Chapter One
My career started with the dreams of the man in a green hat.
He danced and sang through the fields of anastasia lilies and unicum tulips, a smile always on his pale face. This man was never a threat to me, he always seemed very kind, his smile warm and fun. He looked like a graceful child slipping through the flowers. His movement's sharp yet flowy, always turning around to look at me quickly, as if checking I were still there. He was leading me somewhere, and I could tell. But I always woke up before we got anywhere beyond the flower fields.
He made me happy, I liked to go to bed at night so I could see him. in my country-side home- he provided me with mystery and fun. I looked for him in the fields, made it a game to find that green hat in the wood surrounding our home. My parents blamed it on childhood, they knew the man in the green hat was very real to me, and they accepted it since I was young. My dad would play with me in the fields to help me find him. My mom thought it was cute.
I loved my home. At age five, a home surrounded by fields and mountains for miles was great. A rather large mountain was the one where my dreams rested. I imagined that the man in the green hat was waiting for me on the other side of that mountain, but because of the mountains size, I was never allowed on it. I played, made up games, explored the woods. I couldn't go far, nor on the biggest mountain, my parents couldn't let me. I watched the mountains from my home, imagining what was on the other side. I liked to think that's where the man in the green hat lived, that's where the flower patches were. One day, I imagined I would find him, and he could show me where he was taking me.
Around two years of this happening, I started to draw. I started to draw the man and his top hat, what the flowers looked like, what I thought he was going to show me. From there on my passion began. My dreams became more vivid, and the more they gave me, the more I gave back. I fleshed the dreams out, and they became less real, but more of a fantastic fairytale. My own story to entertain the masses with. I soon started to figure this was just my mind producing awesome imagery for me to write with, nothing real, but I still adored the man in the green hat. He was my inspiration, he was my character, he was mine. But yet, I felt although he were a separate being. That he was alive, and he had personality, and it was not my duty to change him. I just had to flesh him out. That he was a mysterious part in my brain I needed to decode.
The man in the green hat was as real to me as a normal person. I knew he wasn't real, but I remembered him well. His dartmouth green eyes, blonde eyelashes that flapped like butterfly wings when he blinked. Every stitch in the black ribbon around his emerald silk tophat. His skinny fingers, followed by small hands and girlish arms. Freckles dashed around his pale, round face, a small round nose resting under his eyes. Pink lips that curled when he smiled. I could feel every part of him just by looking at him, that his lips were soft, his pale blonde hair messy, but not knotted, it was soft and fluffy. He never talked, but I could tell he was British. The night when I decided he was British, he talked for the first time to me, and he was infact British. "Great guess," He had said with a wink and a thumbs up. If I wished to catch up to him, to make him talk, to say more to me, he would look at me sadly before running further ahead and returned to beckoning me closer.
His name was Arthur Kirkland.
He hadn't told me that, he hardly ever talked to me. But the day I decided that, Arthur was pleased. He greeted me with every dream, but that day, he was especially happy. "Good evening, I love the name. Arthur Kirkland. Sounds right on the tongue, hm? Come along, now, love." He always sounded like a controlled form of happy, a gentleman-y happy. Then, I gave Arthur a friend. He was a rabbit, a green rabbit to match his style, and it had wings. I never gave it a name, though. "Good evening mister Jones! I'm very pleased with the rabbit, I think I shall name him minty, because of his color. Well, enough chit chat, come along." I could talk to him. But after our first exchanges, he wouldn't talk back. I don't think he was ignoring me, he would turn and shake his head or look at me sadly. Something was holding him back.
"Hey, Arthur, how would you think of me making you a mage?" Sad look.
"Arthur, how about we add some dandelions to this place? Do ya like that?" Sad look.
"Arthur, how about I give you a place to live? Like an actual home?" Sad look.
"Arthur, why don't you talk to me?"
And one day, Arthur spoke to me, and it was other than his first greeting.
"Write about us."
/**/
The pen was the ultimate weapon. Not the sword or shield, it was the pen.
But in Arthur's case, the greatest weapon might have been his staff...
