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Post by Finland on Mar 1, 2011 17:16:55 GMT -5
“Hei, Berwald! Hyvää syntymäpäivää! Listen, I’m taking you to Turku tomorrow morning. Meet me in Helsinki around seven. Ah, don’t worry about bringing anything and dress for walking a lot. Okay? Moikka!”
At least that’s what Tino had said in the somewhat cryptic message he left after the beep. Perhaps he hadn’t been telling a complete truth. In all honesty, the Finn would never – could never – lie to the Swede. He could, alternatively, bend a few facts here and there in order to keep his friend’s birthday present a secret. Surely there was no harm in that.
Berwald arrived at Tino’s house on the morning of the seventh of June as designated. Already, it was turning out to be a pleasant day. Midsummer quickly approaching, the days were beginning to get longer, the soft light of morning arriving earlier than usual and lingering later into the evening. Tino had always preferred this time of year. Gentle snowfall was nice for the first few weeks, but in the sunless dead of winter he would long for just a few moments of warmth. He much favored the balmy days of summer, the chilly breeze of the north never completely gone but the sun’s rays cutting through the cold, baking the earth and bringing a renewed sense of life to the subarctic nation.
Even against Berwald’s advice that it would be both faster and more economical to walk to Turku, Tino insisted that he drive. The Swede’s suggestion, as they always tended to be, was correct, but the Finn didn’t mind taking a stand against his longtime partner. There were various reasons for Tino’s insistence. For one thing, it would be easier to get Berwald to their destination without making him suspicious if he wasn’t in control of his movement. And among other reasons, it was rarely the case that Tino got to drive anywhere, even as much as he enjoyed it. After only slight debate, Tino managed to coax the man into his car (a somewhat funny sight, Tino thought, as the huge man folded into his tiny, three-door Toyota Auris) and they left, heading west on E18.
The smaller man occupied himself throughout the drive by casually chatting with the other, by mouthing the words on the radio, and sometimes by talking to no one in particular. He avoided direct eye contact and fidgeted with the radio’s volume and the air vents frequently. Something about the small space of the car and the concentration of the Swede’s domineering aura was making him more on edge than usual. It was an unwarranted feeling he had never been able to shake, even after all their years of union. Tino began to doubt his own persistence of making Berwald get into his car.
It’s Berwald, he silently assured himself. It’s just Berwald.
Two hours more and signs for the Turku exits began to appear. One-by-one, Tino passed them all, eyes set on the road as if he knew exactly where he was going. A small grin, borne from excitement, pricked at the corners of his mouth and he gave a sideways glance to his passenger.
"Not too much longer, now!"
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This is a crack thread from Hata that Sweden and I started. We're moving it here in order to finish it. As far as I know, there's no need for any rating warnings.
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Post by juni on Mar 1, 2011 18:36:39 GMT -5
The day before, Berwald was mildly surprised by the message on his machine. The fact that Tino had called wasn't surprising in itself; indeed, aside from the occasional call from Denmark - who, for some reason, kept asking if his refrigerator was running even though the Swede had never had refrigerator issues - nearly every other call was from the Finn. No, the surprising part was the Finn telling Berwald to meet at his house, as typically, when meeting for anything, they would meet at the Swede's.
Not that he had any issue with meeting at the Finn's, mind. It was rather quiet and beautiful over there, and he was actually somewhat disappointed in himself for never having the chance to visit more often. And so, he turned up on Tino's doorstep on the assigned morning, punctual as ever. Given the timing of the call, he just knew today's trip had something to do with his birthday, but didn't know what, exactly, was coming. That kind of unplanned spontaneity most certainly did not usually sit particularly well with the deliberative Swede, but given it was Tino, and given that it was probably something of a birthday present, he didn’t so much mind. He could go along with it, just this once.
However, Berwald seriously did not like the idea of folding himself into some tiny Japanese car. Not that he didn’t have faith in the quality of Kiku’s work - he most certainly did – but it was just so…small. Maybe it suited the Finn just fine, but the Swede was certain there was no way he could slide the seat far enough backwards to accommodate his taller frame. So, he gave excuses: walking would be faster (which he felt it would be), tiny Toyotas just aren’t that safe (He had more faith in his roomier Volvos, especially when Tino was at the wheel). In the end though, the Finn stood by his insistence upon driving them to Åbo in the little car. The Swede begrudgingly complied, and they were finally on their way.
In contrast to Tino's constant chatter during the drive, aside from his initial objections Berwald remained entirely silent. He gazed out the passenger window at the passing scenery and simply listened to his driver carry on about whatever topic happened to pop into his mind at any given time, occasionally looking over, sometimes with a nod, a word or two, a yes to "answer" any odd question sent his way. The Swede didn't mind the mostly one-sided conversation; they had been like this for centuries, the Finn expressing whatever came to mind and the Swede receptively listening and usually only speaking when there was something important to say. That was always one of the things he loved the most about their relationship.
I do miss having that in the house...
