S'up dudes. Here's some fic. I hope this is suitable.
An unholy union of Hetalia, Vocaloid, Sailor Moon, Shugo Chara, Madoka Magica (when I've seen more of it) and Soul Eater is taking form in my head. God help us all.
Panda Hero
Alfred scurried through the streets, hugging himself to try and keep warm, pretending that he wasn't scared. He was the hero, heroes weren't afraid of anything!
A cat yowled and something clattered nearby, and he dropped his camera in fright, letting out a girly shriek. The perpetrator, a large ginger tom, ran out in front of him, and slunk under a parked car on the other side of the street. He laughed slightly hysterically in relief
"I-I totally knew that was a cat!" He called out to whoever might be listening, which was precisely no-one. He resumed his search for the elusive vigilante, albeit at a faster pace than before, gazing around with wide nervous eyes all the while. The Panda Hero better show up soon, he was freezing!
The Panda Hero delivered a savage kick to the ribs of one of five men he had just finished dealing with.
"That bloody well hurt, you tosser. I have to go to school with that!" He rolled his shoulder, wincing as he did so, and kicked the man again for good measure.
"Did he get my face, flying mint bunny?" He poked at his cheek anxiously.
The mythical rabbit examined him for a moment, before declaring "You look as handsome as ever, England."
"Thank you. Should I check these on the police app?"
"Well, you certainly can't leave them here, can you? One of them could be dangerous."
"You're right."
He fished his phone out of his trouser pocket, scrolling through it quickly and selected his police app, designed and installed by Eduard, his 'contact' from computer sciences (because both of them were the kind of person that likes to pretend they're too busy and important to have friends), back when he did that thing that boosted the signal and halved the phone bill. The thing had been practically a brick with a light before Eduard got his hands on it, so Arthur paid him handsomely for the trouble, like everyone else did.
He scrolled through the faces and the latest reports, comparing them to those in front of him. He paused at one, scrutinising intensely, but eventually dismissed it.
"We're clear; the police can pick these up." He scrolled back up to the top again, to the most recent reports, looking for a nearby call to deal with. He found one, and sighed.
"Jewellery store again? Really?" He tucked the phone away in a pocket and kicked the man who had injured his shoulder again. Bloody hell he ached. His whole body was covered in bruises and scratches and he was only adding more every night. Surely he should be healing faster now, being a superhero? Flying Mint bunny said he had to wait, and find the other Panda Heroes before all his abilities would fully manifest, but he really wasn't sure if he could wait that long. What if someone shot at him or something?
"Right, let's go. I have a good feeling about tonight." He smiled, and hoped he didn't run into anyone he knew. He limped forward, out into the light of the main street, massaging at his aching shoulder, muttering various expletives under his breath, and walked straight into the path of a shivering boy in his early teens, bundled up in so much clothing only his eyes were visible. The boy jumped about a foot in surprise, shouting…something, but it was muffled by his scarf. He waved his hand excitedly in Arthur's direction, hurriedly ripping the offending winter clothing away from his face.
"Panda Hero! Thank god I finally found you, it's bitchin' cold out here!" He grinned.
"Language!" Arthur barked, more out of habit than anything else.
"Sorry, sorry!" The teen held his hands up in a gesture of goodwill, smiling sheepishly. "You're, like, my hero dude, can I talk to you? Just if you're not busy right now, I mean."
Wait, was that Alfred?
Shit.
"Not for too long, alright, then you need to go home and sleep." Arthur found himself saying. What the bloody hell was he doing?
"Hell yeah!" He whooped, fist pumping the air. "I'm Alfred, by the way." He held out his hand to shake, smiling the way he always did. "Who are you?"
For some reason, Arthur found himself smiling back. "Now that would be telling, wouldn't it? You can call me…England."
He took the proffered hand, and shook it.
"Awesome. Hey, can I have your autograph, Mr England?"
Oh, Alfred.
"So let me get this straight; your plushie flying rabbit told you that you were a superhero, and you believed it?"
"Well, obviously not at first, at first I thought I was crazy, but I was convinced after that time I fell off the roof and landed on my feet, dressed like this."
"Whoa, seriously?"
"It was bloody terrifying."
"But still cool at the same time, right?"
Arthur gave him a look, then shifted his eyes away, embarrassed.
"…okay, maybe a little." He admitted.
"Exactly! So, can you like, fly and stuff?" Alfred appeared to be resisting the urge to jump up and down in excitement, and barely at that.
"No, I can't really fly, but sometimes I can hover a bit."
"Why sometimes?"
Arthur shifted in his seat, settling in for what was shaping up to be a long conversation. It seemed Alfred wanted to know all of his secrets. Not that he knew many of them himself.
"I don't really understand it much myself: apparently I'm carrying all the powers, and different abilities express at different times, usually when I need them, thankfully, and none of them are mine. I need to find at least 2 of the other heroes before I find out what my skill even is, let alone start using it!" He sighed. "It's more trouble than it's worth, to be honest."
