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Post by Prussia on Mar 15, 2014 15:41:39 GMT -6
Finding the chapel was no easy task. Gilbert had started to believe that all the talk about there being one here had been mere rumor. It wasn't until he finally stumbled inside that the Prussian saw it with his own eyes. Identifying it as a chapel wasn't all that easy either. The room was in a state of such disrepair that Gilbert had to check twice just to be sure of what all he was looking at.
Someone had loved this place once. He could see where draped curtains had hung upon the walls. The bars were snapped now, leaving the fabric rotting on the floor, those fragile fibers eaten away by mold and nibbling animals. A pair of pews were overturned. Had the family of this land once sat upon them in meditation or contemplation to seek advice from a Higher Power? If so, what drove them from worshiping in this place to destroying it?
Prussia failed to find any sign of a holy object left in the space. The altar was stripped bare. Someone -- something? -- had smashed part of it. He touched upon the splintered mouth of that broken spot with a frown. Not even this was spared. Whatever blessed energy was in it was long gone. All presence of the holy was gone. Gilbert felt the void of it surrounding him. Turkey had planted the idea in his mind that he might be able to find evidence of good in this place; now he knew that had been naive.
It wasn't what he'd been hoping for. What here was, really? It would have to serve his purposes just as it was. Even if it could barely be called a chapel anymore it was the closest thing he was going to find around here. Gilbert set to work trying to salvage it however he could. It was easy to rip off a chunk of fabric from the old curtains. He bunched it up to start wiping the layers of dust from the top of the altar to expose the wood. Having the cloud of dust in his face caused the Prussian to sneeze powerfully. Gilbert's face tucked into his sleeve until the air was clear. He muffled the sound of his remaining sneezes into it. If anything had heard the initial burst of noise, it was already too late, yet continuing to pinpoint his location with that sound was dangerous.
Gilbert waited to hear any growls or creaking floorboards outside. He ended up not hearing a thing. The lack of sound helped him relax, and he returned to his task. Soon the altar was cleared off to the best of his ability, with only a few stubborn streaks of dust left behind. It at least gave a vague impression that if he did try to pray then someone might lend an ear in passing. Though by now the only one that the albino cared to do such a thing for was himself. The old ritual gave him comfort when little else could here. Gilbert settled in front of the altar, eyes closing as he tried to think of what he should pray about when there was so much to cover.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 19, 2014 8:22:02 GMT -6
It was raining again but the woman no longer cared. As little as she cared, she tried to remain on the path so that her insensible heels would sink in the mud but she was not trying very hard. The sky continued it’s dreary weeping, a mere drizzle but enough to soak the walking woman to the bone and cast her complexion with a ghostly paleness that matched the hollowness sin her eyes. This place, this place was evil, she knew that now for sure and for as strong as Hungary was, there was no means of training hat could prepare anyone, not even a nation, for the horrors that this estate held. It felt like an eternity since she had left the bowels of the house, to try and reach the min gate, but some sort of creature had chased her back onto the grounds and she had taken shelter before in the chapel so why wouldn’t the building offer some sort of sanctuary nice again for her?
That was her current destination, even though she could see the lights of the main house, the manor, but even the cold was not a large enough threat to make her return to the horrid place. Slow and stiff steps brought the woman close to the much smaller, sadder building that once probably was a stunning whitewash, adorned with flowers and a well-kept lawn, now it was nothing more than a decrepit shack cast in the looming shadow of the plantation house. Elizabeta was cold, she could admit that much, her feminine body shaking bad, but the more the haze of rain socked through her minimal clothing, her pitiful excuse for attire which had been meant for a night of drunken dancing not running to save her skins across a monster’s paradise. Unfortunately, and possibly problematic, Hungary could no feel the rain, she was numb to it, and even the green shade of her eyes looked a bit paler to match her skin as the rain continued to sap her warmth and strength away, her mind replaying the horrifying sights she had already bore witness to.
“Okay, time to buck up Liz…” she mumbled to herself, trying to spur some sort of feelings form her own words, but self-motivation wasn’t helping much. Elizabeta saw herself as a strong person, keen on her morals and believing in herself, difficult to sway and tough as any man, but this place had really beaten her up, down to the core. If she thought about it, she could probably stir herself into a crazed fit of laughter to think that she actually thought that this place was a party, that Austria had been fooling around with her, and the reason why she had an terrible feeling about the place was because America had done such a good job with the Halloween theme. Oh how she had been wrong. Thinking of Roderich only roused a deeper frown to depress her features; she couldn’t even remember how they had become separated, actually she couldn’t remember much except for flashes and segments but she had already supposed that that was just a consequence of the whole evilness of the place.
Truth be told, Hungary was scared, yes it was true, she could get scared and she could get lonely and desperate for any sort of familiar company because that was possible too. True she was a fierce fighter, a warrior, tough as diamonds and could punch almost as hard but that didn’t mean that fear was absent form her being in any way. This was especially was true when she only had a small dagger to protect herself with and was only wearing a soaked saloon girl outfit, o whatever you would call her costume, that exposed too much skin and yet still made her legs look a mile long with her thigh high black boots. Finally, through the faint fog and the water droplets caught upon her long eyelashes, Elizabeta found herself only steps from the chapel’s doors, finding her way back as her teeth chattered and arms shook.
What a pathetic image she painted… that thought more than anything brought slight tear to herself, which she made a point of wiping away; this was certainly not the place for idiotic and useless tears. The best chance she had now was to get inside and out of the rain, which was the first step in the right direction and out of the cold and muck. Fingers, numbed from the fingers, unlocked themselves from her wet self-embrace and gripped the metal of the door to pull; thankfully the door as still unlocked. Quiet as a timid mouse, she slipped her form inside and closed the heavy door behind her, sliding the old lock in place, and pressed her wet back against the warmed interior of the door. Hanging her head, breathing slowly, her wet hair had some out of her ponytail and was hanging in clinging stranded abound her face, water dripping from the ends and from her skirts to create a small ring of a puddle to mark her existence. Finally, after walking for who knows how long, to repeat her previous entry in the place, Elizabeta slipped down to the floor to land in her own puddle to form a sodden, depressed, slightly still in shock shade of her former self-confident and beautiful glory.
