Adventures of the Golden State (Hetalia)
Author: Ashynarr
Summary: Under much protest and complaint, I've decided that since I have nowhere else to put these, I'm going to share some of my state OC drabbles to see how people like them. Mostly focused on California, but will feature other states.
Disclaimer: Hetalia's not mine.
Warning: State OCs
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"So Alta California and Texas are mine then."
"For all the good that does you."
"Does California have a personification?"
"Yes, but good luck finding her. Never saw much point in keeping track of the runt; nothing but cows and horses up there."
Alfred sighed and rubbed at his face as the ship he was on pulled into Monterey harbor. He'd hoped it'd be easy to find his newest territory, but apparently neither Texas nor Mexico had bothered to check in on the (presumably) kid in, well… ever. It still bothered him that, even with her mess of a government, the other Nation hadn't even bothered to look in on her own territories once since she'd broken away from Spain.
And now he had to track down the kid himself, and didn't even know where to start.
He'd slowly worked his way up the coast, stopping in at each of the ports and wandering for a day or two until he was sure she wasn't there before moving on to the next one. This was one of the last stops, only San Francisco coming after this, and then he'd have to try inland, which would take a lot longer since the land still wasn't quite his yet.
(God, this would have been easier if he could just pace the miles normally, but that probably wasn't gonna happen for at least a few more months, when the new claims settled in.)
The more he saw of the land, though, the more he felt bad for the kid. For all the acres she apparently had, she had next to no people to call her own - a mere ten thousand spread out over hundreds of miles with only empty ranchlands between them. The same stretch of coastline on the east coast had had millions more even before his revolution, not to mention more than a dozen personifications to speak to.
Once the ramp was down, Alfred stepped off the ship and started making his way with the others into the small town, eying the crates of tallow and hide to be loaded onboard already waiting to the side. Reminded again of Mexico's flippant comment about what was up here, he frowned and continued on.
His first stop was the small general store, where a lot of what came in went to before being sold to the locals. After a short chat with the owner and directions to a place he could get food, he turned to exit the store only to almost bump into a little girl, no older than seven, who darted inside with a piece of paper in her hands.
He watched her hand the letter up and over the counter along with some money, rocking on her heels while waiting for the owner to collect the things on the list and write his own note before handing the goods, the note, and the change over to her. She smiled and waved, darting back out into the streets and down the dirt path.
"Who was that?" Alfred asked after she left.
"Oh, just a street rat; doesn't speak much English, but she's good at running messages and goods around, so the town just lets her be."
"Huh," the Nation muttered, thanking him before leaving, deciding to keep an eye out for the kid.
The next time he saw her, some of the local militia (or former, it seemed) had cornered her, trying to get her to give up whatever she was carrying now. Which, as it turned out, was a large basket of produce, though a sprig of basil had fallen to the ground in her attempts to keep it away from them.
"Is there a problem here?" Alfred asked once he was close enough, drawing the attention of all three.
"This little thief here isn't handing over the goods she took," One of the men complained, shooting her a dirty look.
The Nation raised a brow, looking to her and seeing the note tucked between her hand and the edge of the basket, asking in Spanish. "Hey, can I see the note?"
She blinked in surprise, but after carefully shifting her hand so she could keep a hold of the basket she held it out, biting her lip as Alfred read it over, nodding to himself.
"Right, this says she was taking one basket of basil, lettuce, and carrots to a Ms Sutters at the far end of town. Seems to me that she's not stealing anything, seeing as that's exactly what's in there. Unless you want to bring this up to the local governor?"
The men looked between each other nervously, shaking their heads before leaving. Alfred sighed and rubbed at his neck, turning back to the girl who was picking up the dropped goods and brushing them off before putting them back. "You alright?"
She looked up to him, nodding once. "Yes, thank you."
Glancing the way the men had gone, Alfred asked with an understanding smile, "Want some help taking those where they need to go?"
She frowned, but after a bit accepted, taking off down the path again while Alfred followed, the sight unusual enough that a few people stopped to stare after them.
