Demetrio Fortuna
Fresh Meat
Heteroflexable.
22.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
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Post by Portugal on Sept 10, 2014 18:21:22 GMT -6
Walking these lonely halls, Demetrio could only hum to himself as a way to keep focused here. Music helped his mind keep out the clutter and keep track of what was important, especially in a place like this. It helped him realize that some things he had seen were only illusions, things meant to fool him. One such thing had been a beautiful window had been changed to resemble a door that led outside. He had barely avoided that one only because he had tripped and hit the wall, breaking the spell over his mind. Actually that wasn't music but his own clumsiness that kept his heart beating firmly in his chest. No, the need for music, apart from his own love of it, came from a memory, one that was only a few years hundred years old.
It was a day he'd never forget. It had been cold for the country of Portugal, unreasonably so. Many had blamed the fact that the weather had been a curse from the Spaniards, that they were residing where they shouldn't be; and as superstitious as Demetrio was, he couldn't blame his brother for this. It was just a cold spell, one of many he had experienced through his years, one that would bring the gentle warmth of spring once winter had had her stay. But it was during this unseasonable time that he ducked into a shop to warm up his frozen feet that he found this secret. Much to his delight, it was a fortune teller. Many of the other nations thought him and his people silly for their near fascination with the supernatural, but today it paid off. The old woman had beckoned him inside and provided him with spiced ale while he waited. She seemed to have a telling twinkle in her eye that outshone jewelry around her head and neck. It was this woman who had looked at her cards and deep into the crystal ball only to announced that music would be his salvation when times were bleak. He had thanked the mistress before leaving with a smile on his face. This advice had stuck with him and sustained him through hard times. And once again, he was thankful to the advice from the mysterious mistress who seemed to realize more about him than she should have. Despite all the hard moments he had faced before, treading the halls of the manor, Demetrio was convinced these were bleakest moments of his life.
A small sound echoed down the hall he was currently walking and Demetrio knew he had to place that sound. Listening carefully to the rhythmic click-click-click, it became apparent it was the claws of a beast, one of the animals like monsters that inhabited this place. Each inhale of breath brought an imaginary tang of blood to his nose from where it was dripping from the claws and teeth, each footsteps leaving red in its wake. A drop of sweat ran down his neck as his eyes scanned around for a place to hide. Unfortunately, his luck was such that there was only one place to hide. Ducking into the room and keeping the door closed, he tried to keep his ragged breathing shallow as his back pressed firmly against the door, hoping to keep it shut. This was not how he wanted it to end; this was not how the Great Nation of Portugal was supposed to die. If he went down, it would be in the heat of battle when Lady Death would place his final kiss on his lips and draw him with her into the afterlife.
The sound of the monster passing and finally leaving the hall brought a relieved sigh from his throat and the icy fingers of dread that had clenched his heart had released its grip, leaving his heart able to slow down to a normal beat again. He was safe for another few minutes at least. Taking this chance to look around the room he had claimed as his sanctuary, his eyes roved over may different instruments. The piano looked to be well kept or along with the other instruments that inhabited this room. It would be good to hear some music again, some real music and not the kind he made up in his head to keep himself distracted. Walking over to the pieces, he looked though the choices before picking up an old guitar. It wasn’t exactly like the one he was used to playing, but it would work. Picking up the instrument, he sat on one of the benches and his fingers danced across the strings. A light sound rang from the instrument, one of random notes that didn’t resemble any song , but just a melody all of its own. The tune was reminiscent of his ever popular Fado music with the potentially haunting melody, but it wasn’t sad to hear, at least not to Demetrio. To him, it spoke of hope, a promise of a better tomorrow. Perhaps he was foolish to hear that in the music that commonly yearned for the old days, the days at sea where he was free to be himself, but it did.
As the sound continued to weave through the air, a small smile spread across his face. For this moment, at least right now, he was content.
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Nesia Pertiwi Annisa Ingkiriwang Notonegoro
Survivor
heterosexual.
single.
23.
Played by Derp.
