Okay, so the last thing I need to be doing is starting a new series. But this is validated by the fact that it just needs to happen or I'm going to go insane. ANYWAY, welcome to my Hetalia parody of the musical 'Mamma Mia.'
(This is going to be a really long author's note, you can probably skim most of it. Just don't complain later about something clearly stated in here, kay?)
Before we get to the story, there're a few details about this you probably need to know:
-This IN NO WAY is going to exactly follow the original plot, nor am I including the songs (or at least, not most of them). One of the original ideas was to title each chapter as a song title, but there are 24 of them, and I'm not too sure they'd split equally. In fact, I think it'd be choppy and obnoxious. So we're not going to do that. But, regarding the plot, I've taken the basic idea and twisted it around a bit to fit the characters.
-Whenever possible, I'll use human names. If not possible, I'll probably use whatever name comes to mind / is used fairly often. Don't worry, I'll tell you who's who.
-You might not agree with some of my choices for who's who. Hopefully my reasoning will become clear, but if it doesn't... feel free to ask.
-Ages may seem a little funky. That's because – for once – I'm kinda following Mamma Mia's cannon (Feli is 20) and staging everyone else's ages off that. So it's kinda separated into an 'older' and a 'younger' generation.
-Gender-bender bothers me. Everyone will be their original gender, and I'm not changing anything to match Mamma Mia cannon. … That said, I'm not sure if it gay marriages actually are legal in Greece. Hmmm…
-THERE WILL DEFFINATELY BE YAOI AND HET IN THIS FIC. IF THAT IN ANYWAY BOTHERS YOU, I'M SORRY, BUT IT'S NOT CHANGING. Feel free to write your own version or something. You can just click the back button, not yell at me about my choice of pairings, and go find something else more to your tastes.
-If, on the other hand, there is a character/pairing you wanted to see that you're not seeing, say something! You may have to help me come up with a spot for them, but there's a decent chance they can make at least a brief appearance! (I will, incidentally, tell you if I've got something else planned for them…)
-I like languages, and I'm going to try and use snippits of them a lot (translations will always be found at the bottom, unless it's something REALLY basic or I've used it a few times before). The flip side f this is that I tend to butcher accents when I try and write them, so… I'll try, but beware and tell me if anything sound's off to you, kay?
-I may throw some history and/or current events in, because it's fun, but this is not a historic fic, unless I've said otherwise at any point.
-I'm human, I make mistakes, please correct me where necessary.
I think that's all you need to know. Ask if you need any answers or anything, okay? Okay.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia Axis Powers OR Mamma Mia OR any of the songs from Mamma Mia. Pity.
***#Prolouge#****
Soft humming came from the figure by the mailbox. Illuminated only faintly by a flickering streetlight and the moon, they dropped three letters, one by one, into the box, smiling.
Thump. "Gilbert Beilscmidt…"
Thump. "…Kiku Honda…"
Thump. "…and Roderich Edelstein…"
Practically skipping, the figure made it's way to a rowboat that was tied up a few meters away from the street, bobbing gently in the ocean. Pausing as they pushed off, they turned back toward the mainland – and the mailbox – and softly added a whispered "Bouna fortuna…"
***##***
"Junk, junk, bill, junk, bill, bank statement, for Lilli, junk, bill, junk, for Roderich, bill… Wait, what?" Vash Zwingli quickly flipped back through the letters he'd already sorted, coming to what looked to be a wedding invitation, complete with ornate lettering and fancy paper. A waste of money, that paper, but as Lilli would have pointed out: Weddings – ideally – only come once.
Still, there was no reason it should have been here. Just because they lived across the street from each other was no excuse for the post office to mess up. And they did, fairly often in fact. It was the third time in the past two months that something for the Austrian had shown up at the Swiss man's house, which was frustrating because it meant he had to deliver it, which involved talking to Roderich, which he generally tried to avoid.
He could probably just send Lilli – she was much better at the whole 'being sociable' thing than he was – but what if something happened? It would have been his fault.
Grumbling, he grabbed the letter and his boots and made the 15-meter trip from his front door to Roderich's.
Predictably for the music-lover, the doorbell played several bars of 'Ode to Joy' as opposed to simply ringing. When the brunet finally answered the door, Vash shoved the letter in his face, spun on his heel and, not even checking to make sure the other had actually managed to grab the envelope, walked back across the street.
Bemused, Roderich watched the door slam behind the much shorter blond, envelope saved from the ground only by a faint grip on the corner and far too much practice at this. Deciding not to worry too much about it, he opened the expensive-looking letter and skimmed over the contents.
Half an hour later found him frantically attempting to book a flight for Greece.
***##***
Gilbert sighed and plopped down at a table in a random café, chosen for the simple facts that it was on his way and had decent lighting, and removed the satchel he'd been carrying on his shoulder.
One of the major downsides of being a travel writer was that it was a pain to receive mail. And even more of a pain to go through it, since his editor expected him to write some kind of reply to each and every piece of fan mail, even if it was just a post-card with 'Thanks' scribbled on it.
Absently, he ordered a black coffee and began to go through the mountain of envelopes before him.
Upon reaching a rather decorative envelope, he opened it and read it's contents. Then he read it again. Then he stood up, dug in his pocket, left a few euros on the table next to the half-drunk coffee, and ran off to find his editor and get her to let him plan a different trip.
***##***
The letter written in English and with a postage stamp from Greece was the one to catch his eye. It stood out easily among the rest of the mail, with it's careful script and expensive paper.
Opening it, Kiku idly wondered why it was decorated so differently from the letters he typically got with Greek postage stamps. When he got his answer, he had to pause for a moment, then read it again, just to make sure.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. It would take a few hours to arrange things, and flights from Japan to practically anywhere where fairly long. He'd have to begin immediately.
***##***
Bouna fortuna - Italian - 'Good luck'
Really short introduction, and I apologize. The other chapters will be longer, hopefully.