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Post by Deleted on May 3, 2012 22:03:36 GMT -6
With the door shut behind them, Norway pressed on casting glances around the entrance all around them, towards the front grand staircase, and directed their group to the leftwing corridor. Alv brought up the rear, placing Tino in the middle, and when Lukas came to the first door, he stopped. This hall, like so many others in this godforsaken house, was streamed on wither side by identical doors. Numerous rooms occupied the enormous space within the walls of the manor and the majority of them were locked. Laboriously, Lukas reached forward wit his left arm, keeping his right one free to wield his sword, and pain scourged through his entire arm as he grasped the handle and turned.
The first door opened, only to reveal a vacant closet. Reclosing the door and moving down the corridor to the next, proved to be more successful. Once the door was open, Lukas stepped back to allow the door to swing slowly past him, steadying himself in front of Finland, in case anything were to charge from the bowels of the dark room. Alv drifted from around Finland and without hesitant entered the room. Within moment, the lights flicked on and the troll’s thunderous, grumble of a voice beckoned Lukas to enter. Glancing back to Finland, Norway gestured with a motion of his head for Finland to enter before him, and as he watched the smaller man shuffle lifelessly into the room, Norway casted narrowed eyes down both ends of the corridor before entering the room himself, and closing the door to lock it.
The room was a bedroom, simple, yet possessed the most vital property that Lukas was looking for, and for what he presumed persuaded Alv to chose this room as well; the room had an adjoining bathroom. The room was smaller compared to others Norway had seen in this house, with a double-sized bed, large wardrobe, a simple brick fireplace, a couch, and a single chair in the corner by a small bureau. Finland was sort of just standing beside the door when Lukas shut it behind him, and Norway took one look at him, before he set off to work. Sheathing his sword as he stepped forward, deeming that with Alv they should be fine but in reality, his hand was bleeding all over the hilt and fucking hurt. Lukas pressed the back of his knuckles against Fin’s back to usher him forward towards the bathroom just as Alv was moving the couch to block the door.
Stepping in front of Tino, Lukas entered the small bathroom and flicked on the lights. A tub stood in the corner opposite the toilet, while the sink and counter was nearest to the door. The Norwegian’s eyes wandered upwards to look above the tub, and when he saw the showerhead, he continued forward to stop in front of the toilet before turning to face Tino. “Sit,” he said motioning towards the closed toilet before moving aside to be by the tub, and slowly and stiffly, sat on the rim of the tub. With his left side still hanging dead at his side, Lukas reached over to turn the baths handle to begin the soothing sound of cascading water as Tino came to sit in his peripheral vision.
At first Lukas had intended to actually put Tino into a bath, but all he had to do was glance over to the in to see the state in which his legs were in, to see that wallowing in dirty water was not the best idea. Pulling outwards on the handle, the flow of water ceased to sprout form the faucet, but instead the gentle rain form the shower began. The shower’s water was gentler than the faucets and Lukas was much more comfortable with placing his injured hand beneath the water stream to feel for the temperature. Norway flinched when the water touched his bleeding, blistered hand and with much awkwardness and a good bite of his lip, he raised up his left arm slowing to wash the blood and dirt off of both palms in an attempt to clean his wounds.
Once the water was about lukewarm in temperature, for too hot could put Tino’s cold body into shock and the poor guy was cold enough as it is, Lukas removed his hands, dried them carefully on a nearby towel on a rack, and reached into his pocket for the white, leather gloves of his costume he had placed there before the window incident, and carefully put them on. Looking over at Tino, again taking a long moment to acces the extent of is friend’s injuries now that the were in the light, a sad tinge glazed Lukas’ eyes, yet he said in his cool, even voice, “Get in the tub, legs facing away from the drain”.
Leaning his head back as he waited for the Fin to obediently do what he asked, coldness eased itself into Norway’s chest and he knew others would call this fear. Sure, he understood that Finland had gone through hell and he didn’t actually know how long he had been down in that well, but such an experience could break a man, crack anyone’s sanity, and it was this reason Norway felt fear… His eyes following the Fin’s journey form the toilet seta, over the rim, and to finish in a sitting position in the basin of the tub, beneath the column of water, and Lukas took his time to simply watch as dark rivers of dirt and grime slithered their ways down Tino’s back from his hair and body. He took this time to undo the buttons of his coat one by one with his sole hand to ease out of the thick garment, minding his left arm extremely. Next his removed his neck scarf, and finally went to unbuttoning his white pirate undershirt and removing that too and dropping it into his clothes pile, along with his hat.
Shirtless now, Lukas now had the chance to see the full extent of ripening colours forming across his arms skin; his bruises matched the ones Finland had. After a few minutes, Norway sat up a bit, his body resisting, to lean forward and grabbed the small bottle on a shelf in the wall that read, ‘shampoo’. Lukas emptied almost half of the small bottle onto Tino’s head before tossing it, pulled Finland towards him a bit so his head escaped the rinse of water, and using his right hand, began to lather and scrub Tino's head, intensifying in vigorously until the soap was gray. Lukas, being the elder brother to Island, was comfortable with taking care of someone and was surprisingly gentle with his methods, and it wasn’t long before he pushed Tino’s head beneath the water once more to rinse off.
Norway instructed Tino that he can wash the rest of his body himself and to mind his leg ad to keep his knees raised. Raising himself off of the rim, his million of aches all shouting in protest, Lukas trudged over towards the sink and removed his gloves to rinse them in the sink and wash out the blood. That done, he looked up into the mirror to gaze into his own reflection and he had to admit, he looked like shit, with dark and tired eyes, messed up hair, and an expression that looked drained of its usual hardness. Sighing, Lukas decided to try his luck and opened up the mirror and was actually surprised to see a large bottle of peroxide, bandage wrap, tape, and scissors all stacked neatly on the shelves/
‘I swear… this house wants to kill all of us, yet wants to keep us healthy at the same time… to kill us all over again it seems’.
Taking the peroxide and undoing the cap, with a little difficulty, Lukas glanced to check on Tino before spilling the liquid over first his left palm, following quickly by his right. A loud gasp sounded in the bathroom and Lukas groaned slightly as the sharpness of the cleaning agent lashed into his open wounds and soon white foamy bubbles arose form the torn skin. Gritting his teeth, he took the bandage wrap and went to wrapping each hand quickly before cutting the bandage and tapping the ends, treating the wounds.
With that over, Lukas once more looked to Tino, to find that the man hadn’t really moved and was still staring dully at the opposing wall. A deep frown formed on Norway’s lip and a furrow creased his brow; anger bubbled up from his chest and he grabbed the bottle and strode over to the tub. “Tino, turn this way”, he said with an angry tinge to his voice and gruffly kneeled down facing the tub. He had had it with Tino’s silence, with his attitude, and was sick of the cold worry in his chest! He was so tired, oh so tired of everything this place had put him through and was so not mentally able to tend to a brain-dead Tino and goddamnit, he was about to get his wake up call.
Reaching over, Lukas turned off the water, and faced Tino and said, “I swear if this doesn’t wake you up…” not knowing really how to finish this sentence, Norway hardened his expression and dumped the entire bottle onto Finland’s bitten, scratched up legs and braced himself for the explosion that he hoped would follow.
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Post by Finland (x) on May 5, 2012 13:06:14 GMT -6
While Norway was cautiously moving down the hall, Tino simply traced his steps. Tino however, had a bit more of an awkward shuffle going on as he tried to favour both legs. Tino was injured yes, but his blank mind wasn't sensing pain on the radar. In fact, nothing was showing up on it as Tino kept sluggishly chugging along. His body itself was registering his fatigue though, as his steps became more and more crippled as Lukas moved along. Luckily enough, they stopped at a door, but it proved to be useless as the older Nordic continued.
The two (or, three if you counted Alv) finally stopped at what seemed like a suitable room. After blankly staring at the Norwegian who stopped and waited for no reason at the door, Tino blinked. It could be taken as a normal involuntary action, but Tino had not done so since he had been pulled from the hell pit. These little... 'actions' that Tino began to display were slowly increasing. As if the Fin were not totally lost. At the same time though, none of these actions were really that complex and could just be by-products of instinct. After all, he still possessed a brain and a body. If all else failed, he could regress to the hardwired primitive motives that humans had many years ago. Eat, sleep, drink, survive. Though, at the moment, even those were out of Tino's reach.
After Norway's gesture to enter the room, Tino hobbled forward. His gait was becoming more and more stressed as blood trickled from the nasty sets of bite marks that had stabbed his legs. Lukas probably hadn't noticed, but Tino had left a trail of droplets and smears ever since he had begun walking. The need for an increased circulation had caused the bleeding to flow more heavily until Tino's injuries clotted. He had never been gushing pints of blood, but he didn't just have a papercut. It probably looked worse than it was at the moment from all the dried blood, but it was nothing to shake a stick at.
Tino stood for a few moment before being pushed forward ever so gently by Lukas. Tino didn't protest the action as he was lead into a bright white room. His eyes wandered ever so slightly before he squatted to settle on a porcelain toilet. His body relaxed just a tad, relieved to not have to stand. His eyelids drooped a bit as he huddled forward, staring ahead. His mind was still blank and thoughtless, but the sound of gushing water filled his head. Turning his neck, Tino's dull eyes fell on the back of Lukas's form as he watched a clear liquid pour from an old faucet. He stared at it for a few moments, before turning his head back to its original position and fixated his gaze on the wall before him. He was not left to stay like that for long, as Norway's next command cut through the silence.
Tino stood, but this time was met with some resistance. His legs... or rather, his whole body did not want to move. His legs were achy and cramping after exertion, while the injuries were just beginning to heal. Even in his state, Tino was still a personification of a country and had remarkable healing abilities. Granted, the healing was minor and would not be completed for at least a few days, but it was still a major improvement over a normal human.
Tino staggered from the toilet to the tub, not making eyes contact with Lukas once. Slipping into the white tub, Tino's eyes flashed once when he made contact with the water. The substance was warm, especially when placed against Tino's cold flesh. Tino himself was pretty resilient against the chilling effects of cold temperature and thus, had not felt how cold the pit of the well had been. The air that he had lingered in for days (he had been unconscious for the grant majority of his stay) was chilly and damp. Coupled with the fact that the bodies that Tino had been in company with were as cold as death, it was no surprise that Tino's skin prickled as it was splashed with a warmth that leeched the chill from his non-responsive body.
The cold wasn't the only thing that drained from Tino's form. A grimy trail of dirt, decay and old blood trickled down the Finnish man's back as the clear water turned brown. Tino had to blink a few times as the filth trickled from his hair into his face and eyes. Though annoying, Tino glanced around the bottom of the white, or what was once white, tub. The warm water did wonders to remove the layers of grime that were caked onto the man's body. The smell that stubbornly clung to Tino was loosening as well, but by now the two were probably used to it. Besides, most of the smell came from Tino's clothes and hair. The former had been shed at the opening of the well, the latter currently being doused in shampoo as Lukas tugged Tino's head from the stream of warm water. Lukas probably didn't notice, but Tino subtly protested the motion, as the warmth that the water provided was something that the mute seemed to like.
Lukas didn't hold back on Tino's locks as he scrubbed almost vigorously to remove the ingrained filth. However, as hard as the Norwegian was scrubbing, he was still gentle. The Fin let out a silent sigh as his skull tingled from the merciless rubbing. Sooner then later, Tino was pushed back into the warming shower of water. He closed his eyes this time as ribbons of grey suds trickled over his face and shoulders. His scalp almost felt raw from the cleansing as water washed out the remaining bubbles.
A new command filled the air as Lukas turned towards the mirror. Tino, like the obedient little doll he was, complied. He had been instructed to wash himself carefully, being cautious around his injuries. Tino complied as he began to run his hands over each other. His hands and face had gotten the worst of the crap, as every other body part was housed in his now-discarded costume. Tino also tended to his legs ever so gently. Even in his thoughtless state, his hands were very cautious about his injuries. The skin was torn and tender. Tino's mask flinched as he allowed a small amount of warm water to lapse as the edges. It was just enough to help clean the majority of the blood and dirt away, but the lobotomized man did not venture any further to thoroughly wash the puncture marks.
