Survivor
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Why would I want to destroy something I helped build?
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Post by Mexico on Jul 27, 2012 23:23:14 GMT -6
Admitting. Admitting what? Fear, betrayal, loss, defeat. It seemed simple enough and at the same time absolutely horrifying. Utterly complicated, unrealistic, exhausting. Mexico took long heavy breaths to keep herself from literally hitting the floor. She had lost track of time, track of everyone, track of her surroundings. She felt like a soul roaming around a place that only existed in the deepest and most scary places of her mind. A prison within her. She would bang against the wall, cry fierce fully, demanding a way out, but nothing could be heard past the echo of her breaths. Reliving a nightmare she did not know she had.
The girl was starting to lose herself. She could not allow it. Mexico wondered through yet another unexplored place of the manor. She refused to be followed. For the first time in her life she actually preferred loneliness. Dependency on others was a luxury she could not come to terms with. It would make her vulnerable. She had known for a while, you know? She knew there was only one way this would end. She was not afraid to say it out loud, if she was the only one to hear. Death. Old friend. How come we meet here? How many times have you walked around finishing the task the Manor itself started? She was not afraid of dying as she was of losing someone. That's why she went her own way. She would not stand to see someone die before her eyes. She couldn't take it.
And yet she, herself, was dying one small piece at a time.
The girl with the chocolate brown eyes had managed to find herself in a room that no one else had entered. Within the basement, a place full of history of the people that didn't make it. The chills that went through her spine were the not the cause of watching her surroundings. No, she could deal with that. Death only becomes personal when it's someone you know. This was only fact. A number. Worthless.
Mexico took a deep breath, held a candle as steady as her hand would allow and ventured inside the room. Would've been something to yearn for, seeing all that weaponry on the floor, had it not been someone else's. As she walked past the armors her mind played games with her. Maybe it was her lack of sleep. Maybe it was the sweat on her face or the fact that she could not recall her last decent meal. But her mind made her see the vivid picture of the other nations being trapped in this room. The dead can't testify. She tried to shake the feeling but she was unsuccessful. Mexico concentrated on her steps. One step at a time. One in front of the other. Left, right, left, right. A rhythm.
She could almost hear their voices. Hear the piercing screams as they were tortured into madness. She swore she could sense them calling her name. Begging her to help them. Watching her go through the same inevitable fate. It shouldn't end this way. No one should die this way.
Justice. Sounds silly, doesn't it? It's wasn't fair. True. But what's fair anyway? Fair is having a decent meal, a place to sleep, love, care, water. Never yearning to survive. A bitter chuckle would've been in order. A question. Why did they get to live and they get to die? It wasn't fair but life never is. So she delt with it. Slowly she ventured inside. What was she doing there? She did not know. Nor was she sure if she possessed the courage to face whatever was inside that room. Could be her worse nightmare. Could be a creature. Could be Death herself. She didn't know.
Then she heard a sound and she stop cold on her feet. A piercing breeze swallowed her body and managed to vanish the warm match that represented her last drops of hope. She was alone in the darkness. She was. No, she refused to feel. But she had to. "¿Quién esta ahí?" Silly question. Silly girl.
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Sadiq Adnan
Administrator
Bisexual.
30.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
We can only survive here, never truely live
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Post by Turkey on Jul 31, 2012 19:43:18 GMT -6
Black, it was black as pitch. Sadiq blinked and there was no change, eyes open or closed, it was all the same. With a sigh, he ran his hand over his face and pulled it away when he ran a finger through a sticky liquid. With a look of confusion that no one else could possibly see, he brought his hand around and sniffed. A metallic, coppery smell infiltrated his nose and he sighed. It figured he had a head injury since he couldn’t remember what had happened. He tried to stand up so he could look around, nearly feel over in the process. Leaning against the wall, Sadiq brought his hand to his mouth and covered it, squeezing his eyes shut in the process. He had gotten up to quickly and almost paid for it. Standing there for a few minutes taking deep breaths through his nose, the sick feeling eventually faded and he was able to stand up again.
Leaving one hand against the wall, he started walking, trying to figure out where he was. Sadiq had no idea where he was, but based on the little he did remember the thought he might be somewhere in the basement. His own footsteps sounded loud in his own ears and he cringed. It wasn’t smart to make noise in a house like this, one that would take every opportunity it had to make your worse fears come true, one that was actively trying to kill you and everyone else stuck within its walls.
After a few steps his other senses started becoming stronger with his lack of sight. The musty, dank air smelled old, as if there hadn’t been any fresh air to down there in decades, if not centuries. The next sense he noticed was his hearing. He could hear light scratching sounds coming from the floor as what he assumed were bugs scuttled around, running from the man in their midsts. The texture of the walls smooth and cool to the touch as he fingers ran over it. Coming to a turn, he walked around it carefully still keeping his eyes open just in case there would somehow be a light to see by. He usually hated being alone, but in this pitch black it was much easier, no need to worry about someone else’s safety along with his own. He was going to have enough trouble protecting himself as it was.
Soon after turning the corner, Sadiq saw a small light ahead of him and it was getting further away. Carefully he tried to pick up his pace without making more noise than he already was, he chased after the light. He wasn’t sure where it was going or if he was walking into a trap, but he didn’t care, this whole place was one big trap designed to catch everyone when they least expected it.
Coming closer to the light, he found himself walking through a door and into another room he couldn’t see around it. Hearing a feminine voice, Sadiq stopped in his tracks and considered answering before he shrugged and spoke anyway. “Merhaba, who’s there?”
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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 Aug 1, 2012 6:37:42 GMT -6
It was cold down here. Too cold in fact that most people didn't notice. But she did. The atmosphere was unwelcome, dead, and unsettling. There was few air that managed to travel throughout the room. And it burned against her skin. Mexico, with her limited vision, turned around clockwise very slowly, making sure there was no one around her that could potentially harm her. She scoffed at her own silly thought. Harm her. This house was design to prove them in the most awful way. She was merely a chess piece, a part of a bigger game and currently they were losing. But she still had to make sure.
Ana María had been in places she thought were more dangerous than this. She had seen bloodshed, pain, torture, most of which she could call her own. But none of that seemed to prepare her for this. Because this was real. Now she knew what it was like to be mortal. As a nation you fight for your survival, but as a whole. You don't worry about dying because the possibility is more unlikely than that of a human. Now she was like everyone else. If she cut she bleed and sometimes she wouldn't heal.
The girl breathed slowly. She was sure that her breath was frozen but the light of her now dim candle was not enough to see through. She was scared, so when she heard another voice, completely different to her own she jumped startled. The sound of another person was reassuring but at the same time utterly terrifying for she did not distinguish between reality and dreams in this place. Mexico turned around slowly, prepared for what she might see but without a thought in mind.
She was relieved beyond words when she discovered that voice belong to Turkey. He was still far from her but her vision was kind enough to allow her some hope. "Turkey!" She exclaimed, now in english. "Can you see me?"
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Sadiq Adnan
Administrator
Bisexual.
30.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
We can only survive here, never truely live
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Post by Turkey on Aug 8, 2012 11:52:09 GMT -6
He walked further into the room, trying to find where the female voice was coming from, but so far he wasn’t having any luck. A cold chill ran up his spine and spread to his limbs. The hairs on the back of his neck he could feel standing on end. The cold was like the icy breath of death upon his neck, just waiting for him to make one mistake so it could claim him. Though he felt like this, he realized it wasn’t terribly cold like it would be on a snowing winter night, but it wasn’t comfortable to him either. He hated the cold, loathed it with a passion. Being from a relatively warm to hot nation like he was, he much preferred the heat, it made him feel alive. It made his joints stiffer and didn’t help is temper any, though he would try to control that at least.