It was her defeated form, her cold, and her lack of caution which caused Hungary to fail to see right away that she was actually not alone in the chapel, that when she lifted her head to look across the room, how ironic that it would be none other than the devil himself whom she would see? She made no sound, made no move, just stared, wide-eyed at the other occupant in the chapel, water and cold blurring her vision and her fear spurring her to jump to irrational conclusions. Those red eyes, that white hair… wait. Wait a second…. Her brow twitched as the possibly broke through her fear and a spark of personality was enough to warm her trembling lips to say, “I swear Gilbert if that actually is you….” before a glimmer of hope made her shake in addition to her rainy state but suspicion also roused its ugly head into her mind and her and slipped to the skin of her thigh, her finger touching the metal of her small dagger strapped there.
I assumed that Gil is still wearing his devilish costume... *cough*
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Survivor
22.
Played by Hat.
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Post by Prussia on Mar 25, 2014 18:44:52 GMT -6
Gilbert had settled into a sense of peace as he began to pray. It was calming for him, had always been. He said a prayer for his friends scattered throughout this trying place. A few were said for his brother despite the fact that the Prussian knew his sibling would likely endure all of this better than himself. And of course Gilbert couldn't resist a few prayers for himself, selfish as he was. Nothing too extravagant or demanding. It wasn't too much to hope for escape, was it? Or that he might manage to get through the week without suffering a grievous fate?
The sound of his praying was almost inaudible. That was the way he had learned how to do so. Quiet, private -- for his benefit alone and not as a spectacle for the ears of other people. People shouting prayers made him uncomfortable. Likely the reason why he always switched the channels once his beloved infomercials ended and the religious programming began. His lips were moving to shape the words, and with his eyes shut the Prussian's face was serene. He was benefiting from this even if his requests went unanswered. In these few minutes his brain was silent, organized, sharp.
When he heard the door closing behind him, that peace was shattered as the albino's body tensed. His eyes flew open to stare ahead of where he was kneeling. It had been folly to leave his back exposed. He had slipped up in leaving himself vulnerable to whatever might have come in through. Gilbert was reluctant to turn around and see. Moving might have drawn more attention to him. If he was a little lucky then whatever had come inside would miss seeing him where he was kneeling in the darkness. Plus, the Prussian knew from watching so many horror films that once someone turned around to see what was creeping behind him it usually ended in a violent death.
He waited with held breath to see what would happen. The mysterious invader behind him was shuffling around across the dusty floor. He could hear the creak of the boards. Gilbert knew that if he remained frozen like this he would have no defense if attacked. His hands slowly unclasped, right one lowering carefully down to rest upon the chill metal of the gun in his possession. He spread his fingers over it to grip it so tightly that the metal bit into his skin. Ignoring this, Gilbert braced himself then turned his head to the side to risk the potentially fatal look over his shoulder to see what was here in this space with him.
Well.
What he certainly had not been expecting was to find the sight of a Hungarian, resembling a drowned rat. Gilbert watched Eliza continue to move around in the area behind him. He didn't want to spook her with any sudden movements. The woman's doe eyes and pouty lips might have fooled other people into feeling sorry for her. Prussia knew better. Eliza was as defenseless as a mountain lion; her threat level only intensified with her unhappiness. From his angle he could see that she looked soaked to the bone. The woman's hair had been dragged down flat by the elements. In retrospect, as Gilbert watched her trying to get settled in, he decided that turning around to see a monster about to eat him might have been a better outcome.
Eliza finally noticed him. He saw her tense just as he had when he'd heard her. Hearing the sound of his name spoken, his free hand lifted up in a small waving gesture. Gilbert spread on a crooked grin that he didn't genuinely feel and rose to stand so that he could fold his arms across his chest in a cocky pose. "You look like you fell into a lake. Didn't anyone ever tell you that it was a bad idea to go playing in the water when it's so cold outside?"
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Post by Deleted on Mar 26, 2014 12:10:58 GMT -6
"You look like you fell into a lake. Didn't anyone ever tell you that it was a bad idea to go playing in the water when it's so cold outside?"
Oh fate… thou art a cruel bitch.
In response to the Prussian, Hungary rolled her eyes and scoffed, adjusted her position stiffly before settling back against the door, her eyes set evenly upon the white-haired freak. Oh all the people… why did it have to be him? Hell, next to Gilbert, she would have chosen a monster. The man had spoken two sentences and he had already pissed off Elizabeta, who was totally not in the mood or state to deal with his bullshit. Frowning and near glaring at her ‘friend,’ Eliza started to run her hands over her arms, trying to rid herself of some water.
“You, it had to be you! Oh, just my luck to lock myself up with none other but you, dear Gilbert. No, I didn’t fall into a lake, you ass… It’s raining outside or are you too dense to notice even that?”
Her words came out hotter than what her body was feeling, though the anger felt good, it felt familiar, and thus began the dance she and Prussia had been dancing for… well, a long time now. True that once upon a time she, though Eliza saw herself as a boy then, and Gil had been as tight as friends could be, roughing it out, picking on other countries and enjoying it all. Then however, Hungary had to grow up and, to put it simply, Prussia hadn’t and now he was an all-around dick who went out of his way to pick on and prank her. It was a shame, and something she thought a lot about, because even she could not deny that even with all of his teasing and being a jerk, she still considered him a friend, though at that moment slugging him in the face would surely bring her some sweet satisfaction after the day she’s had.
