Stands a Chance
Offline.
Jetzt ist es kalt in Berlin.
|
Post by Germany on Nov 3, 2013 20:10:47 GMT -6
"GILBERT!"
He was struggling to stay afloat in the rapidly rising water, but every time he fought his way to the surface, ever responsible, he screamed someone's name.
"FELICIANO!"
It was useless. Even if they heard his cries, if they needed help, he'd never be able to hear their replies through the pouring rain. Ludwig had been so ready to believe in anything but this. A pipe had burst. That was a fine, logical explanation. But no, this was rain, a genuine storm indoors. He had no idea what to think about this place anymore.
"RODER-"
Ludwig inhaled a lungful of water as his head knocked against the ceiling. Through the torrential downpour, the world had gone dark. He'd just have to leave and hope that whoever else had been on the first floor had more sense than he did and fled sooner. For now, he could only save himself and hope that he hadn't left anyone in the water to die.
Luckily for his sake at least, he'd always been a strong swimmer.
Kicking out, he fought his way through the water to one of the staircases, hardly needing to climb: the first floor had flooded completely, and as Ludwig struggled out of the water onto the landing of the second floor, he realized that the rain continued to beat down here. By the time he'd stood up, the water had risen to his ankles.
"Gottverdammt," he swore, and took off running as the water continued to rise. Mercifully, he'd gone in the right direction and found what looked like a servants' staircase, a narrow twisting climb leading to the third floor. Slipping and sliding in his wet shoes, Ludwig raced upwards. On the third floor, the storm strangely ceased to exist. Coughing and soaked to the skin, Ludwig sank to the ground, feeling a mixture of relief, confusion, and worry. Gott, he hoped no one had drowned. That was a particularly nasty way to die, and the flood had risen so quickly... Ludwig shivered, and tugged off his wet jacket. He'd catch a cold if he stayed in these soaking clothes. He already felt kind of feverish. Tossing the jacket aside, Ludwig let out a quiet groan as the burning in his veins intensified, drawing his knees up to his chest. Had the water been laced with some kind of poison, or...Focus. Clothes... wet clothes off... He reached a hand to his collar and tugged at his shirt.
The fabric came apart like wet tissue paper. And the hand holding the fabric bore claws and was sprouting dark grey fur. Ludwig yelped in shock, then absurdly tried to shake the hand off of his arm, like the fur and claws were just some gruesome glove.
"W-what the hell-" But his other hand was the same, if not worse, and the fever inside his skin grew painfully hot, like he'd been set ablaze. Something in the water. It had to be something in the water. Ludwig tore at his clothes roughly and his claws came back bloody but the burning only worsened. "Stop!" he half-ordered, half-pleaded, but in the split second before his vision went blurry and he crumpled against the floor, Ludwig could see the hallway remained empty. He could feel his limbs and body warping and the taste of blood - his own blood - filled his mouth along with what felt like shards of glass. He supposed he was screaming, but all he could hear was a keening snarl, like that of a wounded animal. He was going to die here twisted and deformed and alone, Ludwig realized.
And just as suddenly as it had begun, the agonizing heat faded, and after another moment, Ludwig risked opening his eyes.
This wasn't his skin or his body. He could tell he wasn't human, but by the time he pulled himself up his new shape already felt natural, and his mind didn't question it. The dark gray fur that had covered his body was comfortable, and he could move easily. And he could smell things. The hallway smelled like dust and decay and his old wet clothing, but he picked up that other people had passed through here. The scent of their fear drew a low rumbling growl from Ludwig's throat. He wanted to find these people. He didn't quite know why, but it had to happen. He loped off down the hallway in search of them, letting instincts he didn't knew he had drive him forward. They couldn't have gone far.
|
|
Survivor
22.
Played by Hat.
Offline.
|
Post by Prussia on Nov 4, 2013 5:57:53 GMT -6
Gilbert had the Devil's luck. He had been on the third level when the rush of water caught his attention. The floor beneath his feet had vibrated with the force of that gush, and the Prussian watched with interest when the carpet beneath his feet even darkened with water that seeped up through the boards of the floor. A foot was tapped into the moisture to send little droplets scattering as Gilbert stood above with hands on his hips. "That's new. What the hell is wrong with this place now? Did someone break a pipe? They just don't make massive, creepy mansions like they used to. This is clearly not superior German architecture."