Stepping on something that cracked, Sadiq flinched as the overly loud sound filled his ears and seemed to echo throughout the room. He really didn’t want to know what he stepped on, didn’t want to know if it was the bones of some other poor fool who had gotten stuck in this malevolent manor like they did. He knew that if he had a light with him that he would have looked, it was the nature of the beast to look when able, to assess the surroundings to stay alive.
Hearing her call out to him, he shrugged to himself and shook his head, knowing that she more than likely wouldn’t be able to see him. “Not yet, but I should be able to the closer I get to you.” He picked up his speed a little in order to get closer a bit faster. Once together it would be best to stay together to try and find a way out of the basement. The closer he got the more light the little candle seemed to shed, he just hoped it was enough to keep the creatures that he was sure inhabited the basement away from them. "Which Nation are you? I can't recognize your voice."
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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 Aug 8, 2012 19:35:33 GMT -6
The sound of someone's voice was so unexpected it send goosebumps all over her body. It was a mixed feeling between discomfort and a comfort. A part of her wanted to run towards the man and hug him tightly, just to feel him, make sure he was there... make sure she was there too. She wanted to feel touched, used, or more specific she wanted to feel useful. She could not understand this feeling. She merely wanted to break the bonds that bind her to this place, this mansion. Not feel as a part of it anymore. The girl with the chocolate brown eyes took a step forward, scared beyond relief. She was constantly reminding herself to be strong. Goddamn calm and composed.
It was beyond cold down here. Her bare shoulders could barely stand it. She wished she was back home and could go to the beach, to feel the sand and the warm water touch her fingers. She no longer understood the concept of liberty and that thought alone terrorize her. Suddenly it was the 1800s again and she had to fight for her independence, demand her freedom. She wanted to take another step forward but thought better of it. The cold was making her fingers numb. She feared she could not run as fast as she used to if the situation demanded it. It was weakening.
But she did not think of that any further. Mexico had to keep her hopes up, because hope was really the only thing that kept her going. Ultimately the only thing that would keep anyone going.
"Which Nation are you? I can't recognize your voice."
The question hit her harder than it should have. Every second in the manor, every moment she was reminded of her own mortality, to such point that she had thought herself to be merely human. She rarely addressed herself anymore by her country name. Mexico. No, Ana María Campos Hernández. Human. She shook, but she did not know why. She was becoming extremely emotional. This place was testing her endurance, it was cracking her mentality and stability. Turkey's question seemed like a lifesaver and for that reminder she was grateful, much more than he'll ever know.
"I'm Mexico." Her voice had come out much louder than she had expected. It radiated with confidence and a clear sense of self-respect. That's right. She was Mexico. Estados Únidos Mexicanos. She shouldn't forget that. No one should. And for that name alone she would fight. Till the end.
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Sadiq Adnan
Administrator
Bisexual.
30.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
We can only survive here, never truely live
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Post by Turkey on Aug 17, 2012 23:42:00 GMT -6
Sadiq’s green eyes tried to see Mexico, but all he could see what the light flicker of flame from the candle, watch it dancing to the tune of its own beat. It would sway left and right, and then seem to bob and then move left again. Shaking his head to stop following the path of the flame, he tried focusing again on the woman who was supposed to be on the other side of the candle… if it wasn’t a spirit or monster of the house out to trick him into letting his guard down.
He knew he had to be careful with this woman, he did not want die in basement where no one would ever find him, where he would rot until nothing but his skeleton remained. There would be no one to spread news of his death, no one to give him the funerary rights, no one to prepare his body or preform the other rituals. Without these, his soul would never reach heavens…if nations had souls. He never had to worry much about it before, except for once not that long ago. As he was human now, he could die, and if he died, his own country beliefs ensured that he would haunt the house and friends. With a shake of his head, he tried to shake the dark thoughts out, he couldn’t dwell on that, it would only distract him from trying to stay alive. If it happened, it happened, and he’d deal with it.
Hearing her name, Sadiq remembered her. He had never spent much time around her so he didn’t know her well, but he knew of all the hard wars she had fought against Spain. Hopefully with her help they could find their way out of this place and maybe find more people.
“Mexico, where are we? How did you get down here?” He didn’t know why he asked that, he couldn’t remember how he got to the basement either… that had to be where they were, nowhere else could be this cold and damp and not be the basement.
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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 Aug 19, 2012 21:59:56 GMT -6
Mexico didn't say anything. The strings of her vocal chords were broken. No longer did one had a relationship with the other. They worked on different terms. Profound sadness invaded her body. She did not understand why all of a sudden she was feeling undeniably hopeless. It seemed like all the happiness inside her suddenly ceased to exist. Washed away by the definition of her reality. Such thoughts were consuming. So much so that at times she forgot her purpose. Forgot what she had started fighting for. When giving up seemed so easy what was left to make her keep going? What was left indeed. That question submerged into her mind so many times and yet she had no concrete answer. That was almost as disturbing as the feeling of loneliness that came afterwards.
How did she end up there? She did not know. Or maybe she did and her mind was wise enough to deprive her of such information. The only logical explanation, scratch that, the only explanation that came to her head was that she had been wondering and had somehow ended up there. But she refused to believe that was the ultimate reason. She wanted something better, something she could stand on, argue with, something solid. This place was so cold and bittersweet. With every step she had taken she had felt uncertainty. There was something beneath her, far more cruel than the manor. Something that was haunting each and every one of them, but she did not know what.
If Mexico could see clearly, look for light in such a dark place, then maybe she could figure it all out. Make out an answer for Turkey. She raised her candle, inspecting her surroundings. The light of the candle did not bring much help, so she had to rely on her pure sense of touch. She bend down, her knees touched the coldness of the floor and her hands travelled around looking for something. Anything really would do. While the hand that held the candle was raised upwards so Turkey could still see it, the other tried to make out what it came across.
Mexico frowned for a moment, as her fingers traced something that wasn't exactly what she expected. It was metal. It was wood. She cringed as felt a sudden pain run through her fingers. It was sharp. Ana María tasted the blood that poured through the wound. That's when she realized were she was, or at least she had a good idea. She stood up and turned towards Turkey. "There's all sorts of weapons here. Watch your step, you may be standing on some."
You would think such realization would bring some joy to the latina, but it was just the opposite. It brought a new sense of fear. Fear because she knew these weapons, whatever they might be, had once belonged to someone, and the fact that they were just laying around meant that their previous owner had not come out of there alive. And if there were so many of them, it also meant there was something down here with them. Mexico took a deep breath. Eager for Turkey to join her. They had to get out of there, whatever the cost, and as quickly as possible.
“Mexico, where are we? How did you get down here?” He didn’t know why he asked that, he couldn’t remember how he got to the basement either… that had to be where they were, nowhere else could be this cold and damp and not be the basement.
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Sadiq Adnan
Administrator
Bisexual.
30.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
We can only survive here, never truely live
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Post by Turkey on Aug 27, 2012 20:50:48 GMT -6
Seeing the candle start to dip in height, Sadiq had to wonder what Mexico was doing. Why would she be bending or sitting down in this place? There was absolutely no reason for her to do that. He couldn’t figure out what she was doing…and she still hadn’t answered his question. He kept waking, knowing he should have been close to her by now. His eyes tried to make out shapes in the low candle light, but all he saw was a few shadows and darkness. Though he thought he might have caught site of her brown hair, he couldn’t be sure, browns and blacks blended in the absence of light to look similar if not identical.
