Vasile Ionescu
Survivor
Played by Roma.
Offline.
"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players"
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Post by Romania on Feb 3, 2013 10:09:17 GMT -6
Vasile loved cemeteries. Back home, whenever he was in need of company, inspiration or just plain someone to talk to, he would find an old cemetery, bring gifts and sit down to chat with the dead for hours on end. He’d talk about everything from trivial matters to telling the dead people – his people – what it was like to be a nation and asking the departed what he could do to make the cemetery a better place for them.
He’d listen to their worries and in exchange, they’d listen to him and tell him tales; folklore and ghost stories, tales of the past as seen through human eyes. He’d come to get inspiration for his pranks, and stay for the emotions the ghosts poured into their stories. Stay for the heartwarming feeling he got out of listening to his people share their pains and joys. It made Vasile feel human.
And Vasile truly believed that all nations were, in the end, humans themselves. More powerful and long lived, but still liable to experience heartbreak, sorrow and pain. Their thought process didn’t much differ from that of an ordinary citizen.
Sure, they might be smarter and there might not be a limit to the amount of history they could remember and relive at any given moment, but if anything, that just made them humans with above average memory and information processing capabilities. Nothing more. Vasile had gotten a confirmation of that the second they had stepped inside the manor; stripped from their powers and immortality, they panicked, they feared and… they died, just like any regular human would. It was funny in a dark sort of way; every time Vasile had visited cemeteries in the past, he had wondered what it would be like to look at all the graves, at all the death as a mortal.
Well, now he knew. It wasn’t a particularly nice feeling.
Vasile was standing in the middle of the manor’s graveyard, hands in his pockets and gaze wandering over the various stones and their inscriptions. He could feel the presence of ghosts; he’d been able to feel them ever since he pushed open the doors and set foot into the cool, chilling air outside. The air was thick with spirits, with emotions, all heavy and depressing.
This graveyard wasn’t the same as the ones he used to frequent back home, not at all. While usually cemeteries were home to a multitude of different emotions, longing, release, fulfillment, the only feeling Vasile could feel here was sorrow. The people who had died and gotten buried here were not happy to have moved on, and there were no loved ones visiting and cleaning up the last sleeping places of the departed, to wish them all the best and to tell them not to worry for them. There couldn’t be, because… more likely than not, no loved one was alive to do that. The entire Baudeau family, they all resided here, side by side, forgotten.
It… was honestly way too sad.
Vasile wasn’t much of a talker when it came to comforting someone. He hated having to speak about serious matters, and always found himself at a loss for words when he saw someone sad. So how in the world could he ever figure out what to say to these people? What could he possibly say to ease their pain? Words were weak. Meaningless. The best he could do was make small talk.
The Romanian shook his head, bending his back to pick up a knocked over gravestone. It was the first time in months since he was this quiet. It felt weird. Maybe the manor was slowly getting to him? He knew from the start he wasn’t invincible against the horrors and spirits the place was filled with, knew from the start it was only a matter of time until he cracked as well. He just would’ve preferred it to be later rather than sooner.
He sighed, shaking his head again as he straightened and dusted off his hands. The gravestone was standing again now, its cold, stony surface displaying the name of some poor girl Vasile didn’t know. Well, he assumed it was a girl, but it could have very well been a woman; he stone was so worn one couldn’t make out the dates. It must’ve stood there for a century by now.
Vasile really, really felt like he should leave. Staying here longer would just make him even more uncharacteristically negative. But if he left now, who would keep company to the ghosts and the graves?
The Romanian was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even hear the nearing footsteps that indicated he would soon be the one to receive company.
Whether it was wanted or not.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 3, 2013 16:27:51 GMT -6
For as long as he could remember, a graveyard was the place one came to grieve and release their sorrows. A place where the dead could finally start their eternity of rest; at least until night came. When he was still nothing more than a child viewing the world for the first time, Kiku could see all sorts of spirits and ghouls of the night-even some of the "myths" from his own country. They never filled him with a sense of dread, he felt no fear when speaking to them. One could even say he was relaxed in such moments, finally, someone else to communicate with. Someone who could tell him what the world was like, what was out there-- the dangers lurking.
China taught him many things that was something he couldn't deny, but so did the lingering spirits. Back then, how was he to know what he'd been speaking to? As far as he knew they were just ordinary people wandering about the house, perhaps one of Yao's new servants who got a little to curious about the boy.