His assessing complaints carried audibly through the area. If he was worried about being overheard he gave no sign of it. Gilbert had a hard enough time filtering himself on a good day; he hadn't had a good day since... well. He couldn't remember, specifically, but no doubt it was sometime after leaving the comfort of his basement fortifications. The albino shook his head disdainfully while stepping down the hallway. His shoes sloshed wetly over the fabric, and Gilbert's toe kicked up splashes of water in irritation. Not only was the place freezing but now he had to contend with a flood on top of that discomfort? Feh.
As he scanned the area, Gilbert's eyes caught sight of an out of place item. He stopped his sulking stomp to tower over it. It appeared to be a tube of some sort. The Prussian crouched down to get a closer look and he reached a pale hand down to pick it up from where it had been dislodged from its previous hiding spot. His voice was marked with confusion as he read the large words on the front of the tube. "'The Inhabitant's Brand Name Heal-All Cream. Available now in mint!'"
Gilbert stared at the item in silence. Of all the things to find here and this is what he stumbled across? The Prussian slowly turned the tube over to read the text on the back. "DIRECTIONS: Injured? Of course you are, worm. Apply this ointment liberally upon the sight of injury. Or don't. Do not ingest. If ingested, you deserve to die. INGREDIENTS: Water, Extract of Mint, Aloe, The Mystic Powers of Life, Green #5... Huh."
Odds were high that this wasn't the most bizarre thing to be found within these walls. Hell, the floor had sprung a leak out of the blue. This was just another oddity that Gilbert would have to roll with. If this cream did what it said then it was definitely a more awesome find than he'd previously thought. Gilbert decided to keep it. He palmed the tube to shove it into the pocket of his tattered jeans as the Prussian straightened up from where he'd been bent. There was a new sound that his ears detected.
It didn't sound like more rushing water. He twisted to the approaching sound with a frown, a hand fisted on his hip while he tried to decide what it might be. Whatever it was, it was getting closer to his location. He'd ditched his pitchfork for the sword that he'd received out in the woods when making his appeals with Germany's ghost. And now that sword had spirited off somewhere that Gilbert didn't know. He'd have to find it soon. At least he still had Feliciano's beretta in his possession. If whatever was coming around the corner intended to eat him then the Prussian wasn't going down without a fight.
With the ingrained training of a professional soldier, Gilbert swung the gun around on its strap to point it out in front of him, squinting crimson eyes over the barrel. He kept his finger off the trigger to avoid accidentally shooting a friendly face. (And if the face wasn't friendly, then maybe he could just shoot them in the knee or something for giggles.) Gilbert's smirk was as steady as his aim. He tensed his muscles in anticipation, certain that whoever -- or whatever -- was running would be in sight any second.
Prussia's smirk melted right off his face when he finally caught a glimpse of what it was coming towards him. The barrel of his gun faltered as his eyes and brain tried to align in agreement versus denial of what he was seeing in front of him. Whatever this creature was, it felt uncomfortably familiar. The Prussian's quick assessment took note of the visible presence of costume remnants that the beast wore. That was Lud's costume, he thought to himself in growing alarm. Why would this thing have Ludwig's costume on the furred menace of its body unless....? Gilbert swallowed thickly, eyes wide with shock. He was hesitating, uncertain. His voice went down the hallway instead of bullets as the albino voiced tentative questions. ".....Ludwig? Bruder? Sind Sie...?"
|
|
Offline.
0 posts made.
Deleted
Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Dec 2, 2013 15:11:10 GMT -6
Each light that flickered in the distance cast upon the floor and walls shadows that danced harmoniously with each other across paths on the wall, each paved by lines of a dark, indescribable color. Those lines, arrows that lead down those forsaken ill-lit halls, seemed to part unceremoniously at every door they met, rippling into designs that one could not discern from the rest of the “decorations” that hung from the wallpaper, drawn in liquids Lili dare not inspect.
There was only one type of music in this ballroom: silence. It pounded in her head, utterly deafening. Her ears were open, desperate for a noise, but each footstep she made, each echo she heard, they were amplified a hundred times over, startling her into skipping a step that clacked in places and squished in others. The days that had passed were a blur of confusion and utter terror, with the walls and floor and available space around her closing in with every passing moment. How this happened she could not say, for admitting this was real would shatter her hopes that this was some dreadful dream she would soon wake from. Out of the corners of her eyes lurked beasts and beings that could only be born of her worst nightmares.