After finishing, Tino's rigid body relaxed back under the stream as his eyes fell against the wall. He had began blinking more frequently as his motions moved away from mechanical and more towards human. Apparently though, Lukas didn't notice these minor changes as he turned with an aura of anger. He barked another order this time as he moved towards the tub, jamming the handle into the 'closed' position. Tino turned as the verge of a frown almost made its way onto his placid expression, but did not. The Fin almost shifted away Lukas as the threat sounded through the still air. Tino didn't have time to sluggishly prepare himself for what was to come, especially since he couldn't really process what Lukas had planned.
If Lukas wanted a wake-up call, he sure as hell got it. The instant that the clear liquid made contact with Tino's open wounds was the instant that Tino broke his doll-like slump and snapped back into full consciousness. Tino's whites went wide as life burst back into his previously dull violet orbs. White hot pain surged through ever fibre in his lower body and quickly spread throughout the rest of his small body. Tino hollered involuntarily as his hands shot to the edges of the white tub to steady himself.
It didn't stop there. Tino's body, arms and knotted stomach trembled as if he were withholding a seizure as he tried with all his might to not flop into the bowels of the tub and convulse with the waves of pain that stabbed every inch of his brain. He choked on his own spit as he snapped his jaw shut, but that only muffled the pained howls that rose up from his chest. His knuckles went white as Tino forgot the meaning of restraint. The sound of cracking filled the air as spider-like cracks etched their way onto the edges of the tub where Tino tried to steady himself.
Black crept at the edges of Tino's eyesight as he redefined the term 'tunnel-vision'. Lukas's expression and presence were blackened out as Tino's vision hollowed to pin points on the wall. His already white knuckles tightened their grip on the tub as Tino felt dizziness roll over his head. The pain was so intense that it drained the colour from his face and threatened to cause the Finnish man to pass out. However, Tino clung to the tub as if his life depended on it and forced himself to stay upright. His cries settled into pained gasps as sweat and leftover water from the shower trickled down his brow. Ever so slowly, his field of vision began to grow.
Tino's laboured breathing didn't slow as his ribs appeared then disappeared with each heaving breath. His violet eyes were strained as his rigid arms kept his upper body afloat. Tino's vision was blurred and unfocused as his head hung between his shoulders. He could barely make out the outlines of his barren legs, but he could notice the white film lining that coated his injuries. Tino's eyelids closed as his breathing finally began to calm. The pain slowly ebbed away as the effects of the disinfectant gradually wore away. However, the injuries still felt raw and bitterly exposed from the overflow of pain. After a few seconds, Tino reopened his eyes and turned to Lukas.
At first, Tino didn't recognize him. Instinct took over as Tino's eyes resembled a frightened, injured animal. The onslaught of sheer pain and panic ripped through the defensive shield that Tino had set up and left him confused and in pain. The reaction was brief though, as Tino's expression relaxed and recognition crept into his violet eyes. He stared for a moment, his stance and expression so much more alive than before, before his mouth open slightly and he tried to speak. Nothing came out the first time, so Tino swallowed and tried again. “Lukas...” he murmured, as his wide gaze sank from the Norwegian's face to his upper body.
Norway was shirtless and it wasn't like the Fin had never seen Norge without a shirt, but this time, Norway was hurt. Badly. Deep purple bruising stretched across the joint and faded down his arm. Such an injury would have resulted from some terrible accident. What had... happene-
Everything flooded back in and it hit the Fin almost as hard as the peroxide did. The well, the horrors, the panic and pain, the bodies... Tino's eyes went even wider (if that was even possible at this point) as his head fell as he was left to stare as the dirty tub floor. That wasn't all a nightmare... it was real... it really happened... Tino's eyes rose to stare at himself. Yes... the bruises, the cuts and his mangled legs were all proof that he hadn't dreamt up some horrible story. Tino sighed as he released the tub to cradle his head in his hands. “Voihan paska... että todellisuudessa tapahtui...” he murmured, not realizing that he had spoken in his native tongue.
Tino gradually looked up, still stunned by the fact that that... that... nightmare was actually real. “Luke.. are you... okay..?” he asked slowly, glancing cautiously at his friend's badly bruised arm and bandaged hands. Not only was Lukas physically marred, but Tino could see the differences in his friend's face. Norway usually had a cool, calm mask shielding his emotions, but Tino couldn't ignore the fatigue that hung from Norway's face, especially around his eyes. Tino wasn't the only one in a shitty state. Norway looked just as bad as he did. [Translation: "Voihan paska... että todellisuudessa tapahtui..." : "Holy shit... that really happened"]
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Post by Deleted on May 6, 2012 21:14:26 GMT -6
The second before he poured, there was a moment of hesitation in Lukas’ actions. He knew that this course of action could prove dangerous and was not exactly the wisest decision, that he could seriously injure Tino further, but… He didn’t want to admit it, but when people spoke or whispered that Norway didn’t care much about anything save for his country, his brother, and his fellow Nordics, (though Denmark was a more if a grey area), there was at least some length of truth in their words. As small as this truth may be, Lukas wouldn’t call himself selfish or cruel for he was strongly and loyally family-oriented, he just didn’t give a whole lot of thought to other people’s concerns. So the question relating: did Lukas care when he poured the hydrogen peroxide onto Tino’s many open wounds?
His gaze watched each moment from when the clear liquid left the space of its brown bottle to its point of impact upon the Finnish man’s inflamed, torn skin. In that moment, Lukas felt an icy cold wave consume his body: regret. He knew that hydrogen peroxide was not the best way to treat a possible bacterial infection, that cool water and soap would have been best, but the previous question arises once more; did he care? Lukas was exhausted, beyond exhausted actually, and his mere force of will was all that was left to propel him forward, that and the need to care for his injured friend. Did that mean he cared or did it mean that he was simply acting out of habit for caring for a fellow country?
The truth is Lukas did care, deeply, and within him, as Tino’s screams of pain arose in volume to consume the small space within the bathroom, guilt mixed with his regret and sorrow settled deep within his heart, as all he could do was watch. The deed was done, his previous anger smothered, and he stared with sad eyes as Finland transformed in an instant from the lifeless, mechanical doll he had been since his rescue from the well, to a man immersed in pain and it was all his fault. Lukas remained where he kneeled, beside the wall of the tub, the empty bottle in his hand, and observed the levels of reaction Tino went through, almost in stages.
First, there was the initial shock, like a frozen river breaking through an ice waterfall in the spring melts, with Tino’s violet eyes going wide and being zapped back into life. Following this came the resulting tightening and tension of Finland’s entire body as every nerve ending registered the burn of the liquid compound against his skin cells of his legs. Lukas knew that he may have initiated the immense scarring that could envelop Fin’s legs or could even prolong healing but they were countries so they did heal faster…. But how human had they become?’ Had they lost this ability too, somehow, someway while they’ve been fighting for their lives in this hellhole?
These questions and more flooded Lukas’ cramped, hurting head and still, he watched and listened to Finland. Only at the sounds of cracking did he break eye contact and his attention darted towards the breaking porcelain of the tub beneath Tino’s grip. Interesting…. Perhaps they still indeed retained some aspect of their national identities, though this brought him little to no relief or joy. Directing his dreary, blue-violet eyes back to Tino’s face, he noticed the intense paleness in the other man’s complexion, the clench of his jaw, and the slight drift of his head from side to side; Tino looked that he might just pass out at any second.
‘Perhaps he should… at least then he wouldn’t hurt anymore…’ Even the thoughts of the Norwegian resounded a tone of hopelessness, guilt, and hollowness, but above all fatigue. If Tino were to collapse, Lukas knew he wouldn’t be able to carry him out, even with his small size, his injured left arm would not allow this as a possibility. He’d have to call Alv in from the other room to personally transport the unconscious Fin into the other room to the bed, a favor Norway knew his troll companion wouldn’t particularly enjoy doing. The green forest troll enjoyed Norway’s company and would do almost anything for him; however, involving himself with other nations made the troll feel... uncomfortable at best.
Fortunately it appeared that Tino was fighting against falling into the darkness of unconsciousness and seemed to be steadily stabilizing his condition as the burn of the hydrogen peroxide subsided. Norway had not moved the entire time, wallowing in his emotions behind his aloof mask, and trying not to fall asleep right then and there. Tino’s body gradually relaxed, his grip appeared to lessen from the sides of the tub and focusing his gaze on Finland’s closed eyes, Norway’s stare was there to meet the Fins’ when they were revealed as his lids opened.
What Lukas saw now compared to what he saw in Tino’s eyes by the well; it was life and brightness that Tino was famous for, or at least something near to it. The Fin looked just as tired as Lukas felt, for he had been through lot, and Lukas’ chemical application hadn’t made Tino’s journey back to life easy, but at least he wasn’t catatonic anymore. At this moment, Norway knew he could not blame his anger and frustration on his decision, he had hurt Tino intentionally for the greater good, and thankfully he had got the outcome he had hoped for. Guilt was the greatest threat against his conscious at the moment, but wariness crept into his eyes when he saw Tino shy away from him…. he didn’t blame him.
Norway still couldn’t stop the hurt from seeping into his face as well as the fresh wave of guilt against his heart; he deserved it. Finally dropping his eyes, telling himself that more had to be done for Tinos sake before he could wallow in his own self-pity and guilt, like getting Tino dried and his legs dressed. Finally moving, pain screaming form his cramped up, bruised muscles, Norway was beginning to stand when he froze when he heard his name uttered.
“Lukas...”
Looking up, the Norwegian watched as Tino’s gaze wandered over his exposed body and settled on his left arm, before something seemed to snap or something inside the Fin’s mind, for his eyes went wide once more, though this time without pain. Recognition was what to be found in the Finnish man’s eyes now, and this was evident as Lukas watched him looked down towards his own body to see what state he was in himself. It wasn’t pity that softened Lukas’ features subtly, but worry and concern, though the feeling was so well hidden in Norway’s eyes that he doubted Finland would notice.
“Voihan paska... että todellisuudessa tapahtui...”
Norway was fluent in all of his fellow Nordics’ languages, though he admitted that Finland’s was the most difficult for it didn’t really resemble his own language really at all, though he still understand what Tino had said. These words only proved to Lukas that Finland was truly coming around and realizing all that he’d been through, and what Lukas had been through for his sake. “Luke.. are you... okay..?”
Initially, all Tino received for an answer was silence as Lukas considered lying to the Fin. It would’ve been very easy for him to simply shrug off Tino’s inquiry and tell him that he was fine and that everything would be fine; however, Tino was not Iceland, Norway didn’t have to sugar coat the truth like he did with his younger brother to protect him, because Tino was nearly as old as Norway was, so Lukas knew that Tino could handle the truth maturely. Still, as an elder brother, lying was sometimes easier than telling the truth if you’re trying to protect someone. Sighing, Norway’s inner dialogue and decision-making was not in any way helping his tired mind, so in the end, he concluded that he was actually too weary to care. He stood as he returned his gaze to Finland, and said bluntly, “Nei, Finland…. I’m not, I’m far from fine, but don’t worry about me”.
Reaching over with his right arm, he grabbed the twin towel beside the one he had used earlier, fighting off a wince when he flexed his injured hand, before draping it over the edge of the tub for Fin to use. Going back over to the sink, he continued speaking, “I want you to dry yourself off… I don’t want you catching a cold wet as you are”. Grabbing the bandage wrap, tape and scissors all with his right hand, Lukas also noticed that there was a large tube of antibacterial gel in the cabinet too, and grabbed that as well, before stiffly dropping to his knee to face Tino once more.
“Once dry, spread the gel over your wounds to keep them moist, though I’m sure you know all about binding wounds…” waving himself off, Lukas, handed over the items and sighed, looking down at his left arm and frowning. “I would aid you, Tino but…. I can’t, not right now. Later, I’ll help you redress them though”. Running a hand over his face, almost feeling with his fingers the grooves of exhaustion etched into his face, Lukas gripped the side of the tub to help himself up. It was proving more and more difficult to move as his bruises further developed and muscles tightened. He tried not to show his pain for he truly believed that he had nothing to complain about.
