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Japanese Word Of The Day

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 Minnesota-Tan - 'Papa Francis'

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: : Oh god what is this
Female Libra Rooster Age : 24
Number of posts : 3252
Yen : 5726
Location : Watching too much everything
Languages : English, Japanese, German, Sindarin, Some Swedish
Mood :

PostSubject: Minnesota-Tan - 'Papa Francis'   Fri Sep 04, 2009 2:04 am

More of a 'I'm-kinda-bored-and-just-read-the-whole-Minnesota-Wikipedia-page' drabble
Probably sucks, but, whatever. Wanted to write something

Takes place when Canada was still France's and he owned the lands west of the Mississippi... I think
Wisconsin not talking to Minnesota much anymore was mainly 'cause of him communicating with eastern lands who were in contact with the new British colonies. I think I imagine Minnesota as a bit younger than Wisconsin, and Wisconsin being an older brother type for awhile, but they evened out in age eventually and started being a slightly argumentative, yet still brotherly, pair. Especially when it comes to football, luls
I also think Canada ended up being friends with Minnesota, too. Partly because of France ruling them both for at least a little while, their border and how alike Minnesota and Canada really are compared to most other Canadian border states (Except the UP. Seriously. They all have the Canadian accent and everything)

Anyways, enjoy my crappy writing skills

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: : Oh god what is this
Female Libra Rooster Age : 24
Number of posts : 3252
Yen : 5726
Location : Watching too much everything
Languages : English, Japanese, German, Sindarin, Some Swedish
Mood :

PostSubject: Re: Minnesota-Tan - 'Papa Francis'   Fri Sep 04, 2009 2:05 am

Minnesota had been alone for quite some time, the Scandinavian Vikings had helped him out with a new home and some supplies, but they had long dispersed back into the wilderness. Minnesota wasn't sure where they went, but noticed a blond in some native tribes once in a while.
His new home ached of loneliness, only being relieved when Wisconsin came over to play, and was becoming a nuisance to him. He wasn’t sure why, but Wisconsin had become more talkative to his eastern neighbors now, and the loneliness echoed inside him. All he really did now was walk in the forests, admiring little things and only returning to his ‘home’ to sleep without much danger. It had been years since any European had spoken to him, nor states and countries, and he was beginning to lose the small amount of Nordic he had picked up from the Vikings. Sitting down between a few trees, he attempted the language again. “Jag… Jeg… Min na… namn är Sven…” His tongue stopped as he heard someone’s feet crunch against the new snow. Instinctively, his small feet lightly carried his body to hide against a tree and wait for them to get closer. The natives always wanted to examine him, his blue eyes and blond hair being so different than their dark tones. He didn’t exactly like that, but sometimes the attention was nice. His mind wove around if it was another Viking, which made his heart leap suddenly. The Vikings looked more like him and made him feel slightly more at home than the stares of natives did.
“Mon cheri, I can see you…” Came a calm voice. It wasn’t as rough as some of the Viking voices, but he didn’t understand the words. He had picked up Nordic tongue to an extent and was fluent in Dakota, but that was it.
To Minnesota’s fear, the man took several more steps toward his hiding spot. “You’re a shy little one…” He stopped before the tree and crouched down to Minnesota’s level. Little did Minnesota know, part of his parka was in plain sight, giving away his location. The man chuckled. “Why don’t you turn around a look at your new caretaker, non?” He said in the smoothest voice Minnesota had ever heard. He turned his pale-as-snow face to the stranger and was shocked to see a blond man with blue eyes, much like many of the Vikings had. Though, this stranger had different clothes and looked cleaner. Minnesota’s gray-blue eyes were seemingly stuck open, taking in this image to the best of his ability. Stuttering over the Nordic language he once knew but barely hung onto now, he asked. “V-Vem är du?”
“Ah! I understand now. You must be one of the old Viking states…” He smiled again and calmly replied in rugged Nordic. “Min namn är Francis. Jag ska blir dig ny papa nu.”
Minnesota had to take a moment to understand what he had said, one from lack of using the language and two from the man’s voice sounding odd, and then another moment for the shock to set in. “Ny pa-papa?”
Francis nodded, smiling sweetly. “Och vad är dig namn?” His voice sounded as if he was eating potatoes, which made him wince slightly.
“S-Sven. Sven är min namn.” Minnesota also had trouble with the language, but his voice sounded more as if he was singing slightly, and at least they were communicating.
“Ah, Sven. Nice to meet you.” Francis had lapped back into his own language, but he almost didn’t seem to notice, and stuck out his hand as if to lead Minnesota somewhere. Minnesota replied with a questioning face. “I’m going to take you to Canada, where my own Mattieu is. He’s quite a bit older than you, but I have a feeling you’ll get along quite well.” His smile and gesture enough made Minnesota’s loneliness melt and he took hold of Francis’ hand. He didn’t care if he was a stranger, he was nice and was smiling at him, plus he knew some of the language Minnesota was losing.
Francis was delighted at how easy it was to take this piece of land, and how easy it was to feel something almost like a nation in these vast forests. His people had claimed these lands a while ago, but it was never officially France’s until now. He began to walk north and after a mile or two, they were in a clearing, the night sky above them in blazing clarity, which reminded Francis of Canada even more.
“Ah! Papa Francis!” The small Scandinavian-looking child called to him and pointed up. Francis took a second to feel warmth rushing over him in success of Minnesota already calling him papa, but then took his gaze on the sky again. To his wonder, a certain star twinkled and a light aurora framed it. He gasped and watched for what seemed to be like hours, but were really only minutes. His blue eyes shifted back to his side, where Minnesota was standing next to him and watching the star with a look of familiarity.
Francis sighed contently and muttered. “You should’ve really been called L’Etoile du Nord…”

Translation notes~:

Jag… Jeg… Min na… namn är Sven… = I... I... My na... Name is Sven... (Jag is Swedish, Jeg is Norwegian / Danish. I settled on Swedish for the rest of what he says, though, since I can actually speak some of that orz)
Mon cheri = If you've read Hetalia fanfiction, you should know this is an affectionate name France gives people *Doesn't know French*
Non? = No in French, I think
V-Vem är du? = W-Who are you?
Min namn är Francis. Jag ska blir dig ny papa nu. = My name is Francis. I'm going to be your new dad now
Ny pa-papa? = New d-dad?
Och vad är dig namn? = And what's your name?
S-Sven. Sven är min namn. = S-Sven. Sven is my name
L’Etoile du Nord = The Star Of The North (That's Minnesota's motto / title thing)

Hopefully you knew most of that, since, really, Swedish is a simple language, luls

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