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Post by The First Inhabitant on Aug 23, 2013 23:15:33 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 Austria and New Zealand 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, Austria/New Zealand,
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. New Zealand/Austria, 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 Austria/New Zealand 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 Austria and New Zealand are loosely bound and the letters in their clothing is addressed to them only. The posting order will be Austria then New Zealand. 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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Post by Deleted on Aug 24, 2013 11:43:51 GMT -6
"Awaken" Roderich came to and immediately wished he hadn't bothered to. Whatever had happened to him before, it filled his brain with a pulsating pain, making his squinting eyes wince and his head ache. It took him only a moment to realize, despite the pain, that he didn't know where he was or whatever this place was. The room he was in was dimly lit, a lone sconce only illuminating the mirrors that lined the walls. Roderich tried to focus his gaze ahead, finding his own darkened face staring back at him. He was bound. Austria wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed that before. Perhaps because the pain in his head, now slowly ebbing away, had been too distracting for him to notice that his hands were bound behind the chair he was sitting in? Whatever the reason, the Alpine nation immediately started trying to wriggle his hands free. The ropes weren't tied tightly at all, but they still managed to rub against his wrists and hands uncomfortably as moved them. After a minute of this struggle, Roderich’s right hand slipped free of its bondage and Roderich quickly undid the rest of the ropes.He flexed his wrists and stood up, stretching after presumably being tied up so long. “Now that I’m free of any restraints, let’s see if I may find my way out of here.” thought Roderich to himself. He thought back and found no recollection of how he got into such a situation anyway, just a memory of pain across his head and something filling his nostrils. No wonder his head had been throbbing when he had first come to. He smoothed his rumpled clothes out of habit, calming his inner instinct to appear presentable, even in such a gloomy and dark room such as this one. But has his hands passed over the fabric of his hunting outfit, he felt something over his left chest pocket. Something square and firm. Roderich pulled the letter out of his pocket, examining it. Had the Manor’s servants put it there? Most likely. “For Your Eyes Only Austria” The print on the outside was in a neat, old-fashioned cursive much like the cursive Roderich used to this very day. The pangs of homesickness for home and his office (how long ago had he held a pen and wrote something?) struck him as he opened the letter addressed to him and read. Roderich sighed as he finished the letter. He was definitely not in the mood for the Manor’s games and this was definitely one of them. He was sure the Manor didn't care for his opinion as well, but it was his mind, he could complain in it all he wanted. Roderich crumpled the letter in frustration and stuffed it into his pocket. It was then that he finally turned to look at the other figure in the room, one he couldn't exactly see because of the lack of light. He supposed it was New Zealand, the country mentioned in the letter. And he supposed that apparently this small nation, one he hadn't ever remembered talking to, had the key to get out of here. Not.Roderich hadn't been born yesterday, this year, or this century. After one thousand years he was quite aware when someone was trying to play him easily. It was very likely that the boy had gotten the same letter as he had and a directive to ask whether he had the key. It was a thinly veiled attempt to pit them against each other. Unfortunately for the Manor, Roderich wasn't fond of being manipulated. He used to be a master of manipulating others, yes, shaping his empire brick by brick and conquered nation by nation, but he had always detested when it came time for him to be led. And he had no desire to harm such a young nation, even though Roderich had scarcely been “born” before he needed to fight. That had been a different time. But he did grimace over the idea that he couldn't communicate about the letter to the boy. If they had used another word, like show, or discuss, perhaps he could have found a way to get around that order, but communicate was very much a foolproof word in this regard. He approached the other figure and the chair, breaking the tension only enhanced by the light music playing from somewhere. He might as well start simple with the other nation, trying to get him to see that fighting over the location of the key was detrimental to their search for a way out. “Guten Tag. I don’t know where the key is. Do you know?”
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Post by Deleted on Aug 25, 2013 3:45:15 GMT -6
He had never been much of a morning person. There was always a deep haze that drifted over his mind and gently tried to coax him back to sleep. It was just like the sirens he had read about in various books, mystical voices pulling sailors off their paths and down into the watery depths. Of course science in all it's troublesome meddling had come up with a better name for it, but he liked the siren explanation better. Either way the lack of it as he woke struck him as odd, as if he was suddenly unable to hear, or to speak. Maybe he was still asleep and it was all simply a horribly vivid dream.