Asserting himself as tall as he could, to set an image to Finland that he could be relied on, Norway gazed down at the Fin, shirtless as he was, and with his only able hand, began to undo the lace of his tight, pirate costume pants. He intended to have a rather short shower of his own once Finland had left the room, and also wash his clothing. Before, when he was alone, he did manage to shower a few times, though seriously for only a few seconds, if only to wash of the grime. Now, he planned on having an actual shower, one where he could forget about where he was for at least a little while, and all he’s been through, and maybe even relax a bit. The latter seemed far off, but it was a nice notion to think about.
“If you need help getting to the other room, I can offer a hand, but I want you to try and find some clothes. I saw a wardrobe in the corning so maybe you’ll get lucky. While you can’t see him, Alv is in the other room and will protect you if anything should happen…”
It sounded lame but Lukas had no way to finish that sentence with anything but the real possibility that anything could happen. They were far from safe in fact they were back in the belly of the beats so to speak, but at least this beast came with comforts as well as death. Once more, Norway’s mind drifted back to his previous notion that the house would provide for them if needed, yet was always trying to kill them. Thinking about it, it seemed perfectly clever in the blonds’ mind: by keeping your prisoners alive longer, you could enjoy their struggle for survival and torture much more.
It was a sick, twisted cycle that worked, that worked very well. Hanging his hand off of his waistband, leaning against the counter, he gazed down at Finland and waited. He went over in his mind not only what all he had been through in this house, all he could remember at least, but also what had happened in the last…. Few hours? One hour? It was impossible to tell, in this place at least. Time was distorted and warped within this Manor, so Lukas didn’t dwell on the chronological aspect for long. Somewhere in the back of Lukas’ mind, he knew that he would soon be immersed in a cool shower, and after that… perhaps even asleep in a bed. Sleep in this house consisted of going till you dropped, or naps, so falling asleep with Finland beside him…. sounded like heaven in hell.
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Post by Finland (x) on May 7, 2012 13:36:48 GMT -6
Silence.
From anyone other than Lukas, Tino would immediately recognize it as a bad thing. The pale man's face darkened as he got no response other than a prolonged stare away from him, like Norway was debating his words or something. What? Was he that pitiful that Norway needed to decide whether to lie to him or not?
... Honestly, Tino could see where the Norwegian was coming from. His mind wasn't only swimming with the pain of peroxide and the thoughts accompanying this brief conversation. No, other things trickled in to his chain of thoughts. Mainly, memories and oddly enough, sensations. His skin would prickle in places, like his arms or legs where he felt like someone was latching onto him. Were such thoughts spelled out on his face? Tino's eyes hardened as he tried to push the nagging emotions and pain away. The sensations? Well... they weren't real. He ignored them to the best of his abilities as he stared up, focusing on Lukas's expression as the older Nordic sighed and redirected his gaze to him.
“Nei, Finland…. I’m not, I’m far from fine, but don’t worry about me”
Tino knew it was bad and expected it to be bad, but he still kind of wished that Norway had lied to him. Lukas was usually blunt and often didn't hide a lot of things, but here... Tino almost wanted him to. When Lukas didn't, it gave Tino a sense of dread. The bags under his ally's eyes and the way that he moved suggested that Lukas was in a lot of pain and under a whole lot of stress. The stoic nation had warned him not to worry, but how could he not? Tino clearly wasn't the only one hurt here. What was worse... was that Lukas was injured on account of him. Lukas wasn't defending himself, or his brother, but Tino. Yes, they were Nordics and all, but Lukas wouldn't have such blistered hands or such a battered arm if he hadn't tried to help Tino.
Now came the hard decision. Would he rather have stayed down in that pit, or be where he was now with the weight of his friend's injuries pressing on his shoulders? Tino didn't know. He knew he would have died down there if he was left without aid. Lukas had saved his life, and for that, Tino would be forever grateful. Now though, Lukas had put himself at risk. What if they were attacked? Tino was still in no shape to fight, and now, Lukas wouldn't be either. What if the Norwegian died because he couldn't defend himself. Tino lowered his violet gaze as he swallowed the lump in his throat.
A towel was tossed his way as Lukas spent no time wallowing in guilt and pity like Tino was. Lukas's words were blunt and flat, as always, but that didn't sooth Tino's rollarcoaster-like emotions. Instead, a new seed buried itself in his brain.
Did Lukas hate him?
It was possible... Tino had been nothing but excess baggage to the Norwegian since he had helped him from death's clutches. Was Tino at the point where he had strained their relationship to its limits? He wouldn't doubt it... Tino picked up the cloth slowly, gently towel-drying his hair when a new source of pain impaled his thoughts, skewering them like meat on a stick. Tino repressed a hiss of pain as the towel fell to his thighs. Glaring accusingly at his wrist, the point of yet another source of pain radiated from. It was swelling and coloured many different hues, but he could see the clear imprints of a hand. Yes.. he had been gripped by a bony hand and it had nearly crushed his wrist as he tried to climb that ragged old rope. Tino bit his lip as he moved to dry other parts of his body. He tried to not allow the pain to rise to his face. Lukas was probably fed up with Tino's cries as it was. He didn't need to alert Lukas to another source of pain. Gingerly wiping the excess water away, Tino looked up as Lukas's eyes were at his level as the older had knelt down. He nearly flinched away as Lukas didn't move forward to lash out at him or anything, but present a couple of healing items that would hopefully help quicken Tino's healing and prevent infection. Tino clamped his jaw together, forcing a small smile as he extended his left, injured hand. Mentally swearing enough to make a child's ears bleed, Tino took the items while keeping his small smile level. He tucked the limb and the items that it held against his chest with an appreciative nod. Tino didn't trust his voice enough to speak.
Lukas once again, uttered a hollow instruction. Tino repressed a frown. He was not totally useless. He had dressed wounds many, many times before and he was sure that Norway knew that. When they lived together ages ago, Sweden and Denmark would fight constantly and Tino would always patch up the Swede. Had Norway thought that Tino was so helpless that he needed instruction on how to take care of himself? Tino tried to not let the words get to him, but he was slightly offended. Perhaps the Norwegian really was angry with him. Tino rose his gaze to see Lukas surveying his arm and informing Tino that he could not help him at the moment. Tino closed his eyes, shaking his head stubbornly at the suggestion.
“No it's okay. I can do it myself,” he said as he shifted his weight. Patting his face with the surprisingly fluffy towel, Tino watched as Lukas rose painfully. It was easily for the Fin to see, as Lukas's movements were normally so graceful and smooth. Any hint of choppiness or resistance meant that Lukas was certainly not okay, but Tino could tell that from looking at his injuries. Tino glanced up at the man, feeling intimidated by his sudden height. Tino was usually towered over, but at the moment, he was huddled half naked in a tub, feeling looked down upon by his friend (both literally and metaphorically). Tino lowered his gaze as Lukas started to undo his pants. At another time, Tino might have gone red with embarrassment, but he knew that Lukas was probably longing to shower.
Using his right hand, Tino reached over to grasp the edge of the tub. The other seemed to notice his intentions as he spoke, offering aid if Tino needed it. Tino looked up to meet the navy blue gaze as he shook his head. His body, his mind, and now his pride were hurting. He didn't need to throw more salt on the wound as he pushed up, his weight balanced by his shoulder. He tried to straighten his wounded muscles to push himself up, but could not. Tino bit down as he slipped, his shaky legs screaming with pain as he sank back into the tub.
Red burned in his cheeks as shame flared in his mind. Trying once more with a little more force, he got himself up and over the tub wall, staggering as his right hand found the wall for support. His legs had been folded for so long that the mere attempt at extending them had been unbearable. Putting weight on them and walking? The pain caused white stars to spike Tino's vision, but he remained afloat as he hobbled awkwardly past Lukas. “I'll be fine. Have a nice shower,” Tino uttered through tight lips as his pride was the only pillar that he currently stood on. One step at a time, Tino edged himself along the wall until he reached the door. Clinging to it as he exited the bathroom, he closed it with a small 'click' before his legs just couldn't hold his weight anymore.
Tino broke the fall with his good hand as the tube, bandages and all spilled from his grip and clattered across the floor. Tino's eyes widened as he fought back a holler of pain; he had done enough of that today for his own liking. It took a few moments for the intense agony to subside, but when it did, Tino let out a shaky breath. He looked back to the door, wondering if Lukas had heard, but bit back uttering 'I'm okay!' He had bothered Lukas enough for now... He needed to give the nation some space.
Tino sighed and looked up, groaning at the fact that the wardrobe was on the other side of the room. There was no way he'd be able to walk that far, especially without a wall. How he got from the well to this room was a mystery. Tino couldn't remember all that well, but he was sure that Nor could not carry him. Not that he wanted to be hoisted around anyways. Collecting the dropped items, Tino tossed them in the towel and made a makeshift carrier that looped around his torso. Using his both arms, Tino began to drag his painful ass across the wooden floors. Luckily, his baby blue boxers were soaked and made sliding easily. Unluckily, Tino's left wrist was pounding his brain with so much pain that he had to resort to coddling the limb against his chest and using his right arm. He was mindful of his legs, as he kept his knees raised enough so that the torn skin would not drag.
After what seemed like ages, Tino's back slumped against the wardrobe. Exhausted, the Fin took a moment to catch his breath and wipe away the sweat from his brow. He still wasn't entirely dry, but the air was slowly wicking away the moisture. Reaching up, Tino pulled open one of the drawers and tenderly reached in with his bad hand, as his right arm was too fatigued to rise higher than his shoulder.
Tino yelped as something snapped onto his hand, right around the meaty part of his thumb. Angrily jerking the limb back, Tino snarled as he pried of the mouse trap that had gleefully snapped closed on his digits. Tino should have been grateful that it didn't break anything, but instead, he angrily spat, “Oh fuck you,” and whipped the device across the room as it clunked against the papered walls.
Thoroughly pissed off and in even more pain, Tino rolled onto his knees and ignored the strain of his leg muscles as he forced himself up. Enough was enough. Tino did not need the Manor to be toying with him right now, or so help him, he'd return with an AK-47 and demolish the building. Ripping open the next drawer, Tino was surprised to find a set of clothes, which somewhat subsidized Tino's rage. Carefully inserting his hands around the fabric, he felt no more traps as he pulled the cloth from the drawer. The bed was closer that anything, so Tino painfully shuffled over to it before flopping on the comforter. Giving himself a moment to rest once more, Tino began to examine his findings. So help him, if it were a dress...
Luckily enough, it wasn't. Tino sighed with relief as he unfolded a small black muscle shirt that was indeed his size. As well, he found a pair of white boxers and some khaki, light brown pants. Lastly though, was the biggest surprise. Tino's eyes hardened as he held up a white hooded cloak, examining the clasp on the front. It was exactly like the one he used to wear, during the Winter War. Pressing his lips into a fine line, he looked up at the ceiling. “You really enjoy toying with me, don't you?” he spat, pushing the cloak aside. Anger rekindled, Tino managed to shimmy out of his last piece of clothing, dry himself, then commence redressing. First the boxers, then the pants. They were extremely tricky as he had to be very cautious in pulling the material over his open injuries. He managed, with a few swears here and there, but housed himself in fabric. The cloak remained at the foot of the bed, untouched for now.
Tino then moved to lift his aching legs up for bandaging, but found that he just didn't have the energy. Flopping back on the mattress, he decided that he'd rest for a minute or two, then redress his injuries. The airing wouldn't hurt either, as he had rolled the cuffs of the pant legs up to his knees. With a sigh, Tino closed his eyes. He found no pleasure in the act though, as restless thoughts that had taken the back-seat to his agonizing pain began to emerge. The well. The horrors. The premature burial. Anticipation prickled the man's skin as he balled his fingers into fists. Bad move. He instantly regretted it, as he was reminded of his swollen joint. At least the pain overcame the memories, if only briefly.
As expected, once the pain quieted, the images came back. Tino sighed sadly, sitting up and bringing his knees to his chest. He hugged his limbs gently, taking comfort that he could still hold himself together. He was throbbing everywhere and beyond exhausted, but he wasn't sure if he'd sleep tonight. Or... ever again in his life.