'With a smooth stroke of his hand, the young mage let out a furious yell, "You shall go no further! This is where you fall!" The staff in his fine fingers lit up in shades of midnight, the black and purple streaks of light curling like ribbons around the black, wooden staff, crafted from only the finest magic. The green robe kicked around his ankles as the magic built, slowly reaching and spinning to the top of his staff, and a furious scowl rested upon his lips, disgust from the giant, wretched beast before him. The earth dragon's maw was still wrinkled in anger, lava dripping from it's curled lips, but yet eyes wide in a hypnotized stance. The swirling, flickering black magic casted by the young mage locked the dragon in awe, it's claws gripping at the edge of the sandy rocks it stood upon as if about to pounce, but amazement seized the beast. "Media nocte in maledictionem!" Arthur roared, his feet planted firmly into the dirt before letting the energy that had been building go. Almost in an instant, the black and purple rays shot as a beam of pure darkness, seemingly as if the night sky had been trapped inside of it. The great beast roared, it's maw stretching and showing it's glistening teeth as it was hit, and it's head flung back in utter pain. "Nothing shall stand in my way!" Arthur hissed, his pink lips curled as he made sure the magic did not weaken, this was his last obstacle until he made it too the ice kingdom to obtain the one object he needed to save his hometown. Arthur smiled as the dragon started to fall, it's scales shifting on its large body as it moved. He had done it! Arthur was almost at the end of his horrific journey, until-!'
"Mister Jones!"
I dropped the pen with a jump. The words dancing around in my mind as I drew completely disappearing as my pen splattered against a single panel. A few drops of blank ink dripped over a fine drawing of my Arthur, and I shrieked as a response. "Ah! No, ehh.." I completely dismissed the fact that my boss was in the room, my book had a imperfection, and most importantly the imperfection was on a panel with my Arthur. "Don't worry Art, i've got it," I muttered as my fingers scrambled over my desk, finding the small sheet of a paper towel sitting next to my erasers, and dabbed the dots of ink quickly but carefully. With a heavy sigh, I set it back down, "That was a close one..."
"Ahem, mister Jones."
"Oh, um, yeah?" I had completely forgotten my boss was here, and with a swivel of my computer chair I was facing the much taller man, who was now standing in the doorway. His white suit and silver hair, Ivan looked like a businessman. Which, he kind of was, he was the head of a publishing company, more importantly the one I worked with. He was awfully intimidating, but I could get a few laughs into our conversations. "Uh, good evening, mister Braginski," I muttered nervously, but immediately thought of Arthur's greetings and loosened up, "Sorry, just so caught up in writing."
Ivan smiled, his eerily perfect teeth showing between his gentle grin. I swallowed. "I see," He muttered, walked forward a little. Ivan wasn't mean, nor did he yell at any of his workers, he was just... Off. Ivan was off. He was scary. Maybe it was his height, but something about that Russian, snow obsessed weirdo had inspired the main antagonist in my book. "You've been working yourself so much, I think you're starting to lose it, da?"
"Ha, yeah," I muttered with a small, nervous laugh while sinking further into my chair. I don't think anyone truthfully understood my love and dedication for my characters, Arthur especially, they were all very real to me. I knew they weren't actually real, but damn, I loved them. Most of them were based off real people that I cared about, and Arthur had been my childhood friend through it all. I knew once I published my graphic novel, there would have to be a fanbase who would love the characters , maybe not as much as I loved them, but people who understood my passion.
"Arthur's your character's name, correct? I hear you talking to it a lot." Ivan chuckled, and I frowned slightly.
"Him. Talking to him a lot," I corrected him, softly.
Ivan stared at me with not the smallest hint of his previous smile. I swallowed again, but choked out a nervous laughter. Damn, he was scary. "Him, yes," Ivan muttered slowly, but soon returned to his calm nature, "Arthur is very real to you, isn't he?"
