remix story
Apr. 2nd, 2006 05:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oiranTitle: Joyeux Anniversaire, Cher Albert (Dirge for Solo Piano)
Remix of: Joyeux Anniversaire by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
arislanchan
Fandom: Gankutsuou
Author: velvetglove
Rating: PG-13 at most
Spoilers: MAJOR for Episode 18.
Summary: Franz recounts Albert's 15th and 16th birthdays. What a difference a year can make.
Gankutsuou is, in short, an animated retelling of the Count of Monte Cristo.
the long version:I had never read The Count of Monte Cristo and, other than knowing that it was a "revenge story," I wasn't aware of any particulars. In fact, I was under the impression that it was a sort of swashbuckler tale with more derring-do and descriptions of fights than I care to force myself to read. In other words, I thought it was "for boys" of a wholesome, 1940s variety. My only reason for watching that first episode was entirely due to the lurid pull of still images of the art and descriptions of the unique animation techniques used extensively throughout. Basically, people and perspectives move, but colors and patterns do not. So, as a character walks around, it is as if his or her garments are actually moving stencils held up before a garish pattern. And then multiply that by every garment on every character, as well as a great deal of the landscape, and you end up with something a bit like a kaleidoscope full of chase scenes. I understand that some people find it a little busy. There are images and video here in Engrish, and here in Japanese. For some reason, the trailer on the English language site is edited in such a way as to minimize the amazingly intricate and dizzying animation style and to make it look as much like a random action series as possible. At one time there was a trailer on the Japanese site, but I can't find it today - however, there are stills under "Production Notes" that provide a good example of the sort of visual overload Gankutsuou provides.
I have since started to read the Dumas book, and I must admit that I'm disappointed. It's often described as a "literary classic," which is total bunk. It's a pre-Victorian action pulp, and it's definitely entertaining, but its appeal is not exactly cerebral. I am about 2/3 of the way through (it's a very thick book) and the traps are still being set. The main characters are...typical of the time during which they were written. In contrast, the anime characters are very engaging and relatable - and not just compared to most anime, but to most films or series of any type. Although the anime takes place in the future and involves some space travel, the basic elements and cast of major characters are the same. There is betrayal, vengeance, and a lot of angst. There's homoerotic longing, too, which wasn't in the book (at least not as far as I've read!). Apparently, the resolution of many situations differs from book to anime, as well, though I can't speak to that as of yet. In the event that someone will actually check out the series based on my recommendation here, I'm trying to avoid spoilers while still giving enough information to let this story stand alone (if somewhat shakily), but I can say that a challenge for a duel issued by Albert de Morcerf to the Count has a very different outcome to that in the book, and this story focuses on those events, as well as the recurring "birthday" symbolism throughout the animated story.
As a side note, the challenge archive opened on my birthday. Unlike the good little boys and girls who submitted their stories on time, I sent mine in 6 days late, i.e., at 11:30 on 03/26. Birthdays are not happy in the Gankutsuou universe, and my anxiety about my lack of accomplishment in relationship to my own birthday #40 was much amplified by writing this story. I'm kind of stupid about things like this, and it took me a long time to figure out why my internal drama knob was turned all the way to 11 on said birthday.
cheeze alert: The melodramatic dialog pre-dream (yes, there's a dream sequence) and especially that at the end of the story, is taken from the fansubbed translation done by Anime-Kraze, which is where I got my copies of the Gankutsuou files. If I was going to use these scenes, I felt that I did have to use the actual dialogue, rather than making up something better. So: the cheeze is not my fault, but my burden.
a note on this story as a REMIX: I always go a lot farther with this challenge than is perhaps necessary, and I know some people think I just go too far, period. I have yet to be chastised or warned by the organizers, and thus I've continued to do remix with as much "mix" as possible. I chose Arislan's birthday story to remix because ideas of birth, death, randomness, fate and justice are so tightly linked in Gankutsuou, and figure so blatantly in the series' plot. The title sequence for the series shows the three young central characters running on a beach on a windy day. During the series itself, it is eventually suggested that this probably took place on Albert's 15th birthday. Other events in my story definitely take place on Albert's 16th birthday. The original story written byarislanchan is an AU, at least by my definition, and I've actually returned it to canon's tender embrace. Every year, my "remix" seems to push at the parameters of what constitutes such a story. In this instance, I have preserved the timeframe and characters but, by using the canon and implied canon, I definitely had to change the plot of the story entirely. I have a feeling the original author is none to pleased about this due to her complete lack of response. Considering that this is my fourth go-round with the remix challenge, I'm actually pretty lucky that this is my first instance of a "recipient" not liking what I have on offer. And, yes, I would do remix again, because I'm insane.
**************
Joyeux Anniversaire, Cher Albert (Dirge for Solo Piano)
~~~
Franz' birthday is usually a quiet affair. The last party arranged for him had to be canceled due to his father's untimely death. Whether or not his feelings of guilt are warranted, Franz hasn't been in the mood for a party of his own since that time. His mother, benignly neglectful at the best of times, obliges him in this regard by letting the day pass without cakes or presents. Separate from all sobering reminders of death, it's often hard to muster enthusiasm for festivities because the early spring date means that the day is usually wet, gray and dismal.
Albert's late-summer birthday, however, tends to be hot but not sweltering with clear, vivid blue skies. Like the season, Albert is bright, brash, and without care, and Franz has always anticipated celebrating his friend's birthday above any other holiday or event.
This year, however, things would be different. Franz had been so focused on discovering the truth about the Count that he'd been oblivious of the significance of the approaching date. As it is, any effort that he or Eugenie might have put into planning a surprise for Albert would have been for naught, as there was no way they could have anticipated that Albert would make other plans.
Had Albert himself been aware of the date when he'd issued his challenge. Not that it matters. Albert will not be fighting any duels - Franz will see to that. Albert is a better fighter than Franz, thanks to his father's training. In fact, everything Franz knows about handling a weapon was learned from Albert. However, Franz is not willing to risk Albert's life, even if Albert feels otherwise.
