I'm, like, back in the Hetalia fandom. Soooo…this story is going to be a mix of historical and AU elements, and I'm going to try for maybe-pairings here too. The title is a reference to a phrase often used to describe the 19th century imperialistic British Empire, which is actually literal, because the British Empire and all of its colonies covered so vast an area that it was always daytime in some British-owned place. Scary huh? The British Empire was also the biggest empire in recorded history. (Points for Iggy.) Anyway, the "Roman Empire" in this story is basically a combination of all the worst governments/nations/regimes in our history –its leaders and governmental body being all sexist, corrupt, violent, cruel, so on and so forth. (This is also obviously an AU, since it's going to be all future-istic-y too.) And about the Aureus, their racial type (and the Hetalia characters that are Aureus) are basically a conglomerate of the Nordic and East Europeans, who always seem to get the worst of things in wars and hostile regimes (see Nazism and pretty-much-any-European-conflict-ever). Check out the chart at the bottom for the human names of the countries if you don't know who's who.
February 28, 2016
3rd Person POV:
Whrrm.
Whrrm.
Whrrrrrrm.
"Ah, c'mon man, how long is this gonna take?!"
Arthur Kirkland's eyes opened sleepily as he lifted his head slightly from the smooth glass window, the blurry colors that filled his vision resolving into the transport's interior. The bulkhead of the sealed transport was some kind of strong grey metal, and the cabin that he was in had just enough room for two padded seats; one for him, and one for-
Arthur's (perfectly proportioned, thank you very much) eyebrows slammed downwards irritably as he recognized the speaker opposite him –and their voice. "Just my luck that I'd get placed in a unit with you." he said grouchily, watching the other young blonde practically bouncing up and down in his seat with barely-suppressed energy.
"Dude, aren't you excited?" Alfred F. Jones, Arthur's former neighbor, current best friend, and personal nuisance asked excitedly, using a finger to push his square-rimmed glasses up as his sapphire-colored eyes sparkled. "We finally get to go out on base training!"
Arthur snorted silently and looked back out of the window. The grey, dead fields that the transport vehicle had driven into several hours ago were still there, the trees hard and bare, and the ground covered in soot, ash, and rolling craters. A few limp strands of grass struggled to burst out of the rocky plain, but were ultimately doomed to failure. Arthur could feel his spirits sink just looking at what would be their surroundings for the next few years, which was partially the reason he had fallen asleep earlier.
"If this is the kind of excitement we'll get, I think I'd prefer staying at home." he muttered, turning his head away from the depressing view. "We're too close to the blasted mountains and their-" He cut himself off, watching silently as an Aureus, distinctive with the crescent-moon forehead brand, entered their cabin and began picking up discarded fast-food bags and candy wrappers that had most likely come from Alfred. Arthur's lip curled as he watched it. "My point exactly. Why is that here?" he spat.
Alfred barely glanced to the side as the Aureus began dusting off the table that sat between him and Arthur. "What, you prefer a 'bot to do the work?" he teased, ripping the top off of an energy drink and chugging it as the Aureus finished and continued cleaning up. "Cause they can't do this." he added as he carelessly tossed the garbage over his shoulder, and the Aureus silently caught it, placing it in their collection bag.
Arthur gave the Aureus –a thin young woman with hollow eyes and dirty, matted hair– a deeply irritated look. "I don't see why the government can't keep them in the mines or the factories where they belong." he scoffed, folding his arms, and Alfred shrugged.
"Well, you're gonna have to get used to them." he said with a serious expression, a rarity for him, and Arthur raised an eyebrow, making the other elaborate. "They're gonna be working for us in the base –the compound. This is like right at the edge of civilization, remember? We can't be expected to cook n' clean n' shit while learning to fight, right?" Alfred asked rhetorically, resting his cheek on one hand. Arthur sniffed, but had to agree. There were far more important things to do than maintain his food and possessions; his future was in that base, as was Alfred's.
"Didja get your ranking yet?" Alfred asked suddenly, and excitedly rummaged around his white button-down shirt, yanking out his chain and dog tag and practically shoving it up Arthur's nose. "I got mine, see! Isn't it awesome?!"
"Sod off! I can't bloody see it like this!" Arthur snapped, grabbing Alfred's wrist and shoving backwards until he could actually get a proper look at the tag. His eyebrows rose as he considered it.
ALFRED F. JONES
AGE: 19
RANK: Soldier
UNIT: Division 23564
Bollocks, we are in the same squad. Arthur thought, subconsciously slipping a hand inside his pocket to grip his own tag, smoothing his thumb over the flat metal. "So? Wadda ya think?" Alfred asked excitedly, and Arthur clicked his tongue incredulously.