If possible, Alfred's eyes widened even further. "Hold on, other heroes? You mean there are more of you for me to stalk?"
He beamed excitedly, then seemed to realise what he'd said.
"I'm sorry, I'm tired. I didn't mean that, just ignore me." He slumped against the chimney he was using as a backrest, which was radiating warmth and surprisingly comfortable. It was the best roof for comfort in the city; the Panda Hero sure knew how to treat his guests.
"Not yet there aren't, I need to find them first, or something like that," He collapsed against the chimney next to Alfred.
"And this is all between the hours of ten at night and two in the morning, the rest of the time I have to go to school! On five hours of sleep a night! How the bloody hell am I meant to explain these injuries in PE?" He groaned. Alfred nodded empathically.
"My shoulder bloody well hurts, it does. I can barely move it, it's bloody useless! What are these tossers doing to me Alfred? What am I doing to myself?"
"Mmm," Alfred mumbled, as his head slid down to rest on Arthur's shoulder, lulled to sleep by the heat of the chimney against his back and the fact it was half past one in the morning. Lucky Arthur had been busy in his first hour, or he wouldn't have gotten anything done because of Alfred!
"What am I going to do with you, eh Alfred?" He brushed the boy's hair away from his eyes. Alfred shivered in his sleep and shuffled closer to his friend.
"You'll be the death of me, you and Francis and Ivan. Not Yao though, he's sensible, I like him. But you. We've known you for the better part of 4 weeks and already we'd follow you anywhere. You're keeping us together; there's just something about you." He looked at Alfred for a long moment, then up at the sky. It was cloudy, and the lights of the city meant he couldn't see the stars. Alfred looked a lot younger while he was sleeping.
"I need to take you home, big dreamer." He smiled. "But after a couple more minutes."
Alfred rests, with a warmth against his back and shoulder, and a comforting voice in his ear telling him he will do great things, and he falls deeper. The world bursts into butterflies, and he chases them through waist high grass, then he stands on a mountain and watches people carve faces into the rock opposite him, until he doesn't, and he is flying on metal wings, on top of the world and climbing ever higher, though the sky is vivid red...
He stands on a muddy, bloody field, and the rain pours, drenching him by the bucketload as he points a gun at arthur and feels like his soul is falling apart, who turns into the panda hero, england, and some subconscious part of his mind notes there isn't really much difference, and then everything is much clearer.
He is hovering in air, and his eyes are closed. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and fills his chest with noxious smoke. As he coughs violently, his eyes flutter open, and burn and itch in their sockets. He is above a blazing inferno, so vast and angry the tips of flames are licking at his heels, but he is dreaming, so there is no pain. He can see buildings crumble and fall before his eyes, and he numbly realises he is crying, as he feels the tear tracks evaporate from the searing heat. The loneliness of the whole scene presses down on him, the silence is defening, even though the rumbling and crackling and burning are so so loud. He doesn't know, can't see any people down there, and he doesn't want to know if there are any. He twists in midair as he hears a rumble behind him, and watches another structure submit to the flames, and then it hits him. He knows that building. He passes it every day on the way to school. He knows all of these buildings.
And then he is screaming, in some mixture of horror and fear, and damn near tearing his hair out by the roots, because this is his city, he lives here, he knows here, and now she is dying and there is nothing he can do. The warmth slowly spreads over him and intensifies, growing uncomfortable and beginning to singe him too, and he is helpless to resist the pull of gravity. A rough female voice in his ear asks: "will you be my hero?" And he falls into the abyss.
Alfred sat up in bed in his shirt and jeans with a start, panting heavily with tear tracks already drying on his face. He threw back the covers in a panic, rushing over to his window and throwing it open, sighing in relief as the night-time breeze cooled his irrationally feverish skin. Wisps of the dream curled through his mind, dancing out of his grasp as he reached for them. Absentmindedly, he rubbed at his eyes and vaguely wondered what the time was.
"I'm telling you, I really did meet him! We talked for like an hour, then I fell asleep and he took me home!"
"How romantic," Francis drawled. "Are you absolutely sure that it wasn't a dream?"
"Positive," said Alfred, appearing to wilfully ignore the comment about romance. "I woke up totally depressed, so I must have had a sad dream, and this definitely wasn't sad!"
"Think about it from our perspective, Alfred," Yao rubbed at his forehead, trying to stall the beginnings of a headache. "This all sounds ridiculous. Wouldn't he have been busy?"
Alfred thought for a moment. "I thought so too, but he seemed to be fine with it."
The four of them fell silent.
"Hey. Why'd you all believe Ivan and not me, anyway?" Alfred exclaimed indignantly.
"Because his story actually made some sense," But not much, Yao added internally.
"Da, exactly," Ivan crossed his arms over his chest and nodded.
"No need to be so smug about it, Russkie dude." Alfred sneered.
"You're just jealous that I can tell stories better than you."
"Like hell I am; my story is way cooler than yours!"