"So are all the other's, yeah," I sat up again, stretching out my back. I slouched over my desk almost all day, it felt great to sit up straight again. "But, Arthur especially. He is the main character, after all," I laughed softly, and Ivan let out a single airy chuckle and a nod. His large hands clenched, and I stared at his thick fingers for a few moments before looking back to his piercing violet eyes. I wonder if Ivan knew what it was like to have such an attachment on his characters. I mean, I doubt he understood my obsession with Arthur, but did he have any attachment to his own characters at all? I knew he had made a few books in the past, despite them not being graphic novels like mine. I was thinking of capturing Arthur's world with a normal book, but then I realised my goal was to capture Arthur and his world in an image perfectly, so a graphic novel only seemed right.
"Well," Ivan started, walking forward in my little office space, "The real reason I came in here to talk, your eh, competition."
I furrowed my brow in confusion. Competition? What's that mean? I knew what competition meant, but... "Uh?" I asked, cocking my head to the side while squinting, the perfect sign of confusion.
"Your competition, another worker from a different company whose book is coming out after yours," Ivan said. I didn't see why this was a problem, If there was another book coming out, who cares? I mean, my book was amazing, I've been working on it for the past two years now, and it's only the first in the series. Since Arthur's realm is so real to me, I'm sure it will be created for the readers. Plus, i'm not really doing this for money, i'm doing this to see if others like my stuff as much as I do.
"Why does that matter?" I asked, my tone free of attitude. attitude was something you could not have around Ivan. Nobody knows what would happen when he got mad, but we all knew it was horrid.
"Because, if the competition's book is better, it will out-sell your book." Ivan said with a slight nod. I swallowed.
"And?"
"And your book will be on the five-dollar rack."
"Oh," I muttered. I didn't care about the money as much as the publicity, well, I still cared about money somewhat. I needed that money. My apartment rent needs to be payed, and hopefully this book will be my big break. So yes, I do need the money and I hope I get some from my book, but I want publicity with the money. Since the money came with publicity, I guess it was a two pack deal.
"And then you'll be fired."
"Oh." My eyes widened slightly with that, but I nodded. I really need this company, I really, really need this company on my side. There is no other way i'm going to get my books published. And Arthur didn't deserve to be on the five-dollar rack. "...Well who are you putting me up against?"
"Yao Wang, who is a much better writer than you," Ivan said simply, that small smile still on his face. I nodded and swallowed, beginning to sink down in my chair again. It was a nervous thing I guess. "He is writing a graphic novel as well, and I swear if he beats you on this, Alfred.."
"Yes, yes, m'fired."
"This isn't only your big break, we've been waiting for this book for years, this could be our break too."
"Got it sir, should I uh, get to work?" I said with a small voice. Now, I was the kid in highschool who had been awkward, bulky, and much too annoying. Highschool forced me into this awkward body-language, since I didn't want to hurt or annoy anyone, it just kind of happened. Highschool consisted of apologies, tripping on people, and depending on Arthur for my happiness. My life was somewhat of a mess still, I didn't do much besides my part-time job and making my book. I was an awkward New yorker.
"No," Ivan said, and I immediately nodded in agreement, "You, comrade, should get some rest. You have a week to finish your book, that should be enough time considering how vigorously you've been working." Sleep would be good tonight, hopefully Arthur comes to give me some tips, to make me feel confident. And maybe he'll show me where he's trying to lead me, since i'm finishing his book. Maybe he'll talk to me, even! I started to grow giddy and Ivan's voice was muted out by my strong thoughts, and I began to pack up the book.
"Yes, yeah, yeaah.. Sleep sounds good," I said quietly with a nod, picking my bag up from the floor and neatly plopping the unfinished book inside the expensive bag. I zipped it up with a smile, and I spotted Ivan watch me with a confused but strangely innocent glance.
"Alright, yes," He muttered. I swiveled on my chair, turning around to face him once again and stood up quickly. I was about a half of a head shorter than Ivan, since I was pretty tall. Ivan was huge though, kinda creepy. At least six-foot-seven. "Goodnight, mister Jones..." I bet Ivan thought I was strange. Well he's a weirdo, so why should I care? ...Okay, maybe I care a little.
