b/?]
anonymous
October 25 2010, 10:42:28 UTC
...you know, when I saw this in the Fills list, I screamed. :D But now allow me to offer you a less embarrassing "thank you very much for continuing this!"
A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand [3a/?]
anonymous
October 28 2010, 18:46:51 UTC
“You’re going to need a weapon, Ludwig,” said Feliciano over a mid-morning break of coffee and biscotti.
The German, who had gotten slotted into the complex inner workings of the palatial mansion far too easily for comfort, blinked several times. Surprisingly, it was the paperwork that made things- easier. He had gotten swept to suit fittings, shoe fittings. Someone had been around to cut and style his hair and even fit him with a new pair of reading glasses. But the paperwork made things simpler. He could settle on the ancient and probably priceless desk he had been given and reduce the world to comparing documents and line upon line of numbers of innumerable accounts and transactions.
“A weapon?” he echoed.
Feliciano nodded almost resolutely. “Yes. Something that suits you,” he said.
“I don’t need one-” Ludwig began before the small Italian flapped a hand.
“You can meet Alfred too,” he said. “He just came in. I think you’ll like him.”
“Alfred” was a tall blonde man who looked barely out of his teens. He had a shock of bright gold hair, brilliantly blue eyes and thin silver framed glasses. Unlike the others (except for Yao), he didn’t wear a suit, opting for blue jeans and a ripped, ancient t-shirt that had seen much better days. In other words, he seemed to embody the very film image of an American boy, without any irony or self-consciousness.
Both of them were currently in a well-lit workshop filled from floor to ceiling with shelves of various mechanical parts. Dead engines with rusted propellers jostled with cracked computer screens on the precariously balanced racks. There was a smell of dust in the air as well as hot metal and oil. Someone did a lot of welding and smelting, noted a part of Ludwig’s memory. The pipe covered ceiling had fleets of model airplanes and colonies of plastic dinosaurs congregated on various tables.
“Alfred F. Jones,” said the boy (Ludwig couldn’t dub him anything else now). He stuck out a wide, knuckled hand smeared with charcoal dust and possibly engine grease.
Ludwig took it and received a very enthusiastic handshake that was just a little too tight in grip. “Ludwig Ed-” he began. “Just Ludwig.”
“So you’re the one doing the paperwork,” said Alfred far too cheerfully. His Italian was better than Arthur’s but he seemed to take a blithe pleasure mangling pronunciation every so often. It wasn’t a malicious sort of trait, just childish. “Thanks for that, by the way. It’s awesome not having to do it now. And besides, we’re killing trees and all that.”
He peered at Ludwig through his glasses. “Arthur told me that you like to use a Walther PPK. Double action. Not too surprised, I guess. Since you’re German. Right? Or was it Australian?”
“Austrian by citizenship,” Ludwig replied a little stiffly. “…German by birth.”
“How do you feel about shotguns?” asked Alfred, with a sudden glint in his eyes that had nothing to do with his lenses and the cold bright light of the fluorescent lamps everywhere.
“Excuse me?”
“Shotguns. I have one in the back and no one wants to use it. Because they’re wusses like that.” The other blond lapsed into English for a moment and Ludwig only got the slightest gist of the last statement.
“I’m not sure if I even need-” began Ludwig.
“-It’s just AWESOME but boss won’t let me carry it around because it freaks him out,” said Alfred as part of a greater litany.
Ludwig found a headache already pounding in merry symphony between his temples and he found himself touching his ear as a strange tinny echo began to bounce and rebound around near his eardrum. He tried to listen to the boy as best he could because it wasn’t polite to be like this.
“-so you can carry it and I’ll borrow it a lot and Boss isn’t going to be too freaked out about it-” continued Alfred.
Ludwig closed his eyes tightly for a moment and the headache only intensified. It hadn’t lost any strength with each rebound, as every echo built on top of one another.
A Sky to Hold Them – The Right Hand [3b/?]
anonymous
October 28 2010, 18:49:05 UTC
Ludwig looked at his hand. It was surrounded in Flame. Quite a lot of it. The brilliant blue made the shadows eerie and faint, warring and overwhelming the white fluorescent light in the workshop. He took in a deep breath and felt his headache not quite ease but become very manageable. It was there, yes, but he wasn’t bothered particularly by it.