Busying herself with taking out her wet hair form her ponytail, wringing out most of the water, before letting it fall into wet lock down her back, Eliza embraced herself, sucking in a shaky breath and shivered; damn it was cold in here, or was it just her? Probably just her… Even if she thought him irritating, she had to agree with Prussia, she was a sopping mess, but thankfully her makeup was waterproof so no raccoon eyes, though appearances were the least of her worries at the moment. Bringing her trembling fingers before her eyes, she frowned that they were pruning and how pale her skin was but brushed that all aside; with Prussia present there was no way she’d show weakness.
Forcing herself to stand, suing the door to help her, Elizabeta managed to stand straight before crossing her arms in an attempt to conceal some of her shaking and possibly accompany her unimpressed frown that Prussian teasing was not wanted. Walking forward, she made it halfway up the aisle before she stopped, caution prohibiting her from going any further because, well… how exactly could she know that this was really Gilbert? Or as she just getting too paranoid for her own good? Water still dripped form her figure but she made not attempts to wipe herself off now. For now, she’d let Prussia make the next move, prove to her that it was really him, maybe, but hell no she was getting any closer.
“So, Gilbert, to what pleasure do I owe this reunion?” She asked with a twitch of her brow, before she frowned more and in a quieter tone she asked, voice breaking slightly from the cold in her lips, “W-What are you doing here?”
It was a loaded question, because why were any of them here? In this place, this evil, accursed place… what had they done to deserve it? Live through centuries, surviving numerous wars, famines, plagues, and centuries was a decent enough reason, but moreover, Hungary was asking that out of all the nations she could have met, why was it him? A chapel was not the first place she would have thought to find the Prussian, but she admitted that it did make sense and it was her own fault for being as surprised, as she had been, to find him here. Still, with danger lurking seemingly everywhere, a place of former solace and tranquility, like the chapel they were standing in, seemed almost cliché. Surely, if there was a God, or some other deity, they had looked over this place to allow such malice and evil creatures roam free upon the earth.
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Survivor
22.
Played by Hat.
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Post by Prussia on Apr 1, 2014 2:53:02 GMT -6
“You, it had to be you! Oh, just my luck to lock myself up with none other but you, dear Gilbert. No, I didn’t fall into a lake, you ass… It’s raining outside or are you too dense to notice even that?”
Gilbert's head tilted to the side as he listened to Eliza's hot-voiced demands. That spice in her voice, with the layers of fondness and displeasure mingled together, was a familiar note to his ears. As clever as the Manor was, and as keen on duplicity as it had proven, Gilbert knew it could never hope to replicate the tone of a woman his own history was so intricately linked with. He didn't require any further evidence to prove that this was Eliza in the flesh rather than a tricky illusion.
When she stopped approaching him, the Prussian took it upon himself to make the rest of the trip. The vaguely predatory gait of his steps likely didn't comfort the woman much, but then again that had always been part of Gilbert's cocky swagger. "Is it raining outside? I try not to go out anymore. It's not safe out there in the open, you know?" And it's not much safer in here either but there's no sense in alarming her any worse, was his additional thought left unspoken.
He came to a stop just in front of the shivering woman. By the stance he took on, feet planted and chest wide, he was letting her know without having to say it that if she were going to attack him out of fear then he'd accept the brunt of it. Nothing in the Prussian's face gave the impression that Gilbert was feeling hostile. Red eyes were making a slow passage over Eliza from the dripping strands of her hair to the sodden tips of her boots, taking it all in. Gilbert's gaze was snared on the path back up. They hovered for a few seconds in the direction where the damp fabric of Eliza's shirt clung to her shapely assets. The Prussian's face twitched aside as he flinched his stare away before it became inappropriate.
Acknowledging Elizabeta's femininity was a concept he'd long accepted. The woman wore make-up, pranced around in high heels, and often wore dresses. So did Poland. It was nice now and then to pretend that everything had gotten just a little fudged up along the way, that his rough and tumble playmate of his youth had merely been going through a gender crisis, so that there was still a chance Elizabeta might one day turn up at his door with shorn hair and a deep, manly voice telling him that it was all an elaborate prank.
The visible evidence of her breasts in front of him eradicated that more comfortable pretend scenario. He coughed awkwardly, the tips of his ears catching fire, with that color of red spreading like a wildfire over the rest of Gilbert's face. His distraction with that discomfort caused him to almost miss her quietly spoken words. “So, Gilbert, to what pleasure do I owe this reunion? W-What are you doing here?”
"I thought it would help. If anywhere in this shitty place could give me a little peace, I figured it'd be here. So far it's turning out to be a stupid idea." He mumbled quickly. Still unable to meet the woman's eyes or look at her directly. If he didn't control his reaction hastily enough then he was likely to get hit. Especially if Eliza misread his behavior to believe he was being perverted. Far from it, in fact.
Gilbert broke his stance as he started shrugging off the devil's hoodie that topped the layers of his costume. The fabric was dirty in places, torn in others, yet when the Prussian moved to place it around Eliza's shaking shoulders it was still imprinted with the albino's body heat. He tugged it around her torso with quick motions. The gesture might have gone smoother if he wasn't making every effort to avoid any contact with her breasts. It was like those things were loaded weapons pointed in his direction.
There was a brief, impulsive urge in him to embrace her. To reach out, take Eliza into his arms, and hold her until she stopped trembling like that. Gilbert didn't like to see his (because she would always be his first and foremost, Austrians be damned) unshakeable Hungarian so shaken. Of course he didn't go through with it. His hands flexed in the empty air, then he quickly shoved them into the pockets of his jeans where they'd be less likely to cause him trouble. "My question is what are you doing here all alone? Why aren't you sticking with one of the others? It's dangerous to roam on your own, Liz."
