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Post by The First Inhabitant on Dec 15, 2012 23:31:11 GMT -6
The Inhabitants waited ever so patiently for the unconscious nations to stir. They were almost identical in shape, voice and form, so it would be impossible for the nations to distinguish them apart. That wasn't of importance though. The least thing the countries could be worrying about right now was whether they were in the presence of the First or the Second Inhabitant. Eventually, they grew impatient and with a wave of a skeletal hand, the so called immortals were plucked from the depths of unconsciousness. At this time, the Inhabitant slowly waited a few moments for the confusion to set in. The Inhabitants had in fact gone out and knocked the nations out before bringing them to this room, which they nicknamed 'The Gallows' for this very occasion. It was a plain, broadly sized space with no windows, furniture, or any source of weaponry. No, the nations were dragged in as they had been previously, meaning the only thing they had for combat was what they had on hand. Unfortunate for some, but incredibly in favour for others. Though, weapons wouldn't be the deciding factor in these games. “Awaken,” the Inhabitant boomed as the nations were sluggish to stir. It probably didn't help that they were bound by twine and had ragged gags stuffed in their mouths. The Inhabitant could detect the struggle, the possible panic that ailed them before the Death Reaper was certain that it had the nation's attention. The darkness hid the Dead Man from sight, but it's hollow, icy presence was enough to guide the country's eyes and ears in its general direction. “Congratulations...” the Inhabitant began, its voice chilled with venom, malice and the slightest touch of childish amusement. “You have been chosen to partake in a little game. Now I beseech you to listen well because I will not repeat myself nor will I answer questions,” explained the levitating skeleton. It did not wait for any signs of response, because it was more than aware of the gag that stopped the nations from human speech. “It is noteworthy that you have survived this long, but it is likely that your luck will end here. Again, you will participate in a delightful matchup of ours. The rules are simple, little nation. You must either kill, or be killed.” The Inhabitant paused simply for dramatic effect. On the other side of the room, the other nation would be receiving the same speech from the other Reaper. “There is a catch though. You will not be facing a monster...” the skeleton said softly, its face pulling into a hidden sneer. With a snap of its bony fingers, the rope that held the nations in check disappeared, as did the gag. “...You will be fighting another nation.”The words hung in the air as the Manor's Servant watched the individual move. It grinned wickedly, eager to continue pressing the grave news down the nation's throat. “There's more. Someone must die here. It is not negotiable. If you refuse to kill the other and they mirror your choice... well, look downward.”Below their feet, what seemed like solid floor was in fact a mere wire grating. Base the iron mesh were eyes. Yellow, red, white, but they all shared something in common. Hunger, thirst, desire. A low moaning sounded on cue from one of the vile creatures while another clawed anxiously at the grates that held it in check. The Inhabitant wasn't sure, but it swore it could feel a touch of anxiety from the 'immortal' that stood before it. The Inhabitant let the nation have a moment to process what it was implying before it finally continued, ignoring if it had actually said anything. “In case I was not clear, if neither of you will fight, you will be torn apart by these beasts. Don't think you can survive them either; there are more savage creatures below than you could possibly count, even in your extended lifetime. So I will emphasize one last time, kill or be killed. Good luck, Iceland/Belgium.” And with those parting words, both Inhabitants disappeared into the air as the light above flickered onto full power. Light blasted the darkness from every inch of the room, save for the cages below that grumbled and growled in response to the stimulus. Brown, stained wood-panels covered all four walls while the ceiling held what looked like a crystal chandelier that dangled a good 15 feet from the floor. Below, the creatures could be seen churned about as they stalked the shadows that the nations created. And now, let the games begin. ___________________________ (In case this was not clear, each nation received the exact same speech [there are two inhabitants]. Someone must die in this game; this is not an option. The posting order is Iceland ---> Belgium. You have 2[/u] weeks to make the starting post or we will assume you have no intentions of fighting, hence you will be killed off. This is to ensure people will not feign inactivity in order to not complete this event. After the first post, we expect you to post at least every two weeks UNLESS your posting partner will agree to wait longer. Good luck)
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Post by iceland on Dec 28, 2012 2:12:10 GMT -6
A breath.
