Untouchable
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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 Jan 5, 2014 19:59:23 GMT -6
| time falls away but These small hours still remain Tino was so tired of being on edge, so tired of paranoia, that when he found the pull-down ladder up into the attic, he decided, ‘why not?’ and climbed up into it. Tino wasn’t a fool; he did proceed with caution, but he might not have taken a lead so willingly a few months ago (Months? Had it really been that long?). Each rung of the ladder creaked and cracked from his weight as dust scattered with each increasing step. Ever so cautiously, he poked his head up into the attic, half expecting to have to drop back down to avoid decapitation. Instead, he saw a dimly lit room with cool light filtering through stained windows. Taking another change, Tino crawled up into the space and drew a knife. Ever so slowly, he worked his way through the room, checking behind old wooden crates and moth-bitten curtains. His scan of the room told him that he was the only one here, at least for now. So Tino Vainamoinen put away his knife and debated what course of action to take next. He stood for a few moments, debating an attempt at sleeping here safely tucked in a corner, or looking for a way out, or even just standing here to enjoy the silence, but Tino eventually took note of the boxes that scattered the room. They were almost to the height of his thigh… something could be inside. He wandered up to one, but in doing so, he noticed something in the corner of the room. “Is that a chest?” he murmured aloud, pausing before he walked over. An old sheet was half draped over it, and Tino pulled the worn cloth and gently set in on the ground. It rippled like waves before Tino stood curiously in front of what looked like an old trunk. He knelt down, squatting so his eyes were level with the lock on it. Unable to resist temptation, he touched the lock before noting that it was rusted badly. Straightening himself, he gave the lid of the chest a tug, but it held firm. “Hm..” Tino leaned back down, eyes locked on the rusted hinge of the lock. Maybe if he… Taking a throwing knife from his arsenal, he wedged it between the wood and the reddish metal. Leaning hard on it, he felt the metal give a long groan before a sudden -POP- and Tino lost his balance and nearly toppled over with the sudden give of the clasp. Curiosity plagued him as he eagerly flipped open the chest, and lone beyond! It was an old trunk of clothes! “Huh, all that work for just some old garments…” But Tino didn’t really mean the comment. He liked old clothing, especially his traditional garb. And this trunk… hm… Tino was no expert, but these clothes looked like they were from a few centuries prior. They definitely weren’t of the current time, whatever year they were actually in. He glanced around, and while he never felt at ease in the Manor, the hair on the back of his neck was not standing on end. It couldn’t hurt to look at some of these, or maybe even try a few on, strictly speaking for warmth… or something. Tino picked up one of the first items, which was an old fashioned dress with a corset. He scrunched his nose. “Not a chance, unless someone paid me with my weight in vodka first.” With a huff, he set it aside. Next he found what looked like an old dress suit and tophat. Grinning, he tossed off his ‘Chuckie’ costume and suited up in the old fabric. It was musty, after having been in a trunk for god knows how long, but Tino uncovered an old verticle mirror that he strutted by before laughing at how silly he looked. Tino’s smile only disappeared when he heard the rungs of the ladder creak once more; someone or something was coming. Diving for his weapons, he prepared to let a throwing knife fly at first sight of whatever came through the latched door in the floor. WORDS! 879 TAGS! Tino and Emil NOTES! Anyone want to play Dress-up with me? XD Also musiccc | |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 22, 2014 15:07:00 GMT -6
The pungent stench of dried blood and damp paper filled Vash’s nostrils, causing him to stir—the smell of the blood would have been enough to make anyone double over. He took a deep breath and immediately regretted it, the coughing hurting his chest even more than the cold, hard floor ached at his back. He rolled over, his hand still gripping his petite gun and couldn’t help but let out a low groan. The cold bit at his legs and arms, but that didn’t concern him nearly as much as the sticky substance that appeared to cover him and the floor on which he woke.
He finally opened his eyes, at first it was dark but then he adjusted to the dim setting, quickly able to assess the situation. There had been a fight; blood seemed to be sprayed all across the hallway, most of it collecting around where he was crouching.
What had happened here?