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2014 13:48:35 GMT -6
Eliza stiffened when he approached, though her sharp, slightly narrowed eyes never left his until he stood right before her. She didn’t even flinch from his presence, instead she kept he back straight, confident, ready and prepared to fight him, even it looked everything like Prussia, if he should provoke her. He didn’t though of course, for his body language, expression, and his tone said it all: this was Prussia without a doubt. After all, as said before, the pair of them had been very close one upon a time; she knew every white hair on his cocky head, until Hungary had grown tired of Prussia being an all-around douche bag. Now she barely saw him nowadays aside from international, political meetings and whatnot; how ironic that in that moment when she knew that it was him, it took every shred of ego, dignity and strength she had left that hadn’t been sapped by the rain not to smile outright or tear up.
Even with all of her bravado, her toughness, and irritation she’d displayed up to that point, Hungary could not lie to herself that looking up into those unusual, arrogant red eyes didn’t smother some layer of relief around her scared heart, if only to see that the man was safe and sound; Gilbert may be a jerk, but she still cared about him… a lot. Though the relief was a warm welcome, the Hungarian woman didn’t relax her stance, keeping her arms crossed over her chest as she tried to trap any morsel of heat she still might have, undoubtedly promoting her bosom even more, hence poor Prussia’s gaze upon it, though his hesitation upon her for once went unnoticed, or maybe she just didn’t give a damn being as frigid as she was.
Dropping her eyes finally to look at his shoulder, or through it, her mouth formed a thin line as she tried to think of a good reason as to why she had come back here to the chapel and not back to the house. The truth, Gilbert didn’t deserve to hear it. He didn’t need to hear that she had panicked, freaked out, acted irrationally that had almost very well gotten her killed. No, he didn’t need to hear that she was utterly terrified, confused, unprepared for the ordeals of this place, weak, and relieved to have found him of all people. He was smiling, or at least acting casual, so there was no need to worry or upset him at the moment. Looking back up at him when he answered her, Elizabeta’s brow perked up when she saw how red his face was and that he too was adverting her gaze.
"I thought it would help. If anywhere in this shitty place could give me a little peace, I figured it'd be here. So far it's turning out to be a stupid idea."
Frowning, her expression softening from old habit of their bickering, as she inquired slowly, “Whatever you’re imagining better stop…” before a genuine, though small, smile crept on her trembling lips, glad to see that even this deathtrap, hellhole of a place wasn’t enough to deter Gilbert’s naturally perverted, immature mind. “Well I guess it can’t be that stupid since it would appear that we both had the same idea,” she said, thankful for the idle, useless conversation to prolong the heavy, important questions for a later time, “Because we both know that I am not stupid in the least,“ she finished, stiffly unwinding one of her paled arms to poke his hard chest lightly with a finger, a faint edge of playfulness in her tone.
When Gilbert began to undress, the sudden change in his stance actually made Eliza flinch away, like some sort of timid little animal retreating from motion. She covered it up by half-turning away to admire some unknown feature of the room, feeling immediately guilty and almost shy that she had become so jumpy, that she had allowed her nerves to get as rattled and lose as they were that she refused to watch a man, even if it was Gilbert, undress. Taking a deep breath, a thorough shiver coursed through her body, jostling her legs and made her shoulders shrug, but then those same shoulders were suddenly being sheathed by a gloriously warm and dry material. Shooting a shocked and curious look over her shoulder at Gilbert while he draped his sweater over her smaller frame with as much delicacy as if he were dressing a scarecrow, when he lowered his hands, she just stared at him for a moment or two, unable to think or process what he’d just done.
“Ah,” she managed, fluttering her eyelids, shifting to face him again, “Thanks,” she uttered, dropping her gaze, the warmth of her own blush filling her damp cheeks, but while she could have said more, something else to lift the tenderness of the moment away, she kept quiet. She left her appreciation as is, simple and genuine while she unfolded her arms and shifted them into the hoodie’s sleeves. Still not looking up at him, she fumbled with cold and numb fingers with the zipper until she gave up and embraced herself again, hands lost in the too-long sleeves, though this time she did so to absorb all the heat the sweater could offer, willing its material to magically make her dry and warm once again; if this was how much she was enjoying a sweater, she could only imagine how warm Prussia was but… Limitations and sanity, everyone had them, and hugging Prussia, wow…. When was the last time that had happened? Had it ever happened? Surely not since Hungary had come out as a girl… Hell, Prussia had been keeping a five meter perimeter from her since that had happened, as if one touch from her might set him on fire; if she weren’t as cold as she was, she would probably have slapped herself with the absurdity of the thought of burrowing into a warm Prussian chest.
"My question is what are you doing here all alone? Why aren't you sticking with one of the others? It's dangerous to roam on your own, Liz."
Looking up at him when Gil spoke again, her eyes guilty of those thoughts, dread flared through Eliza’ mind and quickly killed her guilty look. Shit… Looking aside quickly, she bit her lip. Not the truth, not the truth, not the… A bright smile appeared on her face and Elizabeta forced her hands to move to her hips, and looked back up at the man. “I could say the same thing to you, Gilbert, so be thankful that I found you when I did! Now we’re both not alone anymore because we both know, you’re useless without me.” Her tone almost could be described as normal, confidant and bright, if not for her shivering, which broke it in places, and the light punch she landed on his shoulder only made her smile shift into a smirk, brow raised, as she matched his hands-in-pockets stance. Oh, his shoulder had been warm indeed…
Her smile hid her panicked thoughts. ‘You see, Prussia? Nothing was out of the ordinary, they were both fine, I’m fine, safe and sound without a scratch, miraculously; there was no need to worry about her. Gilbert, I’m tough, even if I’m a girl, remember? Sure I’m trembling and lying through my teeth, that I’m hoping that whatever had been chasing me outside I lost out there in the haze, rain, and fog, but I’m smiling now so smile back! Okay? You’re not supposed to worry about me, you’re supposed to tease me, hurt my feelings, irritate me, that’s what you do, not worry. If you start doing that…’
Well then this place would have changed Gilbert after all.
