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Post by The First Inhabitant on Aug 23, 2013 23:10:26 GMT -6
It was ever so easy to manipulate these bent and broken Nations to their whims, all it took was a bit of their master’s vast power and they moved how them like pieces on a chessboard. Now for instance was a good example. For their new surprise for them, the Inhabitants needed them to sleep before everything could get set up, so they made it so. They themselves went and knocked out Romania and Norway for this little game and brought them to the room. It was a plain, decent sized room that was lined with mirrors with only two chairs that faced away from each other and one lone wall sconce that illuminated only partially illuminated the room. Shadows lined the corners, leaving the nations to wonder just what could be hiding in the room with them, potentially watching everything that took place. Looking at the unconscious nations that were loosely bound to the chairs with their hands tied behind their back, the two skeletal inhabitants, brothers by life and brothers in death, looked at each other and grinned. With a snap of their fingers, an envelope appeared before each of the brothers. Breathing a mist of cold air over the paper, the words appeared. Greetings, Romania/Norway, As you may have noticed, you are trapped in a room with another vermin just like you. For what purpose, you ask? Yes, it’s my pleasure to inform you that you have been lucky enough to be chosen for a very, very special game, along with your little friend over there.
The door to the room is locked, and no amount of force can pry it open. But be not alarmed; there is a key, a key to your salvation. I will even give you a hint, as I believe an insect like you would never figure it out on your own. Norway/Romania, that other vermin in the room,they know where the key is. All you have to do is ask them. Simple enough for even you to accomplish.
Or is it?
You would do well not to communicate about this letter to them; should you attempt to, you would be faced with an unfortunate, immediate death. And that would bore us immensely.
Oh, and please do try to hurry. We would not want either of you to face the consequences of dilly-dallying.
Good luck, worm The Inhabitants The paper folding and on the outside, readable to only the intended Nation, For Your Eyes Only Romania/Norway appeared in neat cursive print. Tucking the letters into each of the Nations clothes, they grinned at each other again. The nations would find them and then the game would commence. Snapping one more time, unearthly music filled the room. ”Think they’ll like our little song Second? “Indeed First, creates the perfect atmosphere.”Vanishing from sight, the brothers muttered a single word simultaneously before they vanished from the room. "Awaken"
((In case it was not clear, both Romania and Norway are loosely bound and the letters in their clothing is addressed to them only. The posting order will be Romania then Norway. Responses must be posted within two weeks of the last post or it will be considered a refusal to participate and consequences await. ))
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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 Sept 27, 2013 19:55:51 GMT -6
"Awaken."
By the time that cold whisper of a word reached the unconscious Romanian's ears it had become nothing but an intangible lull, a silent echo from somewhere too far away for Vasile's impaired mind to comprehend. It made him stir, groan, and adjust his awkward sleeping position as much as his binds abled him to, yet it wasn't quite enough to awaken him from his unnaturally deep slumber. No, it wasn't until the eerie, unyielding music flowed into his ears, penetrated whatever dreams he'd seen and filled his entire mind with dread, that Vasile's consciousness returned enough for him to be able to blink open his eyes and drowsily raise his head, all his previous dreams forgotten and left behind in the darkness he stirred from.
At first, the Romanian's red eyes saw nothing.
He blinked once and he blinked twice, but nothing changed. The room was only barely lit, and although he had a reputation of being able to see well in the dark, good vision did nothing if your mind was too hazy to process the information it received. As such, for a few passing minutes all Vasile could do was blink furiously in an attempt to clear whatever veil clouded his eyes - and listen. Just stay still and listen, forced to take in the music that surrounded him and whispered him promises of ill fate awaiting him should he fail to wake.
He had to get up. Had to clear his mind.
The man opened his mouth slightly, drawing in a shaky breath before he pressed his left fang against the delicate skin of his lips and bit down until he felt a painful sting, one powerful enough to completely pull him back to his senses. And as Vasile's mind finally cleared enough for him to be able to take in his surroundings, the Romanian was instantly greeted with a throbbing pain in his temples and a feeling of panic welling up inside his chest. Red eyes fully open and alert now, he turned his head rapidly to look around - and everywhere he looked, wide, red eyes stared back at him, bewildered and just as alert as his were.
Vasile felt his stomach sink, only to realize a split second later that those eyes would prove no threat to him.
They were his, after all.
Huh...
He blinked, and a dozen reflections followed.
Mirrors? The Romanian grunted. Where the heck was he? He didn't remember there being any of those where he was previously. Wherever... that was. His memory was a bit fuzzy.
Shaking his head, Vasile focused into trying to remember what had happened. The last he could recall, he'd been walking around the cemetery again, and now... he was somewhere indoors again. In the Manor, most likely; hoping for anything else would be foolish at this point. So how had he ended back in here? That question lingered in his mind only for a second before a dry, irritated laugh escaped the man's throat. It wasn't a question he didn't already know the answer to. The fact that he'd been knocked out yet not dead could only mean one thing; someone wanted to play, and he was to be the pawn tossed around the chessboard. Again.