"How did you finagle Soldier with that horrendous sight of yours?" he asked, indicating Alfred's square-rimmed glasses, and the latter touched them reflexively, his face pinkening.
"W-well, the new Texas model is really hard to knock off." he stuttered, then set his jaw defiantly. "Besides, the idea is to shoot the other guy before he gets close enough to touch your glasses. What's your rank?"
Arthur silently took his hand from his pocket and held out his own identification tag. Alfred took it, his blue eyes shifting slightly as he read the raised letters, then snorted with laughter and let it drop to the table, where it clattered loudly against the smooth metal.
ARTHUR J. KIRKLAND
AGE: 20
RANK: Intelligence
UNIT: Division 23564
"Intelligence?!" he howled, rocking back and forth and slapping the table with one hand. "You got landed in Intelligence! Y-you're a cheating, no-good, plotting an' planning s-spy!" he cackled, convulsing with more laughter. Arthur scowled at the other man and primly hung the tag back around his own neck.
"There's nothing wrong with being an Intelligence rank." he sniffed as Alfred showed no signs of recovery, still laughing his irritating, obnoxious arse off. "They can rise quite high in the ranks of our noble government."
"But not as high as Soldier." Alfred said quietly, as he abruptly grew serious. "Soldiers can rise to the top." Pure ambition gleamed in those sapphire blue eyes as Alfred looked at Arthur and grinned ferally.
"Soldiers can rise to the top."
Whrrm.
Whrrm.
Whrrrrrrm.
Creak.
Creak.
Creak.
"Gilbert, please stop fidgeting." Ludwig said with less-than-infinite patience, lowering the tablet he had been reading as his elder –his elder– brother continued to rock back and forth, gently drumming his closed fists on the table, anxiously tapping his fingers against the window.
"I can't help it." Gilbert whined, his crimson eyes half-lidded with impatience and irritation. "You're not the one who's threatened with conformity or death."
Ludwig sighed loudly, but couldn't help but (silently) agree with his father. Gilbert needed to be reigned in before he did something dangerous; the most recent familial outrage had been when Gilbert was caught at a party with Aureus and the other dregs of society, drinking and laughing, and their father had had to pay an exorbitant amount of money to avoid public scandal. "Did it ever occur to you that you could oh, I don't know, find somewhere else to have a celebration?" he asked wearily, almost afraid of the answer he would get.
Gilbert laughed the odd, hissing laugh he was known for, baring his teeth in a friendly grin. "Aw, the Aureus aren't that bad." he said casually, kicking his legs up on the table between them. "They sure don't have sticks up their asses like you und Vati."
Ludwig contented himself with a disapproving grunt, frowning at his sibling. He felt as if it were his job as the son of Folkert Beilschmidt to remind his elder brother of the place they had in society, but Gilbert, as usual, would probably ignore his advice. He watched as Gilbert continued to fidget, his crimson eyes glaring out at the countryside through the thin curtain of his silver-blonde bangs as his fingers tapped a restless tempo against his bouncing leg. For some reason, Ludwig's normally militant-minded brother was subdued at the thought of attending the military academy they were traveling to at this very moment; he'd been acting like the tag around his neck was some kind of collar. Ludwig cast a surreptitious look at the dog tag around Gilbert's neck, glimmering slightly in the sickly green light of the overhead.
GILBERT K. BEILSCHMIDT:
AGE: 21
UNIT: Soldier
RANK: Division 23564
"What's your division?" Gilbert suddenly asked, his startling crimson gaze switching over to Ludwig, almost as if he had sensed his brother's curiosity. Ludwig coughed sheepishly, pulling his own tag out from amongst the folds of his shirt.
LUDWIG H. BEILSCHMIDT:
AGE: 20
RANK: Soldier
UNIT: Division 37564
"So we're not in the same unit?" Gilbert asked as he studied Ludwig's tag, getting a suspicious and very familiar gleam in his ruby-red eyes. Ludwig impulsively reached out and grabbed his brother by the shoulder.
"Please. Don't cause any trouble." he pleaded, and Gilbert's eyes flickered with something unreadable, before he dipped his head slightly, hiding them as he gave another one of his unique, hissing chuckles.
"Don't worry Bruder, I'll be as good as gold."
Luke ducked and dodged the multiple other residents as he headed for the station pickup point, lugging a portal case behind him. His indigo eyes raked the crowd, looking for the easiest opening, and he took it ruthlessly, shoving other people aside using both elbows and his unnaturally-light case, heading for the large glowing military symbol. The huge, sluggish transport vehicle honked loudly, and he cursed under his breath as he ran up to it, throwing his portal case up towards the Aureus and plunging inside the transport just as the doors hissed shut behind him.