A glum flash of light jumped from one wall to the other - a mirror, catching the fire of a candle that burnt a mere centimeter from its stand. A faint layer of dust blanketed the glass. Considering the age of the house, though, it was impeccably clean for an item that wouldn't have constant handling from residents. Biting her lower lip Lili ducked under the mirror and avoided being seen at all costs. Too dark a hallway, too dark.. Not good. Too ominous. Bad things were everywhere, too quiet. The hall teased her with the gentle dripping of water and what sounded like the flow of a stream. Water had quickly overtaken the floors below and brushed up against the third, some places were soaked through. This would be horrible for the house, and Lili quietly loathed and dreaded the inevitable growth of mildew and the smell that would result thereof.
What was she doing out here alone? Searching, mainly. She was lost in the house, searching for anyone she might know. Her brother, perhaps. Especially, actually. Worry was overtaking her senses with ease and panic sat chipping at the back of her mind where all other emotions convened and fought for dominance. On one hand, the spirit that lay within her demanded she remain positive, for fear was the only thing she had to be afraid of. With enough confidence surely she would triumph over this adversity.
On the other hand, every step taken assured her of the possibility that she would likely never find anyone again. It was impossible to know how long she'd been in the house, or how long it had really been since she had last seen another person skulking about in the shadows. Each room she found seemed to exist in a different time. Maybe years had passed by and she hadn't been able to note the change. ... It then suddenly dawned on her how much her thinking had changed so much in just this one short hallway.
The running liquid continued to get louder and more intense, and clearer as she approached that must have been a staircase somewhere, or some opening otherwise that dipped down into the submerged floors below. Masked by the rush of water were voices - men, from her first initial impression, but none she recognized immediately as they clashed vigorously with and were thus muffled by the torrent that raged through the house.
Suddenly Lili was hopeful. Her brother was there somewhere and if luck was with her, he could be just around the corner. Her heart leapt in her chest briefly and with trepidation in her step, her body still reeling from her fear and thus much too unwilling to let elation take her, she quietly peeked around the corner. It was, a corner which, from a distance down the hallway, served as resident for one shadow she noted moving across the wall. She had decided earlier to leave this entity alone but, with a physical voice to assure her that, perhaps, the figure was not of a supernatural persuasion, she could be somewhat safe with them.
No.. it wasn't her brother.
Her heart sank and she frowned deeply. Her worry for him momentarily overthrew her curiosity and she waited timidly behind to corner to watch what would unfold in front of her. It wasn't her brother… too tall, the icy hair was a dead giveaway. She did know this man, thankfully. Unwary of what he was staring at however, she took a step forward into the open. Someone alive, someone friendly. She breathed a very brief, relieved syllable of laughter before quietly speaking a word to announce her presence just as a deep, guttural growl emanated from the opposite side of the hallway.
The animal, one she'd never seen before, was silhouetted against the darkness. Grey, bristling fur and a pair of bright lupine eyes that glistened like glass in the darkness were all she could see of the mass that just barely stood obvious from the background behind it. She sank back towards the wall. Unarmed she was a target-- or bait. The latter wasn't something she wanted to be. The words the Prussian spoke seemed to imply horrible things had happened, but she hadn't quite yet registered what. Though tempted to run, abandoning another person to be alone in this forsaken place wasn't an option either. In the short time she'd been wandering the chill of fear had been enough to make her desire any sort of company, just to ensure that she wasn't suffering here in solitude.
|
|
Stands a Chance
Offline.
Jetzt ist es kalt in Berlin.
|
Post by Germany on Dec 26, 2013 20:57:02 GMT -6
Sniffing at the rug, Ludwig separated the scents; a person had walked here, a different person had run here, someone had spilled blood here. Picking just one to follow would be hard. But as he padded down the hallway, the sound of footsteps and a new presence made the decision an easy one. Still crouched close to the floor, Ludwig looked up at the man now aiming a gun at him. He looked frightened. Good. Maybe he would run. The prey that fled was the best kind of prey: having something to chase down would be much more fun than a simple tackle and a snap of the neck. But there was a gun pointed at him. That could be dangerous. At least the man's grip on the weapon didn't seem too steady. Ludwig watched the black hole of the barrel wobbling around before his eyes flickered to the man's voice when he spoke.