Offline.
panda suit. bamboo spear. rafflesia arnoldii. died twice. speaks "chocolate"
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Post by Indonesia on Sept 11, 2014 14:44:21 GMT -6
Her only aim was to find a place with pillow and bed comfortable enough to rest her tired body. Both calves were aching and she couldn't move her ring finger - cramping because of holding the bamboo for god knows how long. So when Indonesia finally found an unlocked door that revealed a bedroom behind it, without even thinking she leaped and jumped to the bed. Yet before she laid herself down the bedsheet was sucked into the middle of the bed, dragging her along. Thankfully, her reflex was good and the sheet didn't tangle itself around any of her limbs, allowing her to roll to the edge of the bed. Without wasting any second, Indonesia hurriedly left the room. Who knows, maybe there is something more sinister lurking inside it.
Afterwards, she didn't even bother checking if all the doors she had passed led to a real, safe bedroom. Indonesia ignored them, pushing herself to keep walking in the endless hallways. It bored her, making her more stressed for every step she took. The nation remembered every single thing that had happened to her once she stepped into the manor. For every moment of joy comes a greater misery afterwards. She had lost her friends when the blackout happened, and the ones she did meet during her journey to seek a way out were... not entirely her friends. Like something had taken their skin and wore it over themselves, acting like a puppeteer with cruel intentions masked behind familiar faces.
One of her painful memories was involving one of her fellow nation killing her. It was not accidental. It was intentional. What's worse was the fact that she had no grudge or any previous resentment towards said nation. The manor made them fight. The manor made he killed her. Indonesia had experienced several deaths in her life, but never she had two deaths occurred closely. Being immortal and able to resurrect herself didn't mean that going through death was painless...
As her thoughts of her past experiences swam to the surface, her body shook with anger. It's not just her here; there were others too, nations that had survived many ordeals. War and famine, rebellion and natural disasters. A mere house owned by some wicked spirits would not be able to imprison them!
Her anger and strong wish to be free moved her hand to slam her weapon against the wooden wall. It was sturdy enough to withstand her attack, or perhaps her weapon was too blunt to serve its purpose. Nevertheless, Indonesia slammed it again and again until a hole appeared with a loud crack. The woman took a step back, admiring her work. She was glad that it was a real wall instead of illusion. Only darkness was seen beyond the hole she made. Although she felt curious, Indonesia didn't waste any effort to peek into it.
Besides, something else stole her curiosity. A sound of a guitar string being plucked. It was just one note, gone as swiftly as its coming. She froze in her place, being never heard any musical instrument played within the house. In an old place like this, she would have expected a piano or a violin, not a guitar. Wary, she pushed her panda hood back to allow better hearing. She held her bamboo in front of her body tightly, her cramping finger's protest was ignored. Guessing where the sound came from was hard; it seemed to come through the many hallways of the manor. Nothing in the dim hallway was moving except her. But then the guitar sang again, this time longer and slowly forming something that she recognized.
A melody from the past, from her teenage days. When she was not yet a nation, not yet a colony. Indonesia stared at the ceiling. Maybe this house was as old as the memory. She frowned. No... it sounded impossible, but maybe the house read her mind and decided to torment her using it? Well, she wouldn't fall to such a cheap trick like this!
With the determination as her fuel, she walked as quick and as silently as possible towards the source of the music. She eventually arrived at a door that was slightly open. She remained motionless in front of that door, listening. From the corner of her mind, imaginary scents of sea and pepper sprung and danced around the melody. Such a dirty trick, disguising a monster behind this beautiful song.
Once she felt that she had listened long enough, the nation took a deep breath and pushed the door open. "Show yourself."
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Demetrio Fortuna
Fresh Meat
Heteroflexable.
22.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
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Post by Portugal on Sept 16, 2014 14:14:30 GMT -6
Letting the music seep into his head and saturate his mind was probably a really stupid move in the long run, but for now, he took the comfort it brought him. While it did remind him of home, a small taste of what he was missing, it didn’t make him yearn for home any more than he already was. Some people would have been surprised, even his brother had sometimes said his music was depressing, but Deme didn’t see it that was. These songs, the melancholic songs whose notes rolled from the instrument with a single touch of his fingers, were always something that boosted his spirits. His music was about yearning for the old days, what was and what could never be again. So perhaps he understood why it was depressing to some people when words were added, but the ways that the music could resonate, especially added with other instruments took a simple song of longing and transformed it into something magical. Hearing the ways the notes danced through the air, creating a life of their own often brought to mind a woman dancing. Her dress sweeping the floor with each dip and the way it twirled around her body was a beautiful art in and of itself. To him, the sound of his music was a form of magic. The way the notes intertwined together and the way the body could move with it…it was just a form of home to him.
