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Post by America on Apr 14, 2013 12:26:22 GMT -6
Alfred didn't know why he'd separated from Toris. He knew that it was in the nature of the manor to not want people to stick together for long. After all, as he'd said to Toris, there was safety in numbers. The manor didn't want them safe. The manor wanted to pick them apart, and the best way to do that was to get them alone.
This method worked especially well on Alfred, who was an extrovert even outside of the manor. Finding himself alone forced him to be alone with his thoughts, which made for a rather depressing existence. He had nothing else to keep him distracted from his own worries. To make matters worse, the manor was so damn large. Even now, he was still discovering new rooms, though each new room brought new threats. One never knew when a monster was lurking around the corner. One never knew whether they might come across friend or foe.
Not to mention the lines of friend and foe were all blurred. He'd almost consider Russia to be a friend in this place, for the simple fact that he was just as trapped as Alfred was. All the nations were trapped, being kept prisoner, all fighting against a foe that remained unseen the majority of the time.
His latest discovery was a billiard room, a familiar presence that made the corners of his mouth turn up into a small smile. Nostalgia distracted him from his worries, albeit for a short time. If only he had company. Good, pleasant company. They could distract themselves with the games still present in this room, temporarily forgetting that they were trapped in a hell from which there was no foreseeable escape.
Alas, he was alone, which meant he needed to find another means of entertainment. And on the other side of the room, he found just what he was looking for.
Some of the bottles at the bar were broken. That figured. No room could be completely ordinary in the manor. Alfred found himself imagining a battle within this very room, another tortured guest possibly smashing a bottle of liquor and holding it out against a monster in an attempt to protect themselves. The absurdity of the mental picture caused a few chuckles to slip from Alfred's lips. It really wasn't funny at all. It was terrifying, and yet he could not help himself. He poured himself a shot of whiskey and brought it to his lips, downing it at once. He was about to pour another when he heard movement behind him. His eyes narrowed as he turned, lifting the bottle of whiskey as though he were about to swing.
"What do you wa-" He stopped abruptly when he realized that he recognized the face of his newest guest. He lowered the bottle considerably.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 14, 2013 13:22:06 GMT -6
Someone was coming.
Vietnam blinked blearily from her position under the poker table. She hadn’t remembered falling asleep. She’d stumbled into this room yesterday and crawled under there. Comforted by the darkness of the table and warmth of the ground. She hadn’t been thinking about protecting herself…too tired. But after at least a few weeks of wandering round the mansion, Kim-Ly had grown sloppy. There was no concept of time. No concept of escape. She hated it.
But now, confronted with the approaching footsteps (they sounded familiar. Why did they sound familiar?), the woman was very much awake. She slipped out from under the table and into the space between the door and the wall. Peering out through the crack as she strained to see who it…
America. Out of all the nations, it had to be him, didn’t it?
Kim-Ly grimaced, and moved out from behind the doors. It was odd being in the same room as the other nation without his knowledge. Voyeuristic in the worst sense because this was America and Kim-Ly wanted nothing to do with him.
Hell, that was even an understatement. He could be on one of his godforsaken rocket ships headed at light speed for Pluto and Kim-Ly still would want to be further away from Alfred. She didn’t need his help with the South China Sea anyways. Her bosses needed his help, because they were misguided enough to think that you could deal with China diplomatically. You couldn’t have “Diplomatic” and “China” in the same sentence. She loved her children, but sometimes they were stupid.
“ You can’t stand here forever… ,” urged a voice in her head. Kim-Ly shifted her weight to on foot uncomfortably, gripping her oar tightly as she could. She didn’t have to make the decision to talk though, because a mere second later, the blonde had whirled around, holding a bottle of whiskey out towards her. Obviously, it was meant as a threatening gesture.
Kim-Ly raised a brow, looking dubiously down towards the lowered bottle and then back towards the American’s face. His eyes were as blue as ever.
Stupid.