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Post by Prussia on Apr 10, 2014 5:01:28 GMT -6
Geez. She looks like she might shake herself to pieces. Gilbert was thinking to himself while Eliza responded to his question. He ended up only half listening to her words as a result. The Prussian blinked sharply, predicted that it was likely the usual disdainful banter directed his way, and smirked appropriately. It wasn't like he'd miss any praise from the Hungarian. Eliza had never felt inspired to send such kindness in his direction. Gilbert wouldn't have known how to handle such an event anyway.
He continued to watch her shivering, lips thinning out. If she didn't get warm soon then exposure would set in, possibly even hypothermia, both being nasty. Pointing it out to her wouldn't help. The Prussian's face turned away from her smiling one to conduct a quick search of their surroundings. He grunted, left hand sliding free of his pocket to beckon her along. "Come on. This should help you."
The only useful fabric in the room was one of the moth-eaten tapestries that had fallen to the floor in a pile of neglect. It was dusty, enough that when the Prussian bent near the wall to slap it away, a cloud went swirling up. He caught some of it in his nostrils, sneezed into his shoulder, and shook the rest off as best he could with an averted face. The thing was heavy, yes, with the threads of the tapestry less than soft. Gilbert only cared that it was dry. He dragged it back over to the Hungarian. "If you sit down and pull your limbs in, you'll keep your body heat in better. One of the tricks I learned when I was kicking around Russia's house all those years. You sit down and I'll get this sucker wrapped around you. Hope you don't mind that it's this dirty."
It seemed fitting to him that all he had to offer Eliza was a dirty old tapestry. Were he like a certain Austrian that would remain unnamed, he probably could have summoned a velvet blanket out of nowhere like a third-rate magician. That jerk was such a pain in the ass and yet he could be so effortlessly smooth sometimes that it made Gilbert envious. He didn't have that polish. He didn't act with refinement. He was barely mannered enough to function within civilized society.
As proof of this, when Gilbert got into range of Eliza, he unceremoniously dumped the heavy fabric right upon the woman's wet head. His head tilted as he realized seconds too late that it probably would have been better to wrap it around her shoulders instead. Oops. The Prussian lifted a hand to his chin while staring at the tapestry with a foxy set of legs sticking beneath it, and decided this was the best time to get sarcastic. "Hm. You know, I can hardly see you at all beneath that thing. It's a good look for you, Liz. You should consider keeping it."
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Post by Deleted on May 1, 2014 16:28:45 GMT -6
Eliza blinked at Gilbert in surprise, curiosity coaxing her to try and follow his line of sight and with some hesitation, followed him. The wind outside howled and if the Hungarian cared to stop and think about it, she’d be impressed that the chapel was in good of a shape as it was, all of its stained glass was whole and little to now rainwater was leaking in. With that said, the chill of the storm made the interior cold, which didn’t help her wet state. Reaching up to flip up the horned hood, tucking in her damp hair, she followed him silently, compliant. She watched him tear down the old tapestry, having an inkling as to what he was trying to do.
"If you sit down and pull your limbs in, you'll keep your body heat in better. One of the tricks I learned when I was kicking around Russia's house all those years. You sit down and I'll get this sucker wrapped around you. Hope you don't mind that it's this dirty."
“Do your worst-“ she managed before the heavy hunk of material was dumped onto her head, even before she was able to go and follow his directions to go sit down, causing her to cough in annoyance; good thing she had her hood up, or else her wet hair would have been covered in dirt, grime, and who knows what else. Sighing while she reached and tugged the heap off her head to lie abound her shoulders. Looking up at him from behind her bangs, smile lost, she rolled her eyes. "Hm. You know, I can hardly see you at all beneath that thing. It's a good look for you, Liz. You should consider keeping it."
“Classy as always, Gilbert…. Thanks,” she mumbled with a grunted sarcasm, shifting the heavy material even more, wrapping it around her with her hands in the too-big sleeves. Smile dead for a few moments already, she turned away from him, a walking hulk of old tapestry with sexy legs apparently. Looking over the dusty, ratty thing, she sighed and nodded, going over to sit on one of the hard pews and doing as he told, brought up her legs and wrapped her arms with her material around them, setting her chin on her knees. Staring ahead, Elizabeta took the moment to collect herself, catch her breath settle her thoughts, and not look at Gil’s smug, white, ugly mug of a face. Cocky bastard… here she was trying to keep him from worrying, freaking out while she dealt with her panic herself, and he didn’t even have the decency of… anything. A few dozen shots back awaited upon her tongue to fire back at the Prussian but she held her silence, green eyes drifting over to the look at the alter where Gil had been when she had entered.
From this angle, she couldn’t begin to figure out what the guy had been up to over there and with a sigh that sent shivers all over her body, Liz found she didn’t care much. Her feet with her thigh-high, tight boots were dry thankfully but still cold and her curls up position on the wooden pew was seriously giving her a bad case of numb-ass, but she didn’t complain. Even if Gilbert was a jerk, the tapestry was doing its work and helping fight off the chill in the air so much so she was hardly shaking anymore, or that could just be proof that her moment of silence was rebuilding up her nerves, her strength, clearing her head and judgment. Given their situation, the more information was the better, knowing your enemy was the first step to victory, and Hungary wanting to shield Gilbert form her pursuer was selfish, childish, and unfair to him
Gilbert was a big boy, he could take the truth and besides, there had been a time when Eliza would have never even thought about keeping a secret from the white-haired bastard.
“Gilbert, I haven’t been completely honest with you, about how I got here,” she began, glancing over at him, face half-hidden by the sweater’s hood.
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Survivor
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Played by Hat.