As he grew older and the meaning of death changed in his mind, little by little he began to realize what he'd been speaking with. And it filled him with regret. After all, nation's may have been more powerful and wiser than humans, but they weren't gods. No one could bring the dead back to life, it was impossible.
The realm of spirits, oftentimes, was something he wished to forget. The cries, pleas, begging for help-it was too painful to listen to. Especially when he could do nothing to help, some wanted more than he could offer. China was none too thrilled when he realized what the younger nation could do, forbade him from ever speaking with such a creature again.
Creature?
Were they not human as well? Simply because they died that stripped them and the ones left behind the right to call them human beings? For what reason? Why? Always a question-never an answer.
Death in general was, confusing. It'd been a long time since he lost anyone of importance that he cared for, or a friend in general-would he even know how to react? How did one handle the death of someone they were close to? How did you handle death at all? Yes, you mourned and cried he knew that much, but were their any steps one had to take in moving on? Did you ever move on? How? Why? Moving on was...forgetting wasn't it? Why would you want to forget someone who meant so much to you? It made no sense.
Humanity and mortality was...confusing.
And with how long he'd been in this mansion Japan was beginning to wish he never knew what being mortal felt like; it was an experience he didn't want to revisit. Ever again. Being as mortal as he felt, the concept of actually being able to die in this place-it scared him. For the first time since the World War Kiku was terrified of death being a possibility for him and the others. Which one of them had a chance to survive for awhile? Who would fall easily? And who, if any, would be left behind in this place? Just because nation's were wiser than humans, it didn't mean they weren't human in another sense.
'The strong will live and the weak will die.'
Life had never been fair, but this Mansion and it's rules were downright cruel. Even if he happened to fall victim to it's clutches Japan would make sure his friends and everyone would be able to get out safely. No matter the cost.
So how had he found himself out here? Simple, curiosity was a powerful, undeniable force. It was for that very reason he decided to get some form of fresh air, staying in that mansion for too long would drive him insane and push him across a line that should never be crossed. It was pushing him to days long past-and a personality that should remain buried. Plus, it was an escape. A chance to pay his respects to the former inhabitants of this Manor, while he had no incense to burn or flowers to bring, it was the thought that counted. Perhaps, if one day he had the time, he'd clean the graves for them. Every last one. They deserved that much.
"Oh.." he began, spotting another figure standing in the distance, too far to tell who it was. Or what for that matter. A former resident paying respect to a fallen family member? An old victim of the manor itself? Could it be one of their own?
He advanced as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb it if it was in fact a ghost, they never took a liking to people that disturbed their brief moments of peace--at least not in his country. But the closer he got the more he realized the person was human-well, a nation actually, but the fact was he finally met someone. Oh, what was his name? America had been commuting with him during the party. Vas-no...human name eluding his mind, the Asian decided it best to just approach with the nation name.
Now, if he could remember that...
Ro- ...Romania.
"I wasn't expecting to see anyone else out here, you don't seem hurt."
It was more of an inquiry then a statement, still, once he realized what the other was looking at the Japanese male slowly knelt down. Hazel orbs shutting, hands coming together in a silent prayer.
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Astrit Zupan
Survivor
Pansexual.
Single.
13.
Played by Koso.
Offline.
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Post by Kosovo on Feb 4, 2013 0:03:57 GMT -6
Astrit hadn't exactly realized there was a graveyard, but now that he was here it didn't seem like such a bad place to go.
He had had a little time to think it through already, but the boy was still reeling from what he had done in that horrible chamber; the drumbeat was still constant in his head, telling him that he had killed. That he was a murderer, now. Even if his opponent had allowed it.
The graveyard was chilly and dark, appropriate enough for its nature and his mood. Hopelessly, Astrit wondered if he would have been able to bring Gilbert's body with him if he had known this was here. He might have tried, out of this overwhelming guilt that begged him to make amends somehow, but he doubted he would have gotten very far. Had their fates been reversed, Gilbert would probably have been strong enough to carry Astrit's small body to the ends of the earth if he'd wanted to, but it just didn't work this way around.
That didn't stop the boy from blaming himself for not trying. Even if it would have meant dragging a body that outweighed him by almost as much as his own (admittedly scanty) weight over again, through interminable halls and mountainous staircases, he should have tried to do the proper thing.
Even if that was impossible. It had been all he could do to bring Prussia's sword this far, and the sword was for obvious reasons much easier to carry than its wielder.