“America,” she smirked grimly. “I always could hear you from a mile away. Tell me, do you admire elephants? Or just seek to emulate their girth?” She shrugged innocently, before shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter I guess. You certainly don’t seem fit to answer right now.”
She walked forward, surveying the blonde now that he was turned towards her. Had he met any monsters yet? The light was dim, but as far as Kim-Ly could tell, he looked relatively unharmed. She looked around him to the empty shot glass, sides still glistening with the remnants of whiskey and grimaced. Her nose wrinkled, the whole room stunk of the stuff.
“Well. I certainly don’t want that . I’ve always preferred wine myself.” She shook her head and her lips curved down into a frown as she raised the paddle enough to breach the space between them. It pressed against his chest, where she knew his heart would be.
“No. I have more…important….business to discuss with you.”
If anyone could tell her how to get out. It was the idiot in front of her.
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Post by America on Apr 14, 2013 13:49:03 GMT -6
Well, it wasn't a monster, but it certainly wasn't the first person that he wanted to see.
"America," came her greeting. Two could play at that game.
'Vietnam," He responded in kind. He was relieved that she was no monster from the manor set out to attack him, but he was still tense. He had no idea what to call their relationship toward each other outside of the manor, honestly. She was not a straightforward enemy, but was certainly no friend either. Regardless, the manor was a different animal. The manor forced him to interact with people he ordinarily wouldn't. He would have given Kim-Ly a wide berth outside of the manor, but here? Here she was just another prisoner.
Here they might just be forced to work together to get out, and that was something he was taking into consideration. Even if her mere presence made him want to turn back around and slam down several more shots of whiskey.
“I always could hear you from a mile away. Tell me, do you admire elephants? Or just seek to emulate their girth?”
...did she just make a fat joke?
Pushing that aside Alfred raised a brow, surveying her in much the same fashion she was surveying him. She looked healthy enough, certainly not like a woman who'd tangled with any monsters recently. So they were in the same boat. Neither met face to face with any monsters. Alfred knew it was inevitable, though. He was only biding his time until he met a monster face to face, and the longer he had to wait the more it played at his mind.
Kim-Ly might be insulting him, annoying him, but it was better than the alternative for certain.
"I had one shot, I'm not that much of a lightweight." Alfred retorted. He was by no means drunk. Hell, he was hardly even buzzed. It would take a few more shots before he started to feel drunk. He kept his eyes trained on her, trusting her more than some unknown monster but not by much. His hand slipped down to the gun in his holster as she prodded her paddle against his chest, as if he were ready to draw at a moment's notice.
"What can I help you with, Kimmy?" The butchering of her name was intentional, to show that he did not feel threatened by her paddle. And also, admittedly, to get a rise out of her. It would probably be in his best interests not to annoy her (and he realized this), but old habits die hard.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 14, 2013 14:50:43 GMT -6
His tone was as cold as she thought it would be. But she was surprised, he responded to her greeting? What a surprise. Manners were always a novelty when it came to America.
"I had one shot, I'm not that much of a lightweight."
Kim-Ly had to stop herself from laughing at that. And even then, the corner of her lip twitched rather suspiciously. “Oh yes. I’m very aware that you aren’t light. All those hamburgers and all,” The woman paused, looking very much like a cat that had just devoured the household canary. It wasn't everyday thats he could get away with such immaturity. She was going to enjoy it. “You set yourself up for that one, can’t be angry at me for jumping at the opportunity.”
“That’s what they call you right? The land of opportunity?” Despite the lighthearted tone of voice, and subtle smirk ever present on her face, the rest of her face told a different story. Her paddle pressed slightly harder into his chest, as she gazed determinedly at the other nation’s face. Daring him to respond with some equally spiteful. It was the tone of someone who hadn’t quite gotten over the bitterness of a past slight.
Which Kim-Ly hadn’t. Not when her people still died, and America’s went around relatively unharmed from the whole thing.
Not fair, not fair, not fair...