Franz is not naive. He does not believe that good always triumphs over evil. The Count may be evil, but he is also a remarkable man, if he is a man at all. Franz has no doubt that the Count is an excellent swordsman, nor does he think that the Count would hesitate to kill a challenger. Franz doesn't want to die, but taking Albert's place is his only sensible option. Albert loves him, but Albert can live without him, especially with Eugenie at his side. Franz, however, cannot, and will not, tolerate a world without Albert. There's an irony to this, of course, as it's a selfishness born of unsatisfied longing that drives him, just as it drove Albert's father to the point of betrayal, and continues to fuel the Count's desire for vengeance. Franz is betraying Albert just as surely as Edmond Dantes' friends betrayed him.
Franz is afraid that he might die, and thinks it's even probable that it will happen, but what concerns him most at this moment is the fact that death would prevent him from meeting Eugenie and Albert at their usual cafe to raise a glass in his friend's honor.
Sore from his restless night on the rough floorboards, Franz moves stiffly. He doesn't feel rested, and only knows he slept because he remembers his dream. A quick glance at Albert reassures him that his friend is sleeping soundly, head pillowed on his arm and mouth slack. The square of sky outside the window is already glowing faintly, the stars disappearing, but the clock shows that he has the better part of an hour to spend with Albert before he must leave.
If it were possible, he'd leave something of himself and take something of Albert away, absorbed into muscle and memory. He'd perform an alchemical exchange and go into battle with the taste of Albert in his mouth. But he knows no magic, so he just watches as Albert gently snores. The time passes more quickly than he'd hoped, and when there are only a few minutes remaining, he bends to whisper in Albert's ear, "Happy Birthday." He hesitates, considering whether he should say more. But, no - he's said it all in the letter. Instead, he repeats, "Happy birthday, dear friend."
****
Through the ringing in his ears, there's the sound of birdsong. The birds were quiet during the battle, he remembers that, but he can't remember when they started to sing again. Albert is with him, crying. He's bandaging Franz' ribs with strips torn from his shirt, but the blood blooms through the white fabric as soon as it touches his skin. The more blood, the more tears. Franz wishes there was some way he could comfort Albert.
"Sorry...that things turned out this way." He means to make light, but Albert only cries harder. Franz continues, "But...you...trained me well in sword fighting, so it was a pretty good...match, you know..."
Albert sobs harder. "No more! Don't...don't talk any more!"
"Idiot," Franz says affectionately. "Are you in any position to give me orders?" It takes effort to twist his mouth into a semblance of a smile, but the effect is ruined when he chokes and coughs, his mouth filling then spilling over with blood.
Albert wails and struggles to heave Franz' limp body upright. All the jostling hurts, but it hurts less than it might have just moments ago, and Franz thinks this probably means he's running out of time. Even if he were brave enough to tell Albert the things he wrote in his letter face to face, he no longer has the time to do so. Instead, he says, "Al...bert. Yesterday I had a dream..."
****
The dream was a very good one, made of both fantasy and memory. His dream-self was older, as were Albert and Eugenie and a few details were new - her hair was longer, Albert's shorter - but they were in a place he remembered well, the beach where they'd spent Albert's fifteenth birthday. He was with Albert, sprawled beside him on a blanket. Eugenie waved to them from the top of a dune, her voice lost to the breeze, and the wind blew her hat out of her grasp, just as he'd known it would. Franz smiled, perfectly content, as Albert lifted a lazy hand to wave back at her. This might have been, or perhaps could be, the happiest day of his life.
****
The breeze coaxed loose the scarf tied at the back of Eugenie's head and caught the broad brim of her straw hat, lifting it high overhead to spin above the waves. Eugenie chased it as far as she could and danced, frustrated, at the edge of the surf, the toes of her shoes wet with foam. "My hat! Albert, come help me!"
Franz watched with concern, but left all rescue efforts to her fiance. Instead, he picked through their lunch basket in search of food that hadn't been permeated with sand. TA few minutes in the brisk breeze had left the bread and cheese unpalatably gritty. Only the wine had been spared, which had at least given them an excuse to get a little drunk. addition to the celebratory champagne they'd had at breakfast with Albert's parents, they'd also managed to smuggle three bottles of red out of the villa's wine cellar. Of these, only one bottle remained unopened. Franz decided to change that, and finally found the corkscrew hidden in a fold of the blanket.
After calling for some time, Eugenie's cries of distress finally penetrated Albert's daze. He struggled to sit upright on the rumpled blanket, not bothering to hide his petulant frown. Eugenie stomped her foot in frustration at his lazy response, but her had had been irretrievable long before she'd alerted Albert. Realizing this, Albert stopped halfway down the sloping dune and called out, "Eugenie, it's no use." Franz watched as the pale disk of her hat dissolved against the backdrop of the shimmering, sun-dappled sea.
Albert turned and shuffled back up the dune and flopped down next to Franz on their picnic blanket. He clutched his head as if in pain, then peered between his fingers at Eugenie trudging slowly toward them, her expression crestfallen. Albert whispered, "I think she's mad at me."
"On the bright side," Franz offered, keeping his voice low and nudging Albert with his shoulder. "you won't have to fetch it for her any more."
"I'll be sure to tell her that," Albert said dryly. "I'm sure it will cheer her right up."
Eugenie stood at the blanket's edge, her mouth twisted with the effort of holding back tears. Albert shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted up at her. "It'll be all right, Eugenie. You can get another hat."
"No." Eugenie shook her head adamantly. "That one was my favorite. It wouldn't be the same." Franz thought he knew what she meant. Eugenie had worn that hat every day of their vacation, the wide brim shading her pale skin as the sun turned Franz' hair white and put licks of amber in Albert's messy chestnut curls. During reckless drives along rough country roads, it had flown from the car at every too-sharp turn and harrowing near-miss. More than once, Franz had laughed himself sick in the back seat of the roadster while Albert, swearing under his breath, clambered through brambles and over fences to retrieve the cursed hat for her.