He spent only a second more on that thought, and instantly his irritation turned into concern, a cold feeling somewhere around his chest, frigid enough to freeze his breathing for a few moments. If this was truly another one of the monsters' games, did... did that mean that he'd... that he'd need to kill again, as well?
The memories of his last game flashed into his mind, fast, vivid and swirling. They threatened to overflow him, to occupy his mind and take away his attention from his situation here and now. That was dangerous, more so than he could even imagine. Exposing yourself to the enemy right from the start was hardly the ideal course of action. So, Vasile quickly nudged himself to take a step forward as if to break free from the chains of memories that bound him - only to fall flat on his face with a clatter due to the real, physical bounds that tied him - even if loosely - onto the chair he'd been sitting on.
Oww.
Well, that certainly knocked out whatever recollection he was about to have. Confused and mumbling silent curses in his native tongue, Vasile struggled to get up from underneath whatever had been weighing on his back. There was rope around his wrists, but either someone had done a really poor tying job, or the fall he'd taken had been harder than he thought, because breaking free from the knots was hardly a taunting task. But then, he'd done a lot of escaping from shackles when he was a kid, anyway. Living with Turkey did that to you.
Trying not to let his face grow sour at the memory, Vasile finally managed to stand up. His legs wobbled a tad, but he quickly regained both his balance and his darker thoughts as he noticed something on the floor - something that was addressed to him in fancy, cursive print. A letter. One he did not particularly care to open, as it was rather obvious it was from whoever had trapped him inside here; the puppet masters behind this little show wouldn't be so careless as to let him have a letter that would actually help him. It had to be something bad.
Yet, did he have a choice but to bend down and pick it up?
Disgusted, red eyes narrowed into hateful slits, Vasile brought the letter to his front, scornfully flipping it so he could read the contents. Complying with the sadistic creatures behind this made him feel sick to his stomach, but he pushed himself to read every word regardless. He did have to admit that he was curious. Such was human nature, after all.
As you may have noticed, you are trapped in a room...
I may have noticed, yes, Vasile thought dryly, one hand in his pocket now. Well, to be honest, he hadn't exactly examined the room enough to be able to tell he was trapped yet, but that was kind of a given. Psychological games required a controlled environment, after all, and the mirrors were doubtfully there just for show. No, they were there to menace him and drive him mad, both which would only be possible should he spend a considerable amount of time in the room; nobody jumped at their reflection when they merely glanced into a mirror in the morning after a shower, but trap them and force them to watch their own face twist in fear and anguish for long enough, and you will find no man that would not eventually break. Too bad he wasn't a real vampire; he would have no reflection to look at. Wouldn't that be funny? He'd ruin the bastards' plan - or at least part of it, just like that. Just imagining their skeletal faces deranged from surprise was enough to bring a small smile to the Romanian's lips.
..with another vermin just like you.
Vasile had barely continued, when his reading came to an abrupt stop again, and his smile vanished. Another... vermin? Vasile spun around in a flash, black cape flapping slightly as he backed away from the center of the room and closer to the walls. Of course. Of course there was someone else in the room; this wouldn't be much of a game if he was the only pawn they could use, now would it? He had realized that from the beginning, known all along that it took two to tango with death, and yet he had let his guard down and even made jokes like a fool. That could have cost him his life.
If... the other nation hadn't been tied to a chair. Oh. Well, that made him feel a bit better.
Relaxing just slightly, Vasile tilted his head, taking in the other's appearance. Now that imminent danger was over, he wanted to know who his opponent for today's game was, and surely enough it didn't take long for him to place a name to the man's face and clothes, especially since they'd just ran into each other not all that long ago.
"Norway?" Vasile mumbled, more ponderous than anything else. Why him? Did the freaks behind this want a magic battle, or did they just pair people up at random? Apart from the encounter a while ago, magic and some international relations, the two weren't that familiar with each other. The Inhabitants' matchup choices were... strange, to say the least, and it was something he had found curious during the last match as well. Why match up people at random, when pitting them against friends and loved ones would be so much more effective in reaping out the reactions the puppeteers so wished for? Not that he complained. He didn't know what to do if he were ever faced with Moldova and told to kill. It wasn't a scenario he wanted to think about and so, now that the threat of getting killed from behind was gone, Vasile's focus shifted back to the letter and its contents. And the more he read, the more he growled under his breath.
Yes, it’s my pleasure to inform you that you have been lucky enough to be chosen for a very, very special game, along with your little friend over there.
Just as he’d thought, this was a yet another game for the mastermind behind the Manor. It sickened him, and the cursive letters spelling ‘very special’ both annoyed and unnerved him to no end - he could almost see the mocking smirk dancing on the Inhabitants’ bony faces as they jotted down those words, could see the cold air they exhaled as they reveled in the thought of what was to come. Indeed, anything they considered ‘special’ couldn’t bode well for him and Norway.
The door to the room is locked, and no amount of force can pry it open.