While the so called magic of his own music locked Demetrio in its spell, it went unnoticed to him that the door that he had shut and locked had slowly opened, nary a creek to warn of its actions. Standing a bit open, it seemed to beckon to people, the music as if a Siren, calling to people to come and see what who was playing. For who could resist a good song and a mystery of what was behind a partially shut door? As the music wound tighter in it’s almost verse, that’s when new words startled Demetrio out of the trance he had worked himself into.
"Show yourself."
Moving the instrument to the side, shifting his fingers around the neck out of an instinctual need for a weapon, he stood and tried to take a step back as to gather a wider range to search for what had spoke those words, he fell. Tripping right over the bench, feet over head, he landed with an oomph face down on the floor, guitar still in his hand by his side. The only thing he thought of as he stared at the grains of wood in front of him was that he didn’t shriek as he fell.
“……Now that you got a laugh, who is it? Highly doubtful a monster would demand a musician show himself, that’s not very proper anyways, least not in company.”
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Nesia Pertiwi Annisa Ingkiriwang Notonegoro
Survivor
heterosexual.
single.
23.
Played by Derp.
Offline.
panda suit. bamboo spear. rafflesia arnoldii. died twice. speaks "chocolate"
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Post by Indonesia on Oct 1, 2014 13:16:59 GMT -6
If she closed her eyes and slowly retreated back to the hallway, Nesia could feel herself drown in the music. These gloomy rooms would disappear as well, and trees would grow around her feet with dew on each of their leaves. There would be a gentle breeze, bringing the scent of the ocean and the long voyage to the unknown shores. Soon seagulls would gather, gliding seamlessly around the ships staying on the docks. The sun would shine brightly above them all, sending its merciless heat to the earthlings.
But Nesia kept her eyes open, ignoring the discomfort that she caused. The temptation was hard to resist, however. Deep down, she wished she could just drop her weapon, stripped off this heavy costume and became the dancer that brought the music into elegant movements. Not now, not now. Any monster should not play such a beautiful music like this, even though they did it to trick her; their filthy hands were unworthy and would forever taint her precious memory. There was no way she would want to dance to a monster's illusion. She had had enough. She was sick of this endless trap. She loathed everything that had taken residence in the house - be they nations or not. They might not be monsters, their appearance might look human, but being here for so long certainly had affected their mind. Her nails dug into her palm. They were using them as toys. They were trying to change them into vile beings. While she still had her sanity, Nesia better do something to prevent it. She might be just one nation, but one was better than none, and every little act counts.
She was glad she had spoken. The images ceased, uncovering its lies and deceit. Her limbs twitched slightly, their wish to dance disappeared. Then something moved - fell, to be precise. That something looked surprisingly human, wrapped in a large, dark coat. It's a man. The way he fell was comical; she couldn't help but snicker.
“……Now that you got a laugh, who is it? Highly doubtful a monster would demand a musician show himself, that’s not very proper anyways, least not in company.”
Reminded to her earlier thoughts, Nesia steadied herself. She held her short weapon with both hands in front of her body, while her left leg dragged to open her stance a bit. It's a kuda-kuda position. She was ready to face an attack now.
"State your name," Nesia commanded. Yet she already recognized his voice, his facial features and the guitar that was the source of the music. "If you are really... the person who do you think you are, then convince me that it's really you, and not just some filthy imposter." [[ kuda-kuda: battle stance ]]
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Demetrio Fortuna
Fresh Meat
Heteroflexable.