"Do you have any parents?" He asked after a bit.
"No," She replied, shaking her head. "I used to live at the mission, but it closed, so I live on my own now."
"At your age?" He frowned. "Don't you get lonely?"
"It's alright," She smiled up at him, though it looked rather sad. "I talk to the people in town sometimes, and they give me enough to get by."
Alfred didn't reply right away, leaving the two to finish the walk in silence, the girl giving her basket to the older woman and getting a smile, a pat on the head, and a bit of cash in exchange. It was only on the trip back, when they were out of earshot of anyone else, that he finally decided to ask.
"Are you Alta California?"
She twirled on her heels, staring up at him wide eyed and tense. "What did you call me?"
"Alta California," He repeated. "You're too young to be on your own, and last I was told the missions closed almost two decades ago."
The young Territory didn't reply for a bit, looking torn between running and staying. Eventually she asked, "Who are you?"
Alfred smiled. "I'm America, but you can call me Alfred."
"Oh," She sighed, gaze sinking a bit. "You own me now."
"No," He responded sharply, drawing her gaze back up to his. "You are under my care now, which is completely different. I am not going to just leave you here on your own like they did, alright?"
She didn't look like she believed him, but nodded quietly, causing him to sigh and run a hand through his hair. "What's your human name, by the way?"
"...Isabel." She responded after a bit.
"That's a nice name," He responded, offering a hand to her with a smile. "Do you want to come with me?"
"...Alright..." She spoke quietly enough that he barely picked it up, after a moment's hesitance placing her hand in his own.
It'd take a while to earn her trust, it seemed, but he had plenty of time to work with. And Alfred F. Jones was not going to leave this poor kid all on her own for any longer than he needed to.
(The East could take care of itself for a little while.)
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"Hello?" Isabel called out after knocking on the apartment door she'd been directed to, frowning when she got no reply. "New York? Are you there?"
She huffed; really, if the eastern state was gonna make her come all the way out here to the other coast just to discuss resource allotment and troop movements, he could at least have the graciousness to be there when she arrived. And her boss wondered why she didn't like dealing with anyone east of the Mississippi.
After a minute the door clicked open, the western State ready to grumble about New York's tardiness before realizing it wasn't a guy who was glaring at her now.
"He's not here; who's asking for him?"
"I'm California." Isabel replied. "Who're you?"
"New Jersey," The other State replied tersely, frowning more after receiving a name. "You're the little upstart who bought her own statehood."
"And did a fine good job of looking after myself to boot," Isabel agreed sharply. "Can I come in now, or at least get directions to where New York actually is so I can get these supply movement talks over with already?"
"His boss called him in for something; he won't be back for a least an hour." New Jersey hesitated, obviously tempted to shut the door, but eventually let the western State in. "Just try not to touch anything."
"Wasn't planning on it," Isabel rolled her eyes but came in, looking around as she made her way down the short hall to the living room, about to settle into a seat when she spied the pot of violets on the table.
Huh, she hadn't known the guy liked flowers. They actually even looked like they were in good condition.
"Something wrong?" New Jersey asked from behind her.
"No, just surprised he has flowers is all," Isabel shrugged. "Never struck me as the gardening type."
"Those are mine, actually," The other state replied. "Since I'm usually over here to keep an eye on his place while he runs around doing Al's paperwork, I decided to bring some of my plants over to liven it up."
"You garden?" California glanced to the other in surprise.
"I am the Garden State for a reason," New Jersey replied dryly, smug as could be. "I can grow pretty much anything you can name."
"I dunno about that," Isabel grinned. "I grow an awful lot of things back at my place myself."
"Oh really?" New Jersey challenged. "Like what?"
The western state sat back, looking up as she counted off. "Apricots, avocados, almonds, artichokes, dates, figs, grapes, kiwi fruit, olives, peaches, pistachios, plums, pomegranates, clover, walnuts, carrots, beans, apples, broccoli, and cauliflower; that's not including the flowers I grow right next to the house, like my poppies, baby blues, hyacinth, daffodils, and morning glories."
