Fanfic post [6]
Title: We are with you
Series: Hetalia
Type: Drabble
Rating: PG
Warnings: References the recent floods in Queensland, Hetalia State OC's used
I'm the hot wind from the desert, I'm the black soil of the plains
I'm the mountains and the valleys, I'm the drought and flooding rains
I am the rock, I am the sky, the rivers when they run
The spirit of this great land, I am Australian.
I am Australian - Bruce Woodley and Dobe Newton
Elizabeth Wilson, the state of Queensland, sat on a wicker chair on the wide veranda of her Brisbane home, her legs pulled up in front of her, arms around her ankles and chin resting on her knees. Her long, sun bleached hair was lank and lifeless, her skin clammy, and tears slowly made their way down her cheeks, dropping to the wooden floor and trickling over the edge to be lost in the brown water that whirled around the houses in the street.
It was not in her nature to be so still and quiet, but she knew from experience that there was nothing she could right now but watch and wait, though it was immensely hard from all the adrenaline pumping through her.
Her dog Davo padded up to her and silently laid his head on the arm of the chair. She reached out and put her hand on his head as the radio on a little table crossed to her premier speaking.
“…As we weep for what we have lost, and as we grieve for family and friends and we confront the challenge that is before us, I want us to remember who we are. We are Queenslanders. We're the people that they breed tough, north of the border. We're the ones that they knock down, and we get up again. Together we can pull through this and that's what I'm determined to do, with your help, we can achieve it.”
As it finished, Elizabeth gave a little sniff. “I might rag on her a lot, but Anna really comes through when I need it.” She said to Davo. He whined a little in response.
Suddenly there came a shout from further along the street. She blinked, before slowly unfolding her legs and walking along the veranda, down the two steps not covered by water.
Around the corner three houses up came a tinny, and Elizabeth gasped when she recognised who was steering it.
“Oi! Ella!” Robbo called, waving furiously with one arm. She stared for a moment, before calling back, Davo barking excitedly with her.
“What are you bloody doing you nut!”
“What’s it bloody look like? I knew ya weren’t leaving, so I’m sticking it out with ya!” As the tinny drew closer Ella could see canned food and bottled water in the bottom of it.
“You flew up from bloody Melbourne just to sit in a swamp with me? There’s nothing to do here, you should’ve stayed and gone to the cricket.” But her face had broken into a watery smile, and when Robbo stepped off the boat she wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug.
“…Thank you.” She whispered. He held her close as the tears began to run down her face again.
“You cry all ya want, Ella-Bella. I’ll stay s’long as I can.”
“That might not be very long, with how everyhting’s going. Is- is Sandgroper okay?”
Robbo sighed, knowing she was right. “He’s been better, but s’not like he’s never seen a bushfire ‘fore.”
Ella gave a weak chuckle. “Tell ‘im I know where he can find some spare water.”
Robbo gave her a squeeze. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s get ya fixed up.”
I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of drought and flooding rains,
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel sea,
Her beauty and her terror -
The wide brown land for me.
My Country - Dorothea MacKellar
If anyone feels that perhaps this is too soon, I apologise, but writing is how I deal with things. And being in the centre of Brisbane when it’s being evacuated? Spending a day bringing books and photos upstairs? Hearing from friends that they can’t buy bread or milk, or that they’re staying at another’s house? Is stuff that needs to be dealt with. I was luckily not directly affected, but this is not the sort of thing that you just get over.
Series: Hetalia
Type: Drabble
Rating: PG
Warnings: References the recent floods in Queensland, Hetalia State OC's used
I'm the hot wind from the desert, I'm the black soil of the plains
I'm the mountains and the valleys, I'm the drought and flooding rains
I am the rock, I am the sky, the rivers when they run
The spirit of this great land, I am Australian.
I am Australian - Bruce Woodley and Dobe Newton
Elizabeth Wilson, the state of Queensland, sat on a wicker chair on the wide veranda of her Brisbane home, her legs pulled up in front of her, arms around her ankles and chin resting on her knees. Her long, sun bleached hair was lank and lifeless, her skin clammy, and tears slowly made their way down her cheeks, dropping to the wooden floor and trickling over the edge to be lost in the brown water that whirled around the houses in the street.
It was not in her nature to be so still and quiet, but she knew from experience that there was nothing she could right now but watch and wait, though it was immensely hard from all the adrenaline pumping through her.
Her dog Davo padded up to her and silently laid his head on the arm of the chair. She reached out and put her hand on his head as the radio on a little table crossed to her premier speaking.
“…As we weep for what we have lost, and as we grieve for family and friends and we confront the challenge that is before us, I want us to remember who we are. We are Queenslanders. We're the people that they breed tough, north of the border. We're the ones that they knock down, and we get up again. Together we can pull through this and that's what I'm determined to do, with your help, we can achieve it.”
As it finished, Elizabeth gave a little sniff. “I might rag on her a lot, but Anna really comes through when I need it.” She said to Davo. He whined a little in response.
Suddenly there came a shout from further along the street. She blinked, before slowly unfolding her legs and walking along the veranda, down the two steps not covered by water.
Around the corner three houses up came a tinny, and Elizabeth gasped when she recognised who was steering it.
“Oi! Ella!” Robbo called, waving furiously with one arm. She stared for a moment, before calling back, Davo barking excitedly with her.
“What are you bloody doing you nut!”
“What’s it bloody look like? I knew ya weren’t leaving, so I’m sticking it out with ya!” As the tinny drew closer Ella could see canned food and bottled water in the bottom of it.
“You flew up from bloody Melbourne just to sit in a swamp with me? There’s nothing to do here, you should’ve stayed and gone to the cricket.” But her face had broken into a watery smile, and when Robbo stepped off the boat she wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug.
“…Thank you.” She whispered. He held her close as the tears began to run down her face again.
“You cry all ya want, Ella-Bella. I’ll stay s’long as I can.”
“That might not be very long, with how everyhting’s going. Is- is Sandgroper okay?”
Robbo sighed, knowing she was right. “He’s been better, but s’not like he’s never seen a bushfire ‘fore.”
Ella gave a weak chuckle. “Tell ‘im I know where he can find some spare water.”
Robbo gave her a squeeze. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s get ya fixed up.”
I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of drought and flooding rains,
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel sea,
Her beauty and her terror -
The wide brown land for me.
My Country - Dorothea MacKellar
If anyone feels that perhaps this is too soon, I apologise, but writing is how I deal with things. And being in the centre of Brisbane when it’s being evacuated? Spending a day bringing books and photos upstairs? Hearing from friends that they can’t buy bread or milk, or that they’re staying at another’s house? Is stuff that needs to be dealt with. I was luckily not directly affected, but this is not the sort of thing that you just get over.