22.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
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Post by Portugal on Oct 15, 2014 16:25:42 GMT -6
Demetrio had thought he had recognized that stance, it was one he had seen may times before, years ago if not decades. The profile of the figure was also familiar, one that he had taken under his wing long ago if he was correct. The voice was almost the same, except for young and care free, this one held the same timbre except for new found wariness and perhaps was color with a tinge of fear. He hadn’t experienced much in the way of actual problems, but this play did play on his paranoia, his old superstitious nature that there were things he couldn’t see that were messing with him, causing the icy chill to run down his back. Could this be such a creature that could mock the voices of those that it had encountered, was it using this to try and get close to him and make him drop his guard?
"State your name. If you are really...the person who do you think you are, then convince me that its really you, and not some filthy imposter."
He was the older one, the more experience one, and while he knew he could have some obliviousness moments like his brother, this wasn't one of them. Shifting a grip on his guitar, he checked it for the weight to make sure he could swing it well and stepped into his own fighting stance. Listening quietly, he waited to hear any breathing he shouldn't have, any sounds that would indicate that this was a trap....but there was nothing. Just the sound of his own breathing and hers, the sound of his own heard beating a cadence in his chest and in his ears, feeling as if it was going to beat out of his chest all together and save any monsters around the trouble of doing him in. Forcing himself to stand at his full height, he tried to pull his former strength and how imposing he was before it fell and he joined the Iberian Union.
"Portugal, Demetrio is you must know. Musician, dancer, and an excellent fighter. Now who are you, prove to me that you are no imposter, no mimicker of voices, or face the wrath this former Empire had in all its glory”
Deep down, he knew he couldn’t do much damage to anything that tried to attack him with the guitar unless he got a chance to bash it over the head, but he doubted it would stand still long enough for a decent head shot. That’s if it was something after him anyways. I it was another Nation, his holding a weapon would be a mote point.
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Nesia Pertiwi Annisa Ingkiriwang Notonegoro
Survivor
heterosexual.
single.
23.
Played by Derp.
Offline.
panda suit. bamboo spear. rafflesia arnoldii. died twice. speaks "chocolate"
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Post by Indonesia on Oct 19, 2014 3:42:03 GMT -6
Her chest felt heavy. Her muscles stiff. Her eyes dry.
For every second passed, Nesia expected an attack or two going on her direction. She wasted not even a millisecond to see at anything other than the man who was standing up before her. He was taller, stronger and despite not having a better weapon, Nesia knew he could swing the guitar and still made a considerable damage. Even though that was not how he usually used that guitar. Ah, memories...
"Portugal, Demetrio is you must know. Musician, dancer, and an excellent fighter. Now who are you, prove to me that you are no imposter, no mimicker of voices, or face the wrath this former Empire had in all its glory.”
Nesia stayed silent. Giving her identity freely to this man - if he was really Portugal - might be disadvantageous for her. Monsters who used psychological attack could use it to further play with her mind, planting lies and tricks. Not that she ever met any... but she could not simply ignore the possibility. Then again, a familiar face and a name were not enough to convince her that he was really Portugal.
Though... there were things that only the nations knew. Old tales might had escaped human mind, but they were more than humans. Their consciousness reached forgotten corners, unexplored moments not yet known by modern civilization. Nesia would rather avoid speaking her name aloud, lest one of those wretched beings was eavesdropping. The only alternative she could think would be more than her usual beating around the bush. Hopefully, if he was a monster, he would lose his temper and reveal his real nature. If not... at least she would gain a temporary ally.
Without releasing her gaze to Portugal's eyes, Indonesia created more distance between them by slowly dragging herself backwards. "Portugal. Yes, I do know you. It has been centuries, right?" Her tone was casual, yet tinged with slight wariness. If they both were not holding weapons and dressed like a normal twenty first century citizen, this conversation could be mistaken as two old acquaintances meeting at a local coffee shop. "Remember when we first met? You were looking for... ah, a rather exotic ingredient worth more than gold. You warred against my relatives. Suffice to say we didn't start so well back then." Judging from the architecture, this Manor was nowhere as old as them. And Nesia's house was half a world away. These creatures probably had no idea what she was talking about.
"Hope you still remember this face."
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Demetrio Fortuna
Fresh Meat
Heteroflexable.