“Holy shit- that’s the biggest damn Rain Flame I’ve ever seen, I didn’t even know that they got that big!”
If the Rain was for Tranquility, why couldn’t be some of that around here? The thought came naturally but it didn’t have any of the irritation or rancor that should have accompanied such a sentiment. Instead, Ludwig continued to observe the Flame with dispassionate interest.
By this time, Alfred had picked up a video camera and was circling around Ludwig excitedly. “Fuck, that’s amazing!”
Ludwig deigned to look into the camera, if only to give the boy a Look. Then he gritted his teeth. The headache was building and the dispassionate knowledge couldn’t keep it away any more. Ludwig clenched his fist and felt the Flame disappear, only to leave a pounding pain that cast a haze over his vision and a sudden wave of nausea. He swayed on his feet and gripped the edge of a table.
The next thing he knew, he was sitting in a fragile, rusty chair with his head between his knees. Arthur and Kiku were there, watching him.
“Well then,” said Arthur in deliberately coarse German. “Isn’t this interesting?”
Alfred said, “Hey, could you do that again? Just keep it up a little longer?”
(ooc: -Ludwig wears glasses, if I haven’t clarified before. He’s a bit farsighted so he needs glasses if he’s going to be reading for an extended period of time. It has nothing to do with the fact that I think glasses are a sexy, sexy accessory.
-I based Alfred a bit on Wash from Firefly. He’s the Family hacker and gunsmith; actually, the first is what he was first hired for. Once in a while, he gets sent on negotiations to distract people with his puppy dog charm and his amazing… charisma. It’s also amazing what people will tell a “stupid foreigner”, too, as both he and Feliciano have learned. He also speaks perfectly fluent Italian, if he feels like it, and he’s been picking up Japanese from Kiku.
-Alfred is exaggerating about the shotgun. Sort of.)
anon does happy update dance~
anonymous
October 28 2010, 21:07:05 UTC
My love for this particular passage is beyond my command of words:
The German, who had gotten slotted into the complex inner workings of the palatial mansion far too easily for comfort, blinked several times. Surprisingly, it was the paperwork that made things- easier. He had gotten swept to suit fittings, shoe fittings. Someone had been around to cut and style his hair and even fit him with a new pair of reading glasses. But the paperwork made things simpler. He could settle on the ancient and probably priceless desk he had been given and reduce the world to comparing documents and line upon line of numbers of innumerable accounts and transactions.
So cinematic! Oh I adore, absolutely adore your writing style.
Lovely, lovely Alfred! Why so cute? I think it's also not-so-strangely fitting that you based him on Wash. That made me dance extra happily for the meta-mention of Firefly! And glasses is so totally a sexy accessory, particularly on Ludwig. *shot*
Off topic: Could being far sighted makes Ludwig a good/better marksman than he otherwise would be? No, this is totally irrelevant I know, just a random thought.
Now that you mentioned weaponry, I am curious what weapon each of them uses (Feliciano uses a handgun of sorts, usually tucked away in a briefcase, Kiku uses the sword, iirc from previous parts) Tell me MORE!
Author-anon
anonymous
October 28 2010, 22:47:59 UTC
Thank you. /blush
Alfred strikes me as the Wash-type. Including acting out things using his plastic dinosaur collection when he's bored. "Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!"
Ludwig is a decent marksman, definitely better than average. It might be due to his farsightedness, it might not. :D He's a good shot and to be honest, a shotgun wouldn't be a bad weapon for him; he's certainly strong enough to handle the recoil without any trouble.
I'll go into weaponry later, especially when Ludwig meets everyone else.
Same anon as above
anonymous
October 29 2010, 00:44:24 UTC
Shotgun definitely would work well with Ludwig's physique - the Walther PPK might be on the tiny side in his hand (me = all about the visual and not the practicality, you see) but one thing that concerns me about shotgun is that it is a relatively slower weapon - the recoil is one thing, how about the reload???