"Have a good evening, mister Braginski," I said with a small grin while slinging my bag over my arm carefully, making sure that my book was not ruffled or bent, and watched Ivan leave the room first. With a soft sigh, I looked back at the desk I worked for hours at, before turning off the light to my office and leaving, shutting the door behind me. I took the elevator downstairs, before heading into the cold night, the honking horns and bright lights replacing my old home of trees and silence. I moved here when I finished my one year of college. I wanted to be close to my workplace, but damn, I missed that old house. All the fantasies existed there, and if I went back now and saw nothing, I knew I would be disappointed, Despite how much I told myself it wasn't real, I had hope still. I drove to my apartment on my motorcycle for once, in a hurry to get to my bed. In a hurry to be comforted by sleep.
/**/
"Good evening mister Jones."
It was sudden, but I was in the fields, like always. The flowers preventing me from seeing my own feet, the gentle breeze, the sweet scent in the air, all familiar things. The dodger sky swirled with white and welcoming the warm essence of childhood. I took a deep breath as my eyes scanned the pink and red flowers, closing my eyes as a grin spread across my lips. Damn, I love this place. Even if it's not real. I looked up to see the caster of that angelic voice, and my smile doubled, before I saw the frown neatly placed on his fine lips. Arthur never frowned, unless he was giving me that sad look when I asked him a question. "Hey Art," I muttered, "Uhm, something wrong?" I knew I was talking to a figment of my brain, but I didn't care.
I didn't expect a response. But it came. "Alfred," Arthur murmured. I felt myself grow excited with the word, despite the sadness in it, Arthur was talking to me. And for once he was standing still completely.
"My, uh, the first book is almost done," I said somewhat happily, but yet reassuringly. My voice echoed through the empty sky, and Arthur shook his head. I swallowed.
"Yes, yes, I know, i'm very proud of you." Arthur sighed and put on some kind of smile. It didn't looked forced, but it didn't look happy either. I felt myself smile uncontrollably, "You've come a far way, my Alfred. I know how much you're going to need me this week-."
"Yeah, I really am going to need you to be able to help publish this, I mean, you're the main character!" I said, clapping my hands together. Arthur rolled his eyes, a small, more real, smile raising the corners of his lips. I almost breathed a sigh of relief, I didn't like seeing Arthur like this. It was unnerving. Arthur was my fiery, British gentleman who would use heavy vulgarity when he got mad, not a sad, depressed mage.
"I'm sorry, sir," He said, the frown forming once again, taking a step closer to me. I took a few steps towards him as well, but then he froze, and I felt although I had startled him. "But, I'm afraid I won't be coming to visit you any longer." I gawked. What did he mean? Arthur had been appearing in my dreams for fourteen years, and I needed him. And Arthur was somewhat of a part of me, was I getting too old for this stuff, did my brain think I was done with this fairtytail stuff? Arthur was that part of my brain that most people have trouble communicating with, so by casting a character for the role of this part of my brain, it came easier. Or, that's what I think. That's what i've diagnosed Arthur as.
"What do you mean?" It came out as a chuckle. Arthur was kind of a part of me, couldn't I just summon him back up? I mean, sure, I couldn't really get him to do much for me. It was like he was a separate person with his own actions, but i'm sure if I really tried I could summon him back into my dreams.
Arthur sighed again, this time taking a few almost bouncy steps towards me before stopping once again. "I mean, it's erm, complicated," Arthur shook his head as if he were clearing something out of his head. This is when I noticed how pale he looked. Arthur was always pale, but this was different, sickly. Like something had surprised him and the blood drained from his face.
"Am I getting too old for you, or something?" That was a stupid question. I didn't know for sure what Arthur was, and even if he was the part of my brain i've been speaking of, he'd get mad at me either way for referring to him as that. Arthur seemed annoyed for a few seconds but the expression quickly dropped.
"Alfred, sir, if you were 'too old' for me, I would have been gone long ago. You don't control me." I sighed and nodded.
"Yeah, okay. If I did we would be having conversations every night."
Arthur nodded with a small, agreeing glance. It was strange, I recognized every single one of Arthur's facial expressions and could diagnose them to the correct emotion. It was great. "But, sir, you must listen. I won't be here waiting for you any longer."
"Why not?" I had no clue what he was saying. It was confusion, and my maturity getting in the way. If Arthur was talking to five-year-old me, I would be crying.