22.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
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Post by Portugal on Dec 19, 2014 19:41:28 GMT -6
Each breath that Demetrio took marked a second of time where mistrust grew as the silence stretched between them. Of course he couldn’t blame her for her silence, as she was probably doing the same thing as he was, assessing the situation and looking him over, looking for clues to show that he was who he said he was, that he was still in the right mindset to be thrust worthy. Such was the nature of the Nations. It was easier in this situation to revert back to the old ways of trusting only once they have proved they deserved the trust, such as it was in the days of conquest and before.
He couldn’t help looking her over though, assessing her for damage and any sign of strain that would show itself around her eyes and across her face. No matter how careful she was, those things she couldn’t hide, no stone face could hide the wear of fright tiredness. And he could see it, as plain as day. He wanted to reach out and to comfort his old friend, but not yet, not before he got proof positive it was her and not his imagination… though if it was his imagination, it would be pretty embarrassing for him to have went feet over head for a ghost of a memory.
"Portugal. Yes, I do know you. It has been centuries, right?"
“Sim, at least that long… if not…. Well, time meu amigo, is very strange… I had seen you at the party even if you didn’t see me.“
"Remember when we first met? You were looking for... ah, a rather exotic ingredient worth more than gold. You warred against my relatives. Suffice to say we didn't start so well back then."
Slowly putting the guitar down in a sign of trust, he sat back down, hands on either side of him on the bench, head cocked to the side in a thinking manor. Reaching up to scratch his head, he shrugged.
“Mhm, that I do. Little girl running around, seemingly uneducated and with all the resources a growing Empire would want. It was mainly the spices that led to war, the need for the money that could be gained from such things as nutmeg. The fighting wasn’t personal, but rather the need for cash.”
“Hope you still remember this face."
Raising an eyebrow at her, he smiled and winked before patting the seat next to him, inviting her over to sit with him.
"I remember that face well enough, but if you wanted to test me, you should have asked me something harder, anyone with a knowledge of history would be able to tell you what the Empire was looking for. Now, perhaps you can tell me, what did I used to call the cute little girl I had found on those islands so long ago?”
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Nesia Pertiwi Annisa Ingkiriwang Notonegoro
Survivor
heterosexual.
single.
23.
Played by Derp.
Offline.
panda suit. bamboo spear. rafflesia arnoldii. died twice. speaks "chocolate"
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Post by Indonesia on Jan 11, 2015 14:21:44 GMT -6
“Sim, at least that long… if not…. Well, time meu amigo, is very strange… I had seen you at the party even if you didn’t see me.“
Her eyebrow arched. Just like the stereotype of her people, Indonesia arrived late at that party, because she went looking for her costume at the very last minute. She definitely did not see Portugal there before the blackout. Which was not strange, considering her attention was focused at the snack tables.
"Little girl running around, seemingly uneducated and with all the resources a growing Empire would want."
Her jaw stiffened, preventing her face muscles from forming a smile. Little girl running around, seemingly uneducated was how most of the European sailors remembered her. Running barefoot, playing all day and taking naps in the wilderness. Ah, happiness was so simple back then. The previously tense shoulder relaxed as the man before her laid down his guitar and sat on the bench. The danger has passed.
He was right, she should have asked him about a less-known historical fact. Perhaps like how he imprisoned and poisoned Khairun, a Sultan of Ternate - a predecessor of hers - who was also his ally, in 1570. Or like how his successor, Sultan Baabullah, laid siege to the Portuguese fortress for five years, forcing them to retreat to another island. Those were not widely known among people who skimmed the world history.
"Now, perhaps you can tell me, what did I used to call the cute little girl I had found on those islands so long ago?”
Indonesia leaned her spear against a nearby table, mimicking his choice to let go of his guitar. "Ilha," she answered, the word tinged with a slight accent. The Portuguese language, despite influenced her modern national language, did not make its way to everyday usage so much; aside being used in several churches for mass. "You said I kept hopping from island to island," the woman added, crossing the room with slow steps, "and I didn't have any names that defined me." She stopped before him, head tilted to the side, assessing the man's existence and connecting it with the memory she had in mind.
The manor changed people, putting thick layers of fear and dread above glory and might. One needed to see past those obstructions to find the real person.
After staring for a while, Indonesia shifted and sat beside him. "...I am glad you're okay," she muttered.
