Adriaan - Netherlands
Isabel - Belgium
Xavier - Cuba
Angelique - Seychelles
Gunner - Denmark
Vidar - Norway
Franz- Kugelmugel
Érzsebét - Hungary
Honestly out of all the human names listed here, only Franz was used in the original fic. How times have changed.
It was cool and dark under the bridge, with welcoming shade that protected a person from the intense glare of the sun. The water was warm and clear, no good for a nice, cold swim, but you could see the bottom, the golden-red copper riverbed reflecting the sunlight. There was a walkway either side that ran the whole length of the river, providing people with access to the city's water supply, and an easy route from one side to the other. It dissected the city, and, like everything else, was artificial. It sprouted from the western side of the city wall and disappeared into the eastern stretch, where it was cleaned, processed and regurgitated out of the western stretch once more. A network of pipes connected it to the houses so that everyone had running water but the river itself was also used to carry cargo too wide to fit through the streets. Long canoes would come and go, boatmen waving at the people they passed on their way. The river was three metres deep wherever it flowed and flowed slowly, so people could also swim in some fruitless attempt to escape the sun's heat, especially in the stifling, airless summer.
The walkway under the bridge was where Lovino spent his days, smoking, slacking, and joking with his friends. It was the one place where he could escape from his worries, from reality. He walked towards his friends, waving cheerily and flashing a grin. They waved back and Lovino bent down to kiss Isabel's hand. "Hey gorgeous!"
Isabel laughed, snatching her hand back. It was their little joke. She was sitting on the floor her legs hanging over the side, feet submerged in the crystal water. Her grin was almost hidden by an enormous summer hat.
Her older brother, Adriaan, was sat next to her, watching them with a face like someone was pissing on his cigarettes. Lovino did a mock sigh, rolling his eyes animatedly. "Well, we don't want you feeling left out now, Adriaan; don't worry, you're beautiful too," he kissed the older man's hand as well. Xavier, leaning against the wall, burst out laughing. Adriaan shook his head, snatching his hand back.
"Dickhead," he growled, but meant no harm.
Lovino had never been overly fond of Isabel's brother. He wasn't the worst person in the world, but he was still a prick who'd sell his own mother if he thought it was a good investment. Until recently, he'd been the only one old enough to buy cigarettes, so they kept him around.
Lovino shrugged and took a seat next to Xavier, in front of an old propaganda poster of the Emperor. Feliciano had drawn a moustache onto a few months ago with a felt pen when he and Sal were hanging out with them after school. This little bit of graffiti indicated that the authorities never checked under the bridge, as such an insult to the Emperor would have been removed immediately, so the four of them could stay there and talk about what they wanted to undisturbed.
"Hey Lovi," said Isabel cheerily, "so, how's things with you?"
"Can't complain," replied Lovino, "well, actually, I can."
"You always can."
"Apparently, Grandpa just invited a shitload of relatives to stay with us. I don't even have room to tug one out as it is; I'll never have privacy now!"
"Jerk off in public like a non-coward," said Adriaan, and Lovino didn't even attempt to respond to that.
"Have I ever mentioned my Uncle Francis?"
"Nope," said Isabel.
"Francis Bonnefoy?" asked Xavier.
"You know him?"
Xavier shrugged; "he hangs out with my cousin. Nice guy, wouldn't wanna live with him but still pretty cool."
"Yeah well I have to live with him, and the other ones too," Lovino folded his arms, pouting. Isabel giggled.
"So how is your booty- cousin! Cousin. How's your cousin?"
Xavier snorted, dusting down his floral shirt. "Damn Belle," he spluttered, "how come you never compliment my ass?"
"Maybe I will from now on; it's just his is like a pair of cannon ba-."
"Yeah, Toni's okay! Still a fucking dipshit, though."
"Not even gonna ask," muttered Adriaan.
"He'd forget his head if it wasn't attached to his neck."
"You sound like your mother," said Isabel.
"His mother's hotter, though," said Lovino.
Xavier pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, offering one to Adriaan (Isabel didn't smoke) before lighting one for himself and flicking the empty packet at Lovino.
"Cunt."
"So, have any of you got any closer to finding a job yet?" Xavier asked, ignoring him.
"Yes I've had this nice job sticking up posters for a few years now," replied Adriaan, smirking.
"I wasn't talking to you, old man."
