"Mein Gott that bastard..."
Gilbert as been mumbling in his gag for about an hour as he peered outside the barred window. Ivan has left him in the dungeon in his castle for a while now. The bastard must be in some sort of meeting. Dammit! It's too hard to pick a lock with his hand (and claw) bound behind his back, his feet tied and his mouth gagged, even for a thief lord.
Ivan Braginski was a very rich and famous man. He was an inventor and head scientist of the Industrial International Steam Company. He was a very accomplished man at age 28. He had money, fame and anything a man could wish. If he didn't have what he wanted, he either made it or take it. It was like his life philosophy.
Gilbert too was famous, but for a much different reason. Unlike Ivan who grew up rich, he was an orphan and raised his baby brother as he escaped the awful orphanage they lived at. He was always on the run, and grew up to be a master of thieves. He was the leader if a group called the Clockwork Birds. For a price, they would do anything from hacking into steam-powered machines, to lock-picking and stealing. His brother even did illegal surgeries or gave medical care for the poor. They had a rather popular business in the black market and also among extremely poor peasants. The goal of the Clockwork Birds was not just stealing for the sake of being rich, but giving back to the less fortunate who suffered under the higher classes and the unfair taxes of King Arthur like themselves.
Gilbert sighed and hoped his brother and friends were in a better situation then he was.
"Hey, amigo! You're needed down here!"
Gilbert sighed as he looked down at his scattered papers. "Coming!" Gilbert loved his room in the hidden attic. He shared it with many others, but especially took pride in his desk where 'awesome miracles would happen'. It was scratched and old, and one of the legs of it broke or rotted away. Gilbert replaced it with large metal rod. It was where he would make blue-prints of new mechanical limbs, plot, draw and daydream.
Gilbert walked down the stairs and smiled as he saw his friend Antonio attending to a another boy, not much older then his own little brother, with soft brown hair, a odd curl sticking out and sobbing his eyes out over his leather apron. Gilbert noticed that he had a crude mechanical thumb on his right hand and his other was stuffed oddly in his pocket. There was another person, a young man who looked like he could be the twin with the other boy but had darker hair and narrowed, glowing coffee-stained eyes.
"Are you Gilbert Beilschmidt?" Gilbert narrowed his eyes at the harsh Italian accent, but nodded.
"Ja! That's the awesome me! You need something?"
The elder glanced at his crying brother then rolled his eyes. "We ran away from work. I bet your familiar with I I Steam Company? We need a place to stay."
"Industrial International? Look, no offense kid, we kind of have a lot on our plate right now. I know it's hell over there especially when he offered housing for youngsters like you but-"
"Shut up, you idiota! Can't you take a fucking hint? Someone is chasing us! We need a place to stay!" The younger flinched then wiped his eyes. "I-It's true. We really need some help..." The boy stood up from his chair and revealed his left hand which was split deeply and infected. Little boles were embedded in his hand and oozing with pus. "He gave me some sort of medicine when I was working.. I don't remember much, I think I fought back and my brother rescued me... It was only been a few hours, and I have no idea why it's still infected.
"M-Mein Gott, kid! Why didn't you tell us sooner?" The boy shrugged. Antonio swallowed.
"Did this person have a large leather top hat and a faded pink scarf?"
"Bastardo! Of course it was the damn head director! Ivan Braginski! We don't have a damn clue why he's still after us! We're just another pair of under-paid workers." The elder spat out the name like it was made of poison.
Gilbert adjusted the brass goggles that sat on his head and gingerly picked up the younger's hand. "He cut you with a poisoned knife. Hemlock. Lucky for you, that Russian bastard doesn't know his poisons like me." He grinned. "It's still fatal, but very treatable unless you swallow it. How old are you anyways, kid? What's your name?"
"I'm Felciano Vargas. That's my brother Lovino. I just turned 17." Lovino scowled but Gilbert ginned.
"You're the same age as mein bruder! Speaking of which, he can fix you up nicely! Come on follow me!"
Ludwig was working intensely in the basement. He enjoyed being alone and working on new limbs from the blue prints his brother made. He took pride in the brass arm he made for his brother many years ago. There was always a way to improve it, prevent it from rusting, the possibilities were endless. He flinched as he heard the metal door slam open. Maybe he put too much strength into that arm...
"Bruder! Can you clean up this boy's hand? He's the same age as you, can you believe it? Anyways, it's hemlock, so clean it nicely, ja? I have work to do! Carpe deim!"
Feliciano looked nervous as Ludwig's idiot older brother left loudly and abruptly. "That guy... Sorry, my brider is a bit... eccentric. He shouldn't take such serious things too lightly... Come here."
The Italian smiled brightly. "Ve, okay!"
"Why is he so cheerful all of a sudden? Fucking bastard..." Lovino sat on the table and glared at the Spanard across from him. So far, he seemed like an oblivious idiot. Somehow, it was refreshing.
Antonio grinned. "Well, him and Ivan have been enemies for years. You know that Gilbert burned down one of his factories once? He made sure everyone was okay of course, but wow, what a sight... The flames were perfect shade of tomato red." He smiled happily and laughed at the memory.
"Wh-What? That was him?" The Italian brothers thought it was just a story to bring hope among the workers.