Oh? So there was at least a door, then? Instinctively, Vasile tore his eyes from the paper and looked around the room, this time properly. Not that… there was anything particularly interesting there for him to see; just mirrors upon mirrors decorating the walls. He couldn’t even find the source of the music. Infuriating, because the music was slowly driving him up the wall, and he would have very much wanted to smash its source into pieces. Regardless, if there was a door in the room like the letter said, it was probably sitting somewhere in the shadows at the other end of the room, because he couldn’t find it at first glance. But at least there was a door, right? There was hope, a way out in their reach.
Which basically just made the whole game crueler, as he doubted that salvation like that was something they’d be given easy access to.
But be not alarmed; there is a key, a key to your salvation. I will even give you a hint, as I believe an insect like you would never figure it out on your own.
By now, Vasile’d grown able to just ignore the condescending tone of the letter and focus solely on its contents. He wanted to get to the end already. Wanted to get the key, no matter what it took, and be out of this dusty old room and far away from the creepy music.
Norway, that other vermin in the room, they know where the key is. All you have to do is ask them. Simple enough for even you to accomplish.
What?
Confused to the point even his usual grin couldn’t hide it anymore, Vasile gave a questioning look to the still unconscious Norwegian. He knew where the key was? That made no sense. Why would he know? Had the Inhabitants told him? Why would they have? If Lukas knew, wouldn’t he just let them out the second he awoke? No, there had to be something else… had they threatened him not to share the information about the key unless he wanted to lose his life? What did they hope to accomplish with that? Did they want him to take it by force?
All the gears in the Romanian’s head were grinding simultaneously as he pressed a finger to his chin and pondered. Norway knowing but being unable to tell was the most logical explanation, and probably the one that the skeletons could derive the most pleasure from. The next sentence, the simple line of "or is it?" seemed to confirm this. Norway knew but couldn’t tell, and the Inhabitants wanted him to squeeze the information out of him even if by force. It made sense. The two would be forced to fight eventually, and the masterminds would get the blood they so yearned for.
Except, something didn’t quite add up. The motive they tried to impose on him was too weak still. He would not kill a fellow nation over information, not when they could find out a way out together. There was no danger to his life until he’d grow dehydrated - which meant there was plenty of time for the two of them to come up with a plan to escape. It wasn’t kill or be killed. It made no sense.
Seeking for an answer, Vasile went back to the letter to read it through in its entirety. Although the idea behind not being allowed to show the letter to Norway did make Vasile ponder why was it so important to hide it, he paid far more attention to the sentence that followed - decision he didn't yet know he might come to regret later.
… please do try to hurry. We would not want either of you to face the consequences of dilly-dallying.
Ah. There it was. The initiative, the motive; a time limit.
The room had no clocks or timers, so it was impossible to tell how long the time limit was, and in a way, that was more effective. They could die any minute if they didn’t hurry. Paranoia and panic would set in at some point. They would stop thinking rationally. Vasile knew all this, yet he doubted mere knowledge alone was enough to save him from suffering that exact fate. He was human, after all. He valued his life. But there was no time for introspection right now; he’d need to wake the other nation up and inquire about the key.
So, without wasting a second more, Vasile pushed the letter inside his jacket, took a step towards the Nordic nation, only to stop dead in his tracks before he could take another. Wait. Who was to say it was safe? He'd seen Norway fight before; he knew what his Troll was capable of. It wouldn't be an uneven fight like the last time, when his opponent was both fearful and ill-equipped to fight someone with magic on their side. If Norway decided not to co-operate, if for any reason he decided to attack, the fight would be difficult and even. Could he really afford that? He could still remember the short moment of desperation and panic when he thought he'd be shot by his previous opponent. It had been a moment that truly reminded him how much he wanted to live. He wanted it enough to throw away all trust in his fellow nations. Enough to throw away anything else.
Vasile closed his eyes. He'd go wake and untie Norway, but he would not do it without his wolf companion at his side, ready to act on his command if he saw it necessary to. So he began his quiet chant, having grown faster in his summoning rite through its multiple uses lately. How horrible.
The large wolf materialized, but Vasile did not turn to look at it or pet its soft fur as he usually did. He loved his friend, but he couldn't bear the sight of him right now. All it did was remind him of the previous game, of the fight, of the kill - and it made him nauseous, truly so. As such, he left the summoned wolf to sit some distance away from him as he walked up to Lukas, his steps steady and eyes calm. He had someone to back him up now. If Norway tried to attack, he'd have backup. Would it be enough? He didn't know. But it had to be. He had nothing else. No weapons.
The Romanian bent down to free Lukas's arms, before he grabbed his shoulder to shake it back and forth a few times. His movements were slow and careful, and his voice soft as to not startle the other. He knew that he'd definitely jump if someone touched him like that after being knocked out, after all.
"Hey, Norway," he whispered, his voice urgent yet cheerful as usual he shook the other some more. "Wakey-wakey, I need you to let me out of this room. The music's giving me the creeps."
Wouldn't it be amazing if Norway just woke up, handed him the key and everything would be over with just that? Too bad the possibility of that was pretty much zero.
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