New Jersey whistled, a bit wide eyed now. "How do you even have room for all that?"
"I own about ten acres of land near Monterey," Isabel shrugged. "I haven't had a lot of time for it since we joined the war, but I still like to spend time there relaxing."
New Jersey made a face. "Yeesh, that's almost as much land as Alfred's place in Virginia. And you look after all that by yourself?"
"Well, sometimes my siblings come in and lend a hand, but for the most part, yeah."
"Wow," The eastern State looked impressed. "And here I thought my own three acres of land was impressive. Though I doubt half of what you grow would last all that long up here."
"What do you grow, by the way?" California asked, genuinely curious.
"Mostly flowers, though I also have a vegetable patch and some fruit trees." The two had settled down into seats facing each other by this point, getting more into the topic as they went on. "I've got tomatoes and cucumbers, broccoli, sweetcorn, spinach, and cauliflower, as well as apples, figs, plums, and blueberries. As for flowers…" She hummed in thought for a second, tapping her leg. "Violets obviously… tulips, crocuses, honeysuckle, bee balm, black eye susans, bleeding hearts, mistflower, climbing roses, beardtongue, wisteria, and goldenrod. I've been trying to find more to add, but like you said, the war's been eating at my free time to look after them all."
Isabel nodded in sympathy. "Yeah, it can be a pain. I wouldn't mind trading a few of my breeds over of you want some more variety - they should be able to handle the climate here without any issues."
"I want to see them first before I agree to anything," New Jersey argued. "You won't believe how annoying it is when one of your plants is trying to overtake all the other ones the second you turn your back on them."
"I've been there, trust me," California laughed. "The poppies I mentioned? They love growing pretty much everywhere they can - if I don't pull out the wanderers constantly, they tend to take over the front yard and make everything bright orange and red. It's pretty, but it makes it a bit harder for the other plants to grow."
New Jersey snorted despite herself. "At least it sounds pretty."
"It is, but really, if I want to see that, I can just go look at the hills. I mean it when I say they grow everywhere." Isabel waved it off, though she was smiling as well. "You know, you're pretty cool."
"Same to you," The eastern state replied, pausing for a second before continuing. "I'm Susannah, by the way."
"Isabel," California returned, accepting the handshake she was offered. "Also, I just remembered where I heard some of those flower names of yours - those are butterfly flowers, aren't they?"
Susannah flushed slightly. "And what if they are?"
Isabel laughed loudly. "Oh my gosh, you have a butterfly garden! You are just a little sweetie under all that gruff, aren't you?"
"Excuse me?" New Jersey started glaring back at her again.
"I can just see it now - sweet little Susie and her horde of butterfly attendants," Isabel teased, grinning even more widely at the bristle that sent through the eastern state.
"Don't you dare call me that in front of anyone," Sue growled.
"Not a peep to anyone else," The western State promised. "But I definitely reserve rights to use it when no one's around."
Though Sue swore at her after that, she didn't explicitly turn it down, leaving Isabel to sit back in gleeful victory. After a few minutes of letting the older woman swear, she interrupted with a deflecting question. "By the way, can I come to your place after this to see your flowers? I wanna see if any of them might be nice to have back at my place."
New Jersey scowled for a bit longer, but her shoulders were relaxing again as she replied, "Fine, but you'd better not come up with any other stupid nicknames, or I'm kicking you out, guest or not."
"Fair enough," California conceded, though she never lost the grin.
(By the time New York got back to his apartment at last, the two were well into a debate over the best rotation of flowers through the seasons. His small heart attack at the two not tearing each other's throats out from a century's worth of resentment was completely understandable in that instance.)
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AN: Was originally planning to have more, but since these two drabbles came out long enough on their own, I'm just gonna save the other ideas for the next update. Just a bit more background on Cali's acceptance into the US, as well as how she and Susie became friends in the first place.
(And yes, I will be getting more into the east-west resentments in the future – there's a lot to work with there!)