She truly meant it.
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Demetrio Fortuna
Fresh Meat
Heteroflexable.
22.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
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Post by Portugal on Jan 14, 2015 21:03:09 GMT -6
Having Nesia sit next to him relived a growing tension that had started to build with the silence. It seemed, almost as if against her better judgment, she had decided to trust him. In Demetrio’s head, it could only be a good thing, could only help having another set of eyes to watch out for stray things that should not be around. His superstitious nature had been on high alert, blaring out warnings and almost leading to a few panic attacks along the way. A small memory sometimes bothered him, but he could not remember for the life of him who told him. The tale was about the Japanese creatures that could turn into lanterns and umbrellas, anything normal that might be in a house. Were they here? In this room? Feeling his heart rate jump as he tried not to look around, he closed his eyes and gently laid his head back to breath deep, trying to calm himself down without alerting his female companion anything was wrong.
"I’m glad you're okay.”
Was he truly alright? In truth, he didn’t know. The country of Portugal rarely admitted defeat and this was no different. There was a lot he couldn’t remember about all the happenings so far, but was that because he had stayed knocked out longer than the rest, only really awakening once the flood waters had receded? Or was it something more sinister; had his memories been taken by the manor for some unknown purpose? Or worse yet, had he blocked all those memories out to hide some traumas, hide some action he had been forced to take against a fellow nation, one who had probably trusted him as Indonesia was now.
"As aright as can be expected, I think.”
It seemed like he would have to rely on her for comfort, as long as she continued to trust him; something which he doubted right now. Opening his eyes and turning his head to smile at her, he couldn’t help a teasing wink.
"And how are you fairing gorgeous?”
He had looked her over after he has managed to recover from his fall, but really it told him nothing. He knew he was just as oblivious as his brother sometimes, but even not being able to tell if the costume was the same one she had on earlier was a little beyond how bad he normally was. Reaching out carefully, he laid his palm on the back of her hand and gave a little squeeze.
"Everything will be alright, yes?"
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Nesia Pertiwi Annisa Ingkiriwang Notonegoro
Survivor
heterosexual.
single.
23.
Played by Derp.
Offline.
panda suit. bamboo spear. rafflesia arnoldii. died twice. speaks "chocolate"
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Post by Indonesia on Feb 5, 2015 18:02:17 GMT -6
"As alright as can be expected, I think.”
Indonesia did not know what to respond. Neither her heart nor her mind formed any adequate reply to his remark. Not even a nod or a smile. What does one say to someone -- an acquaintance? Friend? Business partner? -- whom she has known for centuries when they meet in this circumstances? Portugal's words went into the air and faded as quickly as he closed his mouth. The woman's gaze was directed at the floor near his feet, but unfocused. They would never be alright as long as the manor's influence still draped over their senses. This was no more than a brief moment to breathe and rest, to prepare themselves for their next anguish.
As a nation, Indonesia understood that permanent alliance or enmity were rare. In any moment, either could turn into another, preceded by warnings or not. Even though she maintained positive relations with several nations, their differing views and beliefs could spark a conflict anytime -- something that both parties avoided. But under the manor's magic, those factors were less influential, for the Inhabitants often turned them to each other against their will...
Indonesia's musing was interrupted by Portugal's expression -- no, movement. "And how are you faring gorgeous?” she heard him asking. She only shrugged in response, still partially dwelling in her thoughts.
"Everything will be alright, yes?"
"I..." normally the woman would nod and smiled before moving to another topic, yet after devoting all her time and energy to survive, Indonesia had no strength left to compose euphemism-laced answer. What's the use of shielding the hard truth when he might already know what dread lurked within the manor?
"I'm not sure. It seems we are trapped in a labyrinth, without any way to get out." She furrowed her eyebrows, scrutinizing the man's face. "Is your eye alright, by the way...?"
After pondering for a moment, Indonesia spoke again; this time her curiosity pushed all her questions out. "...How long you have been here? Did you meet anyone else, other nations? What have you seen? Is there any... any blank spaces in your memory?"
It had not been long since Indonesia entered this room, but the suspicion had been replaced with trust. And she wished Portugal was still Portugal -- not a puppet controlled by the Inhabitants' strings.
