Hello! This fan fiction will involve WWI, Fairy Tail style. I don't mean anything I might write, I have nothing against any race, nor religion at all. Please do not get offended. By the way, flames are accepted. Criticism helps make everything better :)
"Sometimes, the one you would take a bullet for is behind the trigger." And other times, you just lead them to their death.
Erza Scarlet, 3rd Person
She had seen it. Seen it with her good eye, clear as day, though all she had to see by was the small fire that flickered, time and time again, struggling to stay alive. Just like her fellow prisoners. She had heard it, too. The low baritone of it's voice echoing off the empty room while discussing matters she didn't understand. The voice was void of emotion, just like her feelings toward it. It was not worth her time to abhor. It wasn't worth feelings at all. The 'thing' had blue hair, though she couldn't comment, she had a crimson mane herself. That thing also had crimson. Crimson hands, soiled by the priceless deaths of millions. Deaths that had been caused by it. The thing also had a crimson tattoo, ornamenting it's face from it's forehead (Though she couldn't imagine what that forehead contained. Knowledge and a brain were certainly not in that forehead. Nor was the concept of ethics, apparently.) to the apple of it's cheek. The tattoo was not the swastika of allegiance she had become familiar with, it was very elaborate, a swirl of designs, she couldn't begin to describe it, she didn't know where to start. How it curved, ever so slightly, with his cheek? Or maybe the simple, yet startling, line that cut through his cheek like the wooden katanas she used to play with, a major part of her short, but happy childhood. But, his eyes startled her. They were so serious. Even more so than Grey-a part of her surrogate family's- cold eyes. They were a hunter's trap for a deer. Enticing, like a snake luring a hummingbird in. And CHOMP! The bird was gone, like it never existed. That would be her someday. Sooner or later. She had heard rumors, of the Konzentration felder's way of making people disappear. Like the humming bird. Like she never existed.
Though he wasn't the man fueling the war, he was certainly a big part of it. Part of the organization that would someday kill her, just like it did to her biological family. They died by 'biological means'. She still remembered the terror in her mother's eyes as recognition struck. She remembered her father, screaming at her to run. That was all she remembered of them. Because she had only come in contact with it for a split second before running away with desperation, the gases had gave her short term memory loss. But it was better than what her parents got out of it.
FERNANDES... Traitor.
Jellal Fernandes, 3rd Person
Erza thought she was hidden from view, in the shadows, where darkness lurked-where he should be-though the minuscule flame valiantly fought against it. Her scarlet hair was a dead giveaway, along with the sharp breaths she drew, Most likely to calm herself down, he mused. Jellal couldn't blame her, he could be a beast at times, preying upon the weak and helpless. Clearing his head, he decided to act like she wasn't there, toying with the girl-the young woman, really, her eye held much more wisdom than a person of her age. Unconsciously-he didn't even know he was analyzing scenarios- he began imagining scenarios, what would she do if he did this-
He stood up quickly, and began pacing. His path was random, choosing to step in one direction, slide, move in a circle. Jellal began to fall into step, waltzing, like he would at the extravagant political parties that covered up the real things that took place- treaties, alliances, and promises were all made and broken, a never-ending circle. He danced, to a tune no one had heard, it had been banished. But his memories were sharp. He twirled around nothing. His hands were up in all the right places, but there wasn't a place for them to rest upon. He didn't care. He dipped to the diminuendo of the valse in his head. It was an unusually fast valse, yet he kept up, the simple footwork making a beat. PITTER patter patter, PITTER patter patter. He continued even after he heard the soft, uneven, pitter-patter of another pair of feet, then slowly fade into nothingness, yet again. It was the most refreshing thing he had done in an era. He pondered, 'What would she think of that?'
Erza, 3rd Person
He was dancing. Or waltzing, to be precise. The movement of his body entrapped her, she stood, paralyzed, listening to the sharp beat his shoes made. She knew the song, she knew the surprises and the diminuendos and where it maintained a sostenuto beat, then where the song would glide down a series of chromatic steps, ornamented with a overlapping harmony. it was the one her father was put in the konzentration felder for. And so, her family was also caught up in his conflict. Once the beat began to slow, to ritardando, she ran back to the minuscule shack that was the slave quarters of this felder. Slowly opening the door, pulling it up at one point, to avoid unnecessary cccrrreeeaaaks. She didn't want another day without food, courtesy of the 'supreme' overseers. She didn't know how much longer she could go without it.