"That's how he started the Clockwork Birds. We decided we had enough, especially after the director ripped off Gilbert's arm for a punishment. He refused to make this weird gun... It was powered by steam and the only ones smart enough to actually build it was Gilbert and Ludwig. I mean, they were the ones that designed it. The director was clueless! The one thing he couldn't make!" Antonio laughed and Lovino shivered.
"Must have been some gun..." Braginski must have been angry as fuck. No one opposed him. He might as well be King Arthur.
"Si! It was pretty bad! That's why they're always at each others throat! So, the question is, why is he after you?"
"I-Idiota! That's what the hell I want to know!"
Gilbert sighed as he leaned in his chair, balancing his feather pen above his lip. Why was the Russian creep after them? It seemed like the brothers were as clueless as them, but Braginski doesn't attack unless provoked, or he needed something. Rape victims were common, but why would he intend to kill him? It's not like the director would actually get arrested. "Bruder? I fixed up Feliciano, that boy. I put him in one of the extra beds. Now what?"
Gilbert jumped and fell back in his chair. "Mein G-Gott! Knock first please!" He grunted as he got up and rubbed his brass arm. "I want to know why Braginski is after them. Did you find anything else?"
The blond shrugged. "Feliciano was a locksmith and Lovino was a blacksmith. It's not like they have exceeded skill or anything. But he really did intend to kill. Or maybe he was just drunk."
Gilbert scoffed. "Not likely. Where's the other one? Lovino."
"With Feliciano. They're wiped out from running." He swallowed. "You think they'd release the Dogs?"
Gilbert just shrugged. "I don't know. But let's not worry, ja? So, any business today?" He tried to smiled to reassure his worried brother.
"Nothing much. Alfred is going to rob a clock store near the kingdom for extra parts, Francis is still out doing Gott-knows-what and that Rodrich guy came back."
"The stupid looking guy with a huge-ass mole? Prestigious, prick. If he didn't give us so much money I would've robbed his house clean! I can't believe Liz married him. Gold-digger. Anyways, what does he want?"
"He just wanted some keys and a lock-picker. He also wants someone to break into his competitor's business. We can keep whatever we find." Gilbert thought for a moment.
"He's as low as ever. Okay, I'll assign some people to do that tomorrow." He yawned and got up. "It's kind of late. You should go to bed. I'm just going to work for a while, Ja?"
Ludwig shrugged silently and padded downstairs. As soon as Ludwig left, Gilbert pulled out a particular blue print he was hiding. It was old and burnt at the edges with pencil marks scrawled all over it.
At first glance, the blue print of the Steam Operated Bomb Device, or simply the Gun, looked like nothing special. But if you look closely, the lines that make up the Gun are highly detailed. With a magnifying glass, Gilbert revealed to himself the exact measurements and parts weaved into the lines. The thing that was so dangerous about making this gun was the measurements. Not only did it run on steam, it was also a deadly nuclear weapon. One wrong step and you'll get blown to pieces.
"Dammit... should have burned this a long time ago.." Gilbert didn't know why he kept it, but all he really knew was that it could never end up in the wrong hands. Ivan knew how dangerous it and wanted it to become King himself. It wasn't like a new king would put them any worse off then they already were, but no way in hell Gilbert wanted to start a nuclear war.
Gilbert woke up drooling on his desk. He was lucky that Ludwig didn't walk in and see the blue print of the Gun. The East German yawned and staggered downstairs to see the two Italian brothers scarfing down some pasta. Both Antonio and Ludwig were trying to slow them down. "S-Slow down! Your going to choke!"
Feliciano paused for a moment and smiled blissfully. "Ve! Sorry, we haven't had this much food for a while!" He helped himself to another bowl and the two gawked. This must have been his third bowl of pasta in the last ten minuets.
Gilbert smiled as he said his good mornings and trotted towards the front door. It was set up as a sort of Inn. Officials never dared to come here because they village they were staying with was too poor.
"Bonjour, Gil!"
What's up!" Gilbert smiled as he saw his two friends and fellow Birds sit on top of the counter. Francis was a skilled cook and clockmaker who worked with Gilbert and Antonio when they were teens. Alfred came to the Clockwork Birds after his mother has been brutely executed by King Arthur himself for not paying her taxes. He became a skilled fighter.
"Nothing much. So any good loot? You two were out yesterday."
They both grinned and excitedly told the German about their new treasures and such. Gilbert laughed with them until he heard a low, long growl. They all stopped talking.
Within a second, the front door exploded to reveal a mechanical dog with three silver heads. The creature was huge and it lunged at Gilbert. He could he screams and shouts around him. "Stupid dog!" He hit it hard with his own brass arm and then dug sharp claws into in. Danke, Luddy! "Everyone! Get out! Go underground!" He winced as he heard metal crunching. Damn, one of the heads bit his arm. He looked back to see his brother and Antonio guide the Italian down into their underground safety haven.
Gilbert screamed as one of the other heads clamped the other arm in it's mouth. He was trapped. His eyes flashed upward as he saw a figure walking towards him. "Gilbert! It's been too long, da?"
A/N: I just want to say sorry... I have some writer's block, but I will update my maple blog and the other stories! This is to unblock my imagination. I kind of like it, so I might continue with this. Hope you like it! Mwuah mwuah! I love you all! R&R! Reveiws make me very happy!
-ItalianNightmares!