"Hard to explain, love," Arthur muttered with a small shrug, "I would if I could, but..." I watched Arthur pause. His brow wrinkled in doubt and worry, his eyes trailing away awkwardly for a few moments. His head bowed slightly to the left, his blonde hair gently blowing in front of his eyes in reaction to the warm breeze. Arthur was being awkward, and it, in my eyes, was truly horrifying. Arthur wasn't like that, Arthur wasn't awkward. He was smart, and quick thinking, and never showed weakness. This was unlike him, and I think he knew it too. "I, I just can't explain it. I'm in danger, we're all in danger. I can't, I need to... Augh.." Arthur closed his eyes with a heavy sigh, his straight stature breaking as he slouched forward. The hat shifted frontward on his head and Arthur quickly pushed it back.
"Danger?" I questioned quickly, "What do you mean?"
"I was trying... We were trying to have you save us. But, it didn't work, you and me, we never really got anywhere. And I think it might be his fault, that I can't talk to you, it was too risky, but now it doesn't really matter, and I just... It didn't work. We should have known it wouldn't work. We need you with us, sir." Arthur said, patting the top part of his hat to push it back down onto his head as he straightened out. At this point, I was either going insane, or this was real. These dreams weren't like normal dreams, I felt like I was truly in them. That I was forming thoughts, that I was awake, that my logical thinking interrupted some of it. So, right now, basically Arthur was saying he was in fact real. I wanted to beileve he was real, I wanted to protect my childhood friend, but it didn't make any sense. Arthur can't be real.
"Woah, wait a second," I muttered, taking a step to steady myself. Arthur sounded too frantic, I almost felt unstable with this. I felt physically sick, something was wrong. Maybe I'm coming down with a cold in the real world and I'm sensing it in sleep...
"Al- Sir, please, listen," Arthur stuttered quickly. Both of us then froze, I took a great gulp before both of us went silent. Arthur stared at me with those green, perfect eyes. He looked as if he was going to step forward again, then he looked back, than forward. Like he was considering something. He bit his lip, and I stared carefully at everyone of his strange movements.
Then for the first time, Arthur ran towards me, through the flowers, and jumped into my arms.
I uncontrollably gasped, feeling those skinny arms wrap around my torso, those frail hands pull at my shirt. His nose rested on my shoulder, that silk tophat brushing against the sides of me face. And it was all so real. It felt like everything I thought hugging Arthur would feel like, but better. My arms slowly slipped around his small body, pulling him closer in enjoyment of the first contact we had ever had. I felt the strong need to protect him, my strong mage now shaking in my arms. But he wasn't real, he couldn't be real, yet he was so real. I just silently held him close, without a single word, and enjoyed the strange warmth coming from the other. His head lifted off my shoulder briefly but slowly, as if he was being cautious, and he exchanged with me the last few words I would hear coming from him in my dream world;
"Find us. Find me."
/**/
I still remembered that whisper for the rest of the day. The way it tickled my earth, Arthur's breath still dancing across it. I could feel his warmth press against me, and I swore I could feel the silk tophat rub against my temple. His gentle grasp on my shirt haunted me for the rest of the day. I knew what I needed to do, no question, but my main question was if I should do it. I walked to work like a zombie, not bothering to grab an umbrella as the rain poured down my thick hair. Some drops of water soaked my bangs and made the water drip into my eyes. My glasses fogged up multiple times, I never enjoyed the rain, but it was common in the city so I bared with it.
Today wasn't a good morning, or a day. When I woke up I felt sick and tired, no coffee could get my body out of that slump. And once I limped through the rain at six in the morning, I couldn't bother to be bothered by anything else. Also, today was the day that 'my competition' came to meet me, to my surprise Just great.
I didn't feel like working on my book. For once, I didn't feel like doing anything. I just wanted to curl up on my couch, watch TV and drink chocolate milk, take a nap. But yet some part of my body was telling me to drive to my old home and hike up that huge mountain and go find Arthur.