A gasp of air, plunging rich oxygen down the throat. His eyes fluttered open, those blueviolet eyes electric with life. Iceland’s pale complexion became florid from the blood rush, his cheeks burning, head spinning. His awakening was rather sluggish but it did not take him long regain his total consciousness. The nation lad squinted as he tried to register in his surroundings. His irises, the color of his eyes, moved as he studied the place in bewilderment. There was not much to see, for it appeared that they were shrouded by some dark abyssal plume. Not a sliver of liberating strand of light was found anywhere—this place was the shadow’s terrain.
Cold—not the kind of cold he was used to. He swallowed a fistful of fear down his throat as his fingers fumbled into a fist. The ground felt so unstable for some reason. The wooden floors groaned, which quickly made him retract his hand in response. He rubbed his hand against his pants to rid of the dirt that clung on to the sweat from his palms. His body feared more than his mind could comprehend. That might have been the reason why he couldn’t stand up. And then the thing spoke.
Every word grazed on the strings of his nerves. It sent shots of chills up the bone—up the spine until his mind went numb. He had to…—kill somebody? That was ridiculous. Iceland bit his lip as he cursed at himself, blaming his recklessness as the reason why this happened. His head throbbed, consequently causing him to reel over a bit. It didn’t make any sense to him. He had been so careful, so cautious with every little detail. For this damn fate to befall on him because of some miscalculation did more than just belittle his pride.
Now he had to pay the consequence by killing to live or dying to save. His fingers crawled on the handle of his blade as he steadily stood up. The creature had ceased its speech. His soul burned from beneath the shell that was his skin. There was no way he was going to let himself die. His feet firmly planted on the ground, body stable, nerves relaxed, and mind sharp, Emil drew in a calm breath. It was going to happen soon. The lights came on, illuminating the grounds in a brilliant flash. The shadows retreated until there was not a spot of darkness in the room. And before him… was a girl. A woman. He paled a bit, frozen in the stillness of time. And then he exhaled—what tricks did fate have up her sleeves?
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Post by Deleted on Jan 8, 2013 15:28:03 GMT -6
She was engulfed in darkness. It penetrated her vision, obliterating any thoughts in her mind and kept her senses completely numbed. There were no reactions to what was going on around her, nor did she show any signs of life. Like under some sort of deep anaesthetic, Belgium was left without any feeling; locked in a deep slumber until...
“Awaken,”
The voice was powerful, with enough strength to force the woman out of her almost comatose state. The blonde woman stirred, her movements slow and lethargic. Eyelids fluttered, blinking as they adjusted to the feeling of once again being open. Lazily, Belgium lifted her head, green orbs casting a tired glance around her before they blinked once, twice, three times in confusion. And then she bolted upright to a sitting position, a gasp threatening to escape her, yet it was caught by the rag in her mouth. Eyes widening in horror as realisation hit, Emma squirmed in a pathetic attempt to free herself from her binds, all the while letting out muffled cries of fear. Panic was causing adrenalin to kick in, her heartbeat pounding in her ears as her struggles increased.
“Congratulations... You have been chosen to partake in a little game. Now I beseech you to listen well because I will not repeat myself nor will I answer questions.”
The voice of her captor stole her attention once more as the Belgian froze, gaze locked on the skeletal figure before her. A game? It was already obvious that this was the sort of game that would not end well for the looser. Belgium could just sense it, and it sent a terrible sense of foreboding deep in the pit of her stomach.
“It is noteworthy that you have survived this long, but it is likely that your luck will end here. Again, you will participate in a delightful matchup of ours. The rules are simple, little nation. You must either kill, or be killed.”
No. She wasn't going to participate in such a "game". Whoever this... thing was must have been mad to expect otherwise. Yes, Emma was certain she could hold her own, but she didn't want to give this figure any satisfaction in agreeing to go along with this. To silently prove her point, the blonde woman swallowed the lump in her throat, fighting back the urge to gag on the rag in her mouth as she narrowed her eyes and sent him the most poisonous glare she could muster. Which, unfortunately, was not much in this situation.
“There is a catch though. You will not be facing a monster...”