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Post by Deleted on May 8, 2012 6:52:17 GMT -6
Lukas watched the shorter Finnish man struggle the few steps across the bathroom floor, clutching with sore limbs his towel, medical supplies, and dignity, before making it to the door and closing it behind him. He truly hadn’t had any issue with helping Tino, but Lukas understood that the Fin wanted to act on his own accord, though he may risk injuring himself further. Pride was a factor that countries thrived on; it was their lifeblood in some sorts, not including their peoples of course. Pride was what influenced countries to act, to react, and in this place, pride was something that the Manor would have to try very hard to take.
‘Still…. Here’s a line between pride and foolhardiness…’ Norway thought with an exasperated sigh as he heard the thud and clatter of a body and items hitting the floor clearly through the wood of the door. Indecision flickered across the Norwegians features and he took a step forward towards the door as if to go aid the fallen Finnish man; he didn’t though. There was no use of opening the door, possibly hitting Tino with it, and asking him once more if he needed help. Hell… Tino may even snap at him if he did that and Lukas knew he wouldn’t be helping his fellow Nordic at all if he did nothing but embarrass and nerve-wrack him any further. Tino had been through enough in that one night alone, and Norway wasn’t blind, he saw how much Tino wanted to be left alone, to mull over his own thoughts and lick his own wounds so to speak.
Speaking of which, Lukas had his own wounds to see to and he knew that he’d just be indulging into hypocrisy if he sought out Tino to help him up or something for he too wished to be alone in the state that he was in. Normally, aside form being trapped within this house of hell, Norway rather preferred to be by himself to anything, save for perhaps the company of the forest troll and other supernatural creatures. In here however, the nation had found that being alone was not the wisest of choices and prolonged solitude wore down sanity much faster than if he were to travel with a fellow county. The trouble Norway found however, was finding other countries. Lukas had wondered literally for days throughout the entire Manor without bumping into anyone. It was only because of Alv that he had been there to save Tino, and yet now both were seeking seclusion as means to regroup… If Norway cared to dwell on the whole thing further, he’d find it all to be illogically confusing and contrasting. However, he in fact didn’t care, he wanted to be alone, and so proceeded to finish unlacing his pants before slipping them off somehow with his one arm, and going over to the tub to turn on the water once more.
Taking his bruises into consideration, Lukas adjusted the temperature of the shower stream to a cooler one, so that he may control some of the swelling in his arm. Running his fingers beneath the water however, feeling the chill creep across his skin, Norway found that the touch of the water annoyed him to the point where he could feel anger seize his blood. Why the hell should he immerse himself in cold water when there was perfectly good hot water available? This house was providing for them after all, providing all of the comforts of a monster-infested hotel, so why shouldn’t he indulge and perhaps enjoy a hot shower before he died?
Lukas froze, hand still in the water of the shower. Had he really thought that? Actually indifferently refer to his own death, a country’s death, after living for around three thousand years, to die as a human? Frowning and shaking his head, Lukas reached over and turned to handle towards hot, straightened his tender body, stepped over the rim of the tub, and was struck by a thousand tiny jets of warming water. In an instant, pain burned across his skin mixed with the sensational massage of the water and Norway's mouth fell open, water filling it quickly, while his eyes closed and a small groan escaped his lips. The sound wasn’t from pain or to express discomfort, but simply out of bliss for this was the first time in this blasted hoarse Norway allowed himself to let his guard down and give himself a chance to relax.
This chance was not complete however and soon, the moment of bliss ended and Norway leaned back his head and opened his eyes. A flood of light pierced his retinas though he simply blinked away the distraction and his attention once more was directed to his aching body. The warm water was near hot now and burned every area of skin it touched, but damn did it feel good. His left arm was particularly the source of the greatest pain, for the swelling and bruises didn’t for the most part welcome the hot water but Lukas ignored the pain, at least it let him know he was still alive. He had definitely reminded Finland of that fact, that he still was breathing and shouldn’t give up to insanity because he had literally stared death in the face.
Jealousy arose from other parts of Lukas’ body however, for not too long after he had begun to actually start washing himself off, sudden jolts of pain erupted in his legs, making him gasp and it took all of his stability not to totally collapse and possibility hurt himself. He lowered himself into the tub and falling back onto his backside to stretch out his cramped up legs, Norway sat there for what seemed like along time. The shower flowed over his naked body, numbing it with its heat, until his blue-violet eyes flickered towards the drain and with his foot, he pushed in the stopper for the tub to begin to fill.
Water had always been apart of Norway: physically, historically, and metaphorically. His country was covered by many glaciers, for which he feared their eternal melting of, and as a coastal land, the ocean and sea had always been a second home to Lukas as much as his capital was. As a younger man, a younger country, he along with Denmark, Sweden, Finland, and a young Iceland, had sailed all across the Northern Sea, navigated rivers, conquered the Atlantic to land upon pre-Canadian soil, and maneuvered there way into the heart of Europe to reach as far as the Black Sea. Lukas loved to sail, loved the sea, and fishing has always been apart of his culture. Yet, with this love came a fear that resided deep within him and had actually been instituted by Denmark, though he swore it accidental.
It had happened at sea, they were all much younger, and in those days, Lukas smiled much more, felt much more, and fought a whole hell more and enjoyed it. They had been Vikings, Norway still was a Viking, though back then at their peak, they were the brutes of Europe and pillaging, burning, and looting villages was what thrilled them and kept their spirits burning as radiant as the gods. It had been a clear day, their ship had been in the middle of the North Sea, and Denmark, like usual, was goofing off and trying to show off to Sweden or something. The details exactly weren’t clear in Lukas’ mind, for what happened next consisted fr a rather hard oar in the Dane’s hands that hit Norway right in the temple and knocked him overboard into the freezing waters.
Lying there in the half-full tub of steaming water, a complete opposite to the salty waters the sea, Norway remembered the feeling of silent suspension, of being surrounded by nothing but water, and feeling the cold, saltiness of it fill his lungs. The blow to the head had knocked him out initially but by the time he had come to, he had been so disoriented and twisted by the sea’s current, he didn’t know up from down and was far beneath the surface due to his heavy attire and weaponry of the time. Terror had filled the young nation, and he recalled feeling nothing but regret that he wouldn’t be able to raise Island no longer, to be his brother, and if ever there was time that Norway cried, his tears joined the body of the Atlantic.
He had blacked out and the next thing he remembered was coughing uncontrollably on the deck of the ship, barely alive, and shivering from a deep set cold and fear. The events that followed his realization that he was alive was the involvement of both Sweden and Finland restraining him so he wouldn’t completely kill Denmark; him shouting both in rage and terror, and had only quieted when Iceland had begun to cry, to which he did not speak to anyone for over a week. To this day, Norway could not remember exactly who had rescued him, he had forgotten it to tell the truth, but ever since that day the idea and possibility of being submerged in water until he could no longer breathe, to drown, has haunted Lukas as his utmost fear.
Considering this, Lukas stretched out much to his leg’s discomfort to press against the handle of the faucet to switch to a steady stream of water instead of the shower, before turning the water completely off, casting him into silence save for a few droplets. The water level was about to his chest and was still fairly hot, but his body had adapted so that it felt just right. Staring blankly through the water’s distortion at his naked body, he took note of the variety of colours his bruising had shaded his skin with, especially on his left arm. He still couldn’t move the thing, and he knew that he would have to ask Finland to outfit him with a sling of sorts until his superior healing took control and gave back his arm. He would so fine without the arm; he was right-handed anyways, though it could prove to be quite troublesome if they were to be engaged to fight for their lives by some ravenous creature.
‘It would be a miracle for some of the other countries to survive this terrible nightmare… some of them are not cut out for these human conditions of blood, fear, and death’.
The inner dialogue made Norway shake his head. He didn’t think himself superior or anything, but he honestly could not think of how some countries could possible survive this place for very long, and that was the simple truth. This place was the physical embodiment of Darwinism, of survival of the fittest, and to conquer this place, if that was even a possibility, would require more than being a country. The more Norway thought about this endless, subjective, train of thought, the further his eyelids drooped, until suddenly, he snapped them open and found himself… on a ship.
The sea around him was calm, and Lukas felt even before he looked that his pirate outfit had been replaced by an attire of authenticity and that it was as familiar as his reflection. Garbed in the clothes of his youth, Lukas stood at the helm of a Viking ship and was once more one himself, with his hair lengthened into a braid, and fire set within his eyes that had yet to be extinguished with age and subordination. Nothing but the horizon’s expanse breached his vision and an inkling began to worm itself into his thought process that… he’d been here before, though not on the sea, but on this boat, alone, and that in itself didn’t feel right. Something or someone was missing and as much as he tried to enjoy the beauty of the day, he couldn’t shake the coldness in his stomach that something was amiss and that him being there was not right.
He tried to dismiss the feeling, but he just kept feeling colder and colder until he was almost freezing. Frowning, he threw on his fur cloak to try and combaten this chill just as the clouds darkened in the sky and the sea suddenly became choppy as the wind picked up with a gale. A storm thundered across the sky and the sea rocked and threw his little ship up and over massive twenty feet crests that honestly had appeared out of no where. He couldn’t react, how could he react? Lukas was still trying to comprehend as to why this all felt so wrong and fake. Just then, a rouge wave crept up from the starboard side and slammed into the side of the ship, sending Lukas cascading over the rail of the port side, hitting the water hard and falling beneath the waves.
Submerged, Lukas was amazed to see and feel that the sea was completely calm and gentle, unlike the storm raging just above the surface, and what astounded him more than anything, was the temperature of the sea. Instead of freezing cold, all around him he felt nothing but stimulating warmth that reached him to the core and oh it felt immaculate. Lukas was floating in a universe of sapphire and warmth and closing his eyes, he smiled as the pleasant image of his Nordic brothers and himself, all sitting around fire and gazing up at the stars while telling tales of greats deeds and the gods, came to his mind. A pressure rose up his chest that was surely pure happiness, until that is it began to hurt. At first it was nothing but a slight annoyance in his warm, watery world, but it quickly grew into a full out pain that struck his insides like a fiery blow of a heated sword.
His eyes shot open and instead of seeing the tranquil blue of the ocean, a wavering white light ringed with shadows greeted Norway’s vision and confusion and panic raised through his veins. Not knowing what was going on, he instinctively reached for his sword, but his knuckles met nothing but bare skin and his knuckles banged into something hard that made a sound the reverberated into the Norwegian’s ears. All of a sudden, everything fell into place and understanding jolted Lukas’ heartbeat into overdrive. He was still in the tub! He had fallen asleep and was under the water! Panic exploded through the blonds’ body, zapping his eyes wide open and shooting his hands upwards to grip the sides of the tub to pull himself upwards, and pull he did. However, Lukas did not move.
Something, something heavy was abruptly thrust onto Lukas’ chest just as he gripped the tub and was pushing downwards as he pulled upwards. Terror iced his blood momentarily before Norway began thrashing about trying to fight the invisible force that held him captive only a few inches beneath the surface of his bathwater. Pressure increased within his chest and Lukas realized that it was actually his lungs screaming for oxygen and as much as he was fighting to reach the element, he was trapped and was being drowned.
“Herregud! Nei! I won’t… Nei!” He screamed, casting upwards bubbles to breach the surface above his face, and not caring that his voice could not be heard, his words were distorted, and his screams consisted of the last reserves of air left in his lungs. His head was beginning to lighten and a sickening familiar feeling was drifting into his mind that brought forth once more the memory of that day in the waters of the North Sea and a voice whispered in his head that this time, he had no one there to pull him back onto the ship. The last few bubbles escaped the mouth of Norway, his eyes shifted open to see almost nothing, and the whiteness of his knuckles from his grip in the exact places where Tino had earlier cracked the tub, lessened. He was dying, right then and there, after being so careful, so cautious, he had let his guard down and…
Just then, the incredible weight forcing him to the bottom of the tub disappeared and almost immediately, Norway’s mouth broke the surface and a huge gasp permeated the bathroom as he filled his starving lungs up with air. Frantic and as skittish as an animal, Lukas literally scrambled over the edge of the tub, forgoing his forgotten injuries and, dropped onto the floor of the bathroom, directly onto his bad left arm. His scream of pain was smothered into the floor mat, so next to no sound actually reached his own ears, let alone anyone else’s. Trebling from pain and panic, Lukas managed to roll onto his back as he coughed up water and continued to take gaping breaths of air. He remained like this for minutes, his heart racing, and tears streaming down his face until he felt stable enough to shakily sit up. Dragging a towel to cover his lap, Norway stared wide eyed at his pile of clothes and glanced at his now darker and possibly broken left arm, before hesitantly looking up at the white mass that was the tub, which sat so innocently beside him.