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Post by Prussia on May 4, 2014 22:41:17 GMT -6
It was obvious that Elizaveta wasn't in any kind of mood to deal with him. His attempt to lighten her mood with the usual teasing had only got him sarcasm out of the woman. Gilbert shrugged off her comment about his classiness. The Prussian knew that he lacked refinement as much as he lacked tact. What brief amount of time he had tried to adhere to the austere behavior of aristocracy, Gilbert had ditched the moment he could afford to. Spending endless hours in grand ballrooms, listening to orchestral performances or operas with Old Fritz -- those luxuries fell to the wayside when it was decided what kind of a nation he would be.
A rival to equal the pampered Austria. A formidable nation built on the roots of religious piety, constructed into a weapon that could conquer. Perhaps if he had been left entirely in the hands of Old Fritz he might have turned out differently. However, it was Fritz the Hard Ass (as Gilbert referred to him behind his back) that had set Prussia upon his path as a soldier nation, and by the time Old Fritz had taken over, Gilbert was already fixed in his ways. No matter how often his mentor and beloved leader tried to culture him with the same things enjoyed by the Austrian courts the Prussian had never been able to grasp the idea of living such an easy life. He'd never claimed to be classy -- certainly not anywhere close to the league Eliza was used to with their mutual Austrian acquaintance.
The cold of the chapel didn't bother Gilbert. No cold did, really. He'd built up an immunity to it long ago. So had he not been thinking about it he would have been fine standing still while Eliza got comfortable. Seeing the woman still shivering despite the tapestry he'd provided made him think he ought to be cold. Gilbert shuddered with the imagined discomfort, beginning to pace back and forth to replenish his heat or at least distract himself. He continued to move around restlessly even when the Hungarian's shivers ceased. His energy was wound too much from the presence of the woman and a resulting feeling of awkwardness.
What the hell was he going to do now? It wasn't like he could just high-five Hungary then take his leave. Fate had brought them together. Gilbert felt responsible for her now that Eliza had come into his company. He wasn't going to be able to remain a one man wolf pack. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck as he considered his options from this point onward. He'd need to protect Eliza from harm, yes, and make sure that she was comfortable in this harsh environment. It was a long time since they had been children together running through wild lands. Would Elizaveta even be used to survival anymore after so long of living in the security of Austria's home and her own past then?
Two things he knew for sure: First, he wasn't going to let anything here harm her if he could prevent it. Second, he'd try really hard not to let her get to that verge of tears again. Having seen such a pitiful face on Eliza had really thrown him off for reasons Gilbert couldn't place. He was still reeling with that discomfort as he peeked in the woman's direction during his pacing. Gilbert knew that Eliza was perfectly capable of getting through bad situations on her own -- he just didn't want her to face those difficult choices if he could manage to arrange it differently. After all. . .
No one was allowed to torment her unless it was him. Huff.
Gilbert's pacing stopped when he heard Eliza speak again. Her words sounded oddly ominous. Perhaps they weren't as in the clear as he suspected? The Prussian frowned as he went to stand in front of Eliza, looking down at her with a furrow to his brow. "What is it? Don't tell me that you had a nasty creature chasing you here. That's so cliche. Kesesese...." His laughter trickled to silence as he stared down at Eliza's half-hidden face. ". . .You didn't, right? That could mean that an enemy could come bursting through the door any second! I'm not ready for such a confrontation."
His face turned away from her to the door when he heard a strange sound. It reminded him of church bells ringing. He would expect that from a church, yet why would such a small chapel have such a noise in it? Gilbert's jaw hardened up as he tracked the sound to being just outside the door of the chapel. "Do you hear that, Liz? It... sounds like a bell tolling."
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Post by Deleted on Jun 11, 2014 21:07:04 GMT -6
The concept of irony was something Elizabeta often thought about. To be perfectly honest, she found the situation quite amusing, almost as if life was making a sarcastic remark at itself for the observant watcher, and if she had been in a different time or place, the Hungarian woman most probably would have laughed right then and there at what Prussia had said or if she could have heard his thoughts. For starters, Prussia’s mind chatter on him feeling the need to stay there and protect here, please… what did she look like, some sort of helpless damsel? Okay, maybe at that moment she didn’t exactly scream brave and fearless warrior shivering and wet as she was, but come on! She was not helpless, not by a long shot, she was just cold and had been having a tough time adjusting to her new, horrific setting.
Huddled under her tapestry as she was, Eliza was fully aware that she painted the pretty pathetic picture and she hated it, she really did. Pulling the old and musty cloth more around her, staring angrily at he wood of the pew before her, she gave a invisible eye roll at the thought that Prussia was probably thinking something along the lines that she had gone soft or something; yes it was true that they didn’t exactly see each other that much anymore, but she still knew him well enough to know. Sighing and trying to focus on bring back feeling into her hands and trying not to look at Prussia, she began to weigh her options of attack, strategy, battle plans, defense and how much of a shit storm was heading her way of she was reading the bad feeling in her stomach correctly. What were the chances out of all of the countries, it had been Gilbert who she would end up getting shacked up with after being chased by some tall, black figure in the fog?
Slim chances that what and there was no such thing as coincidences, everything happened for a reason, but Elizabeta would be damned if she was going to allow some hellish Fate hanging over her head have Prussia come to harm. Hell to the no! No, this was her fight, she had had a moment of cowardice yes, but Gilbert was not going to suffer for it. That thing, whatever it had been, had stalked her, taunted her, chased her and as much as she would have liked to think she had lost it, Eliza was wise enough to know that whatever had been after her probably going to give up easy and that this chapel was simply not the best place for a defensive or offensive position. The problem was though, and Hungary knew this, was that she had a pathetic weapon and looking around the chapel proved nothing better than her little dagger. The wood was all old or rotten, the iron candelabras were much too heavy for a weapon and that was about it; the only good thing she could see was Prussia’s sword but she was not going to strip him of his weapon, though she probably was the better swordswoman.
"What is it? Don't tell me that you had a nasty creature chasing you here. That's so cliche. Kesesese...You didn't, right? That could mean that an enemy could come bursting through the door any second! I'm not ready for such a confrontation."