The smirk faded. Kimmy? What type of name was that? It was bad enough that he would even dare refer to her by her human name. That was personal, besides He was the one named “Alfred”. That was a prissy name if she ever heard one. “I’m sorry, but not all of us can have “Fucker” as our middle name,” quipped the girl sweetly, referring to the mysterious initial that always seemed to appear on official documents.
Alfred Fucker Jones. Vietnam decided that it had a nice ring to it.
Her eyes were caught by the movements of his hands, and quickly darted down to his holster, where one rested, before returning to rest on his face. Well. She DID have her paddle pressed against his chest, so she didn’t suppose that was all too surprising. Kim-Ly was half-tempted to mention it –but the idea of making a joke out of him shooting her…well. It didn't serve her ends to make it anymore tense.
“Pleasantries aside, America, I want to leave. This is a great game you’ve led us all into. An ace prank. I’m laughing. Really.” For less than a second, desperation flashed through her eyes, before her gaze hardened, just as quickly. Vietnam forced herself to focus on the American’s glasses. Anything but those stupid eyes. “Just tell me how to get out, and I’ll leave you to your soon-to-be-drunken-stupor.”
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Post by America on Apr 14, 2013 15:45:26 GMT -6
He responded to her greeting because it felt like the only choice that he had. Her presence grated on him, along with every insult that spilled from her mouth, and yet he wanted to have someone around. No, it wasn't a want. It was a need. He was going crazy without someone else around. Hell, even in his home he had Tony to keep him company. Tony would be a welcome companion in this place...
For now, though, he'd have to make due with Kim-Ly.
Alfred could not help but smirk. Yes, the fat jokes annoyed him. His weight was a well known contention point, and she was digging her nails right into it. Like hell he'd show her that, though. He knew how to posture - The Cold War was filled with several decades of it. "Is that really all you have? Remarks about my weight?" Alfred pretended to yawn.
That said, as annoyed as he was with her, there was a small inkling of respect there. Kim-Ly was a strong woman, there was no doubt about that, with an acid tongue to match. If he had to have a verbal spar with someone other than Russia, Vietnam made a nice partner.
Beats the alternative, Alfred thought to himself.
The name ploy worked. He'd pissed her off and he knew it. He chuckled, his chuckle turning into laughter when she made her remarks concerning his middle name. Yes, laughter. He found that one amusing rather than insulting.
"You're just jelly," Alfred responded between guffaws. "We can't all have names as cool as mine though." He remarked with a tilt of his cowboy hat. Even he knew that he was being beyond ridiculous in this case, but he was relishing every moment of it. He was actually having fun rather than suffering in silence, waiting for the manor to send something after him at long last. Hell yes he was going to take advantage of it!
Her next words caused the laughter to abruptly die upon his lips. He wished that he could bring it back, but the reality of the situation was already crashing down on him like a wall of bricks. Part of him despised her for bringing the subject back to the forefront. The other was relieved. Someone else actively concerned with getting out of the god forsaken manor.
God forsaken. Never had that adjective described something so well as it did the manor...
“Just tell me how to get out, and I’ll leave you to your soon-to-be-drunken-stupor.”
"Spoiler alert...you click your slippers together and repeat 'There's no place like home, there's no place like home!'." God, if only it were that simple. The response would likely only incense her further, but it was better than admitting the truth - that he didn't know any better than she did how to get out.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 14, 2013 16:46:59 GMT -6
Kim-Ly looked up lazily. Despite his passé response, Kim-Ly was faintly certain it had to get to Alfred somewhat. And Kim-Ly considered herself very talented at getting under other people’s skin. You couldn’t live with China for 1,000 years and not develop a good sense of stubborn impertinence. The only difference was that Alfred was much more interesting, if anything. China got ruffled up (on the most wonderful way), but America…well, he was America.
“Well, if you REALLY want, I have some pretty great insults about your face too. We wouldn’t have the time for that though.”
As nations, no one was particularly ugly. You had to be accepted by your people, after all. Even Vietnam, whose looks were somewhat average or slightly above by national standards, could not be considered truly ugly. So, America, she guessed, was probably not ugly in his own country. But by her standards…
Well, by Vietnamese standards he was still perfectly acceptable. Stupid globalization.
