A Hero By Any Other Name [2a/?]
anonymous
July 15 2011, 01:29:05 UTC
Sorry for the long wait! My ISP is really being a wanker--as England would say--and a punk--as I say. Seriously, it goes out multiple times a day--sometimes for hours at a time. There are a few OC's in this one for the sake of putting ideas in America's head in an effective way; I needed it to be a particularly sneaky way. Kids say the darnedest things! They probably won't be appearing again in the course of the plot.
What was all this with his name anyway? Sometimes, usually during World Meetings, he wondered why the Founding Fathers had used “America” in the first place-that was when he got a lot of grief from the countries in the combined American continents. He could not count the number of times he questioned that decision. If having to suffer through the pains of a bad economy and polarized politics weren’t bad enough, he was questioning his very name. How pathetic was that? Alfred couldn’t even remember having any other name. He had not always been ‘Alfred’ or ‘America’ anymore than his brother had been ‘Canada’ or ‘Matthew.’ Why couldn’t people just leave him alone and not make him worry about all the complicated stuff. Just give him the sciences to play with and leave the logic for people with too much time on their hands-not that he couldn’t think through stuff on his own.
America’s boss was about to say something else when a tentative knock came at the door. “Do you mind?” He asked his country out of respect. How big of him since he had just repeatedly insulted the nation. He nodded his consent and sat back again, letting loose a sigh of relief at the welcomed break.
“Go ahead, but this discussion isn’t over.” His boss merely nodded.
“Come in,” the President’s voice rang out through the quiet room.
“Yay!” The door burst open and in ran the man’s four children, all of them dashing straight to Alfred. “Hello Alfred!” The cried out, three sets of arms twirling around his legs, and another settling loosely around his shoulders.
“Hey!” He grinned, and picked up the smallest child, who was around two years old, and started ticking her. “What’s up? Did ya come to see the hero?”
“Yep!” A chorus of young voices rang out through the room. He laughed.
“You didn’t come to see your old man?” His boss laughed, and struggled with a feigned frown that just turned into a grin of his own.
“Did you ask him, Daddy?” Another of the children called out from the floor between America’s knees, this one newly six years old. She had the cutest curly blonde hair Alfred ever saw.
“Yeah, Alfred’s such a funny name.” Came the voice of the little boy, age seven, clutching him around his left knee.
America’s eyebrows rose to a comedic height, and failed in his attempt to conceal his-manly-squeak.
“You can’t tell someone their name sounds funny.” The girl behind him berated her brother; she was twelve. “I think you have a very nice name Alfred.” Always so serious that one. She petted his hair; okay, maybe she wasn’t all that serious. He suspected she had a crush on him, and wondered if her father had told her that he was her country. Literally.
“What’s with all this hating on the hero’s name, huh?” He laughed at the continuation of the interrupted conversation, attempting to make light of it. He did not want his boss’s children to know it was not a pleasant one. It was nice to know the true intentions of the inquiry. “I’m not hating on your name, Alfie. I like it.” The oldest girl stated with cool, self-assurance.
“Yay for Alexa!” He brought an arm up and around him to give her a quick hug.
“Your papa and I were just talkin’ about it.”
“Oh, so he did ask you?” The six-year-old, Gabriela, spoke up again.
“He asked me about why I had such an unusual name.”
“That’s not what he was supposed to ask!?” The little boy exclaimed.
“Well, Cisco, what is it, then? Or I’ll have to pass little Mía off to you to hold? Though that would be punishment for me too, because she’s so cute!” He punctuated his point by ticking the little girl’s stomach.
Re: A Hero By Any Other Name [2b/?]
anonymous
July 15 2011, 01:55:29 UTC
“No!” He yelled and retreated a few feet, and plopped himself on the floor, making Alfred chuckle. The girls all loved him, and held him tighter, joining America in laughing at the boy.
Little Mía giggled. “Afwed da gweat!”
“Wha?” He started at the little girl on his arms, and then over to his boss to get some clarification. “The hero is great?” He wasn’t sure he believed that himself.
“Of course, Alfred is great! He plays with us!” Gabriela chimed in. Alexa sighed behind him. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Awe, the hero, isn’t great after all?” He made a show of pouting. The land of the free and the home of the brave really did wonder about that. He didn’t feel so very great anymore. He had been down on himself, and disappointed in his people, for a couple decades-one of the reasons he wasn’t looking forward to yet another World Meeting or the prospect of sharing a suite with someone. How ‘united’ were his states these days? With his chronic headaches, he really couldn’t say one way or another. He certainly wasn’t worthy of being called great right now.