Jumping a bit at hearing her voice, he realized he was closer than he thought to her. Stopping in his tracks, he thought he was about arm length from here. Should he reach out and try to touch her? Shaking his head, he wondered when did he get that close to her. He didn’t remember walking the rest of the distance fully between them and wondered what was going on. Her words penetrated his thoughts and he looked down. Blackness was still everywhere, though a few pinpricks of light could be seen now that he was looking for them; mere reflections of the candle light off of the steel of the weapons under his feet. What kind of weapons were there? He didn’t really care much as he had his trusty steel that had protected him for years. He kept it sharp and well-oiled, no chance of rusting. He would never let it rust, would always keep it in the proper shape and carry it until it fell apart in his hands. It was a faithful friend who would not be forsaken.
“Do you have any plans to get out of here? Or were you just waiting for someone to come along?
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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 28, 2012 12:10:50 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; vertical-align: top;][STYLE=width: 266px; padding: 17px 17px; text-align: justify; font: 11px tahoma; background: #190A11; border-radius: 50px 0px 0px 50px; color: #77A863; float: left; -moz-border-radius: 50px 0px 0px 50px;]
Mexico gently swiped the blood pouring from her hand with the ends of her dress. It was already torn and dragged so she really didn't care about it that much at this point. It would be nice to be able to wash it, or at least change into something more appropriate for running around and fighting. She liked to think it was the clothes that at times made her feel useless. It was a long time ago, but she still remembered how there was a time when the almighty Spain only allowed her to wear dresses. She would fix her hair, apply a little makeup, wear the appropriate attire and then smile brightly for everyone to see. The face of the Viceroyalty of the New Spain.
Come to think about it, such an ambitious name for a simple colony.
As her eyes traced the metal she wondered if it would be okay to grab one or two extra weapons and carry them around. After all, no one was using them, nor would their previous owners need them. She gulped. That thought came out too fast and too insensitive. Maybe this was the place were the weapons of its dead victims ended. The remains. It worked like a graveyard, but with an impact far superior to a mere tombstone. When you see the words carved into a stone it makes you sad, sure. But when you find something that used to belong to the one that passed away, especially something designed to help them in their survival, well, it leaves you with far more than just a simple knot in your throat.
She grabbed what she thought was a small knife. Her fingers traced the blade carefully, looking to see if it was sharp enough to cause pain with barely a simple scratch. Ana María released her mind of the thoughts she had encountered before. It was replaced by a cynical, almost completely cold thought of "Whatever. They're dead, I'm not. Might as well." Only like that would she be able to truly keep a steady sane mind. If she kept thinking about the others and the ones that were not here anymore it would drive her crazy. And she already had enough on her plate. She placed the knife under her dress, tying it around her leg with a piece of cloth, please let it be cloth. She stood up, fixing her dress and turned to look at Turkey, who was suddenly standing in front of her. The closeness felt unreal. Ana María had forgotten what it was like to feel the presence of someone who was not a monster. Someone who was real in flesh and blood. She wanted to hug him, touch him, feel him, but she refrained from doing so. Let's narrow down the crazy.
"Uh," She pause for a moment, unsure as to how to answer his question. Honestly, Mexico couldn't tell just exactly how she had ended up there. She had been wondering around the house, desperate to find a place to hide or even a door that let to the outside world. So much time inside the Manor had made her feel uneasy, claustrophobic, like the walls were closing in on her and there wasn't any space to move, to breathe. One door had let to the other, one room had let to the other. Halls after halls ran endlessly. For a moment it had felt like a movie. When the character finds himself in a hallways with a door at the other end. And he rans and rans but the hallways only grows longer, seeming endlessly. Running and running until it realizes the thought of escaping is merely an illusion.
"Honestly, I don't know." She said almost apologetically. Did she have a plan? No. Well, not precisely a plan. When she had opened the last door that had lead here she figured the only place to move was forward, for everything else was already explored. She had started to walk, first to find out what was this place that brought such uncertainty and a feeling of apprehension to her. Or even worse, why there was such a connection between her and this place. If she could find out what it was down there then maybe she would be one step closer to finding the weak spot of the Manor. Strategy. Know your enemy as well as it knows you. Perhaps even better. "Pero, it's such a relief you're here. Por lo menos, I'm not alone." |
[/color] [/style][STYLE=font: 35px impact; letter-spacing: -1px; margin-top: -415px; line-height: 35px; -o-transform: rotate(90deg); -webkit-transform: rotate(90deg); -moz-transform: rotate(90deg); margin-left: -10px; float: right; color: #599C3E;][STYLE=letter-spacing: 2px;]M E X I C O [/style][/style] [STYLE=float: right; background: #599C3E; width: 100px; padding: 5px; margin-top: -310px; margin-right: 5px; text-transform: uppercase; font: 10px orator std; text-align: justify; line-height: 10px; letter-spacing: -1px; color: #000;]So they marched me down to the center of town with their pitchforks high in the air. I was chained and bound with a blindfold around, so the judge wouldn't catch my stare. [/style][/td][/tr][/table][STYLE=font-family: ms gothic; font-size: 12px; text-transform: uppercase;]MADE BY jumpstart! of btn, ote and ls[/style][/center]
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Sadiq Adnan
Administrator
Bisexual.
30.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
We can only survive here, never truely live
|
Post by Turkey on Sept 1, 2012 23:24:15 GMT -6
Standing there next to the female Nation, he could hear every breath she too, he could hear every breath they took too as if it was happening right next to his ears. Why were the sounds so loud? Then a thought occurred to him, they were so loud because there were no other sounds coming from the basement. The two of them breathing was the only thing to be heard in this could, dark, desolate place. He took a slight step to his left and realized that he could hear his steps loud and clear also...it didn’t feel right to him.
He wasn’t used to all this quiet, he wasn’t used to silence at all. There was always something with sound going on in his nation; always something to fill the silence, to keep him from thinking about things he didn’t want to think about, hated to think about. Thoughts tried to trickle into his head of his past, of the destruction and hardship and heartache he had caused to multiple nations. His old, self-absorbed laughter rang through his head as pictures of him in war time ran like a slide show before his eyes. He could see all the glory and power he possessed, could feel the adrenaline coursing through his vains and he turned from it. He learned his lesson a long time ago and wouldn’t head down that way again; not for power and not for control. He only wanted to control his own life and help other Nations try to settle their problems.
Shaking his head to clear of it the thoughts, Sadiq heard Mexico admit that she didn’t know how she got down there or that she didn’t have a plan. He didn’t have one either and actually could barely remember walking down the steps. He didn’t remember hurting his head or how he ended up sitting in the dark a ways away from the stairs. “Evet, not alone, but it’s still just the two of us. We need to find a way out of here, the only light we have is from the candle, and we don’t know how much longer that will last.”
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Survivor
Offline.
Why would I want to destroy something I helped build?
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Post by Mexico on Sept 4, 2012 18:41:46 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; vertical-align: top;][STYLE=width: 266px; padding: 17px 17px; text-align: justify; font: 11px tahoma; background: #190A11; border-radius: 50px 0px 0px 50px; color: #77A863; float: left; -moz-border-radius: 50px 0px 0px 50px;]
She had forgotten the feeling of tears streaming down her face when nothing seemed to end. And that voice ringing inside her head with the sounds of a broken amend. She remember those cries of the people trapped inside. But all that was left and broken some place did not give her the courage to keep her stride. The sun hadn't come out in quite some time and it was leaving her in a endless cold. But she fought the grief and piercing sounds. If only to woke up in day.