Emerald eyes snapped open, adjusting quickly to the dim surroundings before starting to roam about. He stared off to his right, focusing on his reflection in one of the many mirrors that lined the walls. A filthy mousy haired boy stared blankly back, stained blouse torn at the shoulder and his feet bare. A small smile formed on his lips and with a chuckle he glanced down at them, giving a merry little wiggle of his toes as he attempted to sit up. The Kiwi's bottom had hardly left the seat before his wrists were pulled taunt behind his back, the bindings that wrapped him biting painfully into his skin.
"Oh dear..."
There was no patience to try again, instead he rocked back and forth in the chair, waiting until he could press the balls of his feet firmly to shove back. The chair fell back with a crash, one of the back legs splintering as his weight shoved it to the ground. His arms lay pinned between the back of the chair and the floor, and he awkwardly tried to roll over backwards to get them in front of him. His head was in the way, and the threat of a snapped neck put a quick stop to his efforts. Eh, he had thought that it would be faster if he didn't just tug at the bindings until his wrists were raw, but this was simply worse than before.
Wearily he looked to the mirror as footsteps approached him, catching sight of a familiar cowlick. His lips parted, the boy ready to snap out with a sarcastic comment to his elder brother. Instead he exhaled slowly, the figure walking towards him looking hardly anything like him on the second glance. It was simply a trick of the light.
“Guten Tag. I don’t know where the key is. Do you know?”
The voice that flowed from the other's throat was rich and thick, falling off his charts of voices he recognized. It was European though, definitely not Asian or African. Mean as it was he thought they both sounded a little like something having a seizure with all the highs and lows in the tone.
"Key? What does it open?"
He started to look around, searching for something that a key would unlock. A paper lay scattered a couple of meters away addressed to him but he didn't really pay much attention to it.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 25, 2013 13:54:27 GMT -6
As he came closer to the younger nation while speaking he noticed that the boy was on the floor, his chair broken and his arms still pinned down. There was a bit of a resigned look on his face as well. Roderich’s eyebrow rose in confusion over the other’s state. Perhaps the younger nation had never been tied down and dealt with how to get of bonds. Surely New Zealand wasn't that young that he’d never had the need to learn how to get out of such situations? He quickened his pace towards that part of the other room. "Key? What does it open?"That voice made him pause for a moment. Though he’d always assumed that New Zealand was male, (like every other small nation since kleinen Italien turned out to be a boy, not the mischievous little girl he’d always thought she was.) that voice was quite different. In the back of his mind Roderich wondered what the vocal range was. The other thing that made him paused him was that it confirmed that the Manor was “ screwing around” with them. If he had to read that letter to know there might a key and that Neuseeland had it while the younger nation didn't even know there was an exit, there was obviously something wrong going on. And sure enough, orchid eyes under spectacles fell up on a white envelope a few meters away from Neuseeland. A thought, a not very good one, struck his mind immediately. It wasn't that he didn't trust Neuseeland, it was just that he didn't trust the Oceanic nation to trust him. The letters were obviously a way to make them distrust one another. If he could remove the object that would cause distrust then perhaps the boy wouldn't make this become a hassle. And the Inhabitants hadn't even thought to include anything in their letters about the idea that they could stop the other from reading the letter addressed them to them. But there was something immoral with the thought and the idea in general. Wouldn't it be a greater show of trust for New Zealand have his letter and work out for himself what he should do? Roderich made his mind up and approached the boy from a different side than he originally intended, so that his body faced back to the envelope and hid from the view of the other nation. He crouched down beside the boy, examining the chair, while the other was looking around. It seemed that the younger one had tried to free himself by breaking the chair. Unfortunately, despite the splintered wood, that didn’t seem like that had worked. “The bonds are loose enough that if you pull hard enough you’ll slip a hand and undo the rest of the knots.” He said, still squatting near as if to give the appearance that he’d help in a second. To distract the other nation he kept speaking. “There is a door to the room that will let us out of here. I’m not sure where the key is. I presume the Inhabitants, who stuck us here, want us to find it.” Long pianist fingers nudged the envelope closer behind his back. However his eyes stared wherever, looking for the door as well. “It’s too hard to see anything in here, however.” Roderich silently managed to stow the letter into the back pocket of his outfit, under the long jacket he was wearing, all while keeping his face blank as if nothing was going on. He inched closer to the chair, using his strength to pull it up and plop it against one of the walls. “You do know how to unbind yourself, ja? Do so while I’ll go look for the door und, bitte, don’t make have to pick you up again.” Roderich ended that with a scold and stood up to look for the door in this gloom. Within a minute he noticed a part of the wall hidden in the dark that wasn't reflecting anything, so he walked closer to it, seeing a doorknob. The knob refused to turn beyond slightly to the right or left and pulling it had no effect. “Here it is. Locked of course.”