"No," answered Lovino, "I probably should start looking."
"You should," Isabel sighed, "we all should. Or there'll only be hard labour left."
"Not yet, though. Can we please just enjoy our last few months of freedom?"
"Okay," Isabel splashed him, "but if we get in trouble, it's your fault."
Lovino stuffed his hands in his pockets, wandering down the road. It was evening now and he was returning home after a long, hard day of doing nothing. After saying goodbye to his friends, he'd gone for a wander around the nicer parts of the city. He turned a corner and found himself in the Golden Square, the open space for citizens to gather in front of the Grand Palace. In the middle was a beautiful fountain, and silver trees bordered the Square. A cheering crowd filled the space, barring his way. He looked towards the balcony at the front of the palace, and, sure enough, there was the Emperor, the grand Empress, Érzsebét, and the royal heir, Prince Franz. Sighing to himself, he began halfheartedly cheering and waving too, in case there was anyone nearby that might accuse him of disloyalty. It picked up as he began shuffling through, and Lovino had no way of knowing what the Emperor was even saying in his address, only that he approved and supported him. He didn't really have an opinion on the Emperor. His grandpa wasn't a fan, but the guy had always been in charge, so it seemed. It wasn't something they could change, so Lovino just carried on the best he could.
Most of the crowd drowned each other out, though, and it was only when Lovino stopped to rest, by the trees at the back, that he heard anything resembling interesting conversation.
"I bet I could shoot the dickhead from here."
Lovino's ears prickled, and he glanced up to see a little blond man in a tree hissing his dissenting remarks to his friends. His round face was red with heat and anger, and lucky for him, no one else appeared to have heard, besides his horrified friends and Lovino.
"Tino, what the hell are you saying?" another man hissed back, staring at Tino with a look of horror, "you wanna get killed? Cause that's how you get killed!"
"Gunner is right, you know," added a third fellow, "besides, you can't even hold a rifle anymore, let alone shoot one."
Lovino decided to pretend he wasn't listening, so they wouldn't stop their conversation for his sake. This was the juiciest thing he'd overheard in weeks.
"A guy can dream, Vidar!" cried Tino, who appeared to be a day-drinker. Lovino spared a moment to watch as Gunner dragged him out of the tree and covered his mouth. The two, more sober, men got their friend out of sight and earshot before he caused any trouble for himself. Lovino shook his head, deciding to continue his journey home, trying to appear cheery and celebrating as he navigated his way through the crowd. Why did the name "Tino" sound so familiar?
Ducking into a side street, Lovino spat on the ground and began walking again, quicker now, lest any more opportunities to be arrested came up.
"Please, treat this as if it's your own home," Grandpa Janus clasped Francis's hands as the group stood in his main room.
They were a sorry sight, dressed in as many clothes as they could to save space in their bags. Céline and a little boy of around fifteen - introduced as Ludwig - were covered in still-fresh bruises and cuts that had barely scabbed over. He didn't want to bring the subject up, but he could guess what happened to her fiancé. They were older than the last time he'd seen them, and in worse condition. Francis looked like he'd been going without dinners and they'd all been roughed up. The three foster kids looked ready to cry.
"Thank you, Papa," Francis sighed.
"So, want me to fix you up something to eat?" asked Feliciano, sat cross-legged on the floor next to Salvatorio.
"Could you please?" asked one of the twins, Matthew, "if it's not too much trouble. We've had a long day."
"Sure thing!" Feliciano gave a bright smile and stood up to leave.
"I'll help," added Salvatorio, following him out of the room.
"Take the bags upstairs, the rest of you," said Francis, "ask Grandpa where you'll be staying."
With instructions from Grandpa Janus, the kids began dragging the bags upstairs, Ludwig hovering around the others awkwardly the whole time.
"I suppose you want to know what happened," said Francis in a low voice. Grandpa Janus nodded.
"But, if it's too painful to talk about…"
"We might as well," said Céline, sitting up straight, "won't take long. I'm not sure if you know, but Gilbert, my… my fia- he was the editor of a little newspaper. A worker's newpaper, about labour rights. The higher-ups didn't like his editing." There was nothing more to say.
"I see," Grandpa Janus sighed, "so sorry to hear that. I'm sure he was a good man."
Céline nodded, not listening anymore.