He had thought of his weakness, his greatest weakness, and the evil of this place had crept into his subconscious to steal his secret, and gave him a taste of death, just as it had done to Tino. Tino… Lukas jerked his head around to look at the still closed door of the bathroom. The simple fact that Alv hadn’t broken the door down proved that neither he nor Tino knew of what had just occurred, that they had almost lost Lukas. Running a shaking hand over his face, Norway bit his lip and shook his head, “And they never will….” Taking a deep breath for solidity, he stood before pulling the drain of the cooling water from the tub without touching any liquid, managed to somewhat dry himself of and wrapped the towel around his waist using his one hand; he gathered up his clothes and sword, and tried not to leave the bathroom too quickly while piecing his broken mask back together for his friends’ sake.
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Post by Finland (x) on May 17, 2012 14:57:59 GMT -6
Tino wished he could sleep. Doze. Nod off for just a second because he was feeling the aftereffects of stress and exertion, but he could not. Silent screeches reverberated through his skull as wild, sporadic images of decaying faces and hands snapped his eyes open. He could not... would not sleep. Nope. If this was what Tino was like when he was conscious, how would he ever be able to combat sleep? Deep down, Tino knew there would be nightmares. He could see it, feel it. Tossing and turning in a restless slumber as he relived the recent memories, tortured until he finally awoke. Tino shook his head. That wasn't sleep. That fitful tussle in bed would do nothing to let his mind and body rest. No... he'd be better off to brave the night conscious.
However... how long could his body hold out for? He needed to heal, which would take time and energy. Plus, he had no idea how long he'd remain in this place. It could be days, weeks, even years... that was, if he ever escaped. There was no way that he'd be able to deter sleep for that long. He'd physically die if that happened. Laying there on the bed, Tino stared up at the ceiling. He wanted to burst, but at the same time, have the decency to hold himself together. He wanted to talk, but at the same time, bottle it all up.
Tino was scared that his friendship with Lukas had been tested. The last thing he wanted to do was to spill his inner turmoil on the guy. Tino was positive that Lukas didn't really know what had happened in the pit. Well... maybe not 100% sure, but he knew that the hellhole was dark and pretty damn deep. The chances of the Nordic seeing the detail and vivid images that Tino saw? Slim to none, even if Norway's eyesight was razor sharp.
Realizing that he had been holding his breath, Tino sighed. He couldn't do that to Lukas. Tino glanced towards the bathroom door, but soon averted his eyes. What if... what if Lukas really did hate him? Tino had dumped a lot on the guy and he hadn't exactly done much to compensate for it, save for screaming in his face when the Fin 'woke up'.
“I just...” Tino started, almost speaking against his thoughts as he tried to grab at reasons. Lukas... Lukas wouldn't loathe him. They had been through thick and thin in the past, right? Tino tried to push past the recent horrors to unearth his memories. They seemed like so long ago... like a past life. Tino chuckled, no emotion behind it. “That's what it is now... just a past life...” he murmured to the ceiling, eyes half open and unreadable. It didn't matter if he had won (or lost) a war now. Some victory on the wall was no use to him now. He was half the being he was before, reduced to the likes of a mere mortal. The fact scared him. It scared him a lot.
Fear was not something that had truly rattled him like this. Yes, he went through some rough patches (more than he let on to the others), but none of that could even hold a candle to the past few hours that he had managed to survive. Tino thought he knew what it was like to look death in the eye. He had stared down the barrel of a rifle before, with the end pressed threateningly against his forehead. He thought he knew...
He thought he knew...
Tino couldn't keep this in. These feelings, these visions. He'd go insane. He'd lose himself in the raving turmoil that raged within his chest. He was already feeling the effects of insanity. The way his heart hammered, despite the fact that there was no present danger... the way he'd twitch at sounds that weren't there. He could not keep this act up. He needed to talk... but... not to Norway.
Luckily enough, Tino was aware of one more being that he could express himself to, or... at least, pretend to. Sitting up slowly, Tino's gaze drifted around the room. He was tentative, as Tino hated to expose his inner self like this, but he needed to.
“Alv?” he said, voice delicate and barely above a whisper. Inhaling once and commanding himself to man up, Tino's gaze wandered until it settled on a smeared mark on the opposite side of the room. It wasn't exactly easy making eye contact with a creature that he couldn't see.
“I don't know if you're still there, or if you've gone to check on Lukas or something... or if you even want to listen,” Tino began, stalling on the point. It was difficult... like wrenching open an old, rusted hinge that refused to give way. He didn't want to spill... “You don't even have to... but... I'm going to pretend that you will,” Tino said slowly, swallowing his anxiety. He was acting like a child talking to some imaginary friend. However, he didn't care.
“I just... I don't know what to do...” Tino admitted, burying his face in his bare arms. His head hurt, his chest ached and his injuries throbbed. He was stuck in a haunted, alive mansion with monsters and death traps. He had been pushed to a fear that he had never truly recognized, as premature burial had never really crossed Tino's mind. And now, he was alive and waiting to be tossed into another trial with a friend that could very well despise him. Tino clamped his jaw shut, trying to hold it all in when he just couldn't. His cup had been filled to the brim and just couldn't handle anymore without overflowing.
“I-I...” he started, but found that his throat was too tight to continue. Wet drops streaked their way down Tino's arms as his small frame shook softly with the quiet sobs. He couldn't do this. Pain flickered in Tino's head as his entire body became tense with the effort of keeping quiet. Looking up at the ceiling with eyes glazed with fresh tears, he tried his voice again.
“I can't get these monsters out of my head. They keep coming and pulling me down, into that pit. I-I'm scared and I hate it,” he admitted, clenching his head between his hands. His pride, something that was very dear to him, was slowly fading back as he spoke his terrors aloud.
“They pull at my thoughts, at my mind, at everything. But... I... I can't fight it. I can't struggle. They're just there, and no matter how hard I try, they won't go away,” he said, fingernails leaving crescent shaped indents in his scalp. “A-And now... Lukas...” he started, reopening his eyes as his gaze found its way back to the mark on the wall. “I think he hates me for all this. Look at me. No, look at him. He's in that state because of me!”
Tino glared down at himself, internal displeasure brooding as he tried to sort through his scrambled head. The man tried to dry his tears, but only found that more quickly replaced them. “I-It's because of me...” he lamented, before leaning forward to press his forehead into his drawn-up knees.
“It's my fault... that he's hurt like that. W-What if he dies because he can't defend himself! I... I can't...” Sorrow choked the words from Tino's mouth before he could try and voice any other thoughts. He felt exposed and raw, like he had just tore open a new injury deep within. Stilling his shaking into pitiful hiccups, he reached forward and clasped a hand onto the medical balm. He sniffed, using his wrist to wipe away some of the wetness that garnished his cheeks.
“I'm pathetic...” he admitted as he unscrewed the cap and pawed the roll of bandages over. As he did so, a particular thought nestled its way inside his head. Looking up, Tino found his gaze settling at a different point. A space between himself and the bathroom door. Was Alv there? Tino didn't know, but his face hardened. It was an eerie sight, seeing Tino's haunted eyes glossy and furrowed in a stare that was beyond serious. He swallowed once, unmoving as he made sure his next sentence was clear and quiet.
“If something happens... make sure Lukas gets out alive. Do not allow him to turn back for me again. I can't ever repay him for what he did for me back there... but... I can't let him hurt himself like this for my sake. Alright?” Tino said, red eyes gleaming as he held his breath for a response. Waiting a moment or two, Tino's sudden edge faded as his posture sunk back to a slump and he turned back to the ointment.
Squeezing the tube, a gob of gel oozed out onto his outstretched palm. The texture was thick and smooth, like a slimy gel. Grinding his teeth together to brace himself, he eased his hand against the back of his leg. Pain immediately exploded behind his eyes as the tender injury flared with a fiery sensation. Tino's eyes watered, but with enough blinking, he held the tears at bay. Wincing as he worked the salve into his injuries, he had to refrain from howling in anguish. Bloody hell, did the gashes ever hurt! Gasping once he finished his one let, he inhaled and exhaled a few times before holding his breath once more. He was already hurting, so it was best to get both injuries lubricated and bandaged. He groaned as he made quick work of his other leg, his attention to detail becoming sloppy. It was more 'I want to just finish this' than 'I should do a good job'. Flopping backwards as he finished, Tino panted and wiped the excess cream on his shins. Glad that he had not yet pulled the black sleeveless shirt over his torso, Tino took a moment to relax.
He had to admit that he felt a tad better from talking to himself. (or Alv, depending on if the troll was actually present). It was silly and naive, but it helped him organize his thoughts. Reaching over to grab and handful of his unworn shirt, Tino wiped the tears from his face to hopefully eradicate the evidence of his miniature breakdown. Again, Tino insisted that Lukas didn't need to know of this. The stoic nation had probably invented a plan to ditch him already, seeing as how long he had been in the bathroom. Tino glanced over to the door suspiciously. He... didn't hear the shower still running. Was Lukas almost finished? He had been in there for ages...
Sitting up once more, Tino quickly found the roll of gauze and wrapped his injuries delicately. They weren't bleeding anymore, but the tissue was red and puffy and would probably produce a fluid. That meant he'd need to save some bandages for the morning... er... well, whenever they woke up. And by they, Tino meant Lukas. Tino wouldn't sleep. Not with skeletal hands clawing at his thoughts.
Throwing his legs over the side of the bed cautiously, Tino was about to put weight on them when the door cracked open slowly. The creaking noise resonated throughout the silent room as Tino's eyes locked onto Lukas's. The man looked more tired than before, if that was even possible at this point. Scantily clad in a mere towel, Tino's eyes found other injuries that he had missed before. The bandages hands, multiple bruises and occasional nicks, plus... his badly bruised arm. Tino's eyes flashed as he withheld a grimace. The injury only looked worse after the nation had showered, which caused the growing guilt in Tino's chest to surge. If he had only climbed faster and pulled himself out and... Dammit. Dammit it all to hell...
Tino swallowed as his eyes rose to meet the others. “Hey...” he started, tone flat as his gaze quickly broke away. He couldn't bear to look at his friend like that. Not when the Norwegian was looking so worn down on account of him. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to so bad, but the fear that Lukas would snap and leave left Tino's throat tight and lips sealed. Instead, the Fin settled with pulling his knees close to his chest as the awkward silence stilled the cool air between them.
It would be a long night.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 2, 2012 20:23:13 GMT -6
Lukas has never been one for maintaining or starting conversations and he usually refrained from the social engagement altogether, but as he entered the vicinity of the bedroom and saw Tino upon the bed, partially clothed and bandaged, looking at him and meeting his gaze, the Norwegian knew that words needed to be spoken for the benefit of them both. From where he stood on the carpet, only a few feet from the bathroom door, with his right arm cradling his jumbled pile of clothing as well as clutching the ends of his loosely hanging towel abound his waist, Lukas wasn’t much to look at yet he saw that within Tino’s eyes that there was an interest within them that was reserved only for him, or more accurately for his wounds. His scanty drying effort had done little to rid himself of water from his far from pleasant bath and cooling droplets were dripping from the ends of his hair and chilling his back and skin.
Lucky for Lukas, Tino saw it fitting to speak first and though the man uttered a single syllable, Norway noticeably winced at the sound and his gaze immediately dropped. His eyes wavered of his view of the floor and from the direction of the bed, he heard Tino stir before settling, most likely in a new position. It was not the fact that Lukas didn’t wish to speak with Tino; he knew that his friend probably needed his presence as a source of comfort due to his dreadful ordeal, but after what Norway had just gone through…. How was he supposed to comfort and take care of Finland when he was barely hanging on himself? At that moment, all he wanted to do really was curl up into a ball beneath heavy covers where no would could see him, and sink into a silence that only came after nearly crossing the line into the afterlife. Distracted by his thoughts, movement caught his attention form his peripheral and Norway raised his head to see Alv there beside him and while it was a true relief to see the forest troll, Lukas’ brows narrowed slightly when he registered the creature’s expression: the troll’s eyes were sad and soft and were staring at him intently while the troll’s mouth was set into a hard line. Blinking in confusion, Alv continued to look at him until finally turning his great head to look at Tino. Lukas followed the troll’s direction to resettle his tired eyes once more upon his friend. Words were not needed between Lukas and his supernatural companion; centuries of being around one another deemed that unnecessary in such a situation and Norway read Alv’s eyes loud and clear….