As she laid in her designated sleeping area (it was a small patch of land that was unusable, really), she wondered, When did I begin to call him a him and think of him as a human?
Lucy Heartfilia, 1st Person
As my personal handmaiden, Mrs. Spetto arrived with multiple suitcases holding her belongings, while Ribbon McGarden, the Heartfilia Konzern's librarian, lugged a few carts, full of books, with Levy, his daughter trailing behind him to ensure that no novels would fall out of the carts. Aed carried his kitchen supplies while attempting to shout orders,"Bring the pans to me!" "No, not those!" "The china should have already been packed!"
I handed my suitcases, full of everything I would ever need, to Zoldeo, and hoisted myself into a plush, pillow-y seat of the well-to-do-looking carriage. It was almost double the length of a middle-class carriage, to ensure my possessions, along with my father's, were able to safely fit. Or at least, part of our possessions. The decorative paintings and other ornamental goods were to be moved in another cart. Magnolia's outskirts was a two hour ride from the Heartfilia Konzern's land. This trip was accompanied by only Mrs. Spetto, my father would be travelling on a jet plane to Magnolia, later this week, to attend a meeting with Mr. Ivan Dreyer, an influential businessman whose main source of profit were the felder, before riding a carriage to the place where we would be residing for who-knows-how-long. I yawned, allowing myself to take a small nap.
It may have been the quality of the bumpy ride, but jostling soon awoke me. My eyelids fluttered before fully opening, a yawn half escaped my mouth before I managed to daintily cover it up with a hand. I stretched my unused joints, hearing multiple 'pop!'s, before changing to a stiffer, upright posture that was expected of a lady of high standards. The ride may be nearing it's end, which meant people may see me exiting. Therefore, I made sure to look decent before turning my head towards the glossy window to look at the scenery outside, which was playing on a continuous loop of grass, wildflowers, and cows. An untainted piece of land, which was rare in the world I lived in. It seems industrialization had not yet taken hold of this land. Mostly. The fact that there was a pathway, no matter how un-maintained, for carriages to drive upon meant industrialization was well under way.
3rd Person,
Gears that soundlessly worked together under the ground Lucy rode upon began to move, unbeknownst to her. Steam was released from a small opening. Poisonous gases began seeping into a confined room, filled with a handful of the Jewish.
Natsu Dragneel, 3rd Person
Natsu laboriously thought, aiming to best his frienemy, Grey Fullbuster, in anything he could, ranging from footraces to math problems, etched into the un-fertile ground they lived upon. This time, it was seeing how far they could push the overseers before they snapped.
"Yo, Ivan!"
"It's Mr. Dreyer, to you, child!" The overseer barked back.
"So, how 'bout shaving that hair? If you were bald, then nobody would notice that you're beginning to bald!" Natsu taunted, smiling at his own logic. He was so smart sometimes...
"Stupid kid."
"What was that, you piece of shit?"
"What'd you just call me?"
"A turd. Duh. Are you deaf as well as balding? That's unattractive, you know."
SMACK! Ivan's whip sharply hit Natsu's back, which was protected by nothing but rags. Just another wound that would soon scab over, then scar, adding to the vast collection already present on his back.
Inwardly, Natsu smiled. 30 seconds. New record. The more taunting he did, the less work the overseer would order the other children-he would do all the chores, if he could, so that the other kids were happier than their present state.
Grey Fullbuster, 3rd Person
"Excuse me, Nullpudding, sir." Grey started out.
"Whaddya want, runt?"
"I was just wondering, sir," Grey dragged out, attempting to prolong his time. Nullpudding's eye began to twitch. "How is your stomach so large? I mean, you can't be pregnant, so I don't see why you and your stomach have to take up so much space..." He pretended to ponder, looking away, but still catching, out of the corner of his eye, the fist that Nullpudding was raising over him." Perhaps they are interconnected and you have a Siamese twin? Then you could pass an excuse for taking up so much space! You should use that excuse, sir. Just a recommendation, sir."
BAM! Nullpudding's large fist connected with Grey's jaw, the rock-hard fist would've hit his forehead and potentially knocked him into a coma, had he not ducked. 30 seconds. He surely beat Natsu with this time.
Unbeknownst to the 2 boys, gears began to move. Gears that resulted in the death of their parents. Gears that may, someday, kill them, too.