But he was not alone here, Astrit realized. There were two others in the graveyard already: one he was fairly certain was Japan, and the other his neighbor Vasile. Romania. He frowned... who was Romania to him? It should have been immediately obvious--he knew who the other nation was instantly, and that they had not lived very far apart--but try as he might he could not remember how or even if they had interacted.
That was unsettling. Was it shock, was it the yawning chasm between his memories of home and the dizzy reality of the present? Or was something stealing his memories? Neither could be good.
Walking as quietly as he could on the hard ground, carefully keeping the sword suspended off the ground, Astrit followed Japan towards his pensive neighbor.
The Asian began to speak then, and Astrit froze, torn between speaking up himself and staying out of sight.
"I wasn't expecting to see anyone else out here, you don't seem hurt," Japan was saying.
Deciding finally that it was better to reveal himself purposely now than to be caught eavesdropping and perhaps suspected of malice later, Astrit let the tip of the sword fall to the ground with a soft thump and croaked,"I wasn't expecting to see anyone here either, but here there's two of you."
The rusty, ragged sound of his own voice shocked him. It was a little lower than he was used to, like he was sick--or like he had been crying. He might have been. It had been a while since he had spoken aloud, and much of that time was blurred around the edges.
Abruptly, the image of Prussia's body--the way he had left it, lying on that cold metal grate with monsters beneath, face peaceful but throat slashed and bloody--flashed before Astrit's eyes, instantaneously blocking out his sight. The boy recoiled and stumbled backwards, throwing himself off balance. He tried to use the sword to steady himself, but it wasn't enough and as the vision cleared, he found himself sitting in a patch of dirt, gripping the sword with a bloody right hand. Blinked. No, his hand was as clean as he had been able to get it, when he had scrubbed the blood off.
The terror-grief-guilt was suffocating.
Looking up at the others present, who now towered over him by significantly more than usual, Astrit didn't really know what to say. He didn't bother to hide his state with a smile. What did it matter if they knew?
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Vasile Ionescu
Survivor
Played by Roma.
Offline.
"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players"
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Post by Romania on Jul 25, 2013 21:29:41 GMT -6
"I wasn't expecting to see anyone else out here, you don't seem hurt."
On any other day, Vasile would have jumped comically at those sudden words coming from somewhere very close behind him. He would have let out an exaggerated gasp and taken a few hasty steps backwards as he turned, eyes probably wide and hands raised somewhere around shoulder-level as if to defend against whatever disturbed him. He would have told the other nation how much he was startled – pretending, of course, just for fun, and started plotting a light-hearted revenge to have on them, possibly in the form of a yet another tale or prank. It would have been the start of a fun, relaxing morning, and possibly a new friendship – or a new adversary, in case the other’s sense of humour had been sour enough to mind tricks and games. Regardless, it would have brought a brief moment of excitement to the Romanian.
But now?
Vasile stood without a reaction for what had to be a minute, his head tilted slightly downwards towards the grave, his eyes staring at the stony surface and his gaze looking at somewhere far beyond what any of his fellow nations could see. Although he did hear the words as they left the Asian nation’s lips, they did not reach him until he managed to disperse his thoughts and tear his sights away from the sad scene of wandering ghosts unfolding some mere feet from him. It was only then that he felt that ‘click’ signaling he understood he had been talked to, which was strange in its own right; it had been such a long while when he was last talked to, that one would have expected the sudden words of someone live to be well-welcomed. He always did hate absolute silences for extended periods of time.
“Ah,” he finally mumbled as the current situation rushed back to him, and urged him to turn to face the person before they labeled him a lunatic and left him alone again. Somewhere subconscious he realized being alone definitely wasn’t good for his psyche. Especially in a place like this – could be the ghosts’ sorrow was fabricated by whatever mastermind was behind this manor, just to draw in the people more sensitive to the supernatural and make them lose their will to fight, to lure them into a trap there was no emerging from. Shaking his head slightly, Vasile dismissed that thought as quickly as it had come; no, the sorrow was all too real. If it weren’t, he wouldn’t be a pathetic sight like this.
“Hey,” the Romanian began as he turned, more out of reflex to reply when spoken to than an actual want to say anything – he didn’t even know who was talking to or what they had said. God, he must have looked so out of it. He shook his head again, this time a bit more furiously and made himself focus. Okay, so cemetery. Ghosts. Person in front of him right now, probably looking at him like he were deranged. Reply. Words. Useless, useless words he couldn’t bring peace to the ghosts with… Okay, no. Wrong train of thought again. Try again.