A vicious snarl tore itself from his throat when he heard his name, but there was another important word there: Bruder. Even as he bared his teeth at the man, Ludwig was remembering. Gilbert! That was right, this man was his brother. How could he have even forgotten? And he looked so worried and frightened. Don't hurt him, Ludwig ordered himself. Don't hurt him. But his mouth was itching; he wanted to bite something. And Gilbert still had the gun pointed at him, Ludwig realized. Gilbert didn't trust him either. He growled quietly as his eyes went back to the gun; if he could get Gilbert to put that down, then he could… could…
Do what?
Attack him without being hurt!
No! Ludwig insisted, I don't want to do that! But his thoughts seemed small and useless. He wasn't here to think, he was here to hunt. Overwhelmed by confusion, Ludwig fixed his gaze back on Gilbert and began advancing, one step at a time, the growl still rumbling in his throat. And then he stopped, biting at his legs in anger. Stop walking! he screamed at himself. Don't hurt him! But his control seemed to leave just as quickly as it came and once again he found himself advancing, licking his fangs eagerly as he stalked forward. Run, he wished. Go on, run. You should be scared.
Movement behind Gilbert caught his eyes, and he stopped abruptly, still crouched low.
A girl had appeared at the end of the hallway, a slight, delicate thing pressed up against the wall in fear. Ludwig's eyes moved between Gilbert, the gun, and this new arrival. Gilbert had the gun. Gilbert was his brother. He shouldn't attack Gilbert. But this newcomer, she didn't have a gun, and she wasn't calling out to Ludwig. She didn't know him, then, and he didn't know her, and she looked as though the slightest thing, the smallest movement would set her fleeing. Ludwig liked the idea of that. He no longer needed to mentally wrestle with whether or not he should attack Gilbert, not when this other target had appeared. In a flash, his mind was made up, and his instinct had kicked in a split second before that; by the time he'd decided, he'd already started to move.
Digging his claws into the carpet and wood with a crunch, Ludwig dodged sharply to the right, angling around where Gilbert stood and brushing past him effortlessly. Hearing no sounds of gunfire just spurred him on. Letting out a short, piercing howl at his small victory, he made straight for the girl, tearing wounds in the floor as he charged and kicking up splinters and hanks of fabric in his wake. His eyes were wide in anticipation and his fangs were bared in what looked like a crazed smile. A few more leaps and she'd be in his jaws, yes. This close, Ludwig could see and smell her properly and although the smallest note of recognition sounded in his mind, it was trampled and crushed in the next instant. Who she was didn't matter, Ludwig understood. He wanted to taste her blood and he'd rip apart anyone who got in his way.
|
|
Survivor
22.
Played by Hat.
Offline.
|
Post by Prussia on Dec 30, 2013 6:04:28 GMT -6
This wasn't happening.
It was just a dream -- a nightmare. He had foolishly given in to sleep and this was a new form of torture. Whatever this creature was, it wasn't Ludwig. It couldn't be. Every fiber in his body was protesting the reality of this transformation in his brother. This beast had just been designed to resemble Ludwig. The costume tatters and the warped humanoid features and the eyes were all just clever details to fool him.
As much as he tried to convince himself of the deception he couldn't find it in him to fully doubt. This was Ludwig. In some twisted form of himself. And that version was looking at him with the predatory rage of an animal that wanted nothing more than to rend him to pieces. Ludwig's eyes held no welcome to him or recognition, as far as Gilbert could tell. The situation was beyond horrifying.
As the hulking form of his brother approached him, Gilbert wisely took a step back. It wasn't fear that motivated him as much as his training. If the target gets too close then shooting conditions won't be ideal. Have to keep the range. And almost as soon as that automatic thought processed it was chased by an immediate upbraiding. This is not a target. This is Westen. Little Ludwig. Your brother.
The Prussian swallowed heavily. He couldn't remove his eyes off that beastly image. If he did then the creature might take the opportunity to attack. Gilbert needed to buy as much time as he could to decide what to do. Ludwig was usually so easy to reason with. Right now all traces of the logical, sensible man in the German seemed absent. With a sinking heart, Gilbert's brain switched over to that more methodical frame.
Assess your target. Claws and teeth obviously lethal. Physical strength is apparent. Known military training, defensive and offensive tactics possible. Potential weaknesses: Large size could make for slower movement. Top heavy in weight. Seems unstable in mind.