And we’re back to irony…
Eliza slipped back her hood and looked at Gilbert, an answer on her lips but her tongue froze on the first syllable when her eyes caught his face, but her green eyes held the truth. This wasn’t a joke, as much as the Prussian was trying to make it out to be. Wringing her hands even more beneath her tapestry, Eliza blinked looked away, took a breath, and was about to try again when a sound rippled faintly through the air and the air suddenly dropped about ten degrees. With each toll of what indeed sounded like church bells, Eliza’s face grew paler, her eyes narrowed, and her mouth tightened into a thin line. "Do you hear that, Liz? It... sounds like a bell tolling."
Gilbert, get away from the door,” her words came sure, hard, and firm as she stood, the tapestry fell behind her, the small dagger of hers in hand and she was standing without a tremble or sign of her chill, eyes blazing, “As I was saying, I haven’t been entirely honest with you though even with this nasty creature chasing me, you’ve never really been the knight in shining armor type of guy…” Head steady as he gaze at him, Eliza stepped forward to come beside him, facing the door. “There’s a backdoor, get out now. This is my fight, Gilbert, don’t get in my way, you wouldn’t be able to keep up with me anyway and…. You have no idea what I saw out there in the fog and I don’t want you to”.
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Survivor
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Played by Hat.
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Post by Prussia on Jun 27, 2014 3:45:09 GMT -6
What the hell?
Gilbert shifted his stance so he could keep an eye on the door while also watching Eliza as well. The increase of the cold temperatures didn't bother him. He'd always been immune to it. His only clue that such a severe drop had happened was when his breath puffed out of parted lips in a swirling cloud of mist. "Was I right? You really did have something tailing you here? A little warning would have been nice."
Complaining now wasn't constructive. Whatever it was coming for them was bad enough that it spooked the Hungarian. Gilbert rarely saw her so shaken. Outside, that tolling sound was swelling in volume, reverberating through the chapel enough that the Prussian winced from the severity of the sound. It was fortunate that he'd spent the last decade listening to rock music at excessive volumes or else that noise would have caused him to cover his ears. Even with that experience, he almost did succumb to doing so but checked that motion in favor of remaining tense.
He remained glued to the floor as Eliza approached him. The words she spoke merely caused Gilbert's expression to alter from tense caution to an offended scowl. What? Was she trying to imply that he couldn't be heroic? Or selfless? Whatever her intended point was behind those words they struck him as harsh. His pride bristled. "I may not be a knight in shining armor these days, no. But I used to be a knight. I haven't forgotten those principles, either."
The Prussian pulled his sword free from its sheath, grip confident. He bit his tongue to swallow anything else he might have said on the subject. No sense in reminding her that he'd saved her ass plenty of times in battle. Or that he and his army had fought even in the face of certain defeat to buy time for other Allied forces, despite the considerable cost of lives. Those attempts at heroics felt cheapened. Irritated as he was, Gilbert refused to follow her order. His irritation actually made him more determined to stay.
"Say whatever in the hell you want about me. I don't care. You can think what you like. I was going to suggest that we team up, because there are better odds and we're both capable fighters. Now I'll just stay back here, "out of your way", until it seems like it might kill you. Then I'll deal with it alongside you. But I'm not a coward, Hungary, so if you think I'm going to turn and run then you are clearly mistaking me for someone else." He thumped the tip of the broadsword down on the floorboards, then casually folded his elbows atop it. Eliza was given a cool look of crimson, the Prussian's face affecting a look of expectation while waiting for her to get on with this.
The tolling bell went silent. Gilbert's eyes moved from Eliza to the main doors of the chapel. Boards out there were creaking with the sound of footsteps. Judging by the pace of those creaks it seemed that whatever it was was at least humanoid in nature. Not that this guaranteed that the threat out there would be any more pleasant than any other beastie in this place. The Prussian's lips pressed into such a slim line that the color ran from them as well, leaving only the contrasting hue of his eyes to give any sign of life to his otherwise corpse-like pallor. "It's here. Keep your guard up. I'll watch your back."
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Post by Deleted on Jul 7, 2014 18:22:14 GMT -6
A slight twinge of guilt sparkled Elizabeta’s green eyes and she glanced over at Prussia, though only her frown increased to show any sign of response. Okay, fine, she could have ran up to him, clutched the front of his shirt, and tearfully told him her fears and blah, blah, shut up, Gilbert. Even if she had done something like that, though perhaps less dramatic, the Russian wouldn’t of believed her probably anyways so instead, she decided to spare him the news for a couple minutes so they could collect themselves with a moments’ peace. So, you’re welcome and now that the creature is here, let’s deal with it now.
The tolling grew in volume yet Hungary refused to discharge his gaze from Gilbert’s, her hard stare having returned, her shaking diminished, yet there remained a pale tinge to her cheeks that only made her eyes seem a darker green. Each long toll hurt as the same as Gilbert, Elizabeta resisted the urge to clasp her hands tightly over her ears, though with each increase in volume, her brow furrowed lower and her gaze grew harder upon Gilbert, silently urging him to retreat to safety, to not allow his welfare rest upon her shoulders all because she had unknowingly lead this creature to their threshold’s door.
Or… Had she actually been lead? Or, perhaps….
Slowly, her eyes narrowed more and finally, finally she tore her gaze towards the door once Gilbert began to speak again, but his words fell on deaf ears, almost literally. The noise of the bell blocked out his words, though only a glance at his expression would have told Elizabeta all she wanted to know, but her thoughts were too busy to care about Gilbert’s guilt-trip for the time being. Instead, the Hungarian woman was calculating the possibilities that perhaps, whatever creature whose shadow she had seen in the mists, the dark figure that had goaded her towards the church where none other than Prussia was settled in, that it hadn’t been a random coincidence after all. Perhaps, she and Prussia were just two birds being aimed at by one dark and evil stone.The same moment that the tolling ceased and a silence like death crept into the former sanctuary of the church, when Gilbert’s eyes moved to the doors, Elizabeta’s eyes returned to Gilbert. Bits of his speech had managed to settled into her ringing ears and she was thankful for them but his stance and the approaching sound of footsteps tightened her throat and for the first time in a long time when twin tears fell from her eyes, she didn’t care.