Turkey's words were more like silent whispers in a body that was trying to forget. She took a deep breath as her eyes laid past him into the darkest part of hell. It seemed to her that the only way out of there would be to keep going. Because the door was locked. It had been when she had tried to open it. Mexico shook her head slowly from side to side. She knew the candle was already lost and it only worked because of their redeemed faith. Her fingers traced the wax that had already fell into the frozen tears. Without a worry about getting burned. That small flame was the only source of light and heat that she possessed. It was the only thing that kept her bare shoulders warm and her feet from tripping with the swords.
And she could not protect it.
Ana María had never felt so helpless. So useless. She held the candle in front of her face, so the light shinned over her expression. She gasped. She had never felt more human. She was not depressed. It wasn't an overflowing sense of negative thoughts that haunted the sane parts of her mind She did not have those feelings of emptiness that would lead her to want the quick and painless escape from reality. Mexico was sad. Sad beyond belief. Like inside that place all the happiness of the world had suddenly stopped being. No longer did the joy in riding a bike, in laying on the beach or watching the clouds, a first kiss, a glorious battle, holding hands and just inventing something marvelous. Nothing that could put a smile on her face mattered. Because for a moment it seemed as though it had never existed.
She was right in feeling worried, for she feared she would never posses that vast of optimism that defined her for decades. The foundation of who she was was slowly drifting away. Looking into a broken mirror to the pieces that once made her. Whispering slowly and clearly, "I'll never let you go." In a momentary lapse of weakness her knees could no longer hold the weight of her body and she fell to embrace the man that was standing next to her. With tears in her eyes she began to cry. Cry. Like she had never once let herself do. Steel glass windows aiming to flee.
[/style][STYLE=font: 35px impact; letter-spacing: -1px; margin-top: -415px; line-height: 35px; -o-transform: rotate(90deg); -webkit-transform: rotate(90deg); -moz-transform: rotate(90deg); margin-left: -10px; float: right; color: #599C3E;][STYLE=letter-spacing: 2px;]M E X I C O [/style][/style] [STYLE=float: right; background: #599C3E; width: 100px; padding: 5px; margin-top: -310px; margin-right: 5px; text-transform: uppercase; font: 10px orator std; text-align: justify; line-height: 10px; letter-spacing: -1px; color: #000;]So they marched me down to the center of town with their pitchforks high in the air. I was chained and bound with a blindfold around, so the judge wouldn't catch my stare.
[/style] |
[STYLE=font-family: ms gothic; font-size: 12px; text-transform: uppercase;]MADE BY jumpstart! of btn, ote and ls[/style]
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Sadiq Adnan
Administrator
Bisexual.
30.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
We can only survive here, never truely live
|
Post by Turkey on Sept 21, 2012 14:52:00 GMT -6
Sadiq stood there, watching the flame move, watching her play with the wax and watched how she just stared into space. He was unsure what was going through her head, wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. He knew he needed to do something to help her, knock her out of whatever pathway her mind had gotten set on. One could not afford to think negatively in the manor. The first negative thought it sensed, it would grab a hold and pull, pulling more negative thoughts of the same wavelength along for the ride, making you feel each one separately. Anger, sadness, desperation, depression, and fear. These were only some of the things he had found the manor liked to play with, to enhance and mold to its purpose.
With a blink, he tensed up when he felt arms around him suddenly and looked down to see Mexico clinging to him, crying into his chest. Only after seeing it did the sobs reach his ears. He wasn’t quite sure what to do for her. Sadiq’s face changed to one of sympathy as he brought his arms up around to hold her, to rub his hands on her back gently in a comforting manner. The only two females he was ever around a lot before was Ukraine and Hungary, and he could handle when they cried, but he didn’t know Mexico well, didn’t know what to say to her to help her calm down and get her composure back. He could only guess and hope he did the right thing.
Letting them both sink to the ground, he brought her close and just held her as he would his little brother or someone else in a similar position. He moved one hand to run through her hair and the other on her back still. “Shh, It’s alright, I’m here. Nothing will hurt you.”
Throughout all of this, never once did he think of what happened to the candle.
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Survivor
Offline.
Why would I want to destroy something I helped build?
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Post by Mexico on Sept 22, 2012 23:57:22 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; vertical-align: top;][STYLE=width: 266px; padding: 17px 17px; text-align: justify; font: 11px tahoma; background: #190A11; border-radius: 50px 0px 0px 50px; color: #77A863; float: left; -moz-border-radius: 50px 0px 0px 50px;]
She stood at the steps in front of the Cathedral of Dolores. September 16th, 1810. It was late at night, only a few minutes before the sun would rise in glory. Everyone had left. The only sound that could be heard for miles was the rustling of leaves, and the cold of the night gently ceasing to exist. The rustling of leaves, and his footsteps. She knew he was coming. She had expected him to. Waited all night for the moment where his green eyes would rest on hers. Wondering, perhaps, if she had grown insane.
"¿Por qué debemos de encontrarnos bajo estas circunstancias?" He spoke in a soft tone. He stood many feet away from her, opposing a threat, but not much so that it would be wise to attack. The girl did not move. Even though every part of her wanted to run towards him. Her expression hardened and their eyes met. Locked within each other like tangled wires of light. "Sabes bien porque." She repeated, in a harsher tone. He smiled, and for the first time in 300 years, it wasn't a smile of affection. It was malevolent, almost cruel. The way his eyes shinned along with it made it unsettling. He laughed. A big, bad '¡Ja!' escaped his lips.
She knew it was foolish. She knew the possibility of winning was remote. Not only was she defenseless, but she was fighting against the biggest empire of the world. He was the one that had destroyed what once reigned. He had summited her, enslaved her for three centuries. He forced her to sit up and bark, and roll over in command. "Mi pequeña," His voice softened. "Mi niña, no intendo que nuestra historia termine de esta manera. Regresa conmigo. Vereis que eres feliz. ¿Acaso, te he herido tanto?" He took a step closer to her. His smile had disappeared. For a moment it looked like he was giving her a chance to think about the errors of her ways. To see the light in such a situation.
But she didn't vouch. A small tear escaped her eyes, as slowly her face turned towards the floor. Because she remembered what she had fought to forget. All the good that he had shared with her. She remembered how she used to look up at him. At his culture, his language, his beliefs. How much it hurt when she discovered she was simply a colony. No much more to an empire. Using her to become more than he was. "No." Her voice faded. "No puedo. Ya no puedo ser tu niña. Si, en efecto, me has herido. Y por eso debo pelear. Peleare por mi independencia, aunque tenga que pelear contra ti." There was sadness in her voice, but nothing compared how serious she was. Because she meant it. It hurt, there was no doubt about that. But only would she hurt herself more if she stayed. It was like a band aid. Only one more pull, quick. That was all she had to endure before she was free again.
There was disappointment in his face. He looked down for mere seconds, then straight into her eyes. The soft shade of chocolate brown. A pair of eyes he had seen grown. Now rebelling. Now demanding he step out of the way. "¿Estas segura?" He asked and she nodded. "Si así lo quieres." He said, and it began.
Mexico couldn't remember the last time she had cried in front of somebody. Maybe because she had never. Her fears and sadness, her begging for mercy in a train of nightmares were for her only. When the night grew cold and there was no one to listen. When she was alone in the mist of darkness. It was there when she let it all out. Let tears travel through her body. And then she would shut it out. Because it should be no more.
The girl felt how she slowly fell to the ground. Arms wrapped around her, she listened to Turkey's words. It was a lie. When you're alive everything and everyone can hurt you. When you're alive you're vulnerable to the cruelty of the world. It was easy to crawl into a mannequin skin to shield and protect in bandages of steel. It was easier to pretend nothing was wrong. Crying was useless. It did nothing to help solve matters. At the time flowing by, every second kneeling on the floor was wasted. Yet, she couldn't stop.