But, by ancient, Dai Viet standards , America was perfectly hideous. By Dai Viet standards, black teeth were seen as attractive, a feature America was sorely lacked. Still, that didn’t really function as an insult in today’s society. Still, insults did not have to be based on fact.
Patiently, Kim-Ly waited for the other nation to stop laughing. Obviously, still a bit sore after his own comment about her name. She wanted answers.
"Spoiler alert...you click your slippers together and repeat 'There's no place like home, there's no place like home!'."
Kim-Ly’s fingers traced over the handle of her oar anxiously as she lowered it, staring blankly towards the American. “I’m not joking around anymore, this is serious!…I…my people. I promised to walk some kids to school next month…I need to get back in time… Kim-Ly trailed off, and for once, was at a loss for words.
His response could only mean two things: That (a) he was still kidding around. Kim-Ly knew for a fact, that Alfred was rarely a serious nation. And with the amount of insults that Kim-Ly had already spouted out, it wouldn’t surprise her one bit. If that was the case, she could just continue sparring back and forth until he got tired of it. Or try to suck up to the larger nation…but her pride would never let Kim-Ly do that.
The other option was that he really didn’t know. That he had not engineered the whole house as a prank. That he was just as stuck as the rest of them. That there was no easy way out.
”No…” The word escaped her before she could stop it. Kim-Ly shook her head, golden eyes glinting dangerously. “Tell me the truth, Jones. How do I get out?”
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Post by America on Apr 14, 2013 17:26:11 GMT -6
They could probably spend the entire day trading petty insults at the rate they were going. How was that for a distraction from their dismal circumstances?
“Well, if you REALLY want, I have some pretty great insults about your face too. We wouldn’t have the time for that though.”
He chuckled in response to this. To the contrary, he was fairly certain that they had all the time in the world. Nevertheless,. he responded in kind, not seeing fit to bring attention to that matter. "I'll pass, thanks."
Vietnam wanted answers that he could not provide. If only it were a prank designed by him. He would be laughing his ass off at how worked up everyone was in that case. But this was no prank. He was just as much a hostage of the manor as everyone else.
"I’m not joking around anymore, this is serious!…I…my people. I promised to walk some kids to school next month…I need to get back in time…"
Alfred's smile faded abruptly at these words, guilt seeping in as the mood in the room did a 180. It would have been much easier if she simply snapped at him. Here was Kim-Ly all but admitting that the manor was getting to her and she wanted out. She could admit to more than he was. She was asking for the truth, but he did not want to give her the truth, much less admit the truth to himself. They were trapped, trapped like sardines, for who knew how long. Maybe they would never get out. Maybe they'd be doomed to this for the rest of eternity. Maybe...
Maybe he was letting his paranoia get to him just a bit too much.
"How do I get out?” Ah yes, that was the million dollar question, wasn't it?
"I'm still working on that one," came his eventual response. It was as close as Alfred wanted to come to providing the answer (or lack thereof). Outright saying that he didn't know felt like giving up hope, the last thing that he wanted to do. Yet at the same time, his comment indirectly conveyed the very truth that Vietnam was looking for - that he was just as lost as the rest of them. So much for the answers that she was seeking.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 14, 2013 18:06:23 GMT -6
"I'm still working on that one,"
So she was right then. He didn’t know. Vietnam decided that she was right too often. She hated being right. There was nothing wrong with being wrong once in a while…or..or…
“You don’t know, huh? Okay, I understand. I understand perfectly.” Diminished, Kim-Ly stared down at the carpet, and for a long time she was quiet as the full extent of the situation hit her full on in the face. Kim-Ly sucked in her breath. Someone had just punched Vietnam in the stomach. That had to explain this feeling. She leaned heavily into her rice paddle, feeling more like an old woman than ever. “Shit, I’m not dreaming this time am I?” Vietnam was still staring at the ground, unwilling to believe that the American was there, unwilling to accept what he had just told her, “Fuck.”