Someone must have died, and by the looks of the blood that was spread far and wide, not without a struggle…and possibly taking their tormentor with them. He frowned, slowly beginning to rise, but keeping as quite as he could. He wasn’t stupid, far from it as a matter of fact, he knew that there were several things wrong here, and he couldn’t remember any of them.
He was paranoid on a good day, but now….now he was far from it, especially since he couldn’t remember a damned thing! He couldn’t help but shiver, the cold—and this feeling of being watched, being prey didn’t help in the matter. He quickly sulked into the shadows of the hallway, feeling far to exposed.
When he moved, he felt a sharp pain in his ankle, it was broken—that much he knew. He cursed inwardly, he was not devoid of cuts and scrapes—as if a wild animal had attacked him….but he didn’t know what. He took a few deep breaths and looked at the pool of blood that he had been laying in. He shook his head.
He couldn’t have died, no…he couldn’t have…he was right here after-all!
He needed to find out what had happened, he needed to know…the blood splatter didn’t match with the injuries that he had attained—no…the patterning on the flood and walls looked as if someone had been hacked to pieces, bit by bit—as if they were dragged around by a wood chipper.
Where was he anyway?
That was another question that he had to concern himself with, but it wasn’t quite so important to label an unfriendly location as it was to know just how much it wanted to kill you, and to find a way out. He surveyed the darkest corners of the room again, still not able to shake off the feeling of being watched. He found it harder to hold his hands steady than usual—something that wasn’t typical of the nation, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Then another thought struck him.
Where was Lili?
His fear slowly elapsed into panic as he tried to wrack his brain to see if she had been with him—if they had come to this place together…he hoped not. But either way, he had to know for sure—he had to get some sort of sign to know for sure that she wasn’t here somewhere. She couldn’t be, surely he wasn’t irresponsible enough to bring the one person he worried for most to a place such as this?
But…did he even come here of his own free will? That he couldn’t recall either, was he taken—was he searching for something? Had a war broken out again? Was he in some sort of mental hospital? Or was he a prisoner? Had Lili been kidnapped?
He shook his head a little, trying to rid himself of those thoughts, he couldn’t panic—he wasn’t allowed to panic. No—he had to find out what had happened, just exactly what was going on. And more importantly, he had to make sure Lili wasn’t here, that she was safe in their home.
He only became more on edge when he heard creaking—noises coming from just around the corner. He directed his gun in that direction, expecting for something to come out at him….but after a few moments, nothing did.
He resolved that he would have to investigate, at least find something that would give him some sort of information. He slowly crept in the direction of the noise…still expecting something to come out at him.
His gaze narrowed, gradually being able to make out a ladder—someone else was here…someone who he could potentially talk to…if it wasn’t the same person that spilled all of that blood in the hallway.
He slowly made his way up to the ladder, he saw the fresh set of tracks in the dust. This was definitely where the noise had come from. He took a deep breath and took one last look around—the sensation of being watched only growing stronger as he drabbed the first rung. He didn’t like the idea of his back being exposed—especially not when he was feeling like he was watched. But nor did he like looking up into a hole where it was dark and lead off to seemingly nowhere.
He took a deep breath and mounted the ladder, his left hand holding firmly onto his gun and ready to whip it around and shoot if needed. He trained his ears to be alert for even he quietest sound, and he began climbing up the ladder. As he got nearer to the top, he began picking up sound—the sound of boots? He wasn’t entirely sure, but the sound was definitely walking—and based on his judgment, someone who wasn’t overly large either.
Size never really mattered though, he knew that all too well. If it had, he would have been demolished in the Second World War…and England would have lost without so much as a fight.
He imagined that this trap door led into a more open area, if it was an attic that he was climbing into. There would be nothing that would separate him from who was up there now, they would be up there, waiting.
Vash closed his eyes for a moment before jumping out of the trap door, his gun aimed forwards and his finger on the trigger. He assessed the room as he looked around, his gaze stopping on the person in front of him.
“Tino?” He asked, his voice quiet. The person in front of him definitely looked like Tino, but he leaned the hard way to never trust what he saw. Anyone could make themselves look like anyone else if they had to. Even if it was him, by the looks of it, he couldn’t really know whether he was friend or foe at this point, especially with the way his daggers were poised and the way he was holding himself.
“Can you tell me what exactly is going on?”
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