"Y-yo. I can't." |
[/color] She tried to speak. Did so in whatever languages she could. The words were trapped inside her throat, waiting to burst out the moment she let them. But the knot inside her stomach was more powerful. At any moment, she felt like she might throw up. "I'm broken, Turkey. I know so. This places, it's- it's getting the best of me. I- yo..."[/color] But the cries were stronger. Ana María sank further unto his chest, looking desperately for a moment of reassurance that everything would be okay. Mexico had meant it that day. When España looked her straight in the eyes, she meant it. She was not his little girl anymore. She was nobody's little girl. She wasn't a prisoner, wasn't trapped. She wasn't a prisoner. She wasn't trapped. She wasn't a prisoner. She wasn't trapped. She wasn't! She wasn't..."Turkey, tengo miedo."[/color] She turned to face him, whatever faith remained slowly walking away. Packing its suitcase and leaving for all that's worth. --- Spanish translations: - ¿Por qué debemos de encontrarnos bajo estas circunstancias?Why do we have to meet under this circumstances? - Sabes bien porque.You know why. - Mi pequeña. Mi niña, no intendo que nuestra historia termine de esta manera. Regresa conmigo. Vereis que eres feliz. ¿Acaso, te he herido tanto?Mi little one. My girl, I don't intend for our story to end this way. Come back to me. You'll be happy. Have I hurt you this much? - No. No puedo. Ya no puedo ser tu niña. Si, en efecto, me has herido. Y por eso debo pelear. Peleare por mi independencia, aunque tenga que pelear contra ti.No. I can't. I can no longer be your little girl. Yes, you have hurt me. And for that I must fight. I'll fight for my independence, even if I have to fight you. - ¿Estas segura? Si así lo quieres.Are you sure? If that's what you want. [/style][STYLE=font: 35px impact; letter-spacing: -1px; margin-top: -415px; line-height: 35px; -o-transform: rotate(90deg); -webkit-transform: rotate(90deg); -moz-transform: rotate(90deg); margin-left: -10px; float: right; color: #599C3E;][STYLE=letter-spacing: 2px;]M E X I C O [/style][/style] [STYLE=float: right; background: #599C3E; width: 100px; padding: 5px; margin-top: -310px; margin-right: 5px; text-transform: uppercase; font: 10px orator std; text-align: justify; line-height: 10px; letter-spacing: -1px; color: #000;]So they marched me down to the center of town with their pitchforks high in the air. I was chained and bound with a blindfold around, so the judge wouldn't catch my stare. [/style][/td][/tr][/table][STYLE=font-family: ms gothic; font-size: 12px; text-transform: uppercase;]MADE BY jumpstart! of btn, ote and ls[/style][/center]
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Sadiq Adnan
Administrator
Bisexual.
30.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
We can only survive here, never truely live
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Post by Turkey on Sept 29, 2012 13:48:57 GMT -6
How many people had cried in front of Sadiq over the years? He couldn’t quite remember, but he thought it was no more than a handful. It was a shock to have this Nation he barely knew holding on to him like a lifeline, crying her eyes out, but he couldn’t blame her. This place seemed to be able to get into their heads, play with their emotions and use whatever it found against him. All he knew to do for her was to hug her and try and comfort her. If it was someone he knew, he might have been able to get them smiling or make them feel better, but that was nearly impossible with someone you scarce knew.
He lowered his voice to the comforting level he used with his brother when he was afraid and continued to rub her back, to let her know that he was still there. “You’re not broken. Bent maybe, but not broken. From what I know, you are a strong woman who has been through much; you’ve learned how to change with the times and keep afloat. This shows a flexible mind, and a flexible mind is nearly impossible to break. You will weather the storm and come back whole, if not the more wiser for it.”
He felt her sink more into his chest, trying to seek the comfort and reassurance she so desperately needed and his heart went out to her, he wanted to help her. He felt her fear, felt her trembling. “It’s alright to be afraid, fear is healthy, it shows you know your limit, but it also presents a challenge.” He leaned his head down and kissed the top of her head before lifting her head up to look at him. “It’s a challenge to you, are you going to let fear rule you, dictate what you can and can’t do? Or are you going to stand up to fear and tell it to go screw itself. You were once under Spain if I’m not mistaken and you told him to shove off. Do the same with fear. You can overcome it Mexico. You are stronger than you think you are. Now can you show me the strength of someone who told the Spanish Empire to go screw themselves and came out on top?”
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Survivor
Offline.
Why would I want to destroy something I helped build?
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Post by Mexico on Sept 30, 2012 0:06:52 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; vertical-align: top;][STYLE=width: 266px; padding: 17px 17px; text-align: justify; font: 11px tahoma; background: #190A11; border-radius: 50px 0px 0px 50px; color: #77A863; float: left; -moz-border-radius: 50px 0px 0px 50px;] She felt like trees were cutting her as she ran through the forest. A forest of unreality. That didn't exist. That no one saw. And therefore, that no one could attempt to try and rescue her. She couldn't stop. She couldn't relax. She half-expected to keep crying, forever. Keep running, from everything and everyone. Damn it! She thought. Mexico was angry. Rage consuming every inch of her body. Fire traveling through a ticking bomb. She didn't cry. Canada cries. Colombia cries. Brazil cries. Philippines cries... But not her. She refused to be the victim. She refused to feel the warmth and sympathy, the pity of the person trying to soothe her greatest fears. She refused to feel that she deserved to be cared for.
And so, with an angry heart, he forced her to look at him. She tried to fight it, but he was stronger than her. The tears streaming down her face were too much for her to bear. Too much to take in. Mexico couldn't honestly say why it bothered her so much. Why crying meant such an emotional turmoil. It made her vulnerable. Almost insecure and she hated feeling insecure.
Broken. Bent. It made no difference. It was still the same. Mexico knew it. She hadn't been willing to admit it but she understood it now. No matter what happened, if she was lucky enough to survive this, to get out alive, the guilt, the impact of the outside world would be too much. Would the surviving nations be able to go on with their lives after all that had happened? It was undeniable, and Mexico wasn't being pessimistic, it was what it was, that someone would die and be trapped here forever. She wouldn't be able to simply get on with her life. Assuming she had the strength needed to even endure till the end. She couldn't go back and pretend it didn't happen. She would never be able to be the same. And that thought alone scared her.
When he kissed the top of her head, it had felt soothing. Relaxing even. For a moment there wasn't any wars, or arguments, or a restless need to survive. They were candy bars, and sharing a meal, and going to the beach on a sunny day. For a moment everything was perfect. Then it stopped.
Ana María looked at the turk with disbelief, even slight resentment. How dare he talk about such a thing? How dare he pretend to even know her? He had no idea what this was all about. He didn't know why she was crying. Why she said what she said. Why even, she had done those things in the past. There was a reason why she had been brought down to her feet. A reason why she had her insides scattered across the place. Mexico couldn't understand why his words made her so mad. But then again, she wasn't stable. For days she had fought the voices inside her head. Those who gave her the ultimate solution. Those who she tried to ignore, but in the end prevailed with greater strength.