It would have been easy to think she was dreaming; she could still probably convinced herself. For the past several weeks, she had convinced herself that the whole think had been some stupid prank (it would certainly explain America’s debt problem. Building all the monsters would have cost a fortune). But he didn’t know…stupid. Idiot.
Who she was calling the idiot, well, Vietnam didn’t know.
Slowly she looked up towards the other nation, surprised, as if she had forgotten he had been standing there. ”So. You led all the nations into a death trap.” She straightened, voice dangerously soft, “Not so heroic now, are you, Hoa Kỳ”
And without warning, she swept her rice paddle into the air, bringing it down onto the bar’s countertop with a sharp clack. Several bottles fell to the ground, soaking the rug with their contents. “That’s not good enough!” Her lips curled into a sneer, “Did you think I had forgotten that YOU were the one that led us all here? And why? To prove some sense of machismo? Well, fuck that. Now we’re all screwed, and guess who’s responsible?”
Do you think I’d forgotten all you’ve done to me? All you’ve done to the countries you’ve invaded now? She wanted to scream it out, bash her paddle across the side of his head and watch him bend over in pain. Because how do you accurately express your feelings for someone who, some decades ago had made your life hell…and then decided to continue that spree by trapping you in a mansion full of monsters?
But she didn’t. She didn’t tell America that he’s probably ruined countless lives. And she didn’t use her oar against him.
Instead, she dropped the oar.
And punched him in the face instead.
((Nah, don’t worry about it :) Sorry for Kimmy’s language in this
Hoa Kỳ= United States))
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Post by America on Nov 16, 2013 12:35:52 GMT -6
Alfred watched with baited breath as he waited for Kim-Ly to process what he'd just told her.
“You don’t know, huh? Okay, I understand. I understand perfectly.”
The words sounded benign, but Alfred - he wasn't fooled. He knew that wouldn't be Kim-Ly's only reaction. He was barely scratching the surface. Sure enough, after another moment or so of eerie silence (silence that not even Alfred dared to break), Kim-Ly spoke once more. ”So. You led all the nations into a death trap. Not so heroic now, are you, Hoa Kỳ?”
"I didn't exactly think-"
His eyes widened as Kim-Ly continued on her diatribe. There was that storm that he was expecting. He would be lying if he said he didn't think that he deserved it to some extent, but that didn't mean that he would take everything that she was saying lying down. Yes, he'd screwed up, but anyone could have made the same mistake! How many people went into haunted houses thinking that they were actually haunted with the sort of supernatural, demonic forces within the manor?
"I came here cause I thought it would be fun. Really, how many haunted houses turn out to be actually haunted? Not too many of them." It certainly wasn't the best idea in retrospect, but he honestly hadn't thought that he was leading them into any real danger. Oh how wrong he turned out to be.
He would have left it there. That short little explanation that really didn't explain much at all. He would have left it there if she hadn't proceeded to punch him in the face. He expected her to get upset. He expected her to yell. He didn't expect her to punch him in the face. Alfred managed to duck his nose out of the way, but the fist still grazed the side of his cheek. His hand flew to his cheek at once, massaging it in an attempt to quell the pain. Forgot how hard she punches, he thought wryly to himself.
"Jeez, I don't think you have to worry about monsters in here. Just throw one of those punches at 'em and they'll think twice about messing with you." Alfred let out a few chuckles. He kept his hand on his cheek as he let out a sigh. "You're not telling me anything I haven't heard before, by the way. I tell myself that every damn day I'm in here. And you know what? Because I got us in this mess, I'm gonna do everything in my power to get us out of it." The words felt empty. He might do everything in his power to get them out of it, but would it be enough? "It may not actually happen, and I understand why people are pissed off at me. But if there's a way in, there's a way out, and I'm gonna find it, dammit." After all, the hope of finding an exit was just about the only thing that kept him going in this place...
[...we'll pretend this didn't take forever. XD]
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