Suddenly, the gag and binds seemed to disintegrate into nothing, causing Belgium to let out a harsh gasp for breath. Although no longer bound like a prisoner, the worry had not dwindled, and she still felt trapped. Emma had hardly paid attention to the voice until the moment it spoke up again.
“...You will be fighting another nation.”
The world seemed to freeze.
No! This was impossible. Belgium wouldn't... couldn't kill another nation! Her face clearly paled as the information sunk in, eyes still narrowed threateningly yet much less dangerous than they might have originally appeared. This was sickening.
“There's more. Someone must die here. It is not negotiable. If you refuse to kill the other and they mirror your choice... well, look downward.”
She heard the moans and growls below before her eyes dared to glance downwards. But when her orbs dared move away from the figure standing in front of her and she saw whatever was lying below, Belgium's heart sank. So, there was no way out of this? Either one of them would die, or they both would. That much was clear to her.
“In case I was not clear, if neither of you will fight, you will be torn apart by these beasts. Don't think you can survive them either; there are more savage creatures below than you could possibly count, even in your extended lifetime. So I will emphasize one last time, kill or be killed. Good luck, Belgium.”
...Maybe she would just have to swallow her pride, play the game and do everything she could to win.
Inhaling deeply to try and steady her nerves, the blonde stood up slowly, knees trembling from stress and fear. A shaking hand grabbed the pistol crossbow she had managed to keep with her throughout this whole ordeal; the thing that had kept her safe so far. Hopefully it would be able to protect her again.
The European woman straightened up, eyes cold and dark for a moment as she turned her gaze to face whoever she would have to fight against.
Yet it seemed luck was not on her side, as she was met with another horrible surprise.
“IJsland?!” The name came out as a gasp, as though the woman could hardly believe it was him she would be facing. Emma hardly knew this nation, yet something was telling her not to harm him.
For he was Lukas' brother...
And she stared at him, her olive green orbs locking with blue-violet, unable to leave his for a moment. Because, in that moment, she could see Norway's eyes. They were so similar... almost the same...
It was painful. How could Emma kill the much loved younger brother of the man she had come to... care about?
Something was burning in her chest as she tried to comprehend it. Anger, hurt, despair. The blonde swallowed once more, her breathing becoming heavier as her body began to tremble again. It would break Lukas' heart if his brother was hurt. Belgium just couldn't do that to him; not to the man she-- Best not to think about that and regret. Regret about how she wished she could have just told him how she felt before this. Regret over the fact she was not able to see her brothers since they had entered this mansion. She was going to miss them, so much.
But it was best just get this over with now. Spare them all the pain.
“IJsland... do me a favour, will you?” Belgium forced a smile on her face as she turned her attention back to the younger nation. She hardly noticed the tears that were forming at the back her eyes as she carefully and soundlessly lowered her weapon, gently putting it to the ground at her feet. Biting down on her lip hard to prevent a sob escaping her, the woman raised her arms above her head in a signal of surrender.
“M-make this quick, ja? I don't want it t-to hurt too much...” The smile was wavering, the usual cheer in her voice cracking as she continued whilst trying to ignore the salty tears that were about to spill over her eyes. “Hurry up now, lieveling. You need to win a-and find your brother. And when you do, please...”
The knot in her stomach only tightened as she took another deep breath. The smile flickered for a moment, desolation revealing itself for just a second before her attempt at a natural grin returned.
“Tell him that he meant a lot to me... Th-that I'll miss him very much. My brother too; if you find him... make sure he knows that I'll miss him. Can you do that for me, IJsland?”
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Post by The Second Inhabitant on Jan 30, 2013 11:13:36 GMT -6
Impatience is a terrible virtue and the Manor despised it most of all, making the evil embodiment even more dangerous and unpredictable. The grating beneath the opponents’ feet began to tremble with vibrations, faint at first, but quickly evolved into a definite wave of shock that swept through the floor. The creatures writhing from under the thin barrier screeched and growled with louder intensity in response, for the beasts knew that it was a sign that their master was urging the participants to hurry up…. This was a show after all and the audience was growing bored and irritated, a not-too favorable mix for the nations….