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Demetrio Fortuna
Fresh Meat
Heteroflexable.
22.
Played by Silv.
Offline.
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Post by Portugal on Feb 11, 2015 21:17:14 GMT -6
”I..”
Hearing her hesitate with her words, he wrapped an arm around her, trying to comfort her. He knew this place was awful, he could sense it though he had no supernatural senses of his own. It seemed like she had experienced a lot more her than he had…though he didn’t seem like he had been awake and aware all that long compared to how it seemed she was.
”I’m not sure. It seems we are trapped in a labyrinth, without any way to get out. Is your eye alright by the way?”
He was about to answer that she was right, that it did seem as if they were trapped in a maze, some places darker and more dangerous than the others. But he was distracted with the eye comment. Slowly reaching up, felt around his eye. It didn’t feel any different…Unless there was something going on with it that he couldn’t see. He would have to find a mirror later and look. He hoped there wasn’t something going on, he already had a scar and he didn’t want his eye damaged even more.
”Not that I know of, last time I checked, my eye was fine.”
”…How long have you been here? Did you meet anyone else, other nations? What have you seen? Is there any… any blanks spaces in your memory?” Looking at her with a cocked head, he really looked her over. The questions that feel from her lips were odd ones. She looked tired to him, exhausted. Where those small tears in her costume.. .outfit, whatever she was wearing? Was it just shadows under her eyes or black spots from using too much energy, from seeing to many things that were even worse than there history could prepare them for.
” I haven’t seen many here, not besides you… and blank spaces? Not that I’m aware of…though I don’t think I’ve been awake that long either. I woke up as the flood was retreating and found my brother in the theater. From there I came here, needed to straighten my mind out.”
Pulling her against his side, he wrapped the cloak around the two of them, trying to help her find comfort and allow her nerves to relax.
”Relax and let big brother Portugal take care of you for old time sakes. We must all have those we can depend on, it helps keep us strong.”
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Nesia Pertiwi Annisa Ingkiriwang Notonegoro
Survivor
heterosexual.
single.
23.
Played by Derp.
Offline.
panda suit. bamboo spear. rafflesia arnoldii. died twice. speaks "chocolate"
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Post by Indonesia on Feb 20, 2015 0:49:07 GMT -6
Fear. Anxiety. Weariness. Anger.
Fury.
The thought of tearing the walls of the Manor into a million pieces flooded Indonesia's nerves with adrenaline and joy. She could not wait, she was impatient. Her fingers curled and straightened, shaking from the excitement. Dark brown eyes opened wide, as if trying to pierce through the door and the wall behind it and the other wall behind it and the other wall behind--
A rustle, a touch on her arm followed by a pull towards someone else's body pushed Indonesia back into reality. The woman's body stiffened out of surprise, then her arm moved to free herself away from Portugal's embrace. She still disliked close contact, even under this tense situation. The only tolerable condition was life threatening emergency. But the woman kept the cloak over her shoulder, signaling that she did not mind sharing the clothes with him. Besides, it gave her the warmth she craved.
”I haven’t seen many here, not besides you… and blank spaces? Not that I’m aware of…though I don’t think I've been awake that long either. I woke up as the flood was retreating and found my brother in the theater. From there I came here, needed to straighten my mind out.” His answer indicated that he had not explored much of the establishment, nor encountered much unlucky guests.
Indonesia massaged her temple, feeling cold sweat had trickling from her scalp. It's not good; negative emotions would not bring anything helpful. Yet she couldn't help but sitting still as the resentment and frustration merged into one... one ball, one bomb ready to explode anytime. Maybe she could do what Portugal does -- straightening her own mind. Too bad Indonesia did not bring any cigarette into the party. No one expected that they would stay longer than mere few hours.
”Relax and let big brother Portugal take care of you for old times sake. We must all have those we can depend on, it helps keep us strong.”
A faint smile appeared as the black haired nation shook her had. "I'm sorry for being so gloomy. Let's just talk about something else while we have this chance." With a brighter expression, Indonesia turned her head to him and asked, "so, what do you want to do once we left this manor?"
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