I'm so sorry my muse is a gigantic douchebag who's stealing letters not for meant for him.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 7, 2013 22:21:59 GMT -6
He wriggled a little as the man walked out to the corner of his vision, the boy having to strain his neck to keep him in his sights. It wasn't particularly kind to take advantage of someone's unfortunate unfortunate situation. Especially when there was little they could do otherwise to get out of it. But, it wasn't as though he really knew the other person all that well, so it could be forgiven, slightly.
“The bonds are loose enough that if you pull hard enough you’ll slip a hand and undo the rest of the knots.”
He grunted, looking displeased at the elder nation's lack of assistance, besides helping his chair upright. It would have been nice of him to undo the ropes, he most certainly would have. He bit back a smartass comment and started to tug carefully at the ropes, having really wanted to chafe his wrists while struggling to get free. Why else would he take a page out of good old 007's book and just break the chair! Oz would be proud of his resourcefulness, England too probably, anyone really if he managed it. He obviously wouldn't tell of it but maybe the other Nation would have sang his praises, too late anyhow. It was all in the past.
With a soft grunt he tugged his hand out of the hoard of ropes and started to work the rest of them off, it only taking a few more seconds after that. As expected his wrists were slightly raw, and he shot a glare to the other nation in a silent display of disapproval, he would have helped him out of the ropes if it was the other way around. But now...there were far more important matters at hand and he had to let go his momentary annoyance.
"So...we are looking for a key right?" the boy asked softly as he rubbed his wrists, casting an eye about the room and tilting the chair against the wall. "And it's hidden here right? I mean..." he cast an eye over to the door and jumped on one of the chair legs to break it off with a loud satisfying crack. "Can you tell if it locks from inside the room or outside?" Idly he shifted his weight from one leg to another as he stood in place, casting an eye around the room once again. There were no visible places that one might obviously hide a key, but he had read the first Harry Potter book enough times to know to check the mirrors. In simpler terms, smash them.
"Well then...we had better get to work at getting out huh..."
Biting the inside of his cheek he turned in place until he faced the closest mirror and striking out at it with the chair leg as he let out a loud yell. The beautiful sound of cracking glass was music to his ears as the spider cracks hurriedly crept their way up the smooth surface and suddenly shattered, razor sharp shards of glass raining down around the Kiwi. "One down...a few more to go, better start cracking prissy."
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Post by Deleted on Sept 28, 2013 17:08:36 GMT -6
As Roderich turned back to face the younger nation he had left propped up against the wall, he could see the other glaring at him. Roderich almost bit back a laugh at this behavior. Had he expected Roderich to nanny him and let him out? Young ones. It really was perplexing why he had even tried that particular way to free himself in the first place. The amount of physical strength required for that was definitely not in either of the position, or so Roderich believed. A few grunts came from the island nation. Roderich grimaced as he waited for him to get up while his mind thought through the situation at hand.
He had taken the letter, removed it from the equation. This would definitely remove any chance of both them fighting against each other as the letter pathetically tried to do. But would it be that simple to do? Neither of them had a key but the Inhabitants and the Manor expected some form of entertainment. Simply knowing the rules of the game and the outcome did not mean that they didn’t have to play the game. Roderich cast the boy, now out of the chair and rubbing his wrists, a searching glance. Would he if he had to?
Roderich had no desire to harm the other. But desire and duty were two different lines and quite often they were parallel to each other. And Austria knew all about doing things because he had to, not because he wanted to. That was simply the life of a nation. Austria desired to prolong his own life as much as possible in this hellish manor and sometimes the cost of surviving came with the survival of others’. A sinking feeling made it into his stomach, like heavy anchor tied to his soul. Roderich wondered if his turbulent thoughts, and the horror he felt at them, showed on his face. Probably not with his penchant to look aloof. But inside he was reeling at quickly he was to come to the conclusion that yes, if it needs to happen, he would kill New Zealand in this ‘game’.
“Surely the manor is making me go mad.” thought Austria, while listening to the other nation ask a question.