He blinked as if he weren’t able to see the man in front of him otherwise, and all of a sudden he could make out a face. It was as unfamiliar to him as the voice, but it did belong to someone he’d unmistakably seen before somewhere. It was completely foreign. Asian… Ah. As the realization hit him, Vasile uttered the other’s name out loud, both as an answer to his own question and to address the other before he got the idea he’d forgotten who he was, that was never polite for a country to do. “Japan.”
“Likewise,” he continued just then, his sentences still chopped into tiny teeny parts for better managing. Vasile smiled, not his usual, toothy grin that signaled he was plotting something mischievous, but a much more downplayed one with only the right side of his mouth curved upwards in a small, barely noticeable arc. “Didn’t expect to see anyone here either. Well,” he forced a grin “anyone but the ghosts, that is.”
He spoke about the departed with such lightness it surprised even him. But at the same time, it kind of helped. Made him more detached from their sorrow. Was he an awful person?
Before he could ever figure out an answer to that, a soft thumping sound poked his awareness and not long after, he heard another voice from somewhere close by. Having already been shaken back to the present by Japan, Vasile was faster to react this time, even if his movement still didn’t carry that same sense of erraticness as usual. He turned, slowly but surely, and tilted his head minimally as he took in the approaching man’s – no, rather, boy’s – form. Another person he could claim to have met and probably even talked to in the past, but who he didn’t remember well enough to immediately connect to a name or country. Judging by his young looks, he wasn’t an old acquaintance, at least. Not that you could really judge based on appearance – some of the younger looking countries had lived longer than their older-looking brethren; he knew of a few such cases. Strange how that went.
"I wasn't expecting to see anyone here either, but here there's two of you."
Vasile smiled just a tad at those words. Wasn’t it funny how the first thing all three of them said to each other was basically the same thing? It went to show that they truly were strangers to each other. They all probably longed to converse with someone who was actually alive – and, in the two other’s case, Vasile believed – they were able to see, yet none of them quiet knew what to say. This wasn’t the cushion-filled break room in a World meeting, this was a hell meant to slowly break them down mentally until they either succumbed to the dangers that lurked voluntarily, or retorted to killing – either themselves or those around them. How could anyone know how to start a conversation in a place like that? The boy looked, for all intents and purposes, like a wreck anyway. Vasile couldn’t even hazard a guess as to what he’d gone through, nor did he attempt to do so. It would only make light of whatever it was he had actually faced.
"It's funny,” Vasile attempted, not really sure where he was going with this either. He did feel somewhat more confident now however, and the liveliness of his eyes was slowly returning. He figured, then, that it wouldn’t take long for him to completely revert back to his former self either. If he could just keep talking and making these two reply and talk back in kind, he could hopefully escape from the clutches of the departed that still lingered around him, invisible to all present but him. Conversation usually had that positive an effect on him. “This place doesn’t get visitors in what must’ve been centuries and then lo, it gets three.”
It was then that an idea crossed his mind. He wasn’t sure if it was implanted there by the spirits around them or if he came up with it on his own, but he didn’t see a reason not to voice it out loud. If not anything else, it might have eased the suffering of the departed – and of the three of them, too. Sometimes hard work was the only thing able to cure pain.
“Hey, I feel like this means something,” he suggested, already knowing how to continue. Ah, it was such a good feeling knowing you actually had a plan as to what to say. He felt more himself by the minute, even if the subject at hand wasn't a favorite. “Like, maybe, we should clean the graveyard?” Before anyone could come up with a counter argument, the Romanian quickly added his reasoning. “This place doesn’t look so good and well, who knows, one of us three could eventually end up here,” Vasile spoke without thinking now, a trait most common to him. He never was blessed with all that much tact or consideration.
“So it might be a good idea to keep the place…” he struggled to find a word and ended up going with a pretty poor choice in the end “...inhabitable, by cleaning the graves.”
He looked at the both of them, grinning a tad as he closed his eyes and raised a finger. “Right?”