"All this fuss about a hat," Albert said, shaking his head. "I don't see what the big deal is."
With a glare at Albert, Eugenie sat down and took off her shoes, shaking out sand. She stared out at the water with unseeing eyes, her shoulders sagging. The empty bottle at her side tilted, spilling the last few drops of wine to pink the sand. Franz was sure she was still thinking about the lost hat and all it represented. Without needing to be asked, Franz offered her the now-open bottle. Eugenie scanned the surrounding sand for a glass but, finding nothing, she shrugged and took a long sip directly from the bottle.
Franz drank, then it was Albert's turn. Still brooding, Eugenie ignored them, other than to take the bottle when it was handed to her. Franz settled back onto the blanket, companionably bumping hips, knees and shoulders against Albert's while he settled in. Albert's sun-warmed skin smelled good, or maybe it was the blanket, pulled from Albert's bed that morning. Sleepily he thought that if Albert's day was proving to be even half as enjoyable as his own, then Albert was having a very good birthday.
Everything was pleasantly fuzzy and Franz was wondering if he'd been hypnotized by the patterns of the sea birds circling overhead when Eugenie interrupted his reverie with a shove, her fingers digging into the ticklish place below his ribs. Taken by surprise, he yelped and curled into a defensive ball.
"Stop it!" He stayed curled up; he had too many sensitive places to cover with just two hands.
"Don't sleep," she insisted. "You too, Albert. Wake up!"
Albert scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and glared at her. "You're so loud! Did you wake us up just to keep you company?"
Eugenie glared back and shrugged haughtily. "What if I did?"
"It's my birthday," Albert pointed out. "Not yours."
"Then you shouldn't waste it away sleeping."
When Albert didn't bother to respond, she added, "There's a badminton set in the trunk of the car. I could set it up in no time." Her tone was hopeful, but the slope of her shoulders made it clear that she expected to be disappointed.
"Eugenie, please." Sprawled on his back, Albert covered his eyes with a forearm and waved her off with his other hand.
"Fine," she sniffed. "Be boring. See if I care."
Franz sat up and watched as Eugenie swept a rough circle of sand level with the flat of her hand. She placed an empty bottle in the center then fumbled it into a lazy spin that stopped with the neck of the bottle aimed at Albert.
"Hey, wake up." Franz gave Albert a nudge. "Eugenie needs something."
Albert's expression was sour. "What do you want?"
Eugenie pointed at him and announced. "I'm going to kiss you!"
Albert snorted. "Oh, we're playing this now, are we?" With a put-upon sigh, he got up on all fours and leaned forward so that Eugenie might place a peck against his lips.
Eugenie frowned. "That wasn't much of a kiss."
Albert shrugged. "If you'd prefer to play by yourself…"
"Oh, stop!" Eugenie dismissed Albert's suggestion with a toss of her head, then flicked the side of the bottle with a fingernail. "Go on, then. It's your turn."
Albert's spin pointed squarely at Eugenie. Perhaps mindful of her complaint, Albert lifted a hand to tilt her chin, then kissed her long enough to bring a soft sigh from her lips. Flustered, she spun the bottle hard and fast, sending it sideways across the sand.
Albert snorted and said, "You spin like you drive!"
"So what? I'm a perfectly good driver," she said, ignoring their snickers. The bottle wobbled to a halt in front of Franz.
"No." Franz shook his head emphatically. "Definitely not in front of your fiancé!"
"It's all right," Albert reassured him. "It's only a game."
"Come on," Eugenie urged. "It's just for fun."
Reluctantly, Franz crawled the short distance to Eugenie's side. Eugenie smiled, then giggled, covering her face with her hands. Franz touched her neck, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. Acutely aware that Albert was watching, Franz brought his lips to meet hers, just barely. They were faintly moist, perhaps from Albert's kiss. Spurred by the thought, Franz kissed her with more intent, lips parting to search for a trace of Albert on her mouth. Eugenie gasped but lifted a hand to clutch his hair. Franz had to push her away, albeit gently, to break the kiss.
"Hey!" Albert lightly punched Franz' shoulder. "You've got your own fiancée, you know."
"As if you'd really be jealous." Eugenie rolled her eyes at the absurdity. "Your turn, Franz."
Franz' first spin pointed inconclusively at an expanse of empty sand. The second was aimed directly at Albert.
"No. Absolutely not." Franz shook his head adamantly. "We can't―-"
"Why not?" Franz had never seen this side of Eugenie, and he wasn't sure he liked it. "No one will know but me. Besides, I…I want to see it." Following a brief, stunned silence, Albert whooped with laughter. Franz, however, remained speechless. Mortified, Eugenie clapped a hand over her mouth and blushed a furious red. "No, no, I meant―
"You pervert!" Albert crowed.
Franz teased, "She always seemed like such a nice girl, didn't she, Albert?"
"I'm not a pervert!" she said indignantly. "I...I'm...open-minded."
"An open-minded pervert, maybe," Albert remarked. You really want to see this?"
"Not if you're going to make fun of me." Eugenie crossed her arms over her chest. "If you don't want to play the game, just say so."
Franz fully expected Albert to announce that he'd just as soon not play, given the choice, but Albert said nothing. Instead, he sat in front of Franz, their knees touching.
"We don't have to do it," Franz murmured.
"'S'okay," Albert whispered back. "It'll make her laugh, right?" He shook his head in wonderment. "She's so weird."
"Yeah." Franz tried to keep in mind that this was just a stunt, a show for Eugenie.