He took a moment to pant quietly in the semidarkness, carefully rearranging his bangs and the little t-shaped barrette on one side, and let his heart slow as he rapidly composed himself. Artfully neutral expression in place once more, he pushed open the first door he saw, noticing as he did that the cabin was already occupied by three other people. All of them had varying shades of dark brown hair, and Luke suppressed the urge to run a hand protectively over his own white-block locks. Two of the brunettes seemed very cheery, talking to each other in loud, southern-sea accents, and the third seemed to be asleep, head nodding softly against the vibrating glass panes that gave them a view of the station.
"Is there room?" Luke asked quietly, and the two conscious brunettes stopped chatting and looked up. One, with slightly auburn-brownish hair and an odd side-cowlick, smiled widely, his eyes sparkling. "Vee~, of course! My name's Feliciano, and this is my new friend Antonio!" he said cheerfully, and the aforementioned Antonio, whose hair was slightly darker and curlier than Feliciano's, gave Luke a friendly wave and nodded to the seat opposite of himself and Feliciano, upon which the third male was sleeping. "Hola mi amigo! You can sit down by Karl, over there!" he said happily, and Luke silently took his seat, heaving a mental sigh of relief as the transport finally jolted into motion and the smooth, ruler-edged buildings began to whiz by.
"I'm-a going to be a Nurse, and Antonio's going to be a Soldier!" Feliciano babbled proudly, thrusting out his slightly skinny chest, upon which his shiny new tag glittered metallically. Luke glanced to the side, which Antonio noticed. Feliciano remained oblivious, which seemed to be his natural state.
"Karl over there is going to be a Scout." Antonio explained, smiling gently, and cocked his head to one side as his emerald green eyes landed on Luke's chest. "And what about you, amigo?" he asked curiously, indicating Luke's tag, and he subconsciously covered it. "My name is Luke. I'm an Intelligence rank." he said flatly, and was surprised when the other two didn't shift or sweat. Intelligence agents were famous for being ruthless, evil, and backstabbing, despite –or because of– their frequent role as advisors to those in power.
"Vee~, you must be pretty smart." was all Feliciano said, and Antonio merely smiled politely, his eyes closed. Luke hadn't really needed the introduction to figure out Antonio's rank, at least; he had the build typical of most soldiers –muscular and athletic-looking, without any surplus fat or health defects. Luke was somewhat surprised at Feliciano's chosen field though; the Nurse rank was the rank that preformed all the complex surgeries and bloody vivisections that restored their comrades to full health, and the bubbly young man kitty-corner to him seemed likely to faint at the very sight of blood, nevermind, say, having to amputate another man's leg or suture his stomach shut.
Well, to each his own.
"Vee~! Let's see what our-a units are!" Feliciano suddenly chirped excitedly, holding out his tag, and Antonio and Luke mirrored him. Luke held his tag in a certain way, his thumb covering his last name, but that was perfectly normal. It wasn't like any of them had anything to hide.
LUKE C. B(thumb):
AGE: 20
RANK: Intelligence
UNIT: Division 37564
.
ANTONIO F. CARRIEDO
AGE: 20
RANK: Soldier
UNIT: Division 37564
.
FELICIANO R. VARGAS
AGE: 19
RANK: Nurse
UNIT: Division 23564
"Vee," Feliciano said sadly, his lower lip sticking out in a pout as his eyes abruptly filled with tears. "You two are in the same unit and I'm-a all by myself."
"Eh, we're all in the same base, mi amigo." Antonio said happily, folding his arms behind his head, and Luke looked sideways slightly, checking the tag of the still-sleeping Karl.
KARL M. HEOHIL:
AGE: 19
RANK: Scout
UNIT: Division 23564
"He's in the same division you are." he announced blandly, and Feliciano's face abruptly brightened as he let out a "vee" of joy and began babbling again.
Luke turned his head, and watched the city fly by.
1.51 PM, USA Central Time
(Everyone's middle name (except America's) are all made up, as anybody in the fandom would know)
Alfred Foster Jones: America
Antonio Fernandez Carriedo: Spain
Arthur James Kirkland: England
Feliciano Romulus Vargas: North Italy.
Francis Christopher Bonnerfoy: France
Gilbert Kriegson Beilschmidt: Prussia
Heracles Theo Karpusi: Greece.
Honda Kiku: Japan. (Japanese people also, apparently, don't typically have middle names.)
Ivan Viktor Braginsky: Russia
Karl Marks Heohil: OC
Lovino Romano Vargas: South Italy/Romano.
Ludwig Hans Beilschmidt: Germany
Luke Charles Bondevik: Norway. (I know his name is typically Lukas, but trust me, there's a reason he isn't Lukas yet.)
Matthew Leon Williams: Canada.
Sadiq Tel Adnan: Turkey.
Wang Yao: China. (Chinese people traditionally don't have middle names.)