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OOC: Okay, I know this took forever. Really sorry about that. I should be able to be more active again now yay
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Post by Deleted on Jul 30, 2013 0:06:56 GMT -6
Japan could clearly recall past meetings with the nation before him, however, what seemed to be slipping from his memory was whether or not the man had always been this quiet. He was not sure, and yet something was a little odd. It had not been his intention, but Kiku had snuck up behind the oblivious nation and yet, there was nothing to indicate surprise. No sound, no movement, not even a twitch of muscle. It was as though he had not been heard. The problem didn't lay with him, even from this distance he could easily tell when someone wasn't all that here. In fact, Romania didn't seem to be aware of anything around him except the graves; was that it? The object of focus was not his permanent surroundings but the graves? A dangerous move.
Chocolate optics narrowed slightly, keeping watch over the still, silent nation with growing concern. There had to be something aside the graves occupying the male's attention, for he found it hard to believe someone would be so attentive towards a stone monument with a name and date. Especially when you had no connection with the inhabitant. No, he was not one to speak, and yet why was he concerning himself with an unknown person? Perhaps Vasile had been through worse than him, Japan had already begun to notice the oddities about the Manor. Like the inconsistency of time. With that, what was mere hours for him may have been days for some of the others. If that was the case then, there was the possibility of some nation's losing their minds. Was that what was happening before him?
Silent insanity, it seemed plausible.
“Ah,"
Ah? Ah, could he be coming to his senses? While he was still unable to see the man's face, Kiku was feeling the slightest sense of relief at the thought of being face to face with the nation. Still, he couldn't help but feel there was still something off about the strawberry-blonde, but he couldn't put a finger on it. What was it? It was unsettling, and yet he was unable to find the exact source for this unease. His first thought was that it was the strange manner in which a fellow nation was acting, but now, now his mind was drifting to the spirits. He'd long since lost the 'sight' he possessed as a child; however, he could still feel their presence. The graveyard was thick with the sensation of countless spirits and wandering souls, was that the source of the Romanian's discomfort? If so, his actions would make perfect sense.
“Hey---Japan."
Ignoring the long pause between the greeting and his name, the Asian gave the male a small, comforting smile. Quickly hiding the emotions in his eyes not wishing to raise any further alarm. Vasile needed a calm atmosphere, and it'd do him no good to see the concern and doubt etched across Kiku's features. Hiding his emotions had become a specialty of his throughout the centuries, whether that would work in his favor had yet to be determined. "Likewise, it's nice to run into someone. I would not wish to walk these grounds alone," he began with a short look towards the graves. Optics ghosting over with a faint light, sympathy and sorrow slowly beginning to rise somewhere within his heart. Despite the situation, even he could not ignore a graveyard that held so little care.
“Likewise, well, anyone but the ghosts that is."
His words were still choppy, not as bad as they were seconds ago, but enough to hold cause for concern. Despite the rudeness of his actions, Japan allowed his own thoughts to consume him for a moment. Now that he thought about it, he wondered if any of their own was buried here. Horrid as the train of thought may be, they had to think of themselves as ordinary humans while trapped within the grounds. As such, Death was a strong possibility, and this seemed to be the only burial grounds on the premises. ...Were some nations buried now? How many had lost their lives? This, was not the sort of thing he should be thinking about; however, he found that easier said than done. Damn. Maybe he was beginning to lose it. An unpleasant thought. Turning his attention back towards the Romanian, the way he spoke of the dead seemed so light. A contradiction to the sight of a ruined man before him.
It was in that moment the presence of another finally registered, ringing stronger than the feelings of the surrounding entities. At first, Kiku had been under the assumption it was one of the spirits with the emotions radiating about the figure, but, the undeniable presence of a nation clung to them also. Here was a person he could say he'd never met, at least not that he could recall. Judging from his appearance it was a nation much younger than the other two, or so he thought. Looks could be deceiving.
"I wasn't expecting to see anyone here either, but here there's two of you."
The voice sounded so broken and cracked, it reminded him of someone who'd just witnessed a great deal of trauma. Most war veterans had the same tone when they spoke of days long gone, what could this child have faced to hold such emotion in his eyes? He seemed more a wreck than he or Romania, and yet, he could not bring himself to ask what everyone would expect one to ask. How could he? When one looked as much a wreck as this child, you dare not ask of the horrors they faced. Kiku was certain he was recalling every moment of it as they spoke, and so there was no need to make the images grow worse and more frequent by asking a simple question. That would shatter the other's spirit. A flash of movement and the sound of something hitting the ground caught his attention, eyes on the child in an instant. Giving out a light sigh, Kiku moved over to the fallen form and offered a handkerchief he'd hidden away within his uniform. "Here, use this to clean up, and we can talk on what to do."