Franz had no time to think before Albert's tightly pursed lips pressed ever so briefly and disappointingly against his own. However, Albert didn't even have time to settle back on his heels before Eugenie protested. "That's not fair!" she insisted, shaking her head. "It should be a proper kiss."
"A 'proper' kiss between two men!" Albert groused, although he smiled as he said it. "That's not likely, is it?" He put his hands on Franz' shoulders and said, "Okay, then. You ready?"
"Wait!" Eugenie put a restraining hand on Albert's chest. "It's Franz' turn, Albert. He should be the one to kiss you."
Albert considered this. "I guess that's right. Well, okay. Go ahead and kiss me, Franz."
Eugenie shrieked with glee and pointed at Franz' reddening face. "Franz, you're blushing!"
Franz shot her a sharp look before turning to face Albert again. This would likely be the only legitmate opportunity he'd ever have to kiss his friend, and he wanted to do whatever he could to immortalize the moment. Albert's hair was blown into wild cowlicks, and the wind lifted the collar of his shirt to flap lazily at his ear. Close in, there were freckles visible along the very tops of his cheekbones and over the bridge of his nose. The soft down on his upper lip was sun-bleached, too, and still too fine to shave. Franz knew that Albert was hoping to grow a mustache as luxuriant as his father's.
Impatiently, Albert said, "Hey, Franz!"
"Yes?"
Albert crossed his eyes and burped, then laughed at his own physical wit.
"Stop it. Don't make me laugh," Franz warned. "And you have to close your eyes."
"Why?"
"Just do it, okay?"
Albert made a face, but shut his eyes.
Franz wiped his clammy palms on his pants and placed his hands on Albert's shoulders. Albert seemed relaxed and his face was, as always, open and trusting. When Franz touched him again, a hand light against the nape of his neck, Albert's eyelids twitched, but he didn't stiffen or flinch from the contact. Franz took a deep breath and closed his eyes before leaning in. Albert's mouth was softer than he'd expected. He turned his head, just a little, so that their mouths fit together perfectly and his body overflowed with sparks. He held Albert's face with both hands, willing Albert to understand what this kiss meant to him, and rejoiced as Albert leaned into the pressure and braced himself with a hand on Franz' thigh. Franz broke contact just long enough to note the flush in Albert's cheeks, to witness the eager confusion that animated his face, before kissing him again. He felt suddenly, fiercely greedy: he'd never thought he'd touch Albert like this, but now he wanted to taste, as well.
Albert didn't merely allow him the liberty to do as he pleased. Instead, he responded with clumsy enthusiasm, his tongue meeting Franz' in an awkward and all-too-brief tangle. Dimly, through the rush of blood in his ears, Franz heard Eugenie's delighted squeal.
Albert sat back on his heels and swiped at his wet mouth with his sleeve. "Wow!" His wide eyes shone with admiration. "Where'd you learn to do that?"
Franz' buoyant heart faltered a moment, then sank. Albert had felt the kiss, of course, but not the emotion behind it.
Clearly impressed, Albert continued, "Why you don't have a girl you like, I'll never know! I know you've never kissed Valentine like that, or she'd be following you around like a dog! C'mon, Franz, who taught you to kiss like that?"
There was only one thing to do. Franz arranged his face in a superior smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"I asked, didn't I?"
"It's not as though you'd know her, anyway," Franz said airily. "And I'll never see her again, I'm sure."
Eugenie joined in. "Oh, come on, Franz! Tell us."
Sighing, Franz made her up on the spot. "Remember when I took that orbiter cruise with my uncle? There was this diplomat's daughter--"
"Where was she from?"
Franz shot Eugenie a sharp look. "I don't remember. I didn't ask. Does it matter? She was a little older and--"
Albert excitedly interrupted. "What did she look like? Did she have big--" - he darted a guilty glance at Eugenie - "I mean, was she...developed?"
Red-faced, Eugenie jabbed Albert in the arm with a sharp-knuckled fist. As he rubbed the spot, miming extreme pain and suffering, she fumed, "It's not like that matters, Albert." She began collecting the remains of their meal, packing dishes and trash into the picnic basket with a little more force than absolutely necessary.
Albert shook his head emphatically. "No, it does matter. It's an entire experience, right? Right?" He turned to Franz, seeking agreement.
"Right." Franz smiled. "You don't just like part of a person. You like the whole person." He got to his feet and stretched, brushing sand from the seat of his pants, then bent to pull the half-buried blanket from the sand. The deepening sky was pink at the horizon, and the breeze had grown chilly.
Her face still red, Eugenie complained, "I don't understand why boys are so obsessed with breasts."
Wisely not bothering to attempt an explanation, Franz took the picnic basket from her hands and crammed the folded blanket in on top of the dirty plates. He stood closer to Eugenie, blocking the wind, as she shivered and hugged herself against the chill. They both looked expectantly at Albert, still comfortably slumped on the cooling sand.
"What?" he asked, incredulous. "Are we already done playing?"
****
The broken armor curves around them like the shell of an egg and, even though the air reeks of overheated metal and machine grease, it feels safe here. Albert is so close that his tears fall on Franz' face. Albert holds him tight, as if he could keep him in the world if he just tried hard enough. But no matter what Albert does, Franz feels his life slipping from him, sparks down a drain, and he's the saddest he's ever been. He'd told himself that he would die without regrets, but it's not true. He should have said so many things...
Albert struggles to pull him closer, his hands slipping in blood. His hand tangles in Franz' hair, gently cradling his head. Albert's cheek is wet against his own and the tears that touch his lips taste like the sea. Albert kisses him at the corner of his eye, like a brother would. There's a sensation of melting in Franz' chest, something that feels so sweet, and the bliss flows indistinguishable from the blood. He hears Albert's voice from a great distance. "Say, Franz, when we're like this, it's warm, isn't it? Franz...?"
It's cold where Franz is, but he knows what Albert means. He's going to savor the feeling for the little while it lasts. He'd rather live, but he can think of worse ways to die. At least this is where he belongs: at Albert's side, where it's warm.
