I know, I know. I really shouldn't be starting another story when I've already got one up and running, and little time to spare. *sighs* I'm very sorry. This idea just came to me though, and I felt an urge to act upon it. Plus, school and stress has been piling up lately and I've been completely lacking inspiration for Stars in Dystopia. I'm sorry.
Warning: Rated T for language.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I mean, who do you think I am? A Japanese man named Hidekaz Himaruya? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you've got the wrong person, buddy. I am a broke student. And believe me, you do now want me to own Hetalia.
The S.T.E.A.M. Team
Chapter 1
Arthur knew that he'd come to regret insulting that girl's intelligence when she offered to help him on his final project.
He regretted the words that had come out of his mouth from the moment that he said them, and had seen her turn away on her heel, obviously upset, and disappear from that library like a ghost in the wind.
To be fair, she had disrupted his quiet area of study. He had been trying to gather information for his final project, and she had disturbed that peaceful serenity, chattering about how she could help him if he'd like.
He'd recoiled and sprung back in an instant, as if a cockroach had scrambled frantically over his boot, and spat out that he'd be surprised if a "loud, ignorant, American like herself" could help him with 3rd grade multiplication, let alone college-level engineering in robotics and AI, crushing that little roach under his foot.
She'd pulled back, hurt, the bitter slap and sting of his words having hit her hard, and she retreated from that scene quicker than a spooked horse and quieter than a mouse.
Which brought him to now, after the guilt had set in, sitting in his chair, the sudden spike of adrenaline worn off, staring at his books, and chewing on the end of his pencil eraser nervously.
He did need the help, not that he'd ever admit it.
"Yo! Yo! Are you even listening to me?" His attention snapped forward, and he inwardly groaned, staring at the loud Pole who had no sense of what a "library's silence" was meant to sound like.
It certainly wasn't supposed to include yelling.
"Keep it down won't you?" He tried to bite back the sarcastic, sharp edge to his words, but failed in trying.
Feliks frowned down at Arthur, but sighed and lowered his voice as the nearby, now-disturbed students glared at him.
"Why didn't you accept her help? I thought you said that you needed help with you final project?"
"Because I wouldn't put past that American idiot not knowing her left side from her right, let alone being able to help me in this-" Arthur swept his hand towards his scattered, fruitless research as he hissed under his breath.
Feliks choked on air.
"American idiot-" He coughed mid-laugh, then looked up at Arthur.
"Please tell me you're joking."
"No. Why would I be?"
"Good god, Arthur, I get that you're still fairly new here, what with transferring from a school in the UK to a school here in America, but have you seriously never heard about this girl before?"
"No. I've seen her around the campus before, mostly being loud and annoying and just plain distracting. I mean, does she even go here? And why, should I have heard of her?"
Feliks dropped his face into his hands. "Right. Okay. You know what, you'll just have to learn the hard way."
Arthur cocked his head at his friend curiously. "Learn what the hard way?"
Feliks sighed, obviously upset. "You'll have to see. So, where are you going to go for help?"
"I'm thinking the S.T.E.A.M. Laboratories. They sometimes help students with high enough marks, right?"
Feliks choked on air again, coughing. "Okay. Have fun with that." His voice held a slight sharp edge, lacking whatever humor and valley-girl accent that it had pertained earlier.
Arthur stared, confused. "Is there something that I should know?"
"Nope. You'll learn on your own. Look, when you go to the laboratory, ask for Diana specifically, you know, that Lithuanian friend of mine that I introduced you to a few weeks ago? Ask for Diana, tell her that Feliks sends his regards, and she might be able to help you. Good luck." Shooting one last glance and a nervous cough, Feliks strutted out of the library, leaving Arthur to stare confused at the spot where he had once stood.
. . .
Arthur stood in front of the doors of the S.T.E.A.M. Laboratories, questioning whether or not to go in after the nervous manner that Feliks had exhibited.
Luckily, or perhaps unluckily enough for him, the doors answered that question easily enough for him as the blonde-haired girl from earlier swung open the doors. She was wearing a white lab coat stitched with colorful Tetris-looking blocks piled on top of eachother, her name tag glinting in the light that the laboratory was emitting.
Amelia Foster Jones.
Her gaze meeting his, she stopped, stock-still, frozen like a deer in the headlights, before she backtracked, turned on her heel angrily, and slammed the doors in his face, her long braid whipping around and swinging after her.
He stood outside the now-locked laboratory doors, completely numb.
Oh god.
He had insulted Amelia-fucking-Jones.
The Amelia Jones.
He was fucking screwed.
A/N: *laughs happily* You know that exhilaration and the high you sometimes get after you finish writing something? The on-top-of-the-world-I-can-do-anything high? Yeah, that's what I'm on right now. Anyway, onto the actual notes...
REALLY IMPORTANT NOTE ABOUT THIS STORY: Unlike Stars in Dystopia, I have no idea where I'm going with this. I have not outlined the plot ahead of time. This is literally something that I had the idea for today and decided to act upon because I had access to my laptop within a hand's reach. As such, you might see a lot of editing of chapters in-between updates as I gain a more solid idea of where I want to go with this. Apologies in advance!
For those of you who don't know, S.T.E.A.M. refers to Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, and Math. Similar to S.T.E.M, the only difference between S.T.E.A.M. and S.T.E.M. is that S.T.E.A.M. includes the arts while S.T.E.M. does not.
In this AU, I aged America and Canada up into being 21 instead of 19. Because of this age difference, I decided to give America super-long hair that is normally pulled back into a braid that typically stretches down below her hips, just because I could. And also because I like the idea of America having super-long braids.
In this AU, America's middle name is Foster. This was the middle name that Hima originally intended for her to have, but he left it open-ended, so sometimes people opt to use Franklin, Freedom, hell, even Fuck as his/her middle name, but I just went with Foster here.
In this AU, I'm going to be portraying both America and Canada as basically super-geniuses. You'll see more of this later. I'll be trying to still keep them both in character though, America in particular, the only difference is that I'm going out of my way as to portray them (once again, America in particular) as smart, not stupid.
Also, this was inspired by a visit that I made to a nearby Steammaker facility that I visited on a trip because I'm going to be participating in a prescore-thing on behalf of my school along with a few other students. I'll probably talk more about the actual facility more in later A/Ns, but all you need to know for now is that the laboratory is modeled off of the actual one that I visited.
As always, please leave a review if you liked this. I'm begging ya'll here. I need feedback. When I'm writing something, there is nothing more discouraging than looking at the traffic graph and seeing how many people are reading my stories but how little people are reviewing. Honestly, it terrifies me when I don't get a lot of reviews because my mind's instant response is to wonder if I'm doing something wrong, if people don't like my story, or if people just don't care enough about it to review. Nothing is more discouraging, especially when the visitor numbers pile up and the gap between the visitor to review ratio grows into an even bigger rift. So, please, please review, because there is nothing more humanly discouraging than a lack of feedback from the author's audience. I'm sorry for the long-ass tirade.
And on topic of Stars in Dystopia: I'm trying. I have ideas, but no inspiration to actually write it. I've suffered various breakdowns, multiple panic attacks, and now I completely lack the energy to update that story. I'm trying, I swear, but updates for that will be slow and sporadic but occurring. I'm so sorry. I started this story to try and recover my actual will to write, which I'm kind of doing- kind of. *sighs unhappily* Once again, I'm so sorry. On a brighter note, I am on Thanksgiving break right now, so I'll probably have more time to update and hopefully will have the opportunity to do so. But thank you for putting up with my bullshit! I know I'm a shitty person. I'm trying to work on it.