Then again, Ludwig handling a shotgun brought up fond memories of Biohazard/Resident Evil. Hmmm~ I can't wait!!! And if you would explain this episode of spontaneous "Fire up" that would be awesome~
KHR meets Hetalia and fuses in an altogether unholy way. Featuring the infamous Vargas family and fairly newly instated Vargas Decimo (baptized as Feliciano Vargas), with his six Guardians. The guardians include:
Arthur Kirkland: Storm Guardian, surly, chainsmoking, possibly alcoholic, hitman and spy
Alfred F. Jones: Lightning Guardian, good-natured, overly excitable Family hacker and gunsmith
Ivan Braginsky: Cloud Guardian, …does whatever he feels like doing while being terrifyingly dedicated
Honda Kiku: Rain Guardian, accountant, personal assistant and in all aspects, very useful and very polite
Francis Bonnefay: Sun Guardian, classified as the “medic” but generally only sought in the most desperate of cases
Wang Yao: Mist Guardian, androgynous illusionist with a peculiar affinity for panda dolls
And newly instated:
Ludwig (officially Ludwig Edelstein), Vargas Decimo’s Second and Outside Advisor, a confused, competent and mostly sane man dragged into the mafia world.
Previous Parts:
Famiglia, A Sky to Hold Them, A Sky to Hold Them: Second (Part 1): http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/11813.html?thread=30352933#t30352933
A Sky to Hold Them: Second (Part 2): http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/15769.html?thread=39947673#t39947673
The new premise:
Basically, “A Sky to Hold Them - Second” detailed Ludwig’s childhood, adolescence, and his subsequent immersion into the mafia world, culminating in his acceptance of his new job. This new story arc will cover Ludwig’s exploration of the mafia world and his development as Feliciano’s right hand man and Second.
…I hope that wasn’t too much information.
Reply
Arthur was there, stubbing out a cigarette in an ancient cut crystal bowl. It never would cease to astonish Ludwig, how careless the Englishman seemed about the staggeringly beautiful luxury of the mansion. Yao was there too, no longer in the gown but in one of those long sleeved, high necked oriental jackets made of quilted red cotton trimmed with gold ribbon. A panda doll was cradled possessively in the arms draped in long sleeves.
“Catch.”
Ludwig raised his hand in time to grab the glass bottle that came flying from Arthur’s direction. He examined it. It was an old-fashioned clear pill bottle filled to the brim with white spherical tablets.
“Take one,” said Arthur, arms crossed across his skinny chest. “And just one, mind you.”
“What is it?”
Arthur grinned widely, an altogether too disquieting sort of expression, his eyes glittering with wicked mirth. “Take one and see for yourself.”
Ludwig paused, especially as he caught the- calculating expression on Yao’s face. The Chinese had a slightly befuddled air of good-natured alertness, mouth curving in a faint smile, but the bright yellow eyes told a completely different story.
But Feliciano trusted these two implicitly; it showed. As many faults as the small Italian had (at least, as Ludwig thought), the Italian was far from a poor judge of character… Ludwig hoped. He gritted his teeth, opened the bottle and rolled out a tablet. It gleamed faintly in the light with a pearly sheen that did not belong on medication. After closing the bottle, Ludwig picked up the tablet and with only slight hesitation, swallowed it.
His vision went dark immediately. The pain jolted into him, slammed into him like a runaway truck. Dimly, he might have known that his name was Ludwig, a German citizen, the adopted son of Erzebet and Roderich Edelstein. But the sudden flaring pain in his skull, spreading out like a flower from his crown, blocked almost all thoughts. There was only the pain and it was all that defined him for seconds that stretched into eternity. He didn’t want to die but he thought he was going to die and he panicked because how could he die, when he had so much left to do? Absurdly, he thought of his promised calls to Erzebet, the bills he still had to pay- He had work to do. Dying at this moment was the worst possible thing that could happen.
And then, suddenly, the pain was gone.
He opened eyes that had never shut and he looked down at his hands. Across every digit, framing every bone and even seeming to just spark from underneath his skin, was bright blue fire. It flickered almost rhythmically, in a way that reminded him of ripples across a pond’s surface. Ludwig held up his burning right hand and wondered at it for the first time in his life.
“Figures, Rain,” Arthur grunted.
“What- is this?” demanded Ludwig. And yet, he felt utterly calm, utterly composed. The pain had vanished almost instantaneously and he was instead full of a peace he hadn’t known was possible. His hand was on fire and he couldn’t be bothered about it.
“Dying Will Flame,” Arthur said succinctly. “Your will to live based on your regrets in life.”
