Survivor
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Why would I want to destroy something I helped build?
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Post by Mexico on Apr 26, 2013 22:56:39 GMT -6
This was certainly a change compared to the rest of the Manor. While she was still trapped inside, she felt a different thing pulling her forward. The tall walls of the upper floors hid her with their intimidating gazes. She could barely see the moonlight, though it was shinning brightly above one place. The garden behind her, succumbed in its own lifeless produce, seemed the least bit pleasant place to explore. The graveyard, however, held her intrigued. Why would she enjoy cemeteries? They were creepy, dark, mysterious places were the dead roam and float in diversified forms. Except that wasn't entirely true. In some, absurd way if you may, cemeteries brought her peace. It didn't scare her to stand over acres of land that separated the dead from the living.
Ana María closed the small creaking gate that lead inside the graveyard. There was definitely something in the air. Something that would have intimidated any unwanted visitors, so much as to send them back to were they came from. Mexico stood for a moment, gazing at all the tombstones that laid before her. She was suddenly overwhelmed with a sick feeling that twisted inside her throat. How many- She wrapped her arms around her shoulders barely able to keep the strength necessary to let in the thought that had penetrated her mind. How many, of this tombstones, where- where the tombstones of other nations? How many of them were already buried here and left behind to become a part of this horrid place? If she had known she would hit this remorseful thoughts, then perhaps she would have chosen to walk into the garden instead.
The girl took a step forward. She felt like she had to. She was already there anyway. One step after the other. That was how she was going to do it. One step at a time. Why did she enjoy graveyards? It brought her closer to those who had left her. Perhaps the hardest thing about being a nation was that everyone she met, everyone she loved, or at some point fell in love with, eventually perished. Being immortal isn't as fun as they make it out to be. Being a country she outlived everyone. Every boss she had, every citizen. A hundred years ago there was an entire different group of people living in her country.
She celebrated the dead and she embraced the living, and every year she made wonderful and mystique altars with pictures and candles and all those sugar skulls. But back then it felt nice to do it, now it just felt wrong. Mexico walked along the aisles of the small place designated for grieving. She could catch glimpses of the name Baudeau carved on the stones and wondered what was of their descendants. Did they even have descendants? And most importantly, how did such a place turned into what it was today? Ana María believed in supernatural occurrences. She had a small traces of magic in her blood, but she wasn't sure as to what to believe. She had never been awfully superstitious but all of a sudden she wasn't so sure. What was real and what was a produce of her own imagination?
Ana María sat on a small cold stone bench that stood in the middle of it all. This felt like the epicenter and yet different kind of energy emerged from it. Energy that she couldn't quite describe. Perhaps like a long lost cry for help? There was no peace in this place and of that she was sure. Of all the cemeteries that she had visited this was by far the most disruptive. And she could feel it. A small touch of the victims' souls just trapped six feet on the ground. She sighed. There was nothing she could do to help them, so she merely pulled her legs close to the chest and looked up to the sky.
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Post by America on May 15, 2013 11:26:32 GMT -6
As Alfred stepped foot out of the manor, he felt as though a weight were lifted off of his shoulders. The weight was still there, mind, but was not quite as oppressive. He inhaled deeply, relishing in the fact that it was even easier for him to breathe.
It was small solace. He was still trapped. He was outside, but not off of manor property. Still, the closest thing he'd had to fresh air in quite a while was working wonders on him. He felt almost giddy. Almost, if not for the threat lingering at the corners of his mind. Outside, but still on manor property. That meant that even here, there could be monsters ready to make their move on an unsuspecting victim. He didn't want to be that unsuspecting victim.
Some time in his walk outdoors he found himself at a graveyard. He was overwhelmingly tempted to turn back at once. Of course a haunted manor would have a graveyard on it's premises. Outside of the manor, Alfred did not fear graveyards. He often visited the graveyards of those who were important to him in their life - Old presidents the most common. Those graveyards he did not fear. These graveyards seemed like something right out of a horror movie, the type of graveyard you'd scream at the main character not to enter if he or she valued their life.