Plan: Keep the creature at optimal range. Bait the creature to lure it into a compact space. Once the target's maneuverability has been compromised, shoot the legs. Once the target has been rendered immobile, shoot the head.
Shoot Ludwig in the head.
Gilbert let out a shaken breath. There was a weight of guilt in him just from having put the German into that imagined scenario. He didn't know if he could bring himself to do it. Maybe if he waited long enough, there would be a miracle that would end this without bloodshed. Perhaps if he appealed to the core of Ludwig, there was a chance at a better outcome.
The Prussian's mouth twisted in a wry, embittered smile. "I really am a miserable brother to you, you know. Here I am, finally getting to see you again, and I'm thinking about how I am going to put you down. How unlucky you are, West. You should have been stuck with someone better than this. You should have had an older sibling that taught you to be classy like Austria, or kind like Hungary, or smooth like France, or taught you how to smile more like Spain. Heh. I bet with Antonio you would have smiled much, much more."
He took another step backwards while slipping the safety off on the gun. All it would take was a pull of the trigger to put himself out of harm's way. One squeeze and several bullets later, he'd be safe and the threat would be eliminated. His heart was twisting painfully in his chest. He didn't want to do it. He didn't want to!
"Just keep coming closer, West. Großer Bruder will take care of you, ja? Und afterwards we'll--"
Movement in the hallway behind him had Gilbert whipping his head around, violating the first rule of his safety by taking his eyes off the threat in front of him. He too saw the girl that had come upon this confrontation. Miserable timing. Ludwig noticed her as well. The Prussian swore under his breath as he turned just in time to see the German monstrosity go leaping for that remote figure.
So much for the plan.
"Don't just stand there!" He shouted at her, and shifting the angle of his gun Gilbert thrust it through the air in her direction. Either she could catch it and use it, or let it clatter to the floor like so much useless metal. Stripped of his weapon left the albino at a serious disadvantage. It also forced him to act recklessly.
He threw his lean figure aside into the moving charge of Ludwig, barreling into the creature with his shoulder. Gilbert's arms reached for fur and muscle in an attempt to grab hold of the transformed German. There was no knowing if his actions would result in success or if he was about to get cut down for trying to be heroic. Either way, the Prussian couldn't stand by and do nothing.
|
|
Offline.
0 posts made.
Deleted
Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 4, 2014 2:36:32 GMT -6
If there was ever a moment she regretted, it was this. She stumbled upon the confrontation at the worst possible time, interrupting with her presence an attempt to reach out to the wolf. She listened to Gilbert try to appeal the wolf's humanity, learning from the lament the uncomfortable truth therein. Oh God, that was Germany over there, not quite looking his best or even vaguely human. The only parts of him that even suggested sentience were his eyes, which reflected back at them a very human glare despite the feral appearance of the rest of his body slouched over on all fours. He was clearly larger than the average wolf, even from the relatively large distance away, but it wouldn't remain that way for long. Creatures such as he could rival lightning with their speed, and the moment he decided to charge he could be upon them in mere moments.
The wolf took a step forward, then another, and soon his legs were locked in a run, singling out the weakest target and running straight towards her. There was absolutely no guarantee that Gilbert's efforts would have even worked, but as soon as the beast began to charge down the hallway it became clear it would have been the better option.
"Don't just stand there!" he screamed at her. The gun loosened in his grip, it shifted in its angle.
No, no wait. He wasn't--
Oh, but he did. He threw it towards her, leaving his back defenseless as the werewolf charged on it. Perhaps seeing a weapon in her hand would cause the wolf to shift to a more vulnerable target, but even without a firearm Lili could assume that Gilbert was far more formidable than she. "Hey wait, shouldn't you--!!"
The gun soared through the air and she managed to catch it, though she stumbled a little trying to catch it in such a way that she wouldn't snag the trigger. Her rebound was clumsy, but nervous and with a surge of adrenaline pumping through her she was quick to recover. The gun felt familiar - certainly not hers, but the way her fingers locked around the handle and grip was obviously well taught, for she held it tightly, keeping her index finger far away from the trigger lest she set it off early and shoot the Prussian instead.