"¡Callate! Shut up! Shut up! Just stop!" |
[/color] She screamed. Her words were trembling. Her whole being was trembling. She couldn't see her reflection, but she had the feeling she wouldn't like it. She tried to break free of his grasp with desperate punches. She didn't measure her strength and she didn't care. The only thing that she cared about was regaining her personal space. She stood up, almost falling down in the process, and walked away from him. It suddenly became unbearably cold. Mexico turned around, praying for a mask stronger than the one she had on. She hugged herself firmly, trying to compose and warm her body. She sunk her head slightly to the ground. Ana María prayed her long brown hair would work as curtains, shielding her from the world. This was too much. "Lo siento, but you cannot understand."[/color] She said, her voice beginning to cease in volume. "It is not a challenge if you decide it's not worth playing. Being afraid does nothing. It doesn't help you.[/color] She took a deep breath, for she was short on air. She wished she could be stronger. Perhaps even, acquired the strength of a boy. Biologically, they had more endurance and capacity to stand what she, a girl, could not. "Am I really?"[/color] She turned towards Turkey. Not believing his words for a moment. There was a small hint of cynicism in the way her sentence portrayed. "I am weak, and tired, and so malditamente hungry. I feel like I'm dying. I am angry, all the time, and I don't know why."[/color] She sniffled, fighting the urge to wipe off her tears for fear the mask might come off. Mexico walked towards him, her expression hardened. "Do you know what it's like to be a female country? No, claro que no. It doesn't matter that I defeated España when he was in all his glory. It doesn't matter because no one remembers. When you're a chica, you don't automatically get the respect you get. By definition, everyone thinks you're needy, and weak, and can't wait but to be saved by a pinche heroe."[/color] She stopped for a moment. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Because what she was about to say seemed surreal. She hadn't wanted to say out loud, but it was inevitable. She had to get it out of her chest. Never mind the consequences. "I could be the strongest of them all and it wouldn't matter. Because in the end, that thing will win. Might as well beat it to it."[/color] Cross your heart and hope to die. [/style][STYLE=font: 35px impact; letter-spacing: -1px; margin-top: -415px; line-height: 35px; -o-transform: rotate(90deg); -webkit-transform: rotate(90deg); -moz-transform: rotate(90deg); margin-left: -10px; float: right; color: #599C3E;][STYLE=letter-spacing: 2px;]M E X I C O [/style][/style] [STYLE=float: right; background: #599C3E; width: 100px; padding: 5px; margin-top: -310px; margin-right: 5px; text-transform: uppercase; font: 10px orator std; text-align: justify; line-height: 10px; letter-spacing: -1px; color: #000;]So they marched me down to the center of town with their pitchforks high in the air. I was chained and bound with a blindfold around, so the judge wouldn't catch my stare. [/style][/td][/tr][/table][STYLE=font-family: ms gothic; font-size: 12px; text-transform: uppercase;]MADE BY jumpstart! of btn, ote and ls[/style][/center]
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Sadiq Adnan
Administrator
Bisexual.
30.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
We can only survive here, never truely live
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Post by Turkey on Sept 30, 2012 16:20:21 GMT -6
Sadiq had thought that his efforts to calm her down had worked, were working, but he quickly found out he was wrong. No longer was he holding a girl who had been reduced to childlike tears, now he was dealing with a woman he had, it seemed, somehow pissed off. He grunted at the force of the hits, knowing he’d have a few bruises, but it didn’t matter, she felt the need to lash out, so he would let her. It was one of the stages of acceptance after all. He would continue to let her lash out until she felt the violent need that he had apparently awoken in her pass. He knew it would eventually, no Nation, no human, could sustain anger for very long without it eating them alive.
He let her go, watched her walk away from him, nearly falling in the process, but that was alright. It was alright because she was standing on her own two feet. It might be anger driven, but as long as she used the anger and not the other way around, it should actually help her. Hearing her words to him, he merely sighed, really, did she forget who he was talking to. Her words brought back memories of days long past, of days when he had given up himself, thought he was going to be swallowed whole and never seen again. He lowered his head and closed his eyes to fight the twinges in his chest that those memories always brought back.
“You don’t think I can understand the all-consuming fear that comes with thinking you have been beaten, the fear that comes with knowing there is nothing you can do to make a situation better, knowing that at any second you can die and have someone else just as easily take your place; waiting for someone to come along and tell you that you’re not needed anymore, to be literally stabbed in the back. I understand all that perfectly well my dear.” He had to stop and swallow, his voice was dry and he could hear a crack in it. “But if you give into it, you have already lost and accepted whatever is coming. It shows you don’t care about the future, you don’t care about you country, you don’t care about yourself. Only someone who is shallow and cold and uncaring can give up that easily. And my dear, I don’t know you at all, but I have heard of some of the things you have done, and unlike me, you have never quit.” He looked up at her and his eyes were cold with the remembrance of the past, of how he himself had given up.
He heard her words and cocked his head a bit before standing up and regarding her with a critical eye. The cold was getting to him, making him colder, it seemed, in all ways. His words sounded cold to him, colder than he possibly should be. “If you were truly broken and not bent, you wouldn’t be feeling like you were dying inside, you’d feel like you were dead. And to end the feeling you’d probably tried to make yourself match how you were feeing, so no, you are not broken. I can still see that spark of life in you. It might be smothered a little, but it’s still there.”
Sadiq watched her walk more towards him, very interested in what she wanted to say after all this. Her words flowed and seemed like they were trying to stab at him. Trying to stab at him with feathers. They might have been meant to really hurt him, but it had the opposite affect. They made him laugh. He felt himself start cracking up laughing. Oh this was just too funny to him. “Really, you have such a …negative view about female nations. Take pride in yourself woman! I may not be a woman, but you yourself are forgetting I know many strong female nations. Ancient Greece was female and people were terrified of her people and of her. Ancient Egypt was female and they feared her too. Both were praised for their combat knowledge. And don’t forget Hungary. She demands respect; other nations fear getting hit by that frying pan of hers. She has had to save Austria before, a Male Nation. Want me to list others? I would be more than willing to. Siting on your ass will yield nothing. I don’t know whose definition you’re going by, but the male Nations I know respect the female ones and do not think they are weak and needy. So if you see yourself as weak and needy, that is you alone seeing that.”
Taking a deep breath, he realized he had slipped in lecture mode and he hoped he had gotten through to her how stupid she was being about blaming her gender for her weakness. If she was weak, it was her herself that was weak, not her gender.
Hearing the last of her words, Sadiq frowned… she she mean what he thought she meant… was she really thinking of ending her own life to make sure no one ended it for her? A growl issued from his throat. She was making him mad now; he would not deal with this behavior on his watch. “I hope you don’t mean what I think you mean, if so, so help me I’m going to smack you. If you do that, you’ll be giving the house exactly what it wants… you want to prove yourself strong, then you will fucking deal with what is going on and survive whatever this damn house throws at you like the Nation that you are!”
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Survivor
Offline.
Why would I want to destroy something I helped build?
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Post by Mexico on Sept 30, 2012 17:14:52 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; vertical-align: top;][STYLE=width: 266px; padding: 17px 17px; text-align: justify; font: 11px tahoma; background: #190A11; border-radius: 50px 0px 0px 50px; color: #77A863; float: left; -moz-border-radius: 50px 0px 0px 50px;] The girl took a step back. Her hands turned into clenched fists. Her fingers pressing so hard that her fingernails dug into her palms. She knew that if she didn't compose herself she would snap at him. Fight the urge to smack him across his face because no one had the right to talk to her that way. It didn't matter if he was right. It didn't matter what he said or she even cared enough to listen. She didn't appreciate being scowled. Especially for things she had no control over. Did he really think she wanted this? Did he really think that she was telling him this out of spite or to make conversation? She should've trusted her good judgement. She should've kept her mouth shut. It only brought her problems.
Yes, she wanted to blame it all on something. But she couldn't. There wasn't anything to blame it on. Because everything that happened here was of her own accord. Sure, the Manor made them feel and remember things they had fought over to years to hide, but how they reacted to it, how she reacted to it, was of her own will. Maybe that was why she was so frustrated and irritated and wanted to beat the hell out of the first thing she saw. Mexico knew that this much anger wasn't healthy. No matter what others said, having all this rage inside this heart, like a monster waiting to come out, isn't by any definition, a good thing.