“Ja, a key.” He answered the other brusquely, observing the other’s actions. The shorter brunette broke a chair leg off.
"Well then...we had better get to work at getting out huh..."
Roderich raised a well-formed eyebrow, suddenly getting the gist of what the other nation may be planning. Not that he truly believed it would work but at least it would provide some distraction from this empty desolate room and what exactly would one have to do in order to leave it.
The sound of glass shattering and falling to the floor in silvery pieces managed to plug out the quiet sound of whatever the inhabitants had been playing (Roderich had ignored it so far), and filled the dark room with the sound of destruction. New Zealand’s yell broke through as well.
"One down...a few more to go, better start cracking prissy."
Roderich sighed and shook his head.
“This will probably achieve nothing.”
But he took out his rifle and positioned it so the butt was facing forward. Gritting his teeth, the Alpine nation ran forward with the rifle extended. The wooden rifle collided with the mirror, causing a web of cracks to spiral through the reflective surface. Roderich stared at his reflection, looking into familiar orchid eyes filled with exhaustion, worry, and a tiny hint of anger. It took a second for all the cracks to start falling and with them, the reflected version of Roderich. Roderich stepped on the pieces with his boots, hearing a satisfying crunch.
He set to work on breaking more mirrors, barely sparing time to look at all the Austrias in the mirrors, glaring back at him with rifles raised. They all seemed to question why he was partaking in this meaningless destruction. Why would he bother when the Inhabitants wanted blood, regardless if it came from them fighting it out or not? Every mirror that crashed to the ground made him angrier, as if cracking the mirrors hurt the manor and himself. Roderich wanted to know when had the Manor made him lose his morality in that he was contemplating killing a nation who had done him no harm. He hadn’t thought like this in decades, decades which came after his own world crashed like the mirrors he was breaking.
After the sixth mirror he broke fell he stepped back to look at New Zealand and coughed loudly to gain the other’s attention.
“This destruction, while rather therapeutic,” lied Roderich because it was anything but, “won’t solve our problems, Neuseeland. Perhaps we should stop and think of a more effective approach?”
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Post by The First Inhabitant on Oct 21, 2013 19:01:13 GMT -6
The light was the same as it always was, dim, not allowing the corners of the room to be seen, but enough to let the mirrors show their reflections. The temperature was a constant temperature, but it started increasing. Out of the corner of the mirror closest to the nations, fire spread across it, slowly forming words. "Not like the rules do we? Let us spell it out. You have the key at your fingertips. War was your past time, time to bring out that hatred again and fight to survive, otherwise...." And the text trailed off. A small sound was heard and the walls started moving, a loud grinding noise sounded and echoed through the room, stopping after the walls had moved about a foot inward.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 21, 2013 23:45:12 GMT -6
Westley swung the broken chair leg again, a satisfying crack reverberating up his arm and releasing all the twisted tension inside. A crater formed at the point of contact, spidery lines scrambling madly away in all sorts of furious directions. It all held for a moment, almost shivering in anticipation before crumbling away and leaving nothing but an empty frame. Therapeutic was an understatement, all the stress from however long they had been in the blasted mansion had flowed out through his fingertips, he felt rejuvenated and ready to fight another day!
The boy bounced on the tips of his toes for a moment, soft curls following along his new found momentum and genuine cheer. This wasn't so bad, he would survive this just like he survived everything else, maybe he would even find his shoes! Though his toes were most certainly pleased with their freedom, he wiggled them happily and paused, a sharp pain from the large toe on his left foot.
With a large frown he crouched and pulled it up for himself to see, a jagged shard of glass lodged up in the soft pad with little drops of blood beading up around the plugged gash. No wonder dear old Mummy Pom had been so insistent on him always wearing shoes as a child, the Brit would never know that he was right this time. He would make sure of it, a potential 'I told you so' was horrifying.
Hearing a cough he glanced up and over his shoulder at the older nation that he had forgotten in his new bit of fun, dropping over onto his back to look at him without craning his neck while he prodded the impaled toe. "I don't see any issue with it unless you have a better idea...can you pull this out? It's a little awkward for me to and I can't see it all well...." He pulled his hips up off the floor and showed off the wounded toe to the elder, honestly he knew not very much about the other nation but he could at least be a little helpful. He would do the same if their roles were reversed after all.