Don't just stand there. He... he wanted her to shoot him? If she'd gone into this completely blind, if she had no idea it was Ludwig, it might have made the action a little easier to perform. Maybe. But this was Germany in that body! It wasn't a vicious beast! Certainly he was merely a victim of... something. Something not of his control. He wouldn't be doing this! She was certain.
"There has to be another way!" She pleaded.
She had seconds. It wasn't long enough for her to make a decision she was comfortable with. What she was faced with left her with only a single choice. She would much rather appeal to Ludwig's humanity. She would much rather throw her weapon down and plead with him for peace, to beg that he hurt neither Gilbert nor herself, to beg that he remember who he was and cease this savagery. But how was she going to accomplish this when Gilbert could not? She watched Gilbert throw his hand's around Ludwig's lupine form and hold tightly and as she did this her one course of action became clear.
If she did not take a shot - at least a shot to disarm him, perhaps by hitting a leg - he would turn on the Prussian and would likely rip out his throat. Then, as he lay there dying, Ludwig would turn on her, and there would be no escape. If she somehow decided to leave Gilbert behind as bait while she escaped, there was nothing stopping Ludwig from tracking her and finishing the job, though having such a thought disgusted her.
Lili held the gun up, her hands gripping it firmly with her arms held secure, rigid and parallel to the floor below her feet. She could feel her heart beating harshly against her rib cage, shortening her breath into brief, spastic spurts. She had no choice - it was his life, or theirs and countless potential others. With her hands shaking she pulled the trigger, feeling the firearm recoil roughly into her hands as she prayed to God that her aim was as true as her remorse.
The moment she took that shot the gun dropped to the floor. For what she had just done, regardless of whether the bullet hit or not, she... hated herself. How could she even think to do such a thing to someone else? If a second shot was needed she was incapable now of doing it. With tears forming she stepped backwards away from the gun, as if it would suddenly rise up against her and shoot her itself, her arms wrapped around herself in shame.
|
|
Stands a Chance
Offline.
Jetzt ist es kalt in Berlin.
|
Post by Germany on Mar 29, 2014 19:21:46 GMT -6
The man had been talking, he could recall. Something about brothers and smiles. The words had tried to register in his mind but right when they began to stick, they dissolved instantly into meaningless noise. The man with the gun had seemed very unhappy, but anyone ought to be, facing him down. They knew they couldn’t hope to win a fight against him, and that understanding sent a happy chill down his spine — he was better than them, stronger than them. Of course, the man still had a gun… but the surprise arrival of the girl had distracted them both, and he’d seized that chance to go for the new prey she presented. She looked much sweeter, anyways, and softer. The static warbling of the man’s words, the pained look in his eyes… the animal forgot everything as he pounding towards the end of the hall, honing in on the surprise arrival with hunger in his eyes.
The girl hadn’t flinched or even turned to run, he saw: she stood stock still, terrified or indecisive, and he recognized the blank look that registered briefly in her eyes, the utter shock that froze a person’s thoughts until they had no time to choose between fighting or running. She was a little trapped rabbit, too surprised or stupid to flee, and he opened his jaws wide, eager to sink his teeth into her sweet slender neck and spill her blood across the floor.
Out of nowhere something barreled into him, driving the wind out of his lungs in a pained yelp and interrupting his chase. His claws, so reliable a moment ago, slipped on the wood and carpet and he slammed sideways into the wall, jaws snapping shut. From the corner of his eyes he saw a flash of white hair: the man from before. Dammit. He hadn’t even noticed him moving — not that he had ever presented much of a threat anyways. The girl had yet to run, thankfully, but he wasn’t happy about being denied a kill, even momentarily. So this man wanted to be a hero? He’d show him what a foolish choice that had been. He could feel a pair of hands tearing at the fur and skin of his back, but he twisted, craning his head with a vicious snarl, and found a space to lunge.