He almost did it. He almost disregarded the graveyard and continued on his way. Alfred already decided he would stay outside as long as he possibly could. No doubt something or someone would try to get him back inside, and chances were they'd succeed in some way or another. That made Alfred even more determined to enjoy what time he had in the 'fresh' air. It wasn't the sweet, fresh air he'd be breathing when they finally left this manor behind them forever (when, not if - he would keep telling himself that), but it was a small taste of freedom and he'd take it.
No, what stopped him was a familiar sight within the graveyard. Alfred would not turn down the opportunity to speak with any of his fellow nations, knowing how exceedingly rare it was to find a chance to do so within the manor. Coming across another was not altogether rare, but being able to stick with a nation that one came across in their so-called adventures was. If he did not approach Mexico now, who knew when his next chance would be? If ever?
Alfred approached the smaller nation from behind as she sat perched on a bench in the center of the graveyard. Coming from behind was probably not the best move, but Alfred failed to think such a thing through.
"Is this seat taken?" He inquired with a playful grin, taking a seat on the bench beside her before she had a chance to respond.
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Survivor
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Why would I want to destroy something I helped build?
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Post by Mexico on May 16, 2013 17:26:22 GMT -6
Deep breath in, and deep breath out. It was all dead and over. This brittle air was still suffocating but at least she could breathe. She could breathe and talk and play and think and do and feel. She was still alive. Alive and struggling between breaths. Is this over or is it barely beginning? Oh joy the American south, oh joy the land that belonged to an enemy. Enemy or friend? Family or foe? Lover and lust. Could all of them mix in the same pot?
Why was she sitting here? Why was she doing here really? In all honesty, why a cemetery? In touch with those who left. Mexico held her arms out. Under the moonlight she could see past the dirty coat of skin. Her skin grew into an unusual, unfamiliar shade of pale. It was a mirror. Ana María looked up at the sky, wondered how the moonlight would look on the faded shades of color that were still prominent in her face. She wanted to have her mask. She wanted to have the paint over her every feature. Masks may come off, but they can always be put back on.
When she lowered her glance and stared at her arms, she could assess for the first time the damage. Oh so many cuts and bruises. So many scars that told stories. Most of them were past battles. Battles that she mostly lost, inside this Manor. All she wanted was one victory. Just one. Escaping, surviving, killing wasn't a victory. It was just another battle she lost. Her being alive had nothing to do with her being well. Only would she know what good felt like when she could walk out of this place, out a free human being.
A slave.
Just a slave.
Her teeth gritted with this thoughts. A slave no more. A slave never again. Or a colony, or a property. Leave beholden to nothing and nobody. Her pale small fingers traced the injuries in her arms. None of them hurt as much as the one that was in her left palm. Now that one marked a turning point from sane to insane, from healed to wounded, from wise to reckless. It was one crooked line that crossed diagonally through her palm. It was crooked because when she had done it, her right hand trembled. She hadn't noticed at the time. She had hardly felt anything more than what she had desired. And now it was starting to ache.
Ana María barely touched it. It was still open, still fresh but no blood came out. She could get it infected, she thought. But it didn't matter. Her arms fell to rest on her thighs with one breath that she exhaled.
"Is this seat taken?"
Mexico raised her face to glance at the voice that she would recognize anywhere. Her own chocolate brown eyes locked with his sky blue. She remembered all of her desire. How many times in the past had Ana María wanted to grab America by the collar and throw him at the wall. Spit in his face with words of vicious threats. Throw fists and fight until all the anger inside her cease to consume just her. It was there for a moment, the desire. But then it faded and Mexico merely lowered her head again. It was not worth it. It was not fair either. If America had no fault in this, and she had to admit it. What happened right now was something entirely different than past events and wars and need for revenge.
She had grown up. Not everything could be solved with violence.
"What are you doing here, United States?"[/color] Yes, she called him by the name by which everyone should. America was the continent. The entire body of land that was home to 35 countries was the Americas. It annoyed Mexico that Alfred referred himself at such. But now she was just saying it out of habit. There was hardly any room left in her emotions to care about such trivialities.
