Post by Deleted on Jan 26, 2014 10:06:45 GMT -6
Eyes fluttered open into partial darkness save for the light of a single candle-lit lamp at the woman’s bedside. At first everything seemed to swim and waver before her eyes, reality worn thin by the throbbing pain in her head but with the saving grace of a few long moments, eventually things began to take shape and Hungary blinked to realize that she was staring up at the canopy of a bed. Beneath her was the softness of an old bed that creaked as she moved herself, lifting a hand to clean up the sleeping sand from her eyes as well to rub her aching head. Puzzlement began to settle into her confused mind for Elizabeta had no idea where she was or how she came to be there. The last thing she remembered was… Frowning and slowly sitting up to bow her head down towards the bed, a groan slipping past her full lips, the Hungarian’s arm came to wrap around her abdomen as a nauseating sensation swirled in hr stomach which actually hurt.
“What the hell happened?” she muttered out to one in particular, considering that was alone in the room, wasn’t she? Stil rubbing her belly, Elizabeta finally looked up to survey her surroundings as much as the light of the lamp would allow. Apparently, she was in some sort of bedroom with furniture dating back at least a couple hundred years. Narrowing her eye sand raising a brow, Hungary almost asked another out loud question before she finally looked down at herself to see the attire of Moulin Rouge inspired costume. “That’s right…. Alfred’s party!” A smile swept through her lips as the night’s events appeared in her mind: getting ready at the hotel, the limo ride through American South back roads, walking up to the magnificent venue of the American plantation house, Baudeau Manor Alfred had called it, and arriving in the front hall before, before what? Rubbing her belly still, confusion creased her brow because Hungary could honestly not recall how or when she came to be placed in the bedroom.
“Wait… the lights when out and then, ouch!” Following her train of thought, Elizabeta had reached up to feel her head and sure enough, there was a fair sized goose egg of a bump on the side of her head. She had been knocked out, the lights had all gone out, there was confusion and people laughing because they thought it was a nice touch for a Halloween party, but then she supposed in the darkness she must have been knocked into or something and knocked out. Irritation made her eyes twitch and she cursed the clumsy asshole who had done that but what she couldn’t understand was why no one was there with her. If she had been knocked out, why wasn’t someone there waiting for her to wake up and inquire if she was all right?
“The bastards are probably too busy getting drunk to bother,” she said, rolling her eyes and swinging her legs off the bed to side up. Bad idea. As soon as her centre of gravity changed Hungary’s vision swam and her head ached, but worse of all was the wave of nausea that struck her so badly that she needed to sit back down and hang her head low. She was sick? Countries didn’t get sick, even with a blow to the head, they only got sick when some sort of economic crisis occurred in their country, or a plague, or famine or something. Worry washed over her but crap, she didn’t have a cell phone to call her boss. Forcing herself to stand, shutting her eyes tight against the sickening weak feeling spreading throughout her body, Elizabeta made her slow way around the bed towards what she presumed was the door. The feeling resonating though her body, seeming to originate from her very bones, was weird to say the least, because it felt as if she was sprinting hard instead of running, that her energy was being sapped into the very floorboards, and the brunette could not understand what her body was trying to tell her.
“There’s something wrong with me,” she concluded as she clasp the knob of the door, turned, and opened it on groaning hinges to reveal and empty and long hallway alight and lined with numerous doors, somewhat like a hotel. Peering down either end of the hall, Hungary was impressed by the size of the house because she couldn’t even hear the party, and that was saying something, because when nations got together their parties were legendary. Not exactly knowing which way she should go, Hungary took a few breaths, straightened her posture, pushed back her ill feelings though she kept a hand on her stomach, and started down the left hallway which looked as though it had a corner at the end. The sound of her heels on the carpet was the only sound to be head, which again was odd, and while it took a lot for Hungary to get scared, she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder every so often because she couldn’t she the feeling that she was being watched.
“Wow, America really did a great job!” she said out loud, laughing to herself and waving herself off for being silly. Even still, the hair on her back of her neck began to stand up and instinctively her pace increased until she reached the end of the hall, which did in fact turn right, but to reveal yet another passage. “How big is this place, anyhow?” came her unanswered question and standing there staring at the hall until a faint click made her spin around, ready for a fight. Motionless she stood, hands clenched already into fists, eyes narrowed and analyzing everything, but the hall was the same except for… A door that she had just passed was now open, barely however, but enough to be noticeable. Staring at the irregularity, Hungary once again shook her head and smiled because it was an old house, things shifted and doorframes didn’t always line up as they should. Walking towards the door, intending to close it, Elizabeta paused with her hand on the knob and instead of closing I, she gently pushed it open to reveal yet another bedroom, this one oddly enough illuminated by a couple candles and peeking her head instead, her eyes were drawn to the bed and a gasp escaped her lips.
“Roderich?”
In a rush, forgoing her own aching belly, Elizabeta came into the room, closed the door began without a second thought, and came to the bedside where the Austrian Jäger laid upon the bed serenely, his double rifle laying next to him, and she had to smile because she still thought his costume choice was adorable somehow. The Austrian looked the same as he had when she had first saw him in his costume back at the hotel, but there was something off about him now. Coming to sit on the bed next to him, concern and worry softened Hungary’s features and she gently placed a hand on his cheek, another on his shoulder, her eyes scanning his face. He looked the same, but there was a slight darkening under his eyes and his hair was slightly out of place; had he been knocked out too? “Roderich, wake up! Come one, we have to get back to the others. Roderich?” Her tone was soft as she gently shook him, the hand at his cheek feeling his forehead out of nature for a fever, but to soon she had to take back one of her own hands and rub her abdomen, expression flinching as another wave of weakness swept through her. “Wake up, Roderich, please?” she whispered, shaking him gently but with urgency.