And the worse part was my brain wasn't even thinking of anything useful, I was thinking about how exhausted I was and how much I wanted a caramel cappuccino. And there I was, walking around in the publishing company, being lead to my competition, my brain whining about getting a fifth coffee and my heart telling me to go find Arthur.
Soon I was face to face with my 'competition' at seven in the morning. Yao Wang was definitely Asain, he had a businessman composure with a long, brunette ponytail. He wore some kind of black, silver button up shirt with a silver dragon printed on the side. He looked really professional, while there was me and my messed up, soaking wet mop of honey-colored hair, batman t-shirt and old, red fleece sweater that said 'USA' across it.
"Nice to meet you," Were his first words he said to me, raising an eyebrow at my unruly appearance, but he held out a hand for me to shake it. I took a few moments, still a little confused and drowsy, but shook his hand after a few moments.
"Same to you," I murmured in a slur, trying not to look like someone who had stayed up on tumblr all night and had drank five coffees. "Mister, eh, Yao, right?"
"Correct, you're Alfred, right?"
"Mhmm..." I started to nod off quickly. I licked my lips briefly, that disgusting 'morning taste' stuck in the back of my throat. My eyes fluttered closed for a few seconds until I got a hard, slap on the back. I whimpered, lurching forward slightly as my eyes popped open. I rubbed my back as I straightened back up, the giver of the slap being Ivan. I frowned with a quiet, airy moan. "Sorry. Having one of those mornings," I said in a whisper. Ivan gave me a quick glare. So, what was I supposed to be doing? Say hi or something...?
"Well, I hope your book, erm, sells," Yao said quietly. I nodded.
"Same to yours," I clicked my lips briefly, and then Yao left. Ivan quickly followed him after giving me a quick elbow to the ribs. Nothing painful, just more of a reminder to be more awake. With a powerful yawn I began to make my way to get another, bitter coffee from the main office.
I sat down for what seemed like a few hours, quietly sipping on my coffee, not feeling like writing my book. I felt drained, completely drained and sick and done. I just want to have a relax day, but yet I know if I do go up to the mountain and look for Arthur i'll feel better. But i'm not, too much work to find nothing... I stirred my coffee cup with a straw briefly before continuing to sip at it.
"Mister Jones," I heard the quiet yell and perked up, lifting my head up slowly to turn and look over my shoulder. It wasn't angry, just getting my attention. It was Ivan, who now had his own coffee in his hands.
"Oh hey..." I murmured in a slur, "Sorry sir, i'm not feeling very well today." Ivan should understand that, maybe he can send me home.
"Could tell," Ivan said with a quiet snort, walking up to the table I sat at. I looked up at him for a few moments before putting my chin on the table.
"I'm not sick or anything," I added, lifting a hand to rub a tired eye, "I think i'm just tired." Ivan nodded slowly.
"Did you not sleep well, comrade?" Ivan said, cocking his head to the side, "You embarrassed our company in front of our main competition, as well." Ivan definitely was not afraid to say anything. He was very... Erm, honest.
"Yeah, sorry... Weird nightmares, just not, bleh..." I sighed, using both hands to rub my face briefly. Coffee wasn't helping me wake up, but the warmth and bitter taste from the drink was somewhat comforting. I really wish carmel was a choice here to place in our coffee, though. Love that stuff...
"Do you want to take the day off? I don't want you mucking around to embarrass our guests." I swallowed another gulp of coffee and nodded, the day off sounded great, but I didn't want to walk home. I wish I brought my motorcycle... Oh well, maybe I can take a cab home. But once I get home maybe I can slide in a copy of the Hunger Games, oh, love that movie. And then I can stop by the starbucks near my house, make some pasta... Oh yeah, that sounds nice. "You'll come in tomorrow, da?"
"Yeah," I said once the sip of coffee I took was going down my throat, "I'll make sure to get plenty of rest, to be ready for tomorrow." I grinned gently, Ivan nodded and smiled.
"Good, we don't want a zombie author walking around, da?" I nodded in agreement, sighing in slight relief.
Yay, day off.