~~~
Remix of: Joyeux Anniversaire by
arislanchanFandom: Gankutsuou
Author: velvetglove
Rating: PG-13 at most
Spoilers: MAJOR for Episode 18.
Summary: Franz recounts Albert's 15th and 16th birthdays. What a difference a year can make.
Gankutsuou is, in short, an animated retelling of the Count of Monte Cristo.
the long version:I had never read The Count of Monte Cristo and, other than knowing that it was a "revenge story," I wasn't aware of any particulars. In fact, I was under the impression that it was a sort of swashbuckler tale with more derring-do and descriptions of fights than I care to force myself to read. In other words, I thought it was "for boys" of a wholesome, 1940s variety. My only reason for watching that first episode was entirely due to the lurid pull of still images of the art and descriptions of the unique animation techniques used extensively throughout. Basically, people and perspectives move, but colors and patterns do not. So, as a character walks around, it is as if his or her garments are actually moving stencils held up before a garish pattern. And then multiply that by every garment on every character, as well as a great deal of the landscape, and you end up with something a bit like a kaleidoscope full of chase scenes. I understand that some people find it a little busy. There are images and video here in Engrish, and here in Japanese. For some reason, the trailer on the English language site is edited in such a way as to minimize the amazingly intricate and dizzying animation style and to make it look as much like a random action series as possible. At one time there was a trailer on the Japanese site, but I can't find it today - however, there are stills under "Production Notes" that provide a good example of the sort of visual overload Gankutsuou provides.
I have since started to read the Dumas book, and I must admit that I'm disappointed. It's often described as a "literary classic," which is total bunk. It's a pre-Victorian action pulp, and it's definitely entertaining, but its appeal is not exactly cerebral. I am about 2/3 of the way through (it's a very thick book) and the traps are still being set. The main characters are...typical of the time during which they were written. In contrast, the anime characters are very engaging and relatable - and not just compared to most anime, but to most films or series of any type. Although the anime takes place in the future and involves some space travel, the basic elements and cast of major characters are the same. There is betrayal, vengeance, and a lot of angst. There's homoerotic longing, too, which wasn't in the book (at least not as far as I've read!). Apparently, the resolution of many situations differs from book to anime, as well, though I can't speak to that as of yet. In the event that someone will actually check out the series based on my recommendation here, I'm trying to avoid spoilers while still giving enough information to let this story stand alone (if somewhat shakily), but I can say that a challenge for a duel issued by Albert de Morcerf to the Count has a very different outcome to that in the book, and this story focuses on those events, as well as the recurring "birthday" symbolism throughout the animated story.
As a side note, the challenge archive opened on my birthday. Unlike the good little boys and girls who submitted their stories on time, I sent mine in 6 days late, i.e., at 11:30 on 03/26. Birthdays are not happy in the Gankutsuou universe, and my anxiety about my lack of accomplishment in relationship to my own birthday #40 was much amplified by writing this story. I'm kind of stupid about things like this, and it took me a long time to figure out why my internal drama knob was turned all the way to 11 on said birthday.
cheeze alert: The melodramatic dialog pre-dream (yes, there's a dream sequence) and especially that at the end of the story, is taken from the fansubbed translation done by Anime-Kraze, which is where I got my copies of the Gankutsuou files. If I was going to use these scenes, I felt that I did have to use the actual dialogue, rather than making up something better. So: the cheeze is not my fault, but my burden.
a note on this story as a REMIX: I always go a lot farther with this challenge than is perhaps necessary, and I know some people think I just go too far, period. I have yet to be chastised or warned by the organizers, and thus I've continued to do remix with as much "mix" as possible. I chose Arislan's birthday story to remix because ideas of birth, death, randomness, fate and justice are so tightly linked in Gankutsuou, and figure so blatantly in the series' plot. The title sequence for the series shows the three young central characters running on a beach on a windy day. During the series itself, it is eventually suggested that this probably took place on Albert's 15th birthday. Other events in my story definitely take place on Albert's 16th birthday. The original story written by
arislanchan is an AU, at least by my definition, and I've actually returned it to canon's tender embrace. Every year, my "remix" seems to push at the parameters of what constitutes such a story. In this instance, I have preserved the timeframe and characters but, by using the canon and implied canon, I definitely had to change the plot of the story entirely. I have a feeling the original author is none to pleased about this due to her complete lack of response. Considering that this is my fourth go-round with the remix challenge, I'm actually pretty lucky that this is my first instance of a "recipient" not liking what I have on offer. And, yes, I would do remix again, because I'm insane. **************
Joyeux Anniversaire, Cher Albert (Dirge for Solo Piano)
~~~
Franz' birthday is usually a quiet affair. The last party arranged for him had to be canceled due to his father's untimely death. Whether or not his feelings of guilt are warranted, Franz hasn't been in the mood for a party of his own since that time. His mother, benignly neglectful at the best of times, obliges him in this regard by letting the day pass without cakes or presents. Separate from all sobering reminders of death, it's often hard to muster enthusiasm for festivities because the early spring date means that the day is usually wet, gray and dismal.
Albert's late-summer birthday, however, tends to be hot but not sweltering with clear, vivid blue skies. Like the season, Albert is bright, brash, and without care, and Franz has always anticipated celebrating his friend's birthday above any other holiday or event.
This year, however, things would be different. Franz had been so focused on discovering the truth about the Count that he'd been oblivious of the significance of the approaching date. As it is, any effort that he or Eugenie might have put into planning a surprise for Albert would have been for naught, as there was no way they could have anticipated that Albert would make other plans.
Had Albert himself been aware of the date when he'd issued his challenge. Not that it matters. Albert will not be fighting any duels - Franz will see to that. Albert is a better fighter than Franz, thanks to his father's training. In fact, everything Franz knows about handling a weapon was learned from Albert. However, Franz is not willing to risk Albert's life, even if Albert feels otherwise.