The crystal had broken. And everything that she had yearned not to feel was slipping away from her fingers and pouring over her body. No magic words, no bandaids or bandages would be strong enough to mend it. Because they had finally burst. "I don't care!" |
[/color] She yelled as loud as she could. Maybe when they tried to talk to her in a soothing manner, when everything and everyone was calm, then she would listen. But when words were thrown around and it all became a fight about who was right and what not. The moment they started yelling at her, something she truly despite, she stopped listening. She would be stubborn to the point of stupidity and even when she knew deep down she was wrong, she would argue just for the sake of not losing. It was an immature attempt at protecting herself, but it was her way. The only way she knew how. And the only way that seemed to work. "You have no right to lecture me! I've had enough of it, thank you very much. I'm not blaming it on my gender. Do you want me to blame it on something? Fine! I blame it on myself."[/color] She couldn't see if the tears were gone. They probably were. Ana María walked over towards Turkey. When she was standing directly in front of him, she looked up. It was obvious he was taller, and by definition much more intimidating. But she didn't care. Her expression was no longer her own. She was being uncharacteristically bitter and cynical. She could barely remember what it was like to smile in the face of adversity. She had lost all sense of who she was. But Turkey didn't have to know that. No one had to know. "¡Puedo hacer lo que se me de la chingada gana hacer!"[/color] She exclaimed in Spanish before she could stop herself. Her words were more powerful and serious, for her anger was being displayed in its true form. On who she was without the mask. "Say what you mean and mean what you say. You know, maybe I am selfish. Maybe I only care about myself. Maybe I want it to end because that's the way it's gonna end anyway. I'm tired of having to prove my nation worth or even my worth. Esa cosa would end up destroying us! You may want to stay here and fight, but I don't. Not anymore."[/color] Mexico looked directly in his eyes. Her fists were turning white and she was sure she could feel the blood pouring as her nails dug deeper into her palms. They were trembling, as they were containing all the whirlpool of emotion. She fought the urge to reach for her trustful machete and point at him. Desperate to end this with violence. But for once, her willpower was enough to stay at a firm 'no'. She had to remember that it wasn't Turkey who she was mad at. In part it was his words, but those words might as well have come from someone else. What made her mad was that they were true and she was unwilling to accept it. Because it meant admitting defeat. It was so complicated to understand just exactly what she was feeling that she wished there would be something to knock her out cold, so she could dream and forget. Wake up to a brand new day and start over. ----- *Spanish translations: - ¡Puedo hacer lo que se me de la chingada gana hacer!I can do whatever the hell I want! - Esa cosa.That thing. [/style][STYLE=font: 35px impact; letter-spacing: -1px; margin-top: -415px; line-height: 35px; -o-transform: rotate(90deg); -webkit-transform: rotate(90deg); -moz-transform: rotate(90deg); margin-left: -10px; float: right; color: #599C3E;][STYLE=letter-spacing: 2px;]M E X I C O [/style][/style] [STYLE=float: right; background: #599C3E; width: 100px; padding: 5px; margin-top: -310px; margin-right: 5px; text-transform: uppercase; font: 10px orator std; text-align: justify; line-height: 10px; letter-spacing: -1px; color: #000;]So they marched me down to the center of town with their pitchforks high in the air. I was chained and bound with a blindfold around, so the judge wouldn't catch my stare. [/style][/td][/tr][/table][STYLE=font-family: ms gothic; font-size: 12px; text-transform: uppercase;]MADE BY jumpstart! of btn, ote and ls[/style][/center]
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Sadiq Adnan
Administrator
Bisexual.
30.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
We can only survive here, never truely live
|
Post by Turkey on Oct 19, 2012 22:38:26 GMT -6
He watched her closely, watched the anger boil beneath her skin. Anger was good in some ways; as long as she was angry she couldn’t wallow and drown in her sorrow. But she needed to focus that anger. Unfocused anger hurt everyone including one’s self. If she could just focus it, she could beat anything, overcome anything. He watched the rage cross her face, waited for it to come out. Hopefully she was realizing the foolishness of her words, or would soon. She had to. He would not let the house claim her while he could do something about it. He would not let someone parish in front of him.
“You don’t care? You don’t care that someone could possibly know how you feel, would be willing to try and help you? Stop being the drama queen. You don’t want to be lectured, fine, I won’t lecture you. You don’t want my help, fine, I won’t help you. Just don’t forget this is what you wanted. They always say be careful what you wish for, you may just get it.” His eye twitched along with his lip. She was annoying him with her refusal to listen to reason, her refusal to talk calmly with him when he was talking calmly with her. He might have been speaking harshly, but to get yelled at for trying to help her, then so be it.
Sadiq watched her walk closer and crossed his arms behind his head, listening to what she said and nodding slightly. “I might not have a right to lecture you, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t need to hear what I had to say. I don’t want you to blame anything; I want you to realize this is the manor affecting you and hear what you’re saying.” His face was hard and blank as he talked to her. She wanted to be mean to someone who was only trying to help her, fine, he would be cold right back. Being cold helped he deal with certain things, and this was one of them.
“Ya know, I had always wanted to meet and talk to one of the people who helped put Spain in his place before, but I guess that won’t happen. As you are now, you couldn’t put anyone in their place, much less an empire. Like a little kid striking out at something they don’t like, hoping it will go away instead of trying to change it yourself.”
He waited for her to finish talking before he cocked his head to the side and shrugged his shoulders and went to sit on one of the boxes he could find near him. He knew he was being mean, but he didn’t care. He would do what he needed to do to try and help her out of whatever her mind was. Mr. Nice guy hadn’t worked, so now it was Mr. Hardass time to try. “Save it the trouble to trying to take you out by taking yourself out… hah, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You really think it would let you out of the horror so easily. I bet this place would make us ghosts or something, torturing us even after death. Not me. I’d rather go down fighting, make it work to get me. Show it that Sadiq Adnan is a fighter and I will give it Hell in the process. I did not survive this long to be taken out like a leaf in a wind storm. So if you want to kill yourself and prove just how weak you actually are in the presence of one of the Nations that has the utmost respect for any female, go ahead. Prove me wrong in my belief that female Nations are some of the strongest there are.”
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Survivor
Offline.
Why would I want to destroy something I helped build?
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Post by Mexico on Oct 21, 2012 22:29:52 GMT -6
She wasn't listening. She tried not to listen. She refused to listen. Her fists pressed so hard, her nails digging into her palms that blood started to pour. She was ultimately afraid of the rage that developed in her heart. There were few who knew this secret, dark side of her. It was something beyond reason. There is always a reason behind everything we do and say. She wasn't who she was because one day she had woke up and decided to be bubbly. Ana María was optimistic, and gentle, and happy-go-lucky because it helped her deal with life. Because she knew that things shouldn't be this hard. No one should have to put up with it and take on the fight alone.
She protected her heart one laugh at a time. Those were the only emotions worth living for. Her greatest weakness, she realized, was that she didn't forgive or forget. Not when the wound was too deep. Not when it hurt her so.
A drama queen? Mexico almost chuckled. He had no idea what was a drama queen. He thought she was just making up this act? That she poured her heart out because she had nothing else to do? No, no. He didn't know her. That much was clear. And he was right, she didn't want his help. She didn't need anyone's help. What good those that do? There is no one there when you sink to the bottom. When your world comes crashing down. You're alone then. So why should there be someone there when you try to climb up? Why should there be someone there extending their hand, when there was no one there to save you from falling in the first place? If she couldn't trust anyone then, why should she now? What had changed that made it all significant? She wanted to know what was the difference. Turkey might've not realized it at the moment, but Ana María was quite aware of what she was saying. She did not dare to speak about something that mattered without her thoughts being perpetually analyzed. Did he think that she would just open up to him, ignoring the consequences? No. She knew what she was saying. She realized the extent of her words, and the emotional turmoil that they had on her. Even after all these years.