“Ah.” Ludwig considered the flames and they flared high for a single moment before fading into his skin and leaving no trace of their existence.
Yao spoke in English so strongly accented that it may have been a foreign language to Ludwig. Arthur seemed to understand perfectly, however, and he tilted his head to the side. “Right. Write it up and I’ll look at it later.”
Reply
Arthur rolled his eyes heavenward. “Make the damned formula then. And I’ll make my own.”
Yao’s reply included a sniping parting shot that made the Englishman scowl as well. “You know very well that it was a bloody accident and the boils did go away.”
Yao flapped a sleeve covered hand in derisive humor and, with a slight bow to Ludwig, left the room.
“So… this flame. It’s made of regrets?” Ludwig asked carefully. He slowly moved his fingers this way and that, curling and relaxing each joint as he wondered at them. His skin didn’t feel particularly warm or cold, no peculiar tingling or itchiness.
“Specifically the regrets before you die. Nothing can be stronger than that.” He smiled one of those crooked grins that seemed to be the paragon of cynicism.
Roderich’s words came to mind. Ludwig paused, the eerie calm from the flames fading until he wasn’t even sure he had felt it. It was almost like a dream that faded faster the more he wanted to remember. “I would rather not die with regrets,” he said very carefully.
Arthur pulled out a silver cigarette case from his trouser pocket. He extracted one delicately, gave Ludwig a cursory examination before closing the box. His thumb flicked along the side of the silver case and a flame leapt to life. He slipped the cigarette between his lips and bent his head so that the flame touched the cigarette’s end.
“Don’t give me that bullshit about dying with no regrets. We all have regrets. We all have things that we wish that we could do, could have done. No one is ever prepared to die.” He grinned slowly, cigarette clenched in his yellowed teeth. “Regrets are all over you, kraut. It’s in your soul.”
Ludwig counted down from ten, knowing that it was not polite and in any case, would come to nothing, to jump and beat the ever loving shit out of the smirking Englishman. “Regrets mean nothing,” he said stiffly.
Arthur exhaled a long stream of smoke through his nostrils. The stench of the burning tobacco burned Ludwig’s nose clean, even from several feet. “If you didn’t have regrets, I would have had to haul your damned corpse out of this room,” he said. “And that would have been a bitch to do with your size.”
Thought screeched to a halt in Ludwig’s brain. “What?”
Arthur looked far too nonchalant as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth. “How else can we know how strong your will to live is?” he asked with mock-cheer, smoke slipping from his lips and between his teeth. “Without nearly killing you?”
(ooc: Yes, Arthur is a complete and utter asshole. But you can’t call him unperceptive.
The way the pills work is just based on my personal theory about how they help a Dying Will Flame manifest. Arthur is a pretty decent chemist, actually, when he’s not impersonating police officers or being a racist, xenophobic bastard.)
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...That's just how much I love this. Your snarky Arthur, your mysteriously Engrish-speaking Yao, your befuddled Ludwig--this was perfect. Oh, I don't have any more words to describe the sheer awesome that is this trio of fics.
Please, PLEASE continue.
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ZOMG MORE of A Sky to Hold Them!!!
I absolutely LOVED your fill, from the snippets of the guardians (Ivan's in particular, was so heart breakingly beautiful) to Second (Ludwig handling a gun? Actually assembling a gun? That's some kink material for me) I can practically picture Francis' dress suit and high heels... ZOMG my brain. And Erzebet being militant? Priceless. I love how she is at once domesticated (if such word can EVER apply to her) and still is the same fierce soldier.
Wait, I am just reading your new intro to the AU, LOVE them character profile! Kiku as an accountant? Hmmm, so much potential. Ludwig is only sane in a relative sense to the rest of the gang, I mean, SANITY IS OVERRATED when you can spontaneously manifest flames off your body at will, who cares about sanity? Seriously.
And this? This is perfect, I can't wait to read more! Please please please do continue! Sending you a heck of a lot of my love ♥
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Thank you for this wonderful continuation, Anon!
And..pfft, poor Ludwig...
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“Do you take tea?” Kiku asked in his very careful Italian. It was strongly accented but he spoke slowly and clearly enough to be understood.
“If it isn’t any trouble.”