/**/
Being home was a relief. It was great being in my warm little apartment. I ended up taking a cab home, I didn't want to get too soaked, but I ended up getting a little wet from the run from the cab to the apartment building. By this point I forgot about my crave for a cappuccino and ran straight to my room to put on sweatpants. I stretched, relaxed my shoulders, let my eyes droop, let all the yawns come out. I took out some sweatpants, taking off my jeans and slipping on the light green sweatpants instead. Took off my shirt and socks and plopped down on my bed with a heavy sigh. "Home, sweet home," I murmured, slowly closing my eyes. But upon fully closing them, Arthur's last words to me haunted me. As if he were there, whispering them in my ear with such a weakness and fear made my eyes pop open once again. Arthur was in.. Danger? He couldn't be in danger, he wasn't real. He went through dangerous adventures in my stories, but that was different, I wasn't putting him in real danger. Arthur couldn't go through real danger, that couldn't be possible.
I sat up again, stretching out my arm with a frown. My eyes lazily scanned the room, and I let out a sigh I didn't know I had been compressing. I cocked my head as my eyes caught glimpse of an emerald green object, sitting behind my dresser, just a small portion of it peeking out. I jumped off my bed, the structure creaking quietly, and padded over to the object on the floor. I bent over to pick it up, funny, it was the same color as Arthur's-..
Arthur's tophat. The emerald green, silk material perfectly crafted to match the one the man from my dreams wore. The black ribbon wrapped around the base of it neatly made and tightly wrapped around the hat permanently. My eyes doubled in size upon seeing it, it was Arthur's tophat. I could have been the only person who could make this, the finest details ones that only I could have known about, the problem being with that that I wasn't good with making things like this. It was so perfect, so neat, nothing my hands could have made. My heart slowly started to pound, the shock starting to register. But if it was Arthur's, then why the hell was it here...? No, no, i'm talking nonsense! This can't be his, it can't be real. And if it is real, it's not his.
That's when I saw the paper neatly pinched between the hat and the ribbon. I slid it out with a gentle tug, flipping it over to read it. It was definitely written in a fountain pen, with the neatest hand writing I had ever seen. I slowly read it, and as each syllable registered in my mind, I could feel my heart speed up.
Find Me. ~ A.K.
Before I knew it, I had pushed on my combat boots, normal hiking pants and my bombers jacket, grabbed the top hat to return to Arthur, and was speeding through the NYC streets on my motorcycle. I needed no map or GPS, because I knew exactly where I was going. I would never, ever forget the house of my childhood, and the mountain where my dreams existed.
Authors Note_
My second story, yaay ^^ My bud Germansheppies has been a great help with spellcheck, so make sure to give her a holler! But still, even with the both of us, some errors slip through, so just bare with us.
But here is my fantasy story. I've been wanting to write something like this for ages, so ta da, here it is! I've worked rather hard on the story line, and yes, it will get more exciting and more 'fantasy-y'. Alfred's awkward, Arthur's smooth as fuck, and Ivan is... Well, Ivan.
My apologies if Ivan isn't... 'creepy' enough. After inspection of the show (since I needed to re-watch it, haven't had a good Hetalia spree in a while)), Russia is calm most of the time. He's not completely crazy, he's just calm, but is an innocent form of a jerk. Since he's not afraid to do or say some things. I also wanted to make him more realistic and not complete 'da, comrade, Russian language, blah' stuff. And with shorter character appearances (like Arthur and Yao, they weren't around very long in this chapter)) I don't have enough room to characterize. Sorry if Arthur and Yao seem OOC for this first one, they're not around much in this chapter and therefor its harder for me to jam more characteristics in.
Also, Alfred probably lived in upstate newyork UwU! About future stuff for this story, Ivan, Kiku, Yao, Matthew, Ludwig, and basically most of the main characters are going to be in this. I'm not going to use as many OCs as normal, since I'll have a lot of characters to work with under a fantasy theme. And not all of them are going to be human *evil laughter*. ((Kiku'sgonnabeareindeer)
So, hope you enjoyed the first chapter ^^ Reviews are highly appreciated, and please don't be shy to post one, we're all buddies here UwU! I'm planning on this to be a long one. I'll go get to work on Truth About Forever now heheh..