Alexa sighed again. “You were, like, named after a hero. Or, at least, that’s what I think. The history book said he was a hero.” She blushed. “I wanted Papa to ask you what it felt like to share a name with ‘Alfred the Great’. I am studying about him in school right now. I asked him at breakfast this morning, if he could. He didn’t really answer me, though.”
The president avoided his country’s gaze.
“Oh, he didn’t?” America swallowed hard, giving the man across from him a hard stare, not sure what to think of all this, keeping his own apprehension to himself. “Well, Alex, I think he was going to do that just before you came in.”
“Oh good!” She exclaimed eagerly. “How do feel about it?” The words came as a rush.
“Well, I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it and get back with ya?” He tried to save face, and stalled for time. He had heard the name and some history behind it sometime or other, but couldn’t recall the source. And, it bothered him. He wasn’t ready to get into questions about his name. “Hey, how we go out and watch some fireworks!?”
“Yay!” All the children exclaimed, Francisco leapt off the floor and pumped his fist in the air.
“How about it boss?”
“Sure Alfred, I suppose we’re done here. Go have fun. Enjoy your birthday.”
“Yes!” He gave a cheer of his own.
“Incidentally, Alfred, you’ll be rooming with Eng-with the, ahem, representative from the UK.”
“Thanks boss. Arthur’s not really so bad. At least it’s not Francis.” His boss apparently hadn’t told his children that he was their nation, which was just as well. Little children didn’t need to worry about that stuff. He rose from the chair and moved toward the door in awkward, stunted steps. All the girls were still attached to various parts of his body: Alex at his left arm, Gabby clutching his right leg, and Mía in his arms hanging onto his neck. Cisco had run ahead of them out through a pair of French doors that lead into the gardens. “Hero and his sidekicks away!”
Fireworks, brass bands, and hotdogs made him feel just as much like a child as the company running along with him out into the White House gardens. It was just what he needed. These little ones were the future. And, they’d get to spend their childhood with their country. They were awesome little people. Maybe there was hope, yet. Maybe he could go all round the country to all the schools in all the states and give them hope too.
They ran and skipped and danced and flew-the children in Alfred’s strong arms-across the White House lawn underneath the bright flashes of colors above them. Soon, the higher mental processes of his mind became less important than the all-essential necessity to entertain his boss’s children now-his childlike mannerisms ever-present, despite his attempts to quell them to do his job. He was so at ease around all children, no front needed. They were all too easy to impress that he didn’t even need to impress them. With the prospect of fireworks and hotdogs, Alfred let all thoughts of the uncomfortable meeting and questioning slip to an empty spot in the back of his mind.
Martin Waldseemüller, a German cartographer, produced the first map in 1507 that included the name "America" for the land masses in the Western Hemisphere. The Founding Fathers went through some debate as to what the country's name was going to be, another option was "Columbia". In 1776, they just went with the name on the map, when drafting the Declaration of Independence. Americgo Vespucci wasn't the first to discover the "America's." The Vikings did, they discovered Vinland--Canada--around 1000 CE. In my headcannon Canada is the older brother.
This takes place a some point in the future, thus the new president, and all his children. In this future, the economy is improved, but still not great. It's going to take a long time to fix it. The education system needs work too. I'm just hacking at my issues with current issues, I suppose.
I am so sorry, I had such fun writing the children that part go away from me. Sorry OP! I hope they are all right. And I'm sorry if America is OOC, he has some issues after all. He tries to be heroic, but I think even the most enthusiastic of individuals will tire of putting on that kind of front constantly. I tried to keep him bubbly on the outside though. The reasons for that will be explained in the next part. A lot of writers make America even more of an air-headed idiot than he really is--but that's my headcannon coming out again.
Hey A!A, just found the fic and I must say I'm eager for the rest, because this is a really nice start. The kids were cute, and America's going to mull this all over while rooming with England? Can't wait :3 Plus your America headcanon is pretty much mine too.