Franz is not naive. He does not believe that good always triumphs over evil. The Count may be evil, but he is also a remarkable man, if he is a man at all. Franz has no doubt that the Count is an excellent swordsman, nor does he think that the Count would hesitate to kill a challenger. Franz doesn't want to die, but taking Albert's place is his only sensible option. Albert loves him, but Albert can live without him, especially with Eugenie at his side. Franz, however, cannot, and will not, tolerate a world without Albert. There's an irony to this, of course, as it's a selfishness born of unsatisfied longing that drives him, just as it drove Albert's father to the point of betrayal, and continues to fuel the Count's desire for vengeance. Franz is betraying Albert just as surely as Edmond Dantes' friends betrayed him.
Franz is afraid that he might die, and thinks it's even probable that it will happen, but what concerns him most at this moment is the fact that death would prevent him from meeting Eugenie and Albert at their usual cafe to raise a glass in his friend's honor.
Sore from his restless night on the rough floorboards, Franz moves stiffly. He doesn't feel rested, and only knows he slept because he remembers his dream. A quick glance at Albert reassures him that his friend is sleeping soundly, head pillowed on his arm and mouth slack. The square of sky outside the window is already glowing faintly, the stars disappearing, but the clock shows that he has the better part of an hour to spend with Albert before he must leave.
If it were possible, he'd leave something of himself and take something of Albert away, absorbed into muscle and memory. He'd perform an alchemical exchange and go into battle with the taste of Albert in his mouth. But he knows no magic, so he just watches as Albert gently snores. The time passes more quickly than he'd hoped, and when there are only a few minutes remaining, he bends to whisper in Albert's ear, "Happy Birthday." He hesitates, considering whether he should say more. But, no - he's said it all in the letter. Instead, he repeats, "Happy birthday, dear friend."
****
Through the ringing in his ears, there's the sound of birdsong. The birds were quiet during the battle, he remembers that, but he can't remember when they started to sing again. Albert is with him, crying. He's bandaging Franz' ribs with strips torn from his shirt, but the blood blooms through the white fabric as soon as it touches his skin. The more blood, the more tears. Franz wishes there was some way he could comfort Albert.
"Sorry...that things turned out this way." He means to make light, but Albert only cries harder. Franz continues, "But...you...trained me well in sword fighting, so it was a pretty good...match, you know..."
Albert sobs harder. "No more! Don't...don't talk any more!"
"Idiot," Franz says affectionately. "Are you in any position to give me orders?" It takes effort to twist his mouth into a semblance of a smile, but the effect is ruined when he chokes and coughs, his mouth filling then spilling over with blood.
Albert wails and struggles to heave Franz' limp body upright. All the jostling hurts, but it hurts less than it might have just moments ago, and Franz thinks this probably means he's running out of time. Even if he were brave enough to tell Albert the things he wrote in his letter face to face, he no longer has the time to do so. Instead, he says, "Al...bert. Yesterday I had a dream..."
****
The dream was a very good one, made of both fantasy and memory. His dream-self was older, as were Albert and Eugenie and a few details were new - her hair was longer, Albert's shorter - but they were in a place he remembered well, the beach where they'd spent Albert's fifteenth birthday. He was with Albert, sprawled beside him on a blanket. Eugenie waved to them from the top of a dune, her voice lost to the breeze, and the wind blew her hat out of her grasp, just as he'd known it would. Franz smiled, perfectly content, as Albert lifted a lazy hand to wave back at her. This might have been, or perhaps could be, the happiest day of his life.
****
The breeze coaxed loose the scarf tied at the back of Eugenie's head and caught the broad brim of her straw hat, lifting it high overhead to spin above the waves. Eugenie chased it as far as she could and danced, frustrated, at the edge of the surf, the toes of her shoes wet with foam. "My hat! Albert, come help me!"
Franz watched with concern, but left all rescue efforts to her fiance. Instead, he picked through their lunch basket in search of food that hadn't been permeated with sand. TA few minutes in the brisk breeze had left the bread and cheese unpalatably gritty. Only the wine had been spared, which had at least given them an excuse to get a little drunk. addition to the celebratory champagne they'd had at breakfast with Albert's parents, they'd also managed to smuggle three bottles of red out of the villa's wine cellar. Of these, only one bottle remained unopened. Franz decided to change that, and finally found the corkscrew hidden in a fold of the blanket.
After calling for some time, Eugenie's cries of distress finally penetrated Albert's daze. He struggled to sit upright on the rumpled blanket, not bothering to hide his petulant frown. Eugenie stomped her foot in frustration at his lazy response, but her had had been irretrievable long before she'd alerted Albert. Realizing this, Albert stopped halfway down the sloping dune and called out, "Eugenie, it's no use." Franz watched as the pale disk of her hat dissolved against the backdrop of the shimmering, sun-dappled sea.
Albert turned and shuffled back up the dune and flopped down next to Franz on their picnic blanket. He clutched his head as if in pain, then peered between his fingers at Eugenie trudging slowly toward them, her expression crestfallen. Albert whispered, "I think she's mad at me."
"On the bright side," Franz offered, keeping his voice low and nudging Albert with his shoulder. "you won't have to fetch it for her any more."
"I'll be sure to tell her that," Albert said dryly. "I'm sure it will cheer her right up."
Eugenie stood at the blanket's edge, her mouth twisted with the effort of holding back tears. Albert shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted up at her. "It'll be all right, Eugenie. You can get another hat."
"No." Eugenie shook her head adamantly. "That one was my favorite. It wouldn't be the same." Franz thought he knew what she meant. Eugenie had worn that hat every day of their vacation, the wide brim shading her pale skin as the sun turned Franz' hair white and put licks of amber in Albert's messy chestnut curls. During reckless drives along rough country roads, it had flown from the car at every too-sharp turn and harrowing near-miss. More than once, Franz had laughed himself sick in the back seat of the roadster while Albert, swearing under his breath, clambered through brambles and over fences to retrieve the cursed hat for her.