And yet, it was unlikely that either three of them knew how to go about conversing with each other when they were all practically strangers. Aside from Romania of whom he'd had minimal, short conversations with, Japan was at a loss of how to continue from here. How troubling. They weren't going to get far if they couldn't find something to do to break the tension the air around them held, a feat which seemed impossible. Hearing the Romanian speak, he was snapped out of his thoughts while turning back towards him. The cloth still held out towards the younger until he accepted or denied the offer. Aah, that look in his eyes, it seemed to bring a smile to the Asian. Relief spilling over him in that moment, Vasile seemed more confident and sure of himself. A good sign compared to the wretched sight he was in mere moments ago. The topic seemed to have changed as well, and while he was unsure where it may lead, anything was better than speaking of the dead. So the three of them suddenly met, in a place that definitely hadn't received many visitors but what of it? How did that amount to anything save for the fact they were trapped? Maybe he really had lost it back there. No, that was a quick judgement. A call he had no business making until hearing the male out.
“Like, maybe, we should clean the graveyard?”
Clean the graveyard? The entire graveyard? That was dangerous, risky, and also a good idea. Still, the cons outweighed the pros. And just as he opened his mouth to give his own two cents, Kiku was cut off from the continued chatter.
“This place doesn’t look so good and well, who knows, one of us three could eventually end up here. So it might be a good idea to keep the place...inhabitable, by cleaning the graves.”
One of them could eventually end up here.
Could.[/b] Meaning he wasn't the only one with that option weighing on his mind.
"I'm not particularly fond of leaving ourselves so open to anything that might be wandering around out here, it seems a little risky. But..." Ah, the infamous but had returned to his vocabulary. He had to admit while Kiku wasn't thrilled with the idea; he didn't want to leave a graveyard in such condition either. Was he going to regret this? Possibly, and while he knew there was an opportunity to turn back after they reached a decision, why couldn't he shake the unsettling feeling in his chest? "I'm not against it so long as we're careful. What about you?"
Now his attention was on the boy, a silent member, though judging from the raw emotions hidden within his eyes--that was to be expected. Also, it didn't seem like Romania was the kind of person you could say 'no' to.
------- ooc; Welcome back~
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Astrit Zupan
Survivor
Pansexual.
Single.
13.
Played by Koso.
Offline.
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Post by Kosovo on Aug 27, 2013 11:09:11 GMT -6
Insofar as he remembered how, Astrit was relieved that the two other nations seemed to be okay with his presence. Japan offered him a handkerchief, a little bit of unexpected kindness. Was that even still a thing that nations did--kindness?
Apparently so, at least a little. The boy accepted the handkerchief and got to his feet, leaving the sword on the ground for now. He dusted himself off and scrubbed at his already-clean hands one more time. They didn't feel clean yet. It seemed possible that they never would again.
Astrit snapped out of it and handed the handkerchief back to Japan, realizing as he did that he had managed to avoid noticing that Vasile was in mid-sentence.
"--clean the graveyard? This place doesn't look so good and, well, who knows, one of us three could eventually end up here."
Astrit was already shaking his head at what seemed to him to be a stunning display of naivete on the Romanian's part, but he didn't speak yet. Though he had trouble with a part of Vasile's rationale, he thought the idea it took him to was a good one.
"So it might be a good idea to keep the place... inhabitable, by cleaning the graves."
Then Japan put in a word of caution. "It seems a little risky," he said.
The sound that ripped from Astrit's throat was too harsh and too slow to be called a laugh. He was aware that Japan was looking at him already, having apparently asked his opinion. "You're assuming it matters whether we're out in the open or not," he observed bitterly. "Both of you. You're assuming there's decency here." The boy shook his head. "What makes you think cover would make us any safer? What makes you think anyone would bother to give us a decent burial if we needed one? What makes you think anyone could?" Again, he shook his head, but this time he was trying to clear it. Under normal circumstances, he might have been embarrassed to produce such an outburst, but right now it didn't really seem like a big deal. What did it matter if he looked like a fool, when he had killed, when there were monsters loose that could do horrible things and compel you to do such things as well?
No, he had to get a little bit of control. The boy bent over a nearby grave and began to brush the dirt and moss off of the headstone. "Yes, let's clean this place up," he croaked. His quiet voice sounded torn worse than before, and he had no idea how empty and haunted his eyes looked.
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