"Nyet, mine was better, it was in order."
"At least all of mine was in English."
"I highly doubt that."
"Are you saying I can't talk good?"
"Yes."
"Well fuck you!"
"How articulate. You are bad at arguing, aren't you?"
"Oh, you did not just go there; I can argue for anything, ever. Like, are you even Russian? You know way too many fancy words for someone who's only been speaking English for a year and a half."
"You really are an idiot."
"Hey, all you ever do is insult me!"
"What, and you're really polite?"
"I am so damn polite it's not even funny; I'm a real southern gentleman."
"Please stop." Said Yao.
"Isn't that where they didn't want to abolish slavery?"
"Ooh, low blow." Francis hissed.
"Don't you dare bring history into this, fucking red."
"That is offensive."
"I don't care!"
Ivan's expression grew mischievous, and he leaned closer to Alfred, until their noses were almost touching. He looked him very seriously right in the eyes, and hissed.
"I want to pluck out your eyeballs and wrap them in the bacon of the motherland, capitalist pig."
Alfred looked vaguely nauseated.
"What the hell man? Fuck you, you can't have my eyeballs!"
"Nyet, In Soviet Russia , I-"
"And that's enough. This is getting ridiculous; Arthur would have ended it at 'are you even Russian'- where is he?" Francis interrupted the argument with trepidation, almost fearing for his life. Though Ivan gave him a rather vicious glare, he remained otherwise unharmed, and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Huh, now you mention it, it feels weird here without his massive eyebrows and shouty voice." Alfred laughed. "I guess I miss him, the sulky bastard."
"He should be here, he's never ill," Yao mused. "I hope he's alright."
"He will be fine, I am sure he is just sleeping." Ivan looked thoughtful. "He looks ready to collapse most days of the week anyway."
"Only you would see things like that, creeper." Alfred hissed.
"At least I noticed, ignorant-"
"But he's always here, no matter how he feels," Francis cut over the blossoming argument without even acknowledging its existence. Alfred squeaked indignantly. "He says he might as well be here every day, since he had to move to 'another bloody continent' to come here." Francis looked worried. "I-"
"Hey, let's go see him after school! Or even better, let's go see him right now!" Alfred sat back proudly, as if that was the be-all and end-all of ideas.
"Do you even know where he lives?" Ivan asked scathingly.
"Well, no, but how many grumpy British teenagers with massive eyebrows can there be in this city anyway?"
"You'd be surprised; he has three brothers." Francis shuddered as if remembering something stressful.
"No way, and they're all as bad-tempered as him?" Alfred asked with wide eyes.
"Yes, and that's the problem with visiting now, one of them might be home."
"I thought the problem was that we're meant to be in school. If we're caught…" Yao tailed off threateningly.
Ivan slung an arm over his shoulder casually, ignoring the way Yao gave it the evil eye. "Relax, don't be a wimp, it will be fun! Breaking law develops character!" he announced cheerily. Yao considered his options. On one hand, they were all incompetent (especially Alfred), and were likely to get caught right away, but on the other hand, they were his friends. He didn't want to be left out of the inevitable bonding that would occur on this escapade, leaving him on the fringe of the group. Besides, they needed someone sensible to look out for them, otherwise who knew what could happen?
"I can't believe I'm giving in to peer pressure like this, but fine, I'll go." Yao put a hand to his forehead in shame, and Ivan smiled at his victory. As always, it was slightly creepy.
"Are we really going to do this?" Alfred asked, suddenly nervous.
"Alfred, you idiot, it was your idea," Francis sighed.
"Yeah, I know it was, but…" he tailed off and squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.
"I feel that this situation calls for one of us to wave our arms around like wings and make the American chicken noise, am I right?" Ivan waited for his words to take effect.
"Alright, alright, no need for that, I'm up." He jumped out of his seat like it had burned him, laughing brazenly and avoiding everyone's eyes. "Jeez, I was joking alright, I'm no chicken." He looked Ivan right in the eye, daring him to disagree. Ivan's response was to raise a sceptical eyebrow, but he didn't say anything.
"That's what I thought." Alfred nodded smugly. He began stretching his arms out theatrically, like he was limbering up for a race, but stopped when he noticed the weird look that Yao was giving him.
"Okay team, let's move out!" He marched off proudly, expecting them to follow. They looked at each other, shrugged, then hurried after him.
"Alfred, you don't even know where he lives!" Francis called after his retreating back.
"Details!
( I want to pluck out your eyeballs and wrap them in the bacon of the motherland - KayCricketed, The Great Elevator Massacre of 2010. I never thought of a better line.)
A wild natural chapter break appeared!
Shorter than the other one, but if I didn't stop here it would be much much longer.
I didn't want to post until I was sure I was going to actually write a full story, but my friends bullied me into uploading. I won't be able to maintain any kind of regular updating until summer, cause I'm in my final year of school and I have really really important exams going on. And I'm slow.
Despite this, I hope I can still create a satisfying story!