Berwald immediately perished that thought as they came to the first sign for Åbo. As suggested in the message, he had dressed for a day of walking in his normal casual wear. Expecting some kind of hiking day, possibly by the river or shore, he also wore some comfortable all-weather hiking boots. However, he began to doubt his choice, when they passed the second and third signs for the city, and then passed it altogether. He had said Åbo, right? He hadn’t misheard? Did the Finn space out, while conversing and driving? Surely, he thought, it wasn’t entirely unheard-of for nations to forget directions when they were distracted, even within their own countries?
Brow ever-so questioningly furrowed, he turned to look at his driver, his mouth open slightly to tell him they just passed-
"Not much longer, now!"
Berwald paused for a second, then closed his mouth and nodded an "Mm," then went back to watching the scenery pass.
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Post by Finland on Mar 2, 2011 18:51:27 GMT -5
Good, Tino thought with a slight nod as he watched Berwald return his attention out the window. He doesn’t seem to be suspicious.
Although, really, with Berwald’s limited range of facial expressions, who could know? He could be the one planning something covert, for all the Finn knew. In fact, he could be plotting a sadistic and complete annihilation of the earth and Tino wouldn’t recognize it through that icy exterior. He wondered how the Swede, if he did decide to, would do it- Nuclear weapons? Bioterrorism? Naval attack? And who would he attack first? Maybe it would be Russia; he’s had it coming for a while, after all. Though North Korea was acting a bit out of line lately, too, so maybe--
Wandering imagination, the Finn silently scolded himself, rolling his eyes at the absurdity of his own mind as he passed a sign indicating that they would soon be entering Naantali. This brought him back to attention and returned to him that sense of excitement he had been feeling all morning. He deftly merged to exit the main road, entering the historic part of this southern port town. The auto traffic decreased some here as older brick apartments, hotels, and factories sprung up along the roadside, but the dense foot traffic stood to prove that this city was very much thriving. In a way, the Finn always felt a certain sense of pride when in this part of his country. Tourism was alive and well in his islanded southwest, especially this time of year, and he always found it interesting how many people from faraway places would stop by for a visit.
After a few more turns and a few more passes through roundabouts, Tino pulled the car into a public parking lot (one definitely not located in Turku where he had initially said they would be going). The tires crunched over the gravel and pavement until coming to a halt in a marked space.
“Alright, Berwald, here we are!” he chirped happily as he put the car in park and cut the engine. Gratefully, he opened the door and hopped out onto the asphalt, giving his legs and spine a much needed stretch. Driving might have been pleasurable, but Tino forgot how stiff one could get after a few hours in a cramped cab. It almost made him feel guilty knowing his lanky passenger must have been feeling even worse. He retrieved a grey backpack from his backseat, slinging it over one shoulder. Tino took a quick survey of the lot. It was relatively full, even for it still being early in the morning, and many people seemed to be moving about. A giddy grin spread across the Finn’s face as he waited for Berwald to join him on his side of the car.
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Post by juni on Mar 18, 2011 6:27:03 GMT -5
Ah, Nådendal! Berwald recognized the place the moment Tino began to make the turn-off for the exit into town. Okay, so not at the exact moment. So much had changed since he was last in this particular area: the buildings had changed almost as much as the layout of the town. Then there was Åbo which, being so close, always stole most of the attention.
He could never forget the layout of the land though, especially of one of the first towns he had chartered on the Finn’s own soil. Nations had long, long memories, and they always came flooding back when he visited these regions. He first spotted the proto-nation who would eventually become his longtime companion near here peacefully tending to his lands, both curious and frightened of the at once calmly tacit and explosively aggressive young Svealand.
The Swede stole a sideways glance to his long-time companion as the tiny Toyota traversed the town’s streets. The edges of his lips curled slightly, his cheeks forcing him into the beginnings of what might have been called a little bit of a grin. They were both so odd back then; odd, that is, in the fact that the glaring dichotomy that existed between the duo’s cultures and personalities was held together almost solely by a mutual naivety of the world outside their own and a curiosity of each other. The kind of oddity that, as Berwald looked back was just…well, cute, in a way.
And, above all else, fortunate: he oftentimes tried to think of the what-if, but couldn’t imagine a world where the Dane, the Norwegian, or God forbid the Russian had found Tino first. A world he had to face alone. A world where he wasn’t cramped into a tiny car beside the one thing that mattered to him more than all his festivals or his crafts or his precious rules and customs of how things should be done in his house. It was almost too much of a stretch to imagine, but he sometimes came to feel that he had depended upon the Finn to keep him sane and grounded almost as much as the Finn had depended upon the Swede for simple survival…
“Alright, Berwald, here we are!” The cheerful chirp of his driver broke his thoughts, and his expression voided itself like someone slamming heavy blinds over a window into which they never meant for anyone to see in the first place. Before the Finn had a chance to notice, his gaze darted outside the passenger window and his mouth fell into a flat line, though an edge seemed slightly sucked-in. How embarrassing, thinking such ridiculous thoughts here of all places, and now of all times…
He took much longer than the Finn in stretching his cramped muscles, but oh! How good it felt! He couldn’t stop himself from emitting small grunts of satisfaction as he felt his joints grind to life. As he woke his limbs, Berwald gazed around; they were definitely in Nådendal, at some public parking place in town, but why Nådendal? He vaguely remembered something about a big music festival that was in this town every year around this time for about a week or two. The Swede really liked The Arts – loved it, in fact. Especially the music. He was absolutely certain Tino knew him well enough to know this fact. Could that be the “big surprise” his friend had planned?