Whether he liked it or not, he and Tino would be having themselves a talk with one another.
Sighing, Lukas made his painful way over towards the bed and stiffly sat down beside Tino. Silence ensued. The room around them was still save for Alv drifting silently in front of the fireplace, watching them. With his head slightly bowed, Lukas stared down into his lap at his pile of clothing and damp white towel covering his pelvic region and thighs. Water droplets from his hair began to fall upon his hat that sat at the top of his clothing bundle, causing the large feather to shiver and shift from the water’s weight. Lukas didn’t know what to say or even where to start. Tino had bravely said his greeting, one that Norway had yet to acknowledge or respond to, so he guessed that that was a decent start. Cracking his lips open and running his dry tongue over his even drier lips, he hesitated a moment.
“…. Hallo…”
His voice sounded hoarse, dry, and exhausted though the exertion from the utterance made his entire body shiver. He could feel Tino’s weight weighing down the mattress beside him and could hear the Fin’s breathing, yet he continued to stare down at his clothing. Norway for the first time in a long time was nervous around Finland. The last time he felt this uneasy, was most likely when Finland was with Sweden who was at war with Denmark, whom Norway had been with. Now, dripping wet, barely clothed, exhausted, and partially shell-shocked from nearly being drowning in a porcelain bathtub in a manor of manifested evil, Lukas realized he was completely at a loss of what to say to his Finnish friend. The fingers of his right hand started to twirl the lace of his pants before coming in contact with the bridge of his nose as he sighed.
“Pokker….”
Tired of so many things, Lukas simply gave up trying to do what he knew he couldn’t, to be strong for both himself and for Finland. Tilting his centre of balance to the right, Lukas cringed from the twinge of tightness in his side from his muscles as he leaned to the side towards Tino until his head came to rest upon the Finnish man’s shoulder. He really hoped that he wasn’t hurting Tino by his readjustment of his position but this way he not only could relax but it broke through the space barrier between the both of them. Again, Lukas’ level of not caring was continuing to decrease. Blinking slowly, Norway shifted his view to look down at Tino’s khaki sheathed knee and took a moment to think. From this angle, Tino had no way of seeing Lukas’ tear wetted face or the sadness in his eyes. He knew what words he should say, what he needed to say, but he didn’t know how. He wasn’t good with this sort of thing but, he owed Tino for all that he’s been through and all the pain Lukas caused him.
“Tino…. Jeg beklager…”
The words hurt so bad, the apology struck Lukas right in the chest and his eyes slightly widened before they closed tight and a fresh onslaught of tears began to flow. He mad no sounds of weeping, his mouth remained in a tight line, though his body tensed, causing his injured arm to seize up with pain. From somewhere in the room, a great forest troll bowed his head in equal sadness as his companion, his own great white tears falling down his cheeks, for he could tell that his friend was in pain and was smothered by the great weight of guilt. Norway remained where he was for a few more moments, pulling himself together a bit, before daring to continue speaking.
“I… didn’t know what else to do. You can’t… we can’t lose ourselves here, we need to stick together”.
Tension tightened in Lukas’ chest, making it difficult to breath for a moment, so much so that he needed to remove his contact from Tino’s shoulder. All of this stress, the conditions that his body and mind were in, and the heaviness his words in his heart, were all too much for him to take. Norway was not good or competent with tender moments of heartfelt emotions, well any emotions in general. Shaking his head, he shoved his clothes onto the bed and stood, allowing for his towel to drop to the floor, rendering himself naked. A scowl creased his expression as he resumed sitting upon the bed, grabbed his pants, and started angrily pulling them on with his right hand. His anger stemmed from his unease and great sense of anxiety with not being able to understand what to do, what Tino wanted him to do.
After moments of pulling and battling, Lukas fell back to sit on the bed, wearing his pants. Reaching down to pick up his towel, Lukas wiped off his chest and began dabbing at his hair. Biting his lip as he finished, he chucked the towel across the room, earning another scream of protest from his aching muscles. His left arm wasn’t broken, he had had broken bones before and he knew that the pain would have been much more intense if the arm was. Glancing at the ugly sight of his bruising limb, Lukas could guess that while the bone might only be bruised, possibly every muscle, tendon and ligament were bruised, torn, or strained. Basically, rendering the arm completely useless. Remaining as he was, starting at his arm with his heart racing and body trembling, a voice at the back of his mind reminded him that he was doing a piss-poor job of comforting Tino or gaining control of his overflowing emotions.
Brows still creased and mouth set into a frown, Norway reached up with his good hand and removed his most prized possession to turn it in his hands and stared at it thoughtfully. The gold of his Nordic cross hairpin was smeared with moisture and swiping his thumb across its surface, removed all traces. Norway could remember the day when he was still a child when he received this pin and ever since then, he has always worn it or at least, kept it on his person. The pin was warm to the touch, heated always by his body, and the item gave him some comfort and helped settle his racing blood. Without taking his eyes off the form of the Nordic cross, Norway was reminded that along with Finland, they both had family somewhere in the manor; possibly more hurt then themselves, possibility alone, possibly…dead…
“Finland. You can’t give up on me…. I need you, more then we both know. I just, I mean…. Right now, we’re both not in the state to do much but I think that we have a better chance in this fucking house if we stay…umm… together…” Looking up finally to rest his gaze upon Finland, his expression one of exhaustion and despondency, Lukas hesitated with his words, his lips quivering a bit, and in a hushed tone spoke the biggest fear he’s felt since learning the danger of this place, a fear that has developed to be even greater than drowning. “Tino… I need your help to find the others as I found you, before its too late”. ~~~ Translation: Pokker= Shit, Jeg beklager= I'm sorry.
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Post by Finland (x) on Jun 5, 2012 23:46:32 GMT -6
Norway stood in the door-frame, still as stone as his dark eyes found Finland's. Norway had always been an intimidating nation in the past, especially when coupled with Denmark, but now? Tino broke the locked gaze as he jerked his head away a little too quickly. Lukas had a daunting persona and a terrifying demeanour, especially when he was angry. Was he angry now? Tino couldn't read those eyes. He was used to Sweden's calculating gaze. Naturally, the Swede made Tino feel uncomfortable at times, but Tino could understand the unspoken emotions in his icy eyes. Shouldn't he be able to apply those skills to Lukas?
In reality, Lukas was on a whole other level. While Berwald naturally looked terrifying, he did try to express emotion and some of that leaked through his gaze. Lukas was a fortified wall. Nothing ever seemed to trickle through his impenetrable guard, as little to nothing ever flashed across his expression. Only now did Tino seem to realize that as he tried to make himself small. Under Lukas's calculating stare, he just wanted to sink into the mattress and away from the navy eyes.
Was there hate lingering in that gaze? In those pools of dark blue waters? How could Tino tell? Tino didn't want to ask. If Lukas did indeed bare ill feelings towards him, he would openly admit it. Just look at his relationship with Denmark. The Norwegian had no problem verbally bashing the elder nation at every opportunity possible. Would Tino join that list and hold the same fate?
Finland longed to pull his knees to his chest and hug them for comfort. Perhaps he took Berwald for granted in the past by seeking refuge with him when upset. Tino lacked that luxury now and felt... empty. Empty, scared, and alone, despite the other Nordic in the doorway. The Finn swallowed, bringing his glance back up to the man. Tino shouldn't have been so nervous... so tentative around him. They were neighbours after all. Was he just acting childish here? Tino was supposed to be the mature one of the group, but here he was, quiet and scared like some child. He needed to say something. They were adults, were they not? They had many many years under their belts and this should have been easy.
So why was Tino's mouth unable to form words? What was there to say? ...What could he say? Even if Tino wanted to, he wasn't sure if he could wrench out everything that he had said before. Whether it was to open air or an invisible spirit, Tino didn't know. He was well aware though, that reopening that chest of insecurities and such was not possible. He had tore it open moments ago and it snapped shut as soon as he recollected himself. Prying it out again would only break Tino further. He needed to keep it together, not let it fall apart.
Tino watched as Lukas almost twitched, his unfocused gaze glistening with an attentive shine as he looked to empty air. Tino bit his lip uncomfortably as he knew exactly what was transpiring. Alv, the troll, was saying something. So he had been around for Tino's miniature meltdown. Was he talking to Lukas now about it? Explaining that the Norwegian should leave now before the Fin really lost his marbles? Tino averted his gaze once more, his hands knotting in the fabric of his unworn shirt. With hunched shoulders, Tino reached forward and quickly tugged his pant leg over the fresh gauze, hiding the injuries from view before Lukas's stoic gaze could seize him once more.
Tino nearly jumped when he felt the mattress jostle from Lukas's weight. Tino blinked a few times, flicking his gaze that way to only catch the edge of the Norwegian's arm. His left arm. The one that was so mangled and discoloured that it made Tino's face pale. Tino turned his head slightly, partially in shame and partially because he didn't want to gaze upon the injury that was entirely his fault. An uncomfortable silence filled the air as Lukas had yet to say anything. This only made the Finn's unease soar. What was going through Lukas's head right now? Tino wished he knew... but at the same time, he didn't. He didn't want to hear horrible, hateful, despicable things about himself and how he was so much work to look after.
“Hallo...”
The words were hollow and dry, almost enough to make Tino wince. Lukas sounded tired and in discomfort. Well, he was badly injured, but was that all? No... those were words that proceeded a 'talk'. Tino's stomach clenched into knots, tightening and twisting from the lack of food or water. The Finn swallowed, trying to come up with something to say. Ask how Luke's feeling? No, that was stupid. Tino glanced up at the man and suppressed a grimace. Norway was certainly not feeling well, as his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. What was so hard for Lukas to say? That he couldn't deal with Tino and that they were better off splitting up?
“Pokker….”
...What? What did Lukas just sa- Tino visibly flinched at the contact, but not for reasons that many would think. With the decaying corpses still running amok in his mind, Tino had been shaking the feeling of bony hands touching him. Ever since the well, he hadn't been contacted by another person... or... at least, he couldn't remembered being brushed by a human's skin. He had to remind himself that Lukas was not dead, rotting body that wanted to kill him. No, Lukas's skin was different from the undead. It was warm, something that gave Tino goosebumps. Was Lukas running a fever? Or... was Tino just that chilled? As Lukas leaned on him, confusion slowly overtook the slight panic. If Lukas hated him, why was he doing this? From what Tino could recall, Lukas hated physical contact. The Fin couldn't count how many times that the Norwegian blatantly turned down Mathias's hugs or signs of affection. So why now?
The water from Lukas's hair trickled down Tino's barren shoulder, leeching down his arm in a slithery trail. The moisture was cold, chilled by the cool air. Tino turned his head slightly, but found himself staring at the crown of Lukas's golden head. Confusion continued to blossom in Tino's mind until he felt droplets splashing on his arm. Warm droplets. Tino could feel the man beside him tense up as the information hit Tino like a brick to the face. Lukas... was crying.
“Tino…. Jeg beklager…”
The words were not of Tino's native tongue, but he was fluent in Swedish and knew enough of the Norwegian language to understand the statement. But... what was Lukas sorry for? Tino felt the body beside him coil even more as he restrained himself from sobbing. Tino's mind began to fire as he tried to piece together some way to calm the older nation. What to do?! What was he so upset about? Why... why was he apologizing to Tino? If anything, the Finn should have been the one begging for forgiveness. This whole mess was his fault! True, he didn't willingly clamber down into the well, but he was the one that cause all this! Tino was about to tell Lukas this before the Norwegian spoke again, his tone very very quiet.
“I… didn’t know what else to do. You can’t… we can’t lose ourselves here, we need to stick together”.