Note: In case you didn't realize, Hungary being sick is jus the Manor sapping her national strength, since the time flux allows me to enjoy wearing down her ignorance that this is a 'party' :3 Hope this works!
“What the hell happened?” she muttered out to one in particular, considering that was alone in the room, wasn’t she? Stil rubbing her belly, Elizabeta finally looked up to survey her surroundings as much as the light of the lamp would allow. Apparently, she was in some sort of bedroom with furniture dating back at least a couple hundred years. Narrowing her eye sand raising a brow, Hungary almost asked another out loud question before she finally looked down at herself to see the attire of Moulin Rouge inspired costume. “That’s right…. Alfred’s party!” A smile swept through her lips as the night’s events appeared in her mind: getting ready at the hotel, the limo ride through American South back roads, walking up to the magnificent venue of the American plantation house, Baudeau Manor Alfred had called it, and arriving in the front hall before, before what? Rubbing her belly still, confusion creased her brow because Hungary could honestly not recall how or when she came to be placed in the bedroom.
“Wait… the lights when out and then, ouch!” Following her train of thought, Elizabeta had reached up to feel her head and sure enough, there was a fair sized goose egg of a bump on the side of her head. She had been knocked out, the lights had all gone out, there was confusion and people laughing because they thought it was a nice touch for a Halloween party, but then she supposed in the darkness she must have been knocked into or something and knocked out. Irritation made her eyes twitch and she cursed the clumsy asshole who had done that but what she couldn’t understand was why no one was there with her. If she had been knocked out, why wasn’t someone there waiting for her to wake up and inquire if she was all right?
“The bastards are probably too busy getting drunk to bother,” she said, rolling her eyes and swinging her legs off the bed to side up. Bad idea. As soon as her centre of gravity changed Hungary’s vision swam and her head ached, but worse of all was the wave of nausea that struck her so badly that she needed to sit back down and hang her head low. She was sick? Countries didn’t get sick, even with a blow to the head, they only got sick when some sort of economic crisis occurred in their country, or a plague, or famine or something. Worry washed over her but crap, she didn’t have a cell phone to call her boss. Forcing herself to stand, shutting her eyes tight against the sickening weak feeling spreading throughout her body, Elizabeta made her slow way around the bed towards what she presumed was the door. The feeling resonating though her body, seeming to originate from her very bones, was weird to say the least, because it felt as if she was sprinting hard instead of running, that her energy was being sapped into the very floorboards, and the brunette could not understand what her body was trying to tell her.
“There’s something wrong with me,” she concluded as she clasp the knob of the door, turned, and opened it on groaning hinges to reveal and empty and long hallway alight and lined with numerous doors, somewhat like a hotel. Peering down either end of the hall, Hungary was impressed by the size of the house because she couldn’t even hear the party, and that was saying something, because when nations got together their parties were legendary. Not exactly knowing which way she should go, Hungary took a few breaths, straightened her posture, pushed back her ill feelings though she kept a hand on her stomach, and started down the left hallway which looked as though it had a corner at the end. The sound of her heels on the carpet was the only sound to be head, which again was odd, and while it took a lot for Hungary to get scared, she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder every so often because she couldn’t she the feeling that she was being watched.
“Wow, America really did a great job!” she said out loud, laughing to herself and waving herself off for being silly. Even still, the hair on her back of her neck began to stand up and instinctively her pace increased until she reached the end of the hall, which did in fact turn right, but to reveal yet another passage. “How big is this place, anyhow?” came her unanswered question and standing there staring at the hall until a faint click made her spin around, ready for a fight. Motionless she stood, hands clenched already into fists, eyes narrowed and analyzing everything, but the hall was the same except for… A door that she had just passed was now open, barely however, but enough to be noticeable. Staring at the irregularity, Hungary once again shook her head and smiled because it was an old house, things shifted and doorframes didn’t always line up as they should. Walking towards the door, intending to close it, Elizabeta paused with her hand on the knob and instead of closing I, she gently pushed it open to reveal yet another bedroom, this one oddly enough illuminated by a couple candles and peeking her head instead, her eyes were drawn to the bed and a gasp escaped her lips.
“Roderich?”
In a rush, forgoing her own aching belly, Elizabeta came into the room, closed the door began without a second thought, and came to the bedside where the Austrian Jäger laid upon the bed serenely, his double rifle laying next to him, and she had to smile because she still thought his costume choice was adorable somehow. The Austrian looked the same as he had when she had first saw him in his costume back at the hotel, but there was something off about him now. Coming to sit on the bed next to him, concern and worry softened Hungary’s features and she gently placed a hand on his cheek, another on his shoulder, her eyes scanning his face. He looked the same, but there was a slight darkening under his eyes and his hair was slightly out of place; had he been knocked out too? “Roderich, wake up! Come one, we have to get back to the others. Roderich?” Her tone was soft as she gently shook him, the hand at his cheek feeling his forehead out of nature for a fever, but to soon she had to take back one of her own hands and rub her abdomen, expression flinching as another wave of weakness swept through her. “Wake up, Roderich, please?” she whispered, shaking him gently but with urgency.
Note: In case you didn't realize, Hungary being sick is jus the Manor sapping her national strength, since the time flux allows me to enjoy wearing down her ignorance that this is a 'party' :3 Hope this works!