"All this fuss about a hat," Albert said, shaking his head. "I don't see what the big deal is."
With a glare at Albert, Eugenie sat down and took off her shoes, shaking out sand. She stared out at the water with unseeing eyes, her shoulders sagging. The empty bottle at her side tilted, spilling the last few drops of wine to pink the sand. Franz was sure she was still thinking about the lost hat and all it represented. Without needing to be asked, Franz offered her the now-open bottle. Eugenie scanned the surrounding sand for a glass but, finding nothing, she shrugged and took a long sip directly from the bottle.
Franz drank, then it was Albert's turn. Still brooding, Eugenie ignored them, other than to take the bottle when it was handed to her. Franz settled back onto the blanket, companionably bumping hips, knees and shoulders against Albert's while he settled in. Albert's sun-warmed skin smelled good, or maybe it was the blanket, pulled from Albert's bed that morning. Sleepily he thought that if Albert's day was proving to be even half as enjoyable as his own, then Albert was having a very good birthday.
Everything was pleasantly fuzzy and Franz was wondering if he'd been hypnotized by the patterns of the sea birds circling overhead when Eugenie interrupted his reverie with a shove, her fingers digging into the ticklish place below his ribs. Taken by surprise, he yelped and curled into a defensive ball.
"Stop it!" He stayed curled up; he had too many sensitive places to cover with just two hands.
"Don't sleep," she insisted. "You too, Albert. Wake up!"
Albert scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and glared at her. "You're so loud! Did you wake us up just to keep you company?"
Eugenie glared back and shrugged haughtily. "What if I did?"
"It's my birthday," Albert pointed out. "Not yours."
"Then you shouldn't waste it away sleeping."
When Albert didn't bother to respond, she added, "There's a badminton set in the trunk of the car. I could set it up in no time." Her tone was hopeful, but the slope of her shoulders made it clear that she expected to be disappointed.
"Eugenie, please." Sprawled on his back, Albert covered his eyes with a forearm and waved her off with his other hand.
"Fine," she sniffed. "Be boring. See if I care."
Franz sat up and watched as Eugenie swept a rough circle of sand level with the flat of her hand. She placed an empty bottle in the center then fumbled it into a lazy spin that stopped with the neck of the bottle aimed at Albert.
"Hey, wake up." Franz gave Albert a nudge. "Eugenie needs something."
Albert's expression was sour. "What do you want?"
Eugenie pointed at him and announced. "I'm going to kiss you!"
Albert snorted. "Oh, we're playing this now, are we?" With a put-upon sigh, he got up on all fours and leaned forward so that Eugenie might place a peck against his lips.
Eugenie frowned. "That wasn't much of a kiss."
Albert shrugged. "If you'd prefer to play by yourself…"
"Oh, stop!" Eugenie dismissed Albert's suggestion with a toss of her head, then flicked the side of the bottle with a fingernail. "Go on, then. It's your turn."
Albert's spin pointed squarely at Eugenie. Perhaps mindful of her complaint, Albert lifted a hand to tilt her chin, then kissed her long enough to bring a soft sigh from her lips. Flustered, she spun the bottle hard and fast, sending it sideways across the sand.
Albert snorted and said, "You spin like you drive!"
"So what? I'm a perfectly good driver," she said, ignoring their snickers. The bottle wobbled to a halt in front of Franz.
"No." Franz shook his head emphatically. "Definitely not in front of your fiancé!"
"It's all right," Albert reassured him. "It's only a game."
"Come on," Eugenie urged. "It's just for fun."
Reluctantly, Franz crawled the short distance to Eugenie's side. Eugenie smiled, then giggled, covering her face with her hands. Franz touched her neck, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. Acutely aware that Albert was watching, Franz brought his lips to meet hers, just barely. They were faintly moist, perhaps from Albert's kiss. Spurred by the thought, Franz kissed her with more intent, lips parting to search for a trace of Albert on her mouth. Eugenie gasped but lifted a hand to clutch his hair. Franz had to push her away, albeit gently, to break the kiss.
"Hey!" Albert lightly punched Franz' shoulder. "You've got your own fiancée, you know."
"As if you'd really be jealous." Eugenie rolled her eyes at the absurdity. "Your turn, Franz."
Franz' first spin pointed inconclusively at an expanse of empty sand. The second was aimed directly at Albert.
"No. Absolutely not." Franz shook his head adamantly. "We can't―-"
"Why not?" Franz had never seen this side of Eugenie, and he wasn't sure he liked it. "No one will know but me. Besides, I…I want to see it." Following a brief, stunned silence, Albert whooped with laughter. Franz, however, remained speechless. Mortified, Eugenie clapped a hand over her mouth and blushed a furious red. "No, no, I meant―
"You pervert!" Albert crowed.
Franz teased, "She always seemed like such a nice girl, didn't she, Albert?"
"I'm not a pervert!" she said indignantly. "I...I'm...open-minded."
"An open-minded pervert, maybe," Albert remarked. You really want to see this?"
"Not if you're going to make fun of me." Eugenie crossed her arms over her chest. "If you don't want to play the game, just say so."
Franz fully expected Albert to announce that he'd just as soon not play, given the choice, but Albert said nothing. Instead, he sat in front of Franz, their knees touching.
"We don't have to do it," Franz murmured.
"'S'okay," Albert whispered back. "It'll make her laugh, right?" He shook his head in wonderment. "She's so weird."
"Yeah." Franz tried to keep in mind that this was just a stunt, a show for Eugenie.
Franz had no time to think before Albert's tightly pursed lips pressed ever so briefly and disappointingly against his own. However, Albert didn't even have time to settle back on his heels before Eugenie protested. "That's not fair!" she insisted, shaking her head. "It should be a proper kiss."