OP loves you a!a. Seeing these updates between my hectic work schedule make my day (or night as it were). Your headcannon Al is great (I can easily see him like this) and I can't wait for the rest. The children are sweet and cute. And I would totally have a crush on my country too :)
OP, I am terribly ashamed about the long delay. I try to keep my writing ahead of what I update. However, in doing that, the plot took a very wrong turn, and I had to backtrack to figure what I had intended for a certain part that comes next so someone--Alfred--doesn't end up so OOC it won't even be funny. I've reached a challenging part, and I'm OCD about my writing. I will update as soon as I sort things out. The next part is actually written, at the very least. This has taken on a life of its own.
OP, I'm delighted that you like my headcannon Al and my OCs. That makes me feel much better. I'm trying so hard not to disappoint.
The next section is Arthur's POV. Any ideas as to what kind of car he might have? I just went with a Mini Cooper because I found a really sweet looking one in British racing green, but I can easily change it.
What was all this with his name anyway? Sometimes, usually during World Meetings, he wondered why the Founding Fathers had used “America” in the first place-that was when he got a lot of grief from the countries in the combined American continents. He could not count the number of times he questioned that decision. If having to suffer through the pains of a bad economy and polarized politics weren’t bad enough, he was questioning his very name. How pathetic was that? Alfred couldn’t even remember having any other name. He had not always been ‘Alfred’ or ‘America’ anymore than his brother had been ‘Canada’ or ‘Matthew.’ Why couldn’t people just leave him alone and not make him worry about all the complicated stuff. Just give him the sciences to play with and leave the logic for people with too much time on their hands-not that he couldn’t think through stuff on his own.
America’s boss was about to say something else when a tentative knock came at the door.
“Do you mind?” He asked his country out of respect. How big of him since he had just repeatedly insulted the nation. He nodded his consent and sat back again, letting loose a sigh of relief at the welcomed break.
“Go ahead, but this discussion isn’t over.” His boss merely nodded.
“Come in,” the President’s voice rang out through the quiet room.
“Yay!” The door burst open and in ran the man’s four children, all of them dashing straight to Alfred. “Hello Alfred!” The cried out, three sets of arms twirling around his legs, and another settling loosely around his shoulders.
“Hey!” He grinned, and picked up the smallest child, who was around two years old, and started ticking her. “What’s up? Did ya come to see the hero?”
“Yep!” A chorus of young voices rang out through the room. He laughed.
“You didn’t come to see your old man?” His boss laughed, and struggled with a feigned frown that just turned into a grin of his own.
“Did you ask him, Daddy?” Another of the children called out from the floor between America’s knees, this one newly six years old. She had the cutest curly blonde hair Alfred ever saw.
“Yeah, Alfred’s such a funny name.” Came the voice of the little boy, age seven, clutching him around his left knee.
America’s eyebrows rose to a comedic height, and failed in his attempt to conceal his-manly-squeak.
“You can’t tell someone their name sounds funny.” The girl behind him berated her brother; she was twelve. “I think you have a very nice name Alfred.” Always so serious that one. She petted his hair; okay, maybe she wasn’t all that serious. He suspected she had a crush on him, and wondered if her father had told her that he was her country. Literally.
“What’s with all this hating on the hero’s name, huh?” He laughed at the continuation of the interrupted conversation, attempting to make light of it. He did not want his boss’s children to know it was not a pleasant one. It was nice to know the true intentions of the inquiry.
“I’m not hating on your name, Alfie. I like it.” The oldest girl stated with cool, self-assurance.
“Yay for Alexa!” He brought an arm up and around him to give her a quick hug.
“Your papa and I were just talkin’ about it.”
“Oh, so he did ask you?” The six-year-old, Gabriela, spoke up again.
“He asked me about why I had such an unusual name.”
“That’s not what he was supposed to ask!?” The little boy exclaimed.
“Well, Cisco, what is it, then? Or I’ll have to pass little Mía off to you to hold? Though that would be punishment for me too, because she’s so cute!” He punctuated his point by ticking the little girl’s stomach.
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Little Mía giggled. “Afwed da gweat!”
“Wha?” He started at the little girl on his arms, and then over to his boss to get some clarification. “The hero is great?” He wasn’t sure he believed that himself.
“Of course, Alfred is great! He plays with us!” Gabriela chimed in.
