The Third Option

Slow River

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 way along the river, providing people with access to the city's water supply. 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 usually be 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?"