Berwald quietly hoped against hope that was so as he gathered his little pack full of walking-day essentials and followed closely behind Tino from the parking lot and into…a waiting bus full of young families and little children!
Wait, what? Berwald became confused. Visibly so, even, as his usual stoic exterior was swiftly replaced by an eyebrow-raised hard stare before any money could even be retrieved for the fare. First of all was the fact that they were obviously entering into another period of sitting, which caused the Swede to wonder if it was really necessary to dress for walking if they were going to be taking other modes of transportation to wherever it was they were going.
That “wherever it was” also happened to be the second point of confusion. It was true that he didn’t know much about the nuances of Finnish children, but he had a general idea that there couldn’t be too much of a difference between them and Swedish children. To his knowledge, they didn’t typically get on busses with their parents to go to music festivals very often, which led him to believe – with a somewhat mild measure of disappointment, if he was entirely honest – that they weren’t, in fact, going to the Nådendal Music Festival. Or, at least not right away.
“Ah…Fin, where ‘xactly’re we…?” The Swede leaned in a bit and asked, his low voice trailing off as the two of them moved down the bus’s middle aisle to a pair of open seats. He could physically feel the eyes of some curious Finnish children upon him. Wide-eyed stares, quizzical stares, blank stares. It wasn’t the kids that bothered him; he generally liked them, in a sense. However, with as many children as there were…well, suffice it to say, Berwald’s mental list of “things Tino has planned as a surprise” shrank considerably.
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A/N
It's 3:20 am. I apologize for errors I haven't caught, and the general lame rambliness of the post...which turned out longer than planned.
*laughs at almost allowing things to "shank considerably"*
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Post by Finland on Mar 21, 2011 20:10:30 GMT -5
Tino smirked as he slipped the driver the ten euro fare. He’d taken a glance over his shoulder at the Swede and spotted the confused furrow of his brow. Wherever Berwald had thought they were going, his assumptions must have been proved wrong as soon as they mounted the steps of the bus.
Rightfully so, the Finn thought as he weaved his way through the legs and purses and backpacks in the aisle. How could Berwald have suspected something like this? Taking a look around the seats, he confirmed that most of the passengers were children with their parents or maybe grandparents. The atmosphere inside was full of movement and the chatter of the kids. Finnish, Swedish and even a little English mingled into one excited hum.
Tino could feel the Swede hovering just behind him when he had stooped to ask, “Ah …Fin, where ‘xactly’re we…?”
“All in good time,” Tino replied in a sing-song voice, making his way to a couple of empty window seats separating a pair of families and then stowing his pack on the overhead luggage rack, though not before taking out his compact camera and slipping it into the pocket of his jeans. He plopped himself down beside a middle-aged woman and motioned for Berwald to take the open seat between himself and some child.
The Finn realized how strange they must have looked – two adult men with no children on a bus to such a place – but he didn’t mind. He liked being with Berwald no matter where they were or what the occasion. Whatever others thought wouldn’t stop him from being with his best friend.
After a few more people boarded, the driver cranked the engine. The heavy idle of the bus earned an excited squeal from many of the children (and also Tino, though he wouldn’t admit it). The doors hissed closed and the group was off. Tino turned his attention out the large window behind him. With the noise from the engine and the overlapping shouts of children and parents trying to calm said children, there was little point in trying to chat with the Swede. Outside, the public lot began to disappear behind them and the scenery of Old Naantali came into view. It was mid-morning now, and the bustle of the city had only increased. For several minutes, he was content to watch the scenery. The sight of a tourist snapping a picture caught his attention at last.
“Oh yeah!” he gasped, taking his camera out and turning it on. “I promised Ta that I’d take pictures. Document the trip, y’know?” Leaning in against Berwald, he held the camera away from them with one hand. “Smile, Berwald! Sano ‘muikku’!” Sporting a cheesy, toothy grin of his own, he held down the shutter button until the flash. He knew the Swede wasn’t normally one for posing for pictures, but a promise was a promise. And honestly, it was fun trying to see whether or not he could photograph the rarity that was Berwald’s smile. Tino often mused that the feeling one got after accomplishing such a feat must have been comparable to what wildlife photographers felt after snapping a shot of some uncommon animal. After confirming that he’d gotten both of their faces in the picture without chopping off someone’s head, allowing Berwald to see the photo, he turned the camera off and stashed it in his pocket.
The bus grinded to a halt on the side of the road, just meters from the coast. As everyone else started to disembark, corralling their children through the narrow aisle, Tino stood and retrieved his bag. Keeping close to Berwald, he followed the crowd off the bus and towards a white foot bridge. It didn't take long to cross over the water to the little island on the other side.
“We’re here, Berwald,” Tino declared as they neared the end of the bridge, finally arriving at their destination and coming to a large, colorful sign.
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