“Not at all.” The small man bustled around the suite’s parlor, brewing tea and pouring out the bitter, astringent scented liquid into a pair of cylindrical cups.
Ludwig negotiated his legs into a kneeling position after seeing Kiku do the same. The other man wore a pearl gray suit, as expensive as anything Ludwig had seen the other “family” members wore. Clearly custom fitted and tailored, as it fit the man perfectly and seemed to make movements as unrestricted as possible.
“Thank you,” Ludwig said as he took the tea and clumsily imitated Kiku’s precise hold upon the cup, one hand curled around it and one hand supporting the base.
Kiku kept that faint smile. It might have been just a little condescending and certainly it would swiftly become grating. However, for the moment… he only looked perfectly polite, not too overbearing nor too aloof.
“Please make yourself comfortable,” he said.
Ludwig tried a cautious sip of the tea, which was actually rather good, as his prior experience to tea was Roderich’s black tea blends. The bitterness was very different from coffee, cleaner. They sat in silence, Kiku looking almost as serene as the bronze statuette of a god (or possibly spiritual figure) set up on a small shrine nearby and Ludwig feeling just faintly uncomfortable.
After possibly a few minutes of this, at least until they had both finished their tea, Ludwig spoke. “You are supposed to be teaching me?” he asked, keeping his own shaky Italian slow and careful.
“Yes.”
“What exactly?”
“How to control the Flame.” Kiku set down his cup at last. He turned over his right hand, palm upwards. Blue flames came to life, surrounding his fingers. However… these flames were deep blue.
“Arthur called them Rain Flames.”
Kiku nodded. “Of the Rain. This is the Flame of Tranquility. It slows and calms.” He had to pause to mull over his next few words, brow furrowing just a little. “It stops things.”
“Fire can do that?”
Kiku’s mouth twitched a little. “Not really fire,” he said. “Just… easier to think of as fire. It is energy.”
“Ah.” So it was rather Zen, all in all.
Kiku turned his hand over and the Flame flickered and died, leaving only a pale, small hand. He paused and then extended it with a bow.
“I am glad to be your teacher in this, Lu- Signor Ludwig,” he said.
Ludwig took the proffered hand and shook it. “Just Ludwig is fine,” he replied “Is it Honda or Kiku?”
“Whatever most convenient,” the small man demurred, pulling his hand away. He pushed over a small glass pill bottle filled with very familiar white tablets. “Please take one and we can begin.”
Ludwig eyed the bottle with barely concealed wariness. Kiku said softly, “Do not worry. The first time is always… bad.”
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Instead, he only felt an uncomfortable pressure at his temples, a pounding rhythm that made him grit his teeth (which only made the pressure worse. He relaxed his jaw as best he could. Then he felt his skin contract, as if a cool, damp wind had raked across his arms. Ludwig felt the strange, peculiar calm fill him again and he could watch dispassionately at the blue fire flickering across his fingers.
“How do I control it then?” Ludwig asked, not particularly expecting an answer. “What is this for?”
The Japanese man tilted his head ever so slightly. “Well, depends on what you need.” He lifted his hand and blue flames flickered upwards.
Even as the tongues of fire licked up, they shuddered and shivered, looking peculiarly like sheets of water, the front of a smooth waterfall marked by rainfall.
“Think of your regret,” Kiku said, his voice pleasant and low. He wasn’t smiling serenely and just a little oddly but his face lacked the- tautness of most people’s. The sky could fall through the ceiling and he would barely bat an eye.
“Regret?”
“That is what feeds the Flame. Regret. Refusal to-” Here, Kiku hesitated, clearly groping for the right words. “To die. To leave business.”
“Fear?” Ludwig asked with just a shade of distaste. The flames on his own fingers fluttered erratically, as if a strong breeze had swept through the room.
Kiku did smile faintly now. “Fear is not bad. Fear of death is only natural, no?”
The thought that he had work to do warred with the thought that death was implacable, unable to be petitioned or halted for very long. It wasn’t that he was frightened of death, no more than any other person. But even the very idea of inevitability struck through the suddenly false, suddenly fragile calm that had filled his skull. With a final flutter, the flames on Ludwig’s hands faded.
“Try again, please,” said Kiku, with no sign of disappointment or disregard.