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Post by America on May 17, 2013 11:24:06 GMT -6
It wasn't so much that Alfred simply wanted to avoid going back inside - Rather, he dreaded going back inside. Just the thought of being trapped between those four walls made his heart race. He was still trapped even out here, and he knew it, but he felt less trapped.
He always felt his mood improve when he was in the presence of another nation, regardless of who the nation was. Certain nations raised his mood even higher, but just having someone around with the same goal in mind (in this case, getting the hell out of dodge) served as a booster, as well as a reminder to Alfred that he needed to keep looking for a way out. Not just for himself, but for all of the nations trapped within. Especially for his friends, but for his enemies too. No one deserved this manor. Not even Russia.
He stood his ground as Mexico glared at him, refusing to drop his own gaze despite the feelings that stirred within. He knew he'd screwed up. He knew why so many were upset with him, and to some extent he could not blame them. He was angry with himself for landing everyone in this situation on a whim. That didn't mean that he wasn't getting sick and tired of having to face the brunt of everyone's frustration. Did they think he wanted this to happen? Did they think they were invulnerable, that they were above making mistakes?
"What are you doing here, United States?"
Alfred was used to being addressed as such by Ana Maria, and therefore barely batted an eyelid. Instead, a small grin crept across his face. "Well, you looked like you could use some company so I decided I'd swoop in and save the day!" He knew full well that he was being ridiculous given the circumstances, but someone needed to be. Someone needed to keep up hope, to offer an occasional distraction in the face of an everlasting cascade of misfortunes. Even if he couldn't find a way out, he was still determined to be a hero in his own unconventional way. How long he'd be able to keep it up remained to be seen.
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Survivor
Offline.
Why would I want to destroy something I helped build?
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Post by Mexico on May 23, 2013 15:22:17 GMT -6
Oh funny thing loneliness. It was their birth given right. The unspoken rule of never getting acquainted with a human. Their purpose, their existence, is merely temporary. Their own, however, reigns to what seems like an eternity. Nations claim to be eternal, with blood pouring from their bodies and hearts that rhyme with the hearts of their people. And they embrace to live their lives apart from their citizens. Never get acquainted with a human. Don't fall in love with a human. Don't become friends with a human. They perish, over and over again.
And they said that nations are immortal.
But they lied.
They reassured that those that were just like us, in flesh and blood, heart and soul, would remain our companions and forever exist with us. They reassured that they would belong in the same complexity in which their own existence laid. They reassured that they could love each other in the same manner, and apart from the love of a human.
Yet, they hid the truth that there was a place in that existence, buried in the corners of our mind, in which nations mixed with the salvage of the common men. They hid the truth, that there was a place in which nations were not, in fact, eternal. That heart wrenching experience was the final testimony that brought Ana María back into the steps of her reality. The reality that their blood could fall and their own skin could crumble and die. And while doing so, all this human-like emotions would come rushing in and occupy the better sense and better judgement of her being.
It was utterly useless to pretend that her feelings were different. If she knew no happiness, then she would know no sadness. And if she didn't know what love meant, then she wouldn't know what pain felt like. So perhaps, the last drop of their existence would've been less painful, had Ana María approached the situation with a stoic mind. But that had not been the case.
"Well, you looked like you could use some company so I decided I'd swoop in and save the day!"
Oh yes, that grin that wondered across his face seemed like such a peculiar sight in this world. It was like a mind game, or a mirage. As soon as she would lean in to touch it, it would disappear. Mexico looked at Alfred with no resentment. Resentment had made its way into her being and had now parted to control somebody else. There was no room in her stable mind for something as that. At least, not anymore.
She opened her mouth to speak, but it closed in reflex. She took his face between her hands, and with her gentle fingers she traced the corners of his mouth. His grin was, in fact, real, and it brought a calming sensation that was inexplicable to the girl. "Company is always deeply appreciated."[/color] In this life of eternity, with all the burdens that it brought, and the empires that formed and fell. With all of their differences, the nations of the world could agree on one thing. None of them really liked being alone.
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Post by America on Jul 26, 2013 20:29:18 GMT -6
Alfred did not anticipate Ana Maria's next move. He could not deny that it offered an odd sort of comfort. Mexico's attempts to assure herself that Alfred was really there with her helping to assure Alfred that he was not seeing things. The hands touching his face were real. The corners of his mouth twitched even more at this.