Alexa sighed behind him. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Awe, the hero, isn’t great after all?” He made a show of pouting. The land of the free and the home of the brave really did wonder about that. He didn’t feel so very great anymore. He had been down on himself, and disappointed in his people, for a couple decades-one of the reasons he wasn’t looking forward to yet another World Meeting or the prospect of sharing a suite with someone. How ‘united’ were his states these days? With his chronic headaches, he really couldn’t say one way or another. He certainly wasn’t worthy of being called great right now.
Alexa sighed again. “You were, like, named after a hero. Or, at least, that’s what I think. The history book said he was a hero.” She blushed. “I wanted Papa to ask you what it felt like to share a name with ‘Alfred the Great’. I am studying about him in school right now. I asked him at breakfast this morning, if he could. He didn’t really answer me, though.”
The president avoided his country’s gaze.
“Oh, he didn’t?” America swallowed hard, giving the man across from him a hard stare, not sure what to think of all this, keeping his own apprehension to himself. “Well, Alex, I think he was going to do that just before you came in.”
“Oh good!” She exclaimed eagerly. “How do feel about it?” The words came as a rush.
“Well, I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it and get back with ya?” He tried to save face, and stalled for time. He had heard the name and some history behind it sometime or other, but couldn’t recall the source. And, it bothered him. He wasn’t ready to get into questions about his name. “Hey, how we go out and watch some fireworks!?”
“Yay!” All the children exclaimed, Francisco leapt off the floor and pumped his fist in the air.
“How about it boss?”
“Sure Alfred, I suppose we’re done here. Go have fun. Enjoy your birthday.”
“Yes!” He gave a cheer of his own.
“Incidentally, Alfred, you’ll be rooming with Eng-with the, ahem, representative from the UK.”
“Thanks boss. Arthur’s not really so bad. At least it’s not Francis.” His boss apparently hadn’t told his children that he was their nation, which was just as well. Little children didn’t need to worry about that stuff. He rose from the chair and moved toward the door in awkward, stunted steps. All the girls were still attached to various parts of his body: Alex at his left arm, Gabby clutching his right leg, and Mía in his arms hanging onto his neck. Cisco had run ahead of them out through a pair of French doors that lead into the gardens. “Hero and his sidekicks away!”
Fireworks, brass bands, and hotdogs made him feel just as much like a child as the company running along with him out into the White House gardens. It was just what he needed. These little ones were the future. And, they’d get to spend their childhood with their country. They were awesome little people. Maybe there was hope, yet. Maybe he could go all round the country to all the schools in all the states and give them hope too.
They ran and skipped and danced and flew-the children in Alfred’s strong arms-across the White House lawn underneath the bright flashes of colors above them. Soon, the higher mental processes of his mind became less important than the all-essential necessity to entertain his boss’s children now-his childlike mannerisms ever-present, despite his attempts to quell them to do his job. He was so at ease around all children, no front needed. They were all too easy to impress that he didn’t even need to impress them. With the prospect of fireworks and hotdogs, Alfred let all thoughts of the uncomfortable meeting and questioning slip to an empty spot in the back of his mind.
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Martin Waldseemüller, a German cartographer, produced the first map in 1507 that included the name "America" for the land masses in the Western Hemisphere. The Founding Fathers went through some debate as to what the country's name was going to be, another option was "Columbia". In 1776, they just went with the name on the map, when drafting the Declaration of Independence. Americgo Vespucci wasn't the first to discover the "America's." The Vikings did, they discovered Vinland--Canada--around 1000 CE. In my headcannon Canada is the older brother.
This takes place a some point in the future, thus the new president, and all his children. In this future, the economy is improved, but still not great. It's going to take a long time to fix it. The education system needs work too. I'm just hacking at my issues with current issues, I suppose.
I am so sorry, I had such fun writing the children that part go away from me. Sorry OP! I hope they are all right. And I'm sorry if America is OOC, he has some issues after all. He tries to be heroic, but I think even the most enthusiastic of individuals will tire of putting on that kind of front constantly. I tried to keep him bubbly on the outside though. The reasons for that will be explained in the next part. A lot of writers make America even more of an air-headed idiot than he really is--but that's my headcannon coming out again.
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OP, I'm delighted that you like my headcannon Al and my OCs. That makes me feel much better. I'm trying so hard not to disappoint.
The next section is Arthur's POV. Any ideas as to what kind of car he might have? I just went with a Mini Cooper because I found a really sweet looking one in British racing green, but I can easily change it.
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