"A 'proper' kiss between two men!" Albert groused, although he smiled as he said it. "That's not likely, is it?" He put his hands on Franz' shoulders and said, "Okay, then. You ready?"
"Wait!" Eugenie put a restraining hand on Albert's chest. "It's Franz' turn, Albert. He should be the one to kiss you."
Albert considered this. "I guess that's right. Well, okay. Go ahead and kiss me, Franz."
Eugenie shrieked with glee and pointed at Franz' reddening face. "Franz, you're blushing!"
Franz shot her a sharp look before turning to face Albert again. This would likely be the only legitmate opportunity he'd ever have to kiss his friend, and he wanted to do whatever he could to immortalize the moment. Albert's hair was blown into wild cowlicks, and the wind lifted the collar of his shirt to flap lazily at his ear. Close in, there were freckles visible along the very tops of his cheekbones and over the bridge of his nose. The soft down on his upper lip was sun-bleached, too, and still too fine to shave. Franz knew that Albert was hoping to grow a mustache as luxuriant as his father's.
Impatiently, Albert said, "Hey, Franz!"
"Yes?"
Albert crossed his eyes and burped, then laughed at his own physical wit.
"Stop it. Don't make me laugh," Franz warned. "And you have to close your eyes."
"Why?"
"Just do it, okay?"
Albert made a face, but shut his eyes.
Franz wiped his clammy palms on his pants and placed his hands on Albert's shoulders. Albert seemed relaxed and his face was, as always, open and trusting. When Franz touched him again, a hand light against the nape of his neck, Albert's eyelids twitched, but he didn't stiffen or flinch from the contact. Franz took a deep breath and closed his eyes before leaning in. Albert's mouth was softer than he'd expected. He turned his head, just a little, so that their mouths fit together perfectly and his body overflowed with sparks. He held Albert's face with both hands, willing Albert to understand what this kiss meant to him, and rejoiced as Albert leaned into the pressure and braced himself with a hand on Franz' thigh. Franz broke contact just long enough to note the flush in Albert's cheeks, to witness the eager confusion that animated his face, before kissing him again. He felt suddenly, fiercely greedy: he'd never thought he'd touch Albert like this, but now he wanted to taste, as well.
Albert didn't merely allow him the liberty to do as he pleased. Instead, he responded with clumsy enthusiasm, his tongue meeting Franz' in an awkward and all-too-brief tangle. Dimly, through the rush of blood in his ears, Franz heard Eugenie's delighted squeal.
Albert sat back on his heels and swiped at his wet mouth with his sleeve. "Wow!" His wide eyes shone with admiration. "Where'd you learn to do that?"
Franz' buoyant heart faltered a moment, then sank. Albert had felt the kiss, of course, but not the emotion behind it.
Clearly impressed, Albert continued, "Why you don't have a girl you like, I'll never know! I know you've never kissed Valentine like that, or she'd be following you around like a dog! C'mon, Franz, who taught you to kiss like that?"
There was only one thing to do. Franz arranged his face in a superior smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"I asked, didn't I?"
"It's not as though you'd know her, anyway," Franz said airily. "And I'll never see her again, I'm sure."
Eugenie joined in. "Oh, come on, Franz! Tell us."
Sighing, Franz made her up on the spot. "Remember when I took that orbiter cruise with my uncle? There was this diplomat's daughter--"
"Where was she from?"
Franz shot Eugenie a sharp look. "I don't remember. I didn't ask. Does it matter? She was a little older and--"
Albert excitedly interrupted. "What did she look like? Did she have big--" - he darted a guilty glance at Eugenie - "I mean, was she...developed?"
Red-faced, Eugenie jabbed Albert in the arm with a sharp-knuckled fist. As he rubbed the spot, miming extreme pain and suffering, she fumed, "It's not like that matters, Albert." She began collecting the remains of their meal, packing dishes and trash into the picnic basket with a little more force than absolutely necessary.
Albert shook his head emphatically. "No, it does matter. It's an entire experience, right? Right?" He turned to Franz, seeking agreement.
"Right." Franz smiled. "You don't just like part of a person. You like the whole person." He got to his feet and stretched, brushing sand from the seat of his pants, then bent to pull the half-buried blanket from the sand. The deepening sky was pink at the horizon, and the breeze had grown chilly.
Her face still red, Eugenie complained, "I don't understand why boys are so obsessed with breasts."
Wisely not bothering to attempt an explanation, Franz took the picnic basket from her hands and crammed the folded blanket in on top of the dirty plates. He stood closer to Eugenie, blocking the wind, as she shivered and hugged herself against the chill. They both looked expectantly at Albert, still comfortably slumped on the cooling sand.
"What?" he asked, incredulous. "Are we already done playing?"
****
The broken armor curves around them like the shell of an egg and, even though the air reeks of overheated metal and machine grease, it feels safe here. Albert is so close that his tears fall on Franz' face. Albert holds him tight, as if he could keep him in the world if he just tried hard enough. But no matter what Albert does, Franz feels his life slipping from him, sparks down a drain, and he's the saddest he's ever been. He'd told himself that he would die without regrets, but it's not true. He should have said so many things...
Albert struggles to pull him closer, his hands slipping in blood. His hand tangles in Franz' hair, gently cradling his head. Albert's cheek is wet against his own and the tears that touch his lips taste like the sea. Albert kisses him at the corner of his eye, like a brother would. There's a sensation of melting in Franz' chest, something that feels so sweet, and the bliss flows indistinguishable from the blood. He hears Albert's voice from a great distance. "Say, Franz, when we're like this, it's warm, isn't it? Franz...?"
It's cold where Franz is, but he knows what Albert means. He's going to savor the feeling for the little while it lasts. He'd rather live, but he can think of worse ways to die. At least this is where he belongs: at Albert's side, where it's warm.
~~~