He lay back and shut his eyes, a loud screeching from the walls pulling his attention away from the slight throb in his toe. Nails on a chalkboard if he had ever heard it before, the loud screaming of stone forced to crawl along stone. "Oh dear...that doesn't sound very good at all. Which nation are you anyways, I had forgotten and I don't think that you prefer being called prissy...It's Zea not Sea by the way. Sealand is the little anklebiter, I am the big...uh..." He tapped his chin in thought, not commenting on the walls as of yet. It was better to talk idly while he made sense of it all in his head anyways. "I am the..." Heavens, he couldn't think of anything besides sheep, and that was impressive in it's own right but what else set him apart from the rest of the Commonwealth?
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2014 2:12:07 GMT -6
Nothing followed his words except another smash of glass. Soon enough, Roderich thought, they'd run out of mirrors and then what would happen. A small voice in the back of his head told him exactly what would happen. What Roderich did not want to consider, though somewhere he felt that it was inevitable. The problem with playing games with the manor is that eventually that it forced you into doing exactly what it wished. It was like playing a game with dice rigged by the opponent and knowing that, only in this case barely any of the rules were known to Roderich.
Austria took a deep breath as he thought through everything once more, putting aside his moral for second to ponder. The objective of the game was to get the key out of here. The masters of the game wanted to pit the players against one another. He was lucky enough he had caught the boy before he had a chance to read his letter, his confusion over what the key even opened told Roderich that the boy had no hand in this situation. And then the letter had been easily taken. As far Roderich could tell he was extremely lucky that he had removed that variable from the game. He had the upper hand there.
Roderich ignored another sound of a mirror breaking, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his gloved hand. Now was the time to figure out his next move. Some of the odds were definitely in the Roderich’s favor, others were not. His weapon was not close-ranged, meaning trust not exactly helping him when he had a rifle. It would take approximately a minute for Roderich to take out his rifle and load it with his bullets. Wait, where were his bullets?
A trickle of fear ran through Roderich. Surely they hadn’t disarmed him, ja? Wait, nein, there they were, in his pocket, danke Gott. As he felt the pocket he noticed the boy sitting on the floor, looking at his leg for some reason. When had he stopped hitting things?
One minute was too long, he’d surely be noticed by New Zealand if he did so. Even if the boy was young and probably inexperienced, Roderich wouldn’t be so foolish to underestimate the boy. His most crushing defeats had come from underestimating enemies. If there was a distraction a way to make sure that the boy was unable to charge at him, perhaps then Roderich could aim and Gott-willing get him in one shot.
“Listen to yourself,” thought Roderich. “Get him in one shot? A mere child by our standards, innocent and not meaning any harm to you yet? How could you think of ending a life so callously, especially after all that happened? Don’t you remember the corpses that littered your streets at the war’s end? Don’t you remember promising to yourself that the games of war you used to play are no longer your concern? Didn’t we become a better person? Gott im Himmel, you don’t even know the name of the Jungen?”
"I don't see any issue with it unless you have a better idea...can you pull this out? It's a little awkward for me to and I can't see it all well...."
Roderich looked back at the boy to finally see what the other was looking at; a bleeding toe. Ah, of course, the nation was barefoot. Roderich suppressed the urge to berate the other nation for being foolish, instead adding this to the game he had concocted in his head while nodding. So now the boy was wounded and asking for help, leaving himself open, but with no way to get out the rifle out so fast and quick this was useless unl-…
A loud, screeching noise broke Roderich once more out of his thoughts as he realized the room was shrinking on itself. And the closest whole mirror was burning with…fire? Words made of flame quickly spread throughout the reflective surface, brighter than almost anything in the room.
"Not like the rules do we? Let us spell it out. You have the key at your fingertips. War was your past time, time to bring out that hatred again and fight to survive, otherwise...."
As soon as the noise completely stopped, Roderich took in those words for a second. His eyes closed for an instant, before opening with a hardness that hadn’t been seen in decades. The boy behind him was babbling something ("Oh dear...that doesn't sound very good at all. Which nation are you anyways, I had forgotten and I don't think that you prefer being called prissy...It's Zea not Sea by the way. Sealand is the little anklebiter, I am the big...uh...") but Roderich ignored him for this moment, instead charging angrily at the mirror with the burning words and smashing it with his fist, skillfully managing to catch a large jagged piece of glass in his fist as he did so and using his fingers push it into the edge of his sleeve.
As if nothing happened, Roderich turned to the boy with a softer look on his face.