~~This is a warning that the minimum of 2 weeks since the last post is up and a reply is due. To whoever is supposed to post next, you have one week to either post or notify an admin or you partner that an extension is needed, admins should be notified if this is the case and we will pass along the message to your partner. If this warning is not heeded, the person who did not post will lose and the remaining member will be declared the winner.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 8, 2013 21:13:51 GMT -6
Upon request, Ice you have until the 13th to post! Extension granted
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Post by iceland on Feb 13, 2013 22:36:07 GMT -6
“Island?!”
No. No block this out.
He had never really thought about taking someone else’s life. Ever. Not once had it crossed his mind as a possibility. Even though his childhood was stained with the blood of his family’s adversaries, the boy was exceeding tolerant and controlled when it came to violent impulses. Yet he claimed himself to be a man, he would vouch that the over-exaggeration of the connection between masculinity and violence is completely absurd and shallow. Yet fate had curiously placed him in this vexing situation, where he must question his morality, faiths, and beliefs. Would he do it?
“Island... do me a favour, will you?”
Emil’s heart rate was going up, his heart pounding, his ears ringing from the adrenal rush of uncertainty. Uncertain—he was uncertain on what he wanted… on who he was. Emil kept on reminding himself on who he was, who he goddamned was! He was Iceland, the nation that wouldn’t do this. Yes he had so many virtues he’d boast about. His temper had never escaped his self-imposed emotional chokehold. He had always kept his hands clean, away from trouble. He had never seen the face of war.
“M-make this quick, ja? I don't want it t-to hurt too much...”
Even the briefest thought of killing her sent cold shivers up his spine. The Icelander was losing himself, slowly by the passing seconds. His mind, his instincts, and his body kept on urging him to act, to go, to end it, to live. Emil kept on reminding himself. He kept on reminding himself. Who he was. Who he was.
The air was constricting around his throat like a serpent, ready to devour its prey. The snake had its sinful eyes on him, peering at the boy’s little soul. One bite spread dubious thoughts like back venom.
There was so much to do, so much left. He hadn’t solved the problems yet—no he hadn’t! Not even close with unlocking all of the puzzles, the algorithms, the clues, the secrets to this damned manor. Yes—yes, he had to do it. He had to do it to live and to solve all of these countless of problems and mysterious that had given him the substance and desire to move forward.
Then he resisted.
Once he realized what he was thinking, he cringed. The boy just couldn’t take this bulk of reality by the spoonful. Inwardly, he was spitting out as much as he could. This couldn’t possibly be real. Emil just told himself to not say anything—to just not say anything. A dream, he kept on thinking. This is all a dream.
His rationale seized his senses by its iron talons.
“M-make this quick, ja? I don't want it t-to hurt too much...”
That smile on her face was faltering, shattering like glass under the magnitude of the situation. All he could wonder… was how she managed to smile in the first place in the face of the ‘end’? There was nothing here worth smiling for, nothing worth feigning normalcy for; Emil felt as if he did not deserve her mercy and benevolence. Though he did not know her very well at all, he felt as if he had known her forever because of the tearful countenance she had. Those emerald green eyes were filled with so much compassion and sorrow, as if it was painted by the hands of an artist. Her voice… she was---he couldn’t.
“Hurry up now, lieveling. You need to win a-and find your brother. And when you do, please...”
The silver haired boy swallowed at the mention of his brother.
“Tell him that he meant a lot to me... Th-that I'll miss him very much. My brother too; if you find him... make sure he knows that I'll miss him. Can you do that for me, Island?”
He closed his eyes. Another riddle solved easily.
An act out of love.
“I will try.” He began wryly, looking at the ground but not budging one bit. Selfishness won again—a vice he thought he had abandoned was now worse than ever before. Her happiness… for his? His life for hers. Emil couldn’t take it. He just wanted it to be over, one way or the other.
His steps were light with no substance. Empty and soulless like the melancholy that heavy on his expression. The boy slowly unsheathed a knife--he never thought this would have a use. "I... I-I'm..."