"They always say be careful what you wish for, you may just get it.”
She smiled at him. A disturbingly creepy smile. The sort of smile that would worry someone, for it only reflected the dark side, Everything good shut down. "You arre rrright."[/color] She said. Her accent came out thick, and her r's rolled continuously. Anyone would've thought that the way she said it, indicated she was careless of her words, but in all sincerity, she had never been more serious. She looked at the taller nation with certain disregard. "I have to be careful what I wish for, and I wish to be left alone."[/color] She shot him a deadly glare before turning around and taking one step into the darkness. She ignored the fact that she would most likely prefer to stay with him than be left alone. It is easy to shut someone up, but no one can silence the voices in her head. Not even her.
With every step she took, into the direction she so thoroughly wished was right, she could feel a huge aching in her heart. She knew she had left the turk talking, what she didn't realize was the extent by which his words reach her.
“Ya know, I had always wanted to meet and talk to one of the people who helped put Spain in his place before, but I guess that won’t happen. As you are now, you couldn’t put anyone in their place, much less an empire. Like a little kid striking out at something they don’t like, hoping it will go away instead of trying to change it yourself.”
She stopped. She wasn't sure why she stopped. It was like those words had glued her feet deep into the ground, forcing her to listen. Mexico looked down at her feet, trying to calm her reaction. She was not overly fond of being talked in such a manner, and it was beginning to irritate her beyond belief. For a moment she wasn't sure if he was doing this, pushing her buttons, just to annoy her. But how was it that he knew exactly which buttons to push? If this was the result of a stranger, heaven forbid of someone who actually knew her. "Sabes, when I defeated the monster, I realized something. I realized that I don't feel. I don't let myself feel anything. And now, everything is coming at me, crushing me from every corner."[/color] She turned around to face him, and could barely see him in the darkness of the room. If only that candle hadn't worn out, who knew where they would be now? "If you must know, I defeated España because I believed in the cause. I may have not been strong but I knew I deserved independence. Now I-"[/color] She stood for a moment without knowing what to say, how to rectify her words. She needed to prove her point somehow. This definite vulnerability was too much for her to handle. Perhaps as much as being naked in front of him.
“Save it the trouble to trying to take you out by taking yourself out… hah, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You really think it would let you out of the horror so easily. I bet this place would make us ghosts or something, torturing us even after death. Not me. I’d rather go down fighting, make it work to get me. Show it that Sadiq Adnan is a fighter and I will give it Hell in the process. I did not survive this long to be taken out like a leaf in a wind storm. So if you want to kill yourself and prove just how weak you actually are in the presence of one of the Nations that has the utmost respect for any female, go ahead. Prove me wrong in my belief that female Nations are some of the strongest there are.”
"I didn't ask for your opinion, now did I? ¿O si?"[/color] She yelled. Mexico could sense deep into herself that she was losing. She was losing an argument. Turkey, as irritating as he was, had a point. A point she did not want to take into account because she was tired. It is easier to give in. It's easy to throw your arms in the air and admit defeat. It's easier, but that doesn't mean it's right. The line between easy and right had always been no more than a blur to her. A dot in the distance with no significance to her whatsoever. She would stare at that line and never find the beginning. "I would prove you wrong. I would if I only had the strength to keep with this argument. But news flash, and I'm tired. So-"[/color] She did not move, although it would've been appropriate to do so. Ana María wanted to see Sadiq's face. She wanted to be able to read him and diminish whatever it was he said. She didn't want to listen to him. Or anyone.
"Tell me, what exactly do you want from me?"[/color] She asked desperately. Wanting to end it all. No feelings. No emotions. Walk with her head held high. But walk towards something worth moving to. She wanted to move forward, pass this, and forget. It was the only thing she really knew how to do. It was the only thing she was ultimately great at.
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Sadiq Adnan
Administrator
Bisexual.
30.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
We can only survive here, never truely live
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Post by Turkey on Oct 23, 2012 0:44:50 GMT -6
Sadiq sat where he was and crossed his ankles. While he couldn’t see her as well here, he could see her general outline, a dark shadow against the black background. It was only the fact that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. Though it was dark and hard to see, he could still see when she smiled at him. It wasn’t a normal smile, it seemed darker somehow, like the person behind it wasn’t all there…like the smile that was said to grace the Cheshire cat, one that could promise great pain if the wrong thing was said or the wrong action was taken. Her words ran in his ears, it seemed like she did know what she wanted. He would grant her wish to a point. He would leave her alone unless she sought him out or asked for his help.
"Sabes, when I defeated the monster, I realized something. I realized that I don't feel. I don't let myself feel anything. And now, everything is coming at me, crushing me from every corner. If you must know, I defeated España because I believed in the cause. I may have not been strong but I knew I deserved independence. Now I-"
He waited a minute for her to finish her sentence, but realized that Mexico wasn’t going to finish that thought. He listened carefully to her words and thought them over. They revealed so much about her, more than she probably realized they did. Being crushed by emotions wasn’t easy and would certainly account for her backlash to some of the things he had said. She was off center, unbalanced. The Manor was getting to her. It was enough that she was stuck in a horror mansion with no way out, but to be attacked by monsters as well, that would be enough to rock her mental stability, especially since it sounded like she was paying the price for shutting off her emotions in order to survive. Cutting off the emotions always made them stronger later, but he could tell it had been the only way she could have survived it. Sadiq had watched her walk away from him a few exchanges ago and had let her. She wanted to be alone, he would let her until he knew that she would accept his presence. It was what she wanted after all, to be left alone.
"I didn't ask for your opinion, now did I? ¿O si.”
No, she didn’t ask for his opinion, but he had given it to her anyway, knowing that she needed to hear it even if she didn’t want to listen to him. As long as it was said and some part of her heard what he said, hopefully it would sink in later. He knew he had no responsibility towards her, he barely knew her, but his own code of ethics and morals wouldn’t let him leave her totally alone.
"I would prove you wrong. I would if I only had the strength to keep with this argument. But news flash, and I'm tired. So-"
So she was tired too; that would account for the crushing emotions and the verbal attacks seemingly out of nowhere. He bet she was hungry too, but there was nothing he could do about food, but perhaps he could help her with her sleep. Sleep was more important than food in this case. Sadiq knew the body could go longer with no food than it could no sleep, and it seemed like she was getting close to reaching her limits. Shifting how he was sitting, he stood up and started walking towards her, making sure his steps were loud enough for her to hear. He didn’t want to scare her; didn’t want her to react and accidently hurt him either. She had to trust him for his idea to work, and hopefully he had been able to show that she could.
"Tell me, what exactly do you want from me?"
She thought he wanted something her. Well, he couldn’t blame her in thinking that. In this place, it would be odd if someone didn’t want something out of others, it was how they were being reduced to acting here, always on the lookout for themselves and only themselves. He could hopefully use this to his advantage. Stopping a few steps behind her, he hummed to himself as if in thought.
“What do I want? I want you to rest. You said you’re tired. Let me watch over you while you sleep and relax. Your body needs to rest to function, needs rest to heal any type of wounds it may have gotten. I swear by all that I hold dear, that as the Republic of Turkey , and the former Ottoman Empire, I will let no harm come to you. After you wake up, I’ll support you in any decision you make, I will not try to stop you. What say you? Will you take me up on my offer?”
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