“Sorry, I am just…annoyed with this place. Now let me see that wound of yours.” He crouched down beside the boy, who was in a very odd position, with his legs up and above him, perfect for inspection. Roderich looked at the bleeding toe with his left hand, prodding the glass shard while position himself sideways. As if to steady the boy, he placed his right hand on the boy’s stomach, under the chest and where the kidney should be, and pulled the glass shard out of the toe. Not a moment later, plunged the large jagged piece into the flesh underneath his right hand, and jumped back, not wishing to lose a moment.
Reaching for his gun, he looked down at his work and said, “My name is Austria.”
The manor had chosen for him and now all Roderich could do was play the game.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2014 23:56:03 GMT -6
Time slowed to a trickle as the jagged piece of grass bit into the tender flesh of his abdomen, the gentleness that had nestled in his bright green eyes fading away in less than a moment to cold killing intent. It had been his mistake to give that much trust to someone he had not known, and there was nothing that could be said other than he had been foolish. The Germanic nation had been lucky, he would make sure to clean up from it well. Slender fingers wrapped around the shard that the other had stabbed into him, not even the slightest hesitation as he sprung to his feet and firmly tugged it out. He did not even pause to take a breath, little crimson droplets beading up where the glass bit into his hand. It was very clear to him what it had come to.
His shirt was already soaked, and he was very well aware that he could have lasted a little longer if he had not tugged out the shard. Yet, it didn't seem to matter to him anymore, he didn't need those extra minutes, only the few moments that he spent taking two steps out to the right as he lunged at Austria and slammed into the man, 55 kilos of Kiwi fury thrust upon him. The makeshift blade was held tightly in both of his hands, the boy plunging it into the side of the man's neck.
He seemed to stare at Roderich sadly, the boy's breathing a little ragged as he grew ever paler and dropped at the other's feet. Gently he touched the crimson soaked fabric of his dress shirt, almost as if in a dazed amazement. The last burst of strength left him, the boy raising his head to stare at the other nation angrily. It had been his own fault to trust him, yet why did he feel so disappointed that he had been betrayed. He should have been more than expecting it, but somehow he had hoped that he wouldn't have to be so wary. It was tiring to be so paranoid of other nations intentions, maybe he had just hoped that he could use Austria as a mental example that he was simply being silly. It was too late now, Australia would laugh at him that he didn't put up much of a fight.
"It's...warm..." he thought aloud, curling up his fingers and pressing gently to the wound on his abdomen. He started to feel horribly cold, and it surprised him he didn't have any goosebumps yet to dot his arms. The blood was almost like a warm blanket, gently encircling him with warmth ass he slumped down to the floor, strength slowly draining from him. What had he been so angry and hurt about before? He couldn't remember anymore, the boy's body suddenly racked with sobs. Westley didn't want to let himself drift off to sleep like his mind tugged him to do, he knew what would happen if he allowed himself. Yet, somehow it almost seemed as if it was all just a dream, his mind fogging up as his consciousness slipped away from him. He fought it, counting in his mind to keep himself alert and stop himself but the inevitable fate that he had been shoved into was taking him.
"Mum..." he choked out the boy's fingers twitching as he seemed to reach out with the last of his strength. Where was the stupid Pom when he needed him, why wasn't he there taking care of him as he was supposed to? Canada? Australia? Was there really no one to help him? He hated asking for help, it was the worst thing to trouble someone to assist him where he had failed, having them help him clean up his own mess. Yet, now he was alone, and he couldn't help but yearn for his brother or his uncle to be there to coddle him like a child.
If he had another chance he would make sure that Roderich would feel despair like none other.
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Post by The First Inhabitant on Jan 19, 2014 2:21:08 GMT -6
Blood ran free from the fading nation as sleep took them, the door unlatched and swung open with a slight creaking of the hinges. Not all the way open no, but part way. On the other side of the door, there was a washroom with a small cabinet with soap to wash away any blood that had gotten them. A small light hug on the wall, giving off a faint glow that complimented the fire light. Also present was a bottle of wine that would heal his injuries and a glass. Blazoned across the mirror was another message. No head radiated from the fire. This message would be present until the Nation walked through the second door.