Tears.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 7, 2013 13:50:12 GMT -6
“I will try.”Belgium gave a small nod of her head, tiny smile still parted on her face as though she was trying to give him some form of comfort or reassurance. But there was hesitation in the younger nation. Emma could sense it clearly. He wasn't moving, gaze focused on the ground beneath them. It was not exactly surprising, though. If she was in his shoes, would she be able to go through with something like this? Emil’s movements were slow as he stepped forward and drew his weapon; almost seeming doubtful. The blonde turned her attention to the blade in his hand and stared. In all honesty, she was scared. Terrified, even. If she was about to die, did that mean her country, her beloved homeland, would fall as well? The thought was buzzing in her head like that of an irritating and persistent insect that refused to be swatted away. Belgium did not want to die. No. But somebody had to. Those were the rules of this sick game. She could see no other way around it. Her face hardly let on the emotions she was feeling as the tranquil look in her eyes and soft smile trembled back into place, securing themselves there. Emma needed to try and keep Iceland as calm as possible. Otherwise it might end badly for both of them. "I... I-I'm..."Green eyes met tearful violet at the sound of his voice cracking. Emma let out a small sigh and shook her head, taking a step towards the young Nordic. “Don't cry, lieveling,” she whispered soothingly as she approached. The Belgian woman was addressing him in a tone she had used when taking care of a much younger Romano, or when speaking to her younger sibling Luxembourg. Those were times she remembered well. Those were times she missed greatly. “It’s all right.” Soon, the two were standing eye to eye. The distance between them was minuscule, and could have been closed quickly with one shift forward. Never once breaking eye contact with Iceland, Belgium brought her hand up towards his face and carefully, softly, brushed his tears away. It was with a gentle, maternal touch Emma had used many times before. Once or twice, it had even helped calm down Netherlands when he was in a blind rage... No, no. Don’t think about him now. It will just make this hurt much more than it needs to. Just get this over and done with. You can say goodbye later.“Now, lieveling, pull yourself together. You’re a strong nation, ja?” That world famous smile seemed brighter than ever for a brief second. Olive green orbs briefly glanced down at the knife in his hand, before quickly returning to Emil’s face. She paused, taking a moment to think. Then, without warning, she wrapped her arms tightly around the younger’s body in a comforting hug. They stayed there for a minute or so in complete silence, Emma listening carefully to his heartbeat and breathing to see if he was calming down. The groaning below their feet vibrated in the cold air, but Belgium refused to move for that time. When she felt Iceland had managed to calm down a little, she leaned back to look at him again, yet did not break the hug. Not just yet. “You can do this. I’ll help you as well to make it easier. Okay?” One arm released her hold from the boy, and with her free hand, she reached down to the knife. Without hesitation, Belgium wrapped her hand around Iceland’s wrist firmly, giving a small nod of her head as confirmation that she was willing to deliberately lose this game. With one arm still holding onto Iceland and the other supporting his hand, Emma closed her eyes and smiled one last time. Suddenly, she was starting to feel more content. More peaceful. This would be over soon, now. “Afscheid,” the word was muttered so softly, it was barely a whisper. Yet the message was sent out to everyone Belgium cared for. Netherlands and Luxembourg, her siblings. Spain and Romano, her former adopted family. Her friends, fellow nations, her people... And Lukas. Eyes closed. A breath was drawn in. A small tug on Emil’s wrist. België leaned forward and pressed her stomach towards the advancing blade. She ran herself through.
Finally posted this orz. Sorry for such a late reply.
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Post by The Second Inhabitant on Mar 26, 2013 10:24:14 GMT -6
Impatience is a terrible virtue and the Manor despised it most of all, making the evil embodiment even more dangerous and unpredictable. The grating beneath the opponents’ feet began to tremble with vibrations, faint at first, but quickly evolved into a definite wave of shock that swept through the floor. The creatures writhing from under the thin barrier screeched and growled with louder intensity in response, for the beasts knew that it was a sign that their master was urging the participants to hurry up…. This was a show after all and the audience was growing bored and irritated, a not-too favorable mix for the nations….
~~This is a warning that the minimum of 2 weeks since the last post is up and a reply is due. To whoever is supposed to post next, you have one week to either post or notify an admin or you partner that an extension is needed, admins should be notified if this is the case and we will pass along the message to your partner. If this warning is not heeded, the person who did not post will lose and the remaining member will be declared the winner.
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