Again, Tino was bombarded by realization. The peroxide. The vigorous pain that overtook his body and nearly left him convulsing in the porcelain tub one room over. Lukas retracted the contact, leaving Tino's shoulder cold to the air with the warm presence gone. Tino looked down, his own gaze falling on his shielded legs. He couldn't really blame Lukas for the act. Especially when the normally stoic nation sounded so raw. The tone was pleading and scared, something that Tino had never, ever seen in his friend. Tino turned to look up at the aching nation, his own chest pleading to spill out his own words as Lukas's towel hit the floor.
Tino had seen naked men before, as he practically lived in the saunas back home, but that didn't mean that he could simply stare at the undressed nation. Tino averted his gaze to his lap as a hint of embarrassment touched his thoughts. They passed quickly though, as the situation that the two were in was anything but intimate. Tino inhaled as he saw movement in his peripherals. The words were still at the tip of his tongue, and he would seize the moment to speak.
“Lukas, no...” he started, giving his head a slight shake. He paused, as he felt the weight of the other sink back onto the bed. Raising his violet gaze from his lap, he locked onto Lukas's deep blue hues. “Don't be sorry, it's okay,” he breathed, allowing a small smile to pull at his mouth. “Please... please don't blame yourself Lukas...”
Tino reached forward with a tentative hand, gently breaking the contact barrier once again as his fingertips grazed Lukas's uninjured arm ever so slightly. “P.... Please Luke... I'm the one who should be apologizing...” Tino's breath hitched in his throat. This was it... the worry that Tino had been carrying since he became conscious. The burden of the situation... the blame for their current, pitiful states. “It's... my fault. Please Lukas... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...”
Lukas was fingering his pin gently, as if in deep thought. Tino gently pulled his arm back, fear prickling his mind as he stared at Lukas, fiercely battling back tears. Lukas opened his mouth slowly and spoke, his voice shaken and off compared to what it normally was. Tino's insides tightened. This wasn't right. Lukas wasn't supposed to sound like this. Lukas was supposed to be indifferent to the world, only showing emotion to those that he loved. To see fear in those blue orbs... Tino swallowed as he nodded along with Lukas's first statement.
Though Tino didn't visibly show it, the unease about Lukas's hatred melted away. First off, Lukas had leaned against him. From experience alone, Tino knew that that alone was uncommon. Coupled with the need that had wormed its way into his voice... Tino knew. He knew that Lukas didn't hate him... or at least, that Lukas still wanted him around. No, needed him around. No one had expressed such words to him... ever. Sweden had never 'needed' Finland, not in the way that Norway needed him now.
As Lukas rose his eyes and quietly uttered, “Tino… I need your help to find the others as I found you, before its too late”, the Finn could barely nod. The others... what if... something similar had happened? Tino had seen Emil and Mathias before in the Manor, but he had yet to stumble upon the Swede. There were certainly many, many ways to die in this wretched place. In fact, despite the burly nation's strength, things could tear him apart like paper. Tino swallowed, his mouth feeling like sandpaper. He was sure that Norway felt the same about his brother...
Unable to contain himself any further... unable to look at the exhausted and wounded Norwegian, Tino edged over carefully before gently wrapping his barren arms around Norway. His 'grip' was featherlight, as he was more than aware of his ally's current injuries. He just wanted to comfort Lukas... try to erase the fears and tears that he had seen and felt. It was hard... how could Tino will away threats that loomed over the pair? Even in the imagined safety of the room, the Manor was everywhere. The mousetrap in the drawers, the cloak on the bed... they were all reminders of what the haunted house was capable of. Tino sighed into the gesture, his gaze resting past Lukas's head. “I promise Lukas.. I'm not going anywhere...” he started, raising his hand to comb back the Norwegian's damp locks.
“I promise... I promise...” he repeated, mainly to drill the message into his own skull. He could not slip away again. He just couldn't... it wasn't right to put Lukas through that once. Damn him to hell if he did that to Norway again. He had to fight the terrors that ravaged his mind. He could not give into them, no matter how tempting the ignorant bliss was.
“We'll find them Lukas. This place is ridiculously big. We just haven't come across them yet...” Tino said, thinking of Emil for Lukas's sake. Emil, fragile as he was, could hold out for them. Yes... the teenager wasn't a Nordic for nothing. He'd be okay. He had to be.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 25, 2012 0:38:47 GMT -6
Norway couldn’t do it anymore, to pretend that he was fine, that he had enough strength to defend both himself and Tino, that he had enough energy to remain upright. Going against centuries of warding off foreign touch and comfort, with Tino’s arms tentatively around him, Lukas sagged himself against the Fin’s shoulder and leaned into his embrace. His damp torso, cold from the room and watery-death’s touch, shivered as it welcomed the warmth of Tino’s body. The Manor, this place that they both, among many others, were imprisoned in had hit hard against them both in the last few hours and Lukas was too tired to even try and put up a fight. His blue eyes were barely open, heavily lidded from exhaustion, and it felt like the colour of his complexion and hair’s shade had been leached with paleness. His entire body felt like ice, the chill cast from a hot bath, and it was only Tino’s presence that reminded the Norwegian that he was still awake.
Was he awake? Lukas had considered numerous times that this all could be one huge nightmare from being knocked out by Dane or something, or perhaps his drink got spiked as a joke by Netherlands at the World Meeting. A thousand more possibilities had fluttered through Norway’s reasons during his horrid journey through the manor’s endless hallways, some more irrational than the last, but they all stemmed back to the reality that this was in fact, reality. He and Tino, there now sitting beaten down and broken huddled up on a bed in a cold room, was real. Both were shirtless, both were hurt, exhausted, traumatized, and fighting off insanity and denial that this was all really happening and warding off the possibilities that others, whom they both loved, could be in worse situations or even dead. They needed each other here, yet in the outside world, Norway preferred to be alone, to have nothing but nature, silence, and his supernatural companions to keep him company. Having gone through millennia accompanied by the other Nordics had left a certain urge to do so, to be by oneself, and it was actually when he was by himself that the Norwegian man would speak the most at length. He and Alv have shared entire nights and days speaking of eras past, of legends and folklores, of truth and reason, and these pastimes were of Lukas’ most favored and beloved.
His Nordic family, including the rest of the world, knows him for one who is silent, indifferent, and sometimes violent, but he is so much more than that…. In here however, being alone was deadly. Having Tino there by his side soothed Norway in a way that he hadn’t felt in years. Lukas needed Tino, just as the Fin surely needed him. The silence of this place played tricks with the solitary mind and berated the thoughts with paranoia and anxiety. Finland’s gentle arms lightly encircling Lukas’ slick chest solidified him in the present enough for him to ease himself even more onto Finland’s shoulder, almost to the point where his entire weight was resting against the Fin.
“I promise Lukas... I'm not going anywhere...”
The Fin’s words were soft and slightly unsure, but nonetheless comforting. Lukas’ eyelids rose slightly as he turned his gaze to fixate upon Tino’s face, to faintly reach his distant violent eyes. Finland looked to be equally tired as Norway felt and he had been through so much hell that Lukas dared not inquire into the subject to protect Tino’s sanity. Still, the Norwegian couldn’t shake the notion that their positions were slightly reversed. He was supposed to be comforting Tino, not the other way around. Tino was apologizing for events that weren’t even his fault; that in no way in hell Lukas would reverse. He had saved Tino without a moment of hesitation or doubt and would do it all again ten times worse if it meant that Tino was safe in the end. Lukas blinked at a flicker of memory of his own screams echoing down the dank, stoned walls of the well as he reached down into the abyss to by chance grasp the small target of Tino’s wrist as he began to drop back down into the bowels of the pit and meet his end. The muscles around his eyes tightened as Lukas remembered the pain that followed and how its intensity grew as he literally flung Tino up and out of the well; he need only to look at his useless left arm to see why Tino would be apologizing to him.
Soft fingertips suddenly appeared upon Lukas’ head and began to gently comb through the golden network of moist hair strands, a feat done only by a few in the past. Norway’s hair was a complete “no touch” zone for all because of the aura of sensitivity that surrounded the whimsical, floating curl Lukas was known for and because when touched, shooting sensations ceased Lukas’ brain-capacity and if continued, would lead to rather intimate confrontations... Lukas had no worries whatsoever in his mind that such confrontations would take place at the moment so he wasted no precious energy to tell Finland to stop and to be honest, it was rather relaxing the contact. Faen… his sanity truly was unraveling if he now considered hair fondling to be acceptable.
“I promise... I promise...We'll find them Lukas. This place is ridiculously big. We just haven't come across them yet...”
The tone that Tino was using sounded rather distant yet firm, as if he had forgotten Lukas was there and was rather talking to himself. It was no secret that Finland sometimes spoke to himself; a habit surely picked up from conversing with Sweden for Berwald was like Lukas, not one for conversing. This was not one of those times however. The words struck hard against Lukas’ heart and hurt more than his injuries did. Finland was reassuring him, while he remained silent and gave nothing but his weight upon Tino’s shoulder. Shame and sorrow etched their grooves into the lines of exhaustion encircling Norway’s eyes and added their weight upon his shoulders, surpassing his ability to remain upright. The room spun as Lukas fell backwards, taking Finland down with him. He was done, finished, has lost this battle and his body had had enough of his bravado.
Lukas was tired and demanded rest. However, the Norwegian still had to clench his teeth together and hiss in pain as the sudden jostling against the mattress disturbed the form of his left arm. Inhaling deeply and reopening his eyes to the ceiling, he waited a moment for the pain to once more dull over before remembering that he dizzy spell had taken Tino as prisoner and the Fin’s arm was beneath him and they were now lying together upon the bed. The muscles and tendons in his neck groaned as Lukas turned his head to face Tino; his lose bangs falling into his eyes. His right hand still grasped his Nordic Cross hairpin and his arm was made of lead, and lead arms were impossible to move. Norway stared at Finland, his eyes barely visible behind the blanket of his lids, and while Sleep was slowly seducing him to give up his will and be one with Her, he fought against the temptation to think thoroughly over everything Tino had just spoken. Finland had promised that they together would locate the other Nordics, that they would stay together for that long, and his words held the promise that everything was going to be all right.
Lukas was grateful for the lies. Up close in the dim light, the blonde studied the other, taking his time while still giving off the air that he was still somewhat conscious, trying to formulate the right words that Tino desperately needed or at least deserved to hear. Words flitting like birds with broken wings flew through the thick fog engulfing his mind and Norway remained silent, lost with his gaze caught in Tino’s. Had anyone ever told Finland that is eyes were lovelier than the entire viola in the world? Blinking in surprise, Lukas stirred slightly more awake once he registered that he indeed just thought that.
‘Faen… I am losing my mind…’
Sighing and tearing gaze from Tino’s eyes to stare at his chin, Lukas cracked open his mouth to speak the only thing he managed to conjure into a full sentence in the last few seconds, “We will find the, Tino… in this world or the next”.
Lukas inwardly groaned for sounding so morbid when Tino probably was expecting something a little more reassuring, but Norway was a realist and didn’t particularly liked skipping around the truth and a good example of this was earlier when he had truthfully told Tino that he wasn’t okay. Tino however still deserved something more than what was said. Licking his lips and returning his blanketed eyes towards the Finnish man’s, Lukas spoke in a hushed, strained tone that only pronounced how incredibly tired he was, “Tino. What has happened this night, I would not take back for anything in the world. I saved you for a reason, you are min venn, and for that fact I would endure hardships much more severe then what was felt tonight….” Hesitating only to find his words and to slightly wait for Tino’s face to stop spinning, Norway furrowed his brows and struggled to voice his overwrought words.
“What I mean is, it’s not your fault that I’m hurt. For you, I would journey into hell and back as you have. It’s you whom you should be worried about…. I’m not fine but I will be. Focus… on yourself…”
The ending of his sentence slurred as his eyes drooped and his fatigue smothered his brain from working any further. In the last few remained moments of consciousness, Lukas considered once more the warmth of Tino’s body and the huge contrast between falling asleep and slipping into unconsciousness via passing out. Being knocked out was sudden, quick, and time usually was completely elapsed from existence. Falling asleep however, was like falling in slow motion through darkening twilight. Lukas was completely aware of the intense pain in his unmoving left arm, the ache in his legs from having plummeted from that second story window, and the accumulated soreness from the remainder of his body from everything in between and beforehand. It was a near sickening feeling, slowly being absorbed into darkness, knowing full well that he was leaving Tino alone right there beside him with only Alv to defend him. Lukas held full trust in the troll’s ability and knew that he would do all he would to protect them all if such circumstances arose, but... Lukas always felt a sliver of fear towards the fact that he might dream as he had in the bathtub, to be locked in a world where no one could reach him, and he’d die there alone.