"Congrats on your victory Austria . You have proven to have the mettle to kill in cold blood, to face any foe. Take a rest and have a glass of wine. When ready, say ‘Offnen die Flamme to unlock the door” We want you at your strongest after all~
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Post by Deleted on Feb 6, 2014 19:14:08 GMT -6
He missed the kidney. Scheiß drauf, he missed. The realization of this came to Roderich when the word Austria had left this lips. He had meant to hit the kidney dead on, which would cause the other nation to go into shock and bleed to death still and without pain, but because of the position the boy was in, he missed. The boy would die in a couple of minutes, but the fact that Roderich missed meant that he could still have a minute to get up. Roderich’s eyes widened as he witnessed Neuseeland grabbing at the piece of glass sticking out of his chest and – Gott – pulling it out. Was he crazy? Roderich took another step back, unsure of what to make of this. The other nation would die quicker because of his actions but before he went, New Zealand seemed intent on getting up. Roderich watched a little droplets of blood ran down the boy’s hand, the one holding the glass he had just pull out of his body. What was he going to do? Surely not… Roderich saw a flash of green eyes and immediately felt something hit him with a tremendous amount of force. He scarcely had a moment to blink when he felt something sharp at his neck and then… The Alpine Nation felt something warm trickle down his leg. He barely focused on the man who just slammed into him, though he felt that New Zealand was also dropping down. Time suddenly stopped for him, making things slow. He was suddenly aware of how sharp everything had just gotten and how….odd it felt to have glass sticking out of one’s neck. Careful to not pull the piece out, Roderich clamped his fingers around the wound in his neck, trying to keep the blood in as he walked past the dying boy. The other nation was on the floor, weakly whispering for his mum, who Roderich barely registered as Arthur because the door they had found earlier suddenly opened, allowing Roderich access to another room. He walked to the other room slowly, hand clamped to his neck as his eyes briefly scanned a message that the Inhabitants had left for him. He barely comprehended the message, except for “Wine” and “Rest”. Rest, ja, that was what he needed. The wine wasn't uncorked, just standing there like a reward. Roderich felt so weak, he could literally feel the life slipping away from him. With every moment a certain kind of sleep called to him, for death is the cousin of sleep, and his light-headed mind wouldn’t last long enough if he tried to open the wine. His free hand gripped the bottle tight, smashing the top of the bottle against the table. Glass and red wine spilled over the secret little room. With a shaking hand Roderich brought the broken bottle up to pour a waterfall into his mouth, wincing as his neck started to burn. The wine was unnaturally sweet; he thought as slowly clarity came back into his head. It was only a minute or two later when Roderich stopped drinking the wine, for there was none left, and slowly pulled the glass stuck in his neck out. The wound closed the moment it left and with a final wince Roderich threw it on the floor. He was alive. He was alive and he had just killed an innocent person. Instant regrets and fears flooded his mind. What had he done? This game that he was forced to play, how could he let himself be pushed into the game by the Inhabitants? Why had he so easily broken? With shaky steps Roderich walked back into the room where Neuseeland was. Kidney stabbings are fatal, so seeing the boy on the floor with a halo of blood around his body was no surprise, just a huge regret. The brunette dropped to his knees right outside the puddle of blood that had formed and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulders. The corpse did not move, just sat there pale and almost angelic. He was sure the boy probably was older than a century or two, but that cherubic face lied to his eyes. Roderich closed them, wondering if he’d ever killed a child. The answer was yes as his murky memory told him. Somewhere in his mind, in his past he could hear the screams of a thousand years. Of children too young to understand what was going on. Of old men, some who went to their final rest having caused those screams for many reasons that all probably ended the same way. Of young men, first time out in the battlefield and trembling, you could see the child in their eyes of course. They would raise their halberds, swords, and axes, and later on muskets and guns. They would look into his eyes, whether his soldiers own or not, and see the face of what they would die for. Roderich knew not what happened during the final rest but he had always wanted to ask those boys whether it was worth it. “Was it worth it?” he asked himself and the corpse. Silence was once again his answer and he suddenly felt that he’d prefer the screaming of children and the weeping of mothers to the silence. The silence was deafening. It allowed thoughts to disturb the mind and invade that which the mind put up walls against. It replaced resolve with doubt and placation with chaos. And Austria had enough chaos for a lifetime. He’d live his whole life blasting symphonies out of his sound system and