"It's here. Keep your guard up. I'll watch your back."
“Gilbert…. What I saw, it looked…” outside the footsteps ceased and a dark shadow crept from beneath the wood of the door, “it looked like….” Her words were interrupted when the church doors suddenly swung open, slowly, their locks magically undone, and there standing on the doorstep was… “The Black Death,” Elizabeta finished, expression hard, dagger at the ready, prepared to fight, her muscles burning from the cold and adrenaline, but her utter fear was found in the frost covering her words.
“Gilbert, never mind my back…. watch your front...”
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Post by Plague Doctor on Jul 9, 2014 4:35:17 GMT -6
Rats. Little rats, scurrying about. Unclean, imperfect vermin infesting everywhere. There was hardly anywhere to walk now that there wasn't a nasty, foul rodent. Eradicate. Exterminate.
That frightened little female rat had gone running away from him before he could choke out its life. Or -- better still -- drag her kicking and screaming into the bowels of the Laboratory. Willful rats gave stimulating results to any experiment. Under the steady hand of such a seasoned professional, she too would become willing. Perfected. But what to do with her, what to do? Those rat eyes, much too small. Perhaps some widening, yes? Further carving of the skull and a stretching of the eyeballs to test how far they could expand in their new holes? The long limbs would look lovely, bones broken and reset until she were no bigger than a child-sized rat. That would make a perfect display for his mantle. Genius! Genius.
It took time to hunt down the rat. Oh, he'd almost found others in the interim while searching. They were too imperfect. Best to wait until there was more time to twist them into an ideal image. There was no rush for catching those other rodents. He had all the time in the world to hunt them down, to render them playthings for the whims of his experiments. So many ideas in his head and so many opportunities to realize them! Already, the Doctor had in mind all types of experiments he could perform upon those scattered about. To make them beautiful. This female rat was his current obsession, however, so it wouldn't do to let her go so easily. No, no -- he had so much in store for her.
Coming upon the doors of the Chapel, the Doctor let the doors fly parted in front of him. There was his little rat, unable to escape the maze, and therefore still part of the intended experiment. And what happened to be here with her? Another rat. Yes, white as snow and eyes so red. The Doctor's smile was invisible behind his mask. A long nose lowered forward as he gave a small, formal dip of a bow to the pair located within. After all, she had called him by name. The Black Death. Poised to rid the world of its squealing, weak little masses. This place, these two, it would make a good starting point.
Whatever voice he'd once had was distorted by the presence of the mask, hissing out of him like spurts of gas through a vent. Toxic, deadly gas. "The procedure will not be delayed. You are imperfect now, yes, yet the only thing permanent is Death."
The Doctor's hand dropped to unclip the nozzle of his sprayer. It was brought upwards to tap against that lengthy nose, facing the two standing within the room. Heavy boots came tromping slowly forward as the Doctor advanced. "Don't fight. Don't run. You cannot escape the inevitable fate of your demise. Accept your end."
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Survivor
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Played by Hat.
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Post by Prussia on Jul 9, 2014 5:02:03 GMT -6
Okay.
Okay.
Whatever his mind had been supplying to him as a possible sight to come through the door, it wasn't that. Gilbert's tense face went slack as the Prussian snapped into a state of shock. Who amongst them could forget the images from the time of The Black Death? Even his lacking memory could readily supply memories from that dark time.
Bodies piled together in carts. Bodies piled together where the forced quarantine left entire families to die, limbs clutching desperately and their faces contorted in death from the pain they had suffered in their final moments. Bodies burning upon pyres when there were no pits left to put them. All that fear, believing it was the end of days, and him hurrying from bed to bed in the monastery to ease what suffering he could -- even if there was no saving the damned.
Men garbed in this same attire walked amongst the sick and dying like wraiths. Figures of death that became synonymous with the Plague itself, enough that people would turn them away from their doors for fear that they would bring with them traces of the sickness. Gilbert remembered it because of the huge impact it had on his people. There wasn't any nation he knew that didn't exist back then that had not suffered from it in some way. Why the hell was this type of thing in the Manor? It's like it could read their minds, pick the worst of what their brains had to offer, and manifest it into a new level of horror.
Sure, Gilbert had joked with his brother Ludwig shortly after things went to hell that being in a horror movie scenario could be cool. He never expected to be taken this seriously with it. Now instead of them being chased by an axe-wielding maniac, here was the Black Death standing right there. No, not standing any longer. It was coming right for them. Gilbert's entire body was stiff with the instinct to fight. The Prussian lacked a 'flight' instinct and that accounted for most of his blunders in the past. While others would retreat, he'd continue charging forward, motivated by his pride or the inability to accept any defeat.
When the thing spoke, the sound of its voice brought chills of ice racing down the albino's spine. His immunity to the cold didn't spare him the effective fear it created inside him. Whatever this thing's deal was, it clearly wanted Eliza. After that cursory twist of the nose in his direction it had become attentive to the Hungarian. Gilbert darted a quick look to the woman to check on her. Would they stand their ground against a foe like this or make a break for the back door to escape? If it had managed to track her down from somewhere outside, would it find her again? Maybe the creature was right in claiming that there was no escape. Eventually they would run out of places to hide.
The Prussian lifted his sword up from where it pointed at the ground. "What kinda schiesse is this? You sure do know how to attract the weirdos, Liz. Those tits of yours must by a magnet for perverts and whackos. Is this a guy that you really want to take on? Your call on how we do this."
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