There was nothing Lukas could do to save himself from that possibly, for he, the country of Norway, slipped into the darkness of his mind, succumbing to his exhaustion, and leaving his stressed mind wondering if he would ever wake and if he did, if Tino would be in a much better state. He wondered if he’d ever see his brother again, to hold him in his arms, or to see the other Nordics safe and sound. Other counties saw Norway as a cold, indifferent, unusual sort of country and usually identified him as uncaring. Yet if any of them could begin to understand what and how Lukas was feeling in those last moments of consciousness, they would all feel shame. The blonde fell asleep not as a country, but as a man at the end of his rope, at his wit’s end, barely holding it together, and completely at the risk of everything surrounded him, even the one whom he considered one of his oldest friends. This Manor had a way of getting into people’s minds and Lukas had already considered long ago that this evil could possibly infiltrate the minds’ of countries and control them. Even to kill. So, leaving his unconscious body at Finland’s mercy was a sign of trust in itself, though the Norwegian didn’t have much to defend himself with left.
Norway left Finland alone in their terrifying world of reality, but not before sleepily whispering, “…min Tino” before vanishing into the depths of Sleep.
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Untouchable
Offline.
Your head will collapse, but there's nothing in it and you'll ask yourself: Where is my mind?
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Post by Finland (x) on Jul 5, 2012 17:45:07 GMT -6
They really were in over their heads, weren't they? Tino somewhat expected the Norwegian to push him away, or at least voice some sort of protest against the hug. Though Finland was completely unaware of the Norwegian's near hatred of 'hair fondling', he knew that Lukas was against general physical contact. Even if Lukas had made the initiative to rest against him before, he had pulled away. That, and Tino himself had made the motion to gently encase him in his arms without permission. It was a strange turn of events. Tino was small in comparison to the other Nordic nations. To be the one wrapping his arms around another, as if to shield them, was a foreign feeling to the Finnish man. He hated to admit it, but when he lived with an overprotective Swede that showed his affection though actions, he was often hugged or held.
Tino would be lying if he said he wasn't missing the burly nation. He missed the pillar of support that Berwald provided, and in his current mental state, he could use it. He didn't know what to do at this point. Lukas was a Nordic and his friend, but Tino rarely spoke with man one-on-one. Instead of resting with an ally, Tino felt as if he were residing with a stranger. Tino gently tightened his hold ever so slightly as Lukas leaned into his words and his body. Though Finland was beyond tired and felt like hell, he could feel Lukas's exhaustion seeping into him. There was no way that Tino could possibly prop his mental state against Lukas. Not when the Norwegian was like this.
Gently combing the blond locks back, Tino worked the slight tangles out of the Norwegian's hair. The damp strands parted easily without much effort, which meant Tino was not pulling too hard. Hopefully. The Finnish man would have continued the mindless task, but suddenly the Norwegian's weight swayed backwards. Tino had been holding the man, but the sudden action caught Tino off guard and he just didn't have the strength to resist gravity as he toppled back down along side Norway. Tino's eyes instantly snapped open a millisecond after the 'fall', blinking wildly in alarm as he looked the Norwegian over to check if he had passed out. Moments later, blue hues met his violet ones and Tino let out a silent sigh of relief. He didn't.. didn't quite want Lukas to go. Not yet.
Lukas still hadn't said anything. He was.. just staring at Tino. Studying him. Was he digesting what Tino had said? Tino had meant the words for both of them. Feeling uncomfortable under that unwavering blue gaze, Tino wanted to look away but found he could not. He was swept up in those sapphire orbs as he idly wondered if Lukas believed him or not. Tino had the habit of being brightly optimistic, but could he convince anyone of the silver lining in this Manor? Heck, he could barely convince himself. Tino's attention was brought back from his internal pondering when Lukas's raspy voice filled the silence.
“We will find them, Tino... in this world or the next.”
Though the air was already chilly, the temperature seemed to plummet a few degrees. Tino broke eye contact with Norway after the blue orbs had left his violet ones.. Suddenly Lukas's skin felt cold again his own. Tino... Tino didn't want to die. As a nation, he held an immunity against age and human disease, but he had come close in the past to being overrun. Thankfully, he had always made it out okay. Unfortunately, Tino didn't have that same comfort here. This place.. wherever it was, it sucked the strength right out of them. He felt vulnerable and exposed to these dangers and that scared him. Tino never gave the afterlife much thought, but now... with it being brought up... he shuddered. What would happen if he died? How would he be killed? Would he suffer? Be trapped and starved to death? Eaten by something? Morbid thoughts trickled through his mind, giving rise to images and mixed memories about the past few hours.
Tino resisted the temptation to fidget and become jittery. The last thing he needed to consciously think about was the possessed well and its inhabitants. Chewing on his lip, Tino was reminded that he wasn't holding a cold dead weight. Lukas was still there and had begun speaking again. Tino looked up, meeting his gaze once more. Despite the bags underneath his friend's eyes, there was an intensity behind the pools of blue. Norway's voice was tired and hushed, but was only strengthened by how strong his eyes bore into Tino. Was this what Lukas was really like? When he didn't throw up his impenetrable barrier of aloofness?
Tino's eyes swelled as he took Lukas's words to heart, swallowing each one and digesting it into his brain to confirm that the Norwegian was not just feeding him lies. No. When Lukas was so exposed... so tired, there was no way that he could lie so convincingly, with so much will behind the statement. Tino swallowed, his ears absorbing the phrase as he tried to let go some of the guilt that was plaguing his heart. Lukas didn't blame him... he was not the target of hatred. Relief swept over Tino like a dam breaking. There was the initial flooding of uplifting emotion as the weight of his crime was relieved. After followed the steady flow of tension that unwound from every inch of his body. He had been so scared, so mortified at the thought of Lukas's anger, that the confession of the other Nordic nearly brought him to tears.
Tino didn't try to repress the sigh that escaped his lips as he wallowed in the truth. With those words... Tino could rest easy. Well... sort of. With the brooding worry that his friend hating him gone, he could now do what Lukas had commanded. Look after himself. His own fragmented mind and injuries. Tino smiled, slowly shaking his head back and forth ever so slightly to deny Lukas the order. He still had to worry about fixing up his friend's arm, but that task could wait for morning to complete. Lukas was already slipping away. Tino watched his eyelids pull shut, weighted down by the exhaustion of stress, exertion and fear. The Fin reached forward with the hand that was not underneath the chilled Nordic, brushing the bangs from the blond's face. Without the cross clip, they were trickling in front of his navy gaze. Lukas needed a haircut. So did Tino... whenever they got out of this place, Tino would bring a pair of scissors over to Norway's house to complete the task.
Pausing for a moment, Tino took the brief second to study Norway's features. The man's skin was clear and pale, softened under the dim light. The area around the blond's eyes however, was overcast and strained. Even with closed eyelids, Tino could see the dark stress make circles around his sockets. Lukas was on edge, even in slumber. Biting his lip, Tino let his hand slide from Lukas's hair to his forehead. Gently using the soft skin on his thumb, he gently smoothed over the little indent between his eyebrows that was caused by his constant frowning. After the action, the crease loosened and Lukas's expression smoothed over ever so slightly. Almost like that of a child. Tino watched for a few seconds more, fascinated by the peaceful face that the Norwegian wore, until Lukas's lips murmured a soft, slurred statement. Tino felt the breath brush over his hand as the words barely grazed his ears.
“…min Tino”
Tino's fingers froze. He thought Norway had fallen asleep already! Tino didn't move, leaving his fingers just hovering over the blond's eyebrow as he waited in silence. Lukas's breaths had evened out and were rhythmic and predictable. Tino waited a few minutes like that, until his arm developed a throbbing ache. Only then did he retract it back to his body. Lukas didn't respond whatsoever. He was asleep.
Sighing in relief, Tino glanced back to Lukas's relaxed expression. Without the dark scowl that normally shrouded his eyes and mouth, he looked... did Tino dare say he looked cute? Tino smiled to himself as he closed his eyes. Maybe he could sleep with those pleasant thoughts and relief easing into his head?
Several minutes past while Tino had slipped into slumber, but the peace did not last. After all, it had only been hours before that he had been in the bottom of a well, threatened to be buried by animated corpses. He could only rest easy for a brief period before the night terrors came. Wildly sporadic images flashed in his mind with no specific storyline. It didn't make sense, but the torture quickly brought Tino out of the light sleep that he had barely fell into. He woke up crying out, but quickly silenced himself and stole a glance at Lukas. The Norwegian was inches from his face, but was still out like a light.
Shivering in his cold sweat, Tino carefully wormed his arm out from under Lukas's body. There was still no response from the nation. Just the slow breathing that reassured Tino that the male was not dead. Tino stared at him for a long minute, before deciding that he should probably let the Nordic sleep alone. Though Lukas had told Tino to worry about himself, Tino was more concerned with Lukas's rest. At this point, it was evident that Tino would have a long fitful night with little proper sleep. He didn't want to extend that misfortune to the Norwegian.
Tino sat up and brought his good hand to his forehead, wicking away the sweat that had accumulated there during his restless tussle. He was jittery, wired on adrenaline, even though he could feel his bloodshot eyes burning with fatigue. His body was desperately crying to sleep beside the Norwegian, but the pictures that emerged when Tino closed his eyes would never allow such a deep slumber. Still without a shirt, Tino rubbed his hands up and down his arms, trying to chase the chill from his damp body.
Tino sighed and heaved his legs over the side of the mattress as he cradled his head in his arms. Eyelids drooped, he almost toppled off the bed in a temporarily lapse of exhaustion. He caught himself though, staggering awkwardly onto his tender legs as he was sharply reminded of his many injuries. Biting back a howl, Tino turned to reclaim his black muscle shirt. Once on, Tino shivered. The material did little to insulate his thin body. The room was cold and only seemed to get colder. Probably the Manor's doing...
Looking toward the unconscious nation, Tino pulled himself over to the foot the bed and began working the comforter out from under the corner of the mattress. The bed was at least a Queen size, and with Lukas only taking up half of it, Tino could fold the other half of the think duvet over his friend. Tino wasn't going to be using it, so Lukas might as well stay warm.
Once finished tucking the Norwegian in a cocoon of bedspread, Tino gazed around the room. There was a fireplace nearby that had a small pile of ashes within it. If it had ashes, then it could still be used. Now, what could be use as tinder? Could he even light it with something? Tired eyes scanned the room until Tino found a conveniently placed lighter on the bedside table. Hobbling over to it, Tino ran his fingers over the chipped blue paint. It was old, but looked like it was still functioning. Flicking the metal cover back, he sparked a flame with his thumb. A half-hearted smile found its way onto his face as he moved over to the fireplace. Two wooden chairs sat innocent enough nearby. They'd do. Tino pulled both over with difficulty, as his injuries were making the ordeal much tougher than it needed to be. Tired and starting to feel cranky, he used both hands to harshly swing one chair against the stone mantle over the fireplace. It shattered loudly as the sound echoed around the previously silent room. Tino winced, stealing a glance backwards but relaxed when he saw that Lukas was still sleeping like a baby.
Collecting the splinters of treated wood, Tino made quick work as he flicked open the lighter and held the flame under the kindling. Thankfully, he didn't have to worry about limited time like he would if he were using a match. Tino waited until the wood caught fire and the baby flame grew and devoured the tiny shards of chair. Once it was large enough, Tino tossed the larger legs of the chair in the ashy pit. The warmth was quite welcoming as a yellow glow began to chase away the chill. Tino shattered the next chair, and once again the Norwegian didn't stir.
With enough wood to last them the night, Tino sat in front of the crackling flames. He was... so so tired. His head kept bobbing forward as his eyelids drooped dangerously near closed. Tino couldn't deny his body any longer, especially with the relaxing sensation of heat washing over his face and arms. Curling up on the wooden floor, Tino watched the dancing flames until his eyes closed. Even with the fire and warmth, it was going to be a long night.
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