wreaking masterpieces from pianos if he had to not face the silence. “Kýrie eléison. Christe eléison. Kýrie eléison”Latin words of the Pater Noster tumbled out of him, Gott, like it was a century ago that he had said these same exact words to that ghastly version of Feliciano in that ruined chapel. It wouldn’t bring life to the boy he’d just killed for his own gain nor would it quiet his conscience, but something had to be done. “Et ne nos indúcas in tentatiónem. Sed libera nos a malo. Réquiem aetérnam dona ei, Dómine. Et lux perpétua lúceat ei. A porta ìnferi. R. Erue, Dómine, ánimam ejus. Réquiescat in pace. Amen. Dómine, exáudi oratiónem meam. Et clamor meus ad te véniat. Dóminus vobiscum.” Finished with as much as he could, as his voice about to break into harsh breaths and sobs, Roderich slipped off one of the rosaries he wore, the one on his wrist that was just a trinket he had bought at a market sometime before the Manor, and lifted the cold lifeless hands of the smaller and fairer nation. He slipped the rosary on easily and dropped the hand back to rest on a still chest. If anything, if or when the boy woke he would see the rosary as an apology for what Roderich had to, no, had done. It occurred to Roderich that he had never head the boy’s name, a real human name, and that there was something extremely shameful about that. Perhaps the island nation had even said it to him as Roderich’s head filled with thoughts of murder. Human names were quite personal of course, but Roderich thought that killing someone and then saying their last rites was rather personal indeed. He was Arthur’s boy, though, judging by that “Mum” and the English he had spoken to Roderich. so something rather…English? He looked down at that stiff hand wearing a rosary. Most likely the boy wasn't even Catholic, but perhaps he could see the thought. It was a false hope, Roderich knows, and it has little to do with the fact he killed Neuseeland in cold blood and like a coward. This manor was affecting strangely, crumbling so many of the resolves he had built up over years. Once more his hands were stained with blood. How much more was Austria going to have to do? The brown-haired man felt sick and left the corpse to go sit in a chair. Silence surrounded him once more, accompanied by the dark as a soloist. Roderich could feel his eyes droop from the exhaustion, both mental and physical, though the wine had clearly saved him. The dark lulled him into a sort of comfort and soon enough his eyes were closed to the world. His last thought was whether it had been sleep or death that had claimed him.
Roderich woke up in the chair. He panted harshly, looking to make sure if this was a nightmare. His eyes fell on the corpse, softly illuminated by the dim lights in the other room. He sighed, unhappy that this seemed to his current reality. At least he felt, physically, much better. He stretched his legs as he got up to go look over that note which was left to him by the beings who made this game. "Congrats on your victory Austria . You have proven to have the mettle to kill in cold blood, to face any foe. Take a rest and have a glass of wine. When ready, say ‘Offnen die Flamme to unlock the door” We want you at your strongest after all~ Both eyebrows raised in surprise now that he read the full message. So they wanted him like this, feeling like an absolute monster? He supposed they intended to make monsters out of men, but for what? Eventually a gladiator fight got dreadfully boring. Austria looked back into the small room he had just come from. A sink and a cabinet were there, along with the door he would need to unlock with the strange choice of words. Intuition told Roderich that his trials in this particular game were far from done and that at the least he could prepare. The water from the sink felt cold and rather wonderful on his skin. Blood was all over his clothes as well, but he couldn’t do much about that. He splashed water into his face and hair, making his bangs drop over his eyes. Time had definitely passed in the manor, thought Roderich as he looked at his stubble-covered face in the mirror. His hair had even gotten a little longer. His lips pursed at this. Gott, he looked so untidy. His only comb was his fingers so he used those to at least get his hair out of his eyes. Beauty procedures done, Roderich examined the cabinets for any medicine or the like. He only found large rolls of cotton gauze, which made an idea come to his head. He was definitely at a disadvantage with his rifle being a long-ranged weapon that needed at least a minute to load. While not particularly ideal, the glass could make a useful knife if treated well enough. He went back to the room, making sure not to come too close to the body. Eventually he found a long piece of broken mirror. He wrapped the gauze around the smoother edge and tied it after a thick cloth handle had been made. Placing that into one of his pockets, he sighed as he looked around for something else that could be useful. Unwilling to look at the corpse, much less loot him, Roderich left the room. Whatever was through the next door was either peaceful or wanting to kill him. Roderich grabbed his gun just in case, loading it up. He faced the door nervously, pointing his rifle toward it. “Offnen die Flamme.”Come what will. Roderich wasn't going to die after all of this.
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