(ooc:
Ludwig’s somewhat troubled (brief) meditations on death: remember he grew up in a very rough world. Death was pretty much an inevitability, he learned quickly. That’s the kind of thing that sticks to a person, even if his memory is pretty awful in other aspects.
Language: Pretty much everyone speaks Italian with each other. Ludwig got the immersion approach, the cultural equivalent of throwing someone in the deep end of the pool to see if they sink or swim. So his Italian is passable. The exceptions to the rule are Arthur’s conversations with Ludwig (which are in German) and Arthur’s… interactions with Yao, which I will get into further in the future.
Also… The storyline is going to seem a little- disjointed. It’ll be going along in a fairly linear progression but I’m writing this as a series of scenes more than anything else.)
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it's hard to find kiku with a personality--it's really hard, that's my opinion, and you really did such a good job. he's so polite, so unobtrusive...really mysterious, i think.
please keep writing!
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I love the introspection and subdueness (is that a word?) in your narrative in general, and how it is influenced by the characters. For the most part, so controlled and entirely too much fun to read. Can't wait for Ludwig's interaction with the other Guardians (hmmmm, wonder how it would be like between him and Ivan?) Would Ludwig ever find out Feliciano is Feli in his memory?! Oh, the suspense, the suspense!
reCaptcha says "fantess CHAPTER" - is that a sign?!
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<33333
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The German, who had gotten slotted into the complex inner workings of the palatial mansion far too easily for comfort, blinked several times. Surprisingly, it was the paperwork that made things- easier. He had gotten swept to suit fittings, shoe fittings. Someone had been around to cut and style his hair and even fit him with a new pair of reading glasses. But the paperwork made things simpler. He could settle on the ancient and probably priceless desk he had been given and reduce the world to comparing documents and line upon line of numbers of innumerable accounts and transactions.
“A weapon?” he echoed.
Feliciano nodded almost resolutely. “Yes. Something that suits you,” he said.
“I don’t need one-” Ludwig began before the small Italian flapped a hand.
“You can meet Alfred too,” he said. “He just came in. I think you’ll like him.”
“Alfred” was a tall blonde man who looked barely out of his teens. He had a shock of bright gold hair, brilliantly blue eyes and thin silver framed glasses. Unlike the others (except for Yao), he didn’t wear a suit, opting for blue jeans and a ripped, ancient t-shirt that had seen much better days. In other words, he seemed to embody the very film image of an American boy, without any irony or self-consciousness.
Both of them were currently in a well-lit workshop filled from floor to ceiling with shelves of various mechanical parts. Dead engines with rusted propellers jostled with cracked computer screens on the precariously balanced racks. There was a smell of dust in the air as well as hot metal and oil. Someone did a lot of welding and smelting, noted a part of Ludwig’s memory. The pipe covered ceiling had fleets of model airplanes and colonies of plastic dinosaurs congregated on various tables.
“Alfred F. Jones,” said the boy (Ludwig couldn’t dub him anything else now). He stuck out a wide, knuckled hand smeared with charcoal dust and possibly engine grease.
Ludwig took it and received a very enthusiastic handshake that was just a little too tight in grip. “Ludwig Ed-” he began. “Just Ludwig.”
“So you’re the one doing the paperwork,” said Alfred far too cheerfully. His Italian was better than Arthur’s but he seemed to take a blithe pleasure mangling pronunciation every so often. It wasn’t a malicious sort of trait, just childish. “Thanks for that, by the way. It’s awesome not having to do it now. And besides, we’re killing trees and all that.”
He peered at Ludwig through his glasses. “Arthur told me that you like to use a Walther PPK. Double action. Not too surprised, I guess. Since you’re German. Right? Or was it Australian?”
“Austrian by citizenship,” Ludwig replied a little stiffly. “…German by birth.”
“How do you feel about shotguns?” asked Alfred, with a sudden glint in his eyes that had nothing to do with his lenses and the cold bright light of the fluorescent lamps everywhere.
“Excuse me?”
“Shotguns. I have one in the back and no one wants to use it. Because they’re wusses like that.” The other blond lapsed into English for a moment and Ludwig only got the slightest gist of the last statement.
“I’m not sure if I even need-” began Ludwig.