The younger nation chuckled and leaned against the back of the bench. It was nice out here, a welcome distraction from the manor. He knew the threat was not gone. They were still on manor grounds, and for all they knew something could be lurking in wait for them. Somehow, the grounds were less...oppressive than the manor.
"It's nice out here, isn't it?" As nice as it could be, given their circumstances. Alfred wasn't sure what to do other than make conversation. Ana Maria clearly welcomed his company (something that was not always the case, given the odd relationship the duo shared over the years). Alfred was not about to turn this opportunity down. "Have you met up with anyone since we were all separated?" He continued with the usual question, primarily to hear a list of names and their conditions. Whether they were alive or not when they were last seen by the person he was talking to, for example.
"I've run into Lithuania, Vietnam, and Canada." It was only fair that he return the favor while he was at it. "You know, it's too bad the door out here wasn't the door that led out of this place. That would be too easy, though. Besides, I'm not about to leave unless I take y'all with me." While there were some nations he felt an urge to leave to the manor's mercy (or lack thereof) for eternity, he recognized how cruel a fate that would be.
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Survivor
Offline.
Why would I want to destroy something I helped build?
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Post by Mexico on Aug 5, 2013 0:21:54 GMT -6
So there they were, the two of them sitting side by side, centuries of history between them. It was no mystery that the two of them shared a rather peculiar bond. Being neighbors they got to know each other in ways that were perhaps not the best. Mexico, though it was a hesitant approach to admit it, deeply depended on the blonde for most of her exports and all around economic uprise and it was in this dependency that he annoyed her. It was his certain habits and quirks, comments and plain narcissism, that made her want to rip his head off. And of course, as history liked to tell, he always seemed to be the person who's silhouette overshadowed the rest of the Americas.
It hadn't always been like that though, because after all the United States had been the first country to recognize her as a sovereign state, and then he had intended to protect all the newly founded countries from further European interference. For years he seemed like their hero, but his Monroe Doctrine in the end only satisfied his own interests, and with the war of 1846 and Texas of course, everything seemed to go through a downhill spiral between the two.
But now it seemed that there was nothing better in this place than to be sitting next to him. She was in all honesty relieved. Relieved to see him alive and well. "Nice suddenly changed in definition then," She replied to his remark. "But I do understand the intent that this place is rather better than the rest. So si, it is nice here."[/color] Mexico was really careful not to let any sarcastic cynicism escape her lips. She could barely understand how difficult this must be for Alfred. While it was a living nightmare for the rest of the nations, this was America's land, it was his home, and to have something like this exist in your own home well that must be deeply painful. She could only begin to understand how much of that pain he was really letting through.
"I have actually, quite a few."[/color] Ana María said in quite a secure tone, perhaps for the first time since the incident. "Turkey, Prussia, Kosovo and Australia, Canada, Belgium, Portugal, among others. They were all well. It was reassuring. I have, however, been trying to find España too. I just want to make sure he's all right."[/color] If she had been sitting with anyone else she would've probably not have added this last remark to her speech, but America probably understood. While her relationship with Spain was even more delicate than the one with him, he was still the person who raised her, and in all honesty we can never hate those who raised us. It was purely that bond, the one that the motherland had with its colonies that was acting up on her. She just needed to make sure he was okay, that's all.
"You don't have to do that, Alfred"[/color] She said, pronouncing his human name for perhaps the first time in decades. "Of course I cannot speak for the rest but I want you to know, if you come across an exit and you are able to escape, take it. Run. I know that you want to save us and it is an honorable act that, but I don't want to stay here because me or the rest. I won't resent you if you free yourself. After all, maybe there is a way to get us out from the outside."[/color] She offered him a smile, almost the way a sibling would and she moved strands of hair from his face. It was a moment they were having, a rare one at that from the two, and Mexico really just wanted to offer him security, let him know that it was okay. She wasn't sure why, he just seemed like he needed it.
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Post by America on Aug 5, 2013 13:36:09 GMT -6
Coming soon
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