"I'm home!" called Lovino, shutting the front door behind him and walking into the hallway. "Anyone care?" he added when he was met with silence. "I was doing drugs and stabbing old ladies!"
"No you weren't, Lovi, but you're just in time to help us," Feliciano stuck his head in the kitchen doorway, smiling brightly, "get a plate; we have guests."
Lovino had no time to answer before a platter full of homemade snacks was thrust into his empty hands. Feliciano and Salvatorio appeared with plates of their own and he was bustled into the main room. The boys put the food on the coffee table, to the apparent delight of their new guests.
"Wow, thanks guys," Alfred, Matthew's twin brother, began helping himself, "this looks great; I could just eat everything!"
Matthew looked at him. "We know."
"Please don't," said Francis, picking up a roll, "these are for sharing."
Feliciano beamed. "Don't worry, there's plenty to go round!"
"You're a good cook, Feli," said Angelique, the youngest of the group, curled up between her foster brothers, "can you teach me sometime?"
"Of course!" Feliciano was practically glowing from the attention. Lovino was proud of him, and a little jealous. After all, he was the one who'd taught Feliciano everything he knew about food. Of course, everything he knew about food came from Grandpa Janus, but he still wanted some credit.
Feliciano noticed Ludwig starting at the food on the table, but not touching anything. The kid tugged on his shirt nervously, looking at the floor. He was only a year or so younger than Feliciano himself, apparently, but looked small and bony, with cuts and bruises covering his skin.
"Hey, Ludwig, right?" Feliciano shuffled over to the kid, "aren't you eating?"
Ludwig glanced up at him before looking back down without answering.
"He, well, Ludwig hasn't said a word since his brother..." explained Francis. "They made him watch," he hissed to Grandpa Janus.
Feliciano saw Ludwig's mouth twitch.
"Here," he said, piling food into a little plate, "eat, you'll feel better."
Ludwig nodded, tentatively taking the plate, picking up a biscuit and taking a bite. He gave the smallest nod and Feliciano smiled.
"There, see? You feeling better?" Ludwig shrugged.
Lovino knew he was supposed to be feeling sorry for the kid, and he was, but the boy was just so creepy, the way he stared at everyone. Still, Lovino couldn't imagine losing a brother. It was also weird not being the focus of his own brother's attention; Feliciano usually had a million questions about his day, and, instead, he was stroking Ludwig's hair as he ate. Lovino wasn't sure if he was relieved or not, but he supposed the weird kid needed Feliciano more.
He turned away from Ludwig, to the twins.
"So, you two got jobs then?" he asked, trying to make conversation. He hated trying to make conversation.
"Yeah, we work at the arms factory," said the one with shorter hair, Alfred, right? Lovino always had trouble telling them apart.
"Hey, that sounds interesting, making and testing out guns."
"It's really not," said the other, Matthew, "it's just screwing things all day."
Lovino snorted. "That don't sound so bad, screwing things all day, I mean." Matthew and Alfred laughed. They seemed alright and Lovino suspected they would make the whole overcrowding not seem so bad. Grandpa Janus flicked him on the ear and grumbled something about children being present.
"So you have a job?" asked Alfred.
"Not yet," replied Lovino, pretty sick of being asked. Yes, he'd started the conversation, but only because he couldn't think of anything to talk about without mentioning all the homelessness and death. "Only out of freaking school."
"Well if you want," suggested Matthew, "we could always put a word in at the factory if you can't find anything."
"Thanks, I'd appreciate that," he lied.
"Don't worry about it," Alfred flashed a grin.
Grandpa Janus flicked on the TV out of habit. There was only one channel. At the moment, there was a speech from the Emperor being broadcast, one of several daily addresses and possibly the one Lovino saw him give earlier.
"… And we must thank the loyal people of this empire,
For their efforts in maintaining the order and stability,
Necessary for the growth of the city, in all areas of life,
So that I may, proudly, say, the ten year anniversary of my coronation next week…"
Francis sighed, switching off the set the moment the broadcast ended.
"Dick," murmured Alfred; Matthew nodded in agreement.
"Yes but he's the dick that runs the place," Grandpa Janus shook his head, "so we all have to be careful. More careful, I mean."
The more I read of this story, the more sense it makes that my depressed, 15-year-old ass would write a fucking dystopia with the angstiest fucking anime character as the main guy.