“-It’s just AWESOME but boss won’t let me carry it around because it freaks him out,” said Alfred as part of a greater litany.
Ludwig found a headache already pounding in merry symphony between his temples and he found himself touching his ear as a strange tinny echo began to bounce and rebound around near his eardrum. He tried to listen to the boy as best he could because it wasn’t polite to be like this.
“-so you can carry it and I’ll borrow it a lot and Boss isn’t going to be too freaked out about it-” continued Alfred.
Ludwig closed his eyes tightly for a moment and the headache only intensified. It hadn’t lost any strength with each rebound, as every echo built on top of one another.
“Whoa!” yelped Alfred, jumping backwards swiftly.
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“Holy shit- that’s the biggest damn Rain Flame I’ve ever seen, I didn’t even know that they got that big!”
If the Rain was for Tranquility, why couldn’t be some of that around here? The thought came naturally but it didn’t have any of the irritation or rancor that should have accompanied such a sentiment. Instead, Ludwig continued to observe the Flame with dispassionate interest.
By this time, Alfred had picked up a video camera and was circling around Ludwig excitedly. “Fuck, that’s amazing!”
Ludwig deigned to look into the camera, if only to give the boy a Look. Then he gritted his teeth. The headache was building and the dispassionate knowledge couldn’t keep it away any more. Ludwig clenched his fist and felt the Flame disappear, only to leave a pounding pain that cast a haze over his vision and a sudden wave of nausea. He swayed on his feet and gripped the edge of a table.
The next thing he knew, he was sitting in a fragile, rusty chair with his head between his knees. Arthur and Kiku were there, watching him.
“Well then,” said Arthur in deliberately coarse German. “Isn’t this interesting?”
Alfred said, “Hey, could you do that again? Just keep it up a little longer?”
(ooc:
-Ludwig wears glasses, if I haven’t clarified before. He’s a bit farsighted so he needs glasses if he’s going to be reading for an extended period of time. It has nothing to do with the fact that I think glasses are a sexy, sexy accessory.
-I based Alfred a bit on Wash from Firefly. He’s the Family hacker and gunsmith; actually, the first is what he was first hired for. Once in a while, he gets sent on negotiations to distract people with his puppy dog charm and his amazing… charisma. It’s also amazing what people will tell a “stupid foreigner”, too, as both he and Feliciano have learned. He also speaks perfectly fluent Italian, if he feels like it, and he’s been picking up Japanese from Kiku.
-Alfred is exaggerating about the shotgun. Sort of.)
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The German, who had gotten slotted into the complex inner workings of the palatial mansion far too easily for comfort, blinked several times. Surprisingly, it was the paperwork that made things- easier. He had gotten swept to suit fittings, shoe fittings. Someone had been around to cut and style his hair and even fit him with a new pair of reading glasses. But the paperwork made things simpler. He could settle on the ancient and probably priceless desk he had been given and reduce the world to comparing documents and line upon line of numbers of innumerable accounts and transactions.
So cinematic! Oh I adore, absolutely adore your writing style.
Lovely, lovely Alfred! Why so cute? I think it's also not-so-strangely fitting that you based him on Wash. That made me dance extra happily for the meta-mention of Firefly! And glasses is so totally a sexy accessory, particularly on Ludwig. *shot*
Off topic: Could being far sighted makes Ludwig a good/better marksman than he otherwise would be? No, this is totally irrelevant I know, just a random thought.
Now that you mentioned weaponry, I am curious what weapon each of them uses (Feliciano uses a handgun of sorts, usually tucked away in a briefcase, Kiku uses the sword, iirc from previous parts) Tell me MORE!
Sending you a lot of my love, author!anon~
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Alfred strikes me as the Wash-type. Including acting out things using his plastic dinosaur collection when he's bored. "Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!"
Ludwig is a decent marksman, definitely better than average. It might be due to his farsightedness, it might not. :D He's a good shot and to be honest, a shotgun wouldn't be a bad weapon for him; he's certainly strong enough to handle the recoil without any trouble.
I'll go into weaponry later, especially when Ludwig meets everyone else.
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Then again, Ludwig handling a shotgun brought up fond memories of Biohazard/Resident Evil. Hmmm~ I can't wait!!! And if you would explain this episode of spontaneous "Fire up" that would be awesome~
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