The flesh of the man’s shoulder yielded only a second before his fangs tore into it, filling his mouth with the taste of hot, fresh blood. He hung on with a vice grip, a low rumbling growl forcing its way out around his clenched teeth. Let go, you idiot, he thought, still feeling a tight grip around his chest, let me go! He started to pull himself up and felt the weight shift, but the fingers still tore at his fur. Maybe if he’d gone for the man’s neck—
The air in front of him exploded with noise and his ears went flat in pain; instantaneously, a fierce pain blossomed in the front of his left leg, just below his hip. In shock, he felt his jaws open, felt his assailant’s shoulder fall from his grasp. Panicked, he looked around wildly — and saw the girl, gripping a gun. The gun the man had been holding before. Of course… he hadn’t been shot when the man had grabbed him—
Not any man, his brother. The agony in his leg seemed to have cleared some of the fog from his thoughts, and Ludwig instantly wished it hadn’t if only so he didn’t have to think about the scene unfolding in front of him. He could still taste Gilbert’s blood and when he shook his head violently, trying to spit it out, the pain from the gunshot he’d taken only intensified. The girl — Lili, he could now recognize — had dropped the gun, but he still backed away, limping. No no no, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean— His brother was still on the ground but Ludwig didn’t want to look at him, the horror of what he’d just inadvertently done a lead weight in his chest. Help him, please, just help him! He didn’t dare move closer, he’d only frighten them, and with good reason, but he couldn’t just leave, not like this. The pleas he’d made had turned to a low, pained whine on his lips but Lili had to understand him, she needed to.
Ears flat against his head in pain and fright, he continued to back away slowly, dragging his injured leg. He couldn’t stay here. He’d lose control of himself and, and he couldn’t bear to hurt anyone, not again, not like this, gottverdammt he knew Lili was a good shot, why hadn’t she aimed for his head and just stopped him before he’d hurt his brother? And Gilbert… Ludwig raised his claws to his head, tearing at himself in anguish. How could he have hurt the person who’d done more for him than anyone, his closest family?! He wasn’t right in the head, this horrible place had ruined that, and normally he had so much self-control. But that excused nothing. His brother was still wounded and the blame for that lay entirely on him.
|
|
Survivor
22.
Played by Hat.
Offline.
|
Post by Prussia on Apr 10, 2014 4:39:01 GMT -6
Deviating from the plan had been a bad idea. Gilbert should have known better, yet adapting to the situation had seemed the wiser path at the time. That was what he got for trying to think on his feet. Putting himself in range of the superior physical strength of his twisted brother wasn't a strategy high on his list of successes. He knew five seconds into grappling with Ludwig that the danger to him had escalated to its highest. Too close, too exposed, and he'd left his opponent a direct line right to his body.
Prussia hissed a strangled cry when he felt Ludwig's teeth strike at him, piercing through cloth, then skin, before sinking deep into muscle. The act itself wasn't a surprise -- if Gilbert had an impressive set of fangs at his disposal, he'd be using them to attack as well. What caught him off-guard was just how badly it hurt. A sudden pain that swelled white hot, lancing through his nerves with enough force that the Prussian's entire body whipped with a jerk of reaction. His angled gaze caught an open view of his blood bubbling up from the fringes of Ludwig's mouth.
What a mess. We're never gonna get this stain out.
He pushed with all the force he could muster to keep the German locked into that position. If his shoulder were being torn into then at least it meant the rest of him was temporarily safe. His tactic became similar to that of dealing with an attacking dog; instead of trying to force the creature away, he tried to keep it closer to force the jaw wide. The Prussian's hand seized at the back of Ludwig's transformed skull to embrace that biting mouth tighter to his shoulder, attempting to ride through the pain until the man either got tired or sought to bite him elsewhere.
It was a mix of dread and relief when Lili took her opportunity to fire a shot. Gilbert braced himself with a cramped face, trusting that she was a sure enough aim not to end up firing a bullet into him in the fray. He didn't feel any second burst of pain in his system. Instead, he felt the response of Ludwig when the shot hit, knowing that it had landed on the right target when the German's body pried away from him. Gilbert let Ludwig retreat and tried not to yelp a second time when those teeth tore free from their bedding in his flesh.
The Prussian dropped for the floor, both as a precaution to distance himself from the feral Ludwig, and also because his body wasn't wanting to keep upright. With the absence of a mouth biting into his shoulder he was able to see the full extent of the damage done to him, with the sickening display of blood and meat revealed beneath the tear in his clothes. His body was already going numb in a state of shock, which Gilbert tentatively rode on the dangerous wave, as he sought to clamp wadded fabric along with his hand over the wound. Gonna bleed out if you don't keep still. No telling if he'll come in for a second meal.
Gilbert directed a wincing gaze at the other two in the hallway. Lili had dropped the gun, and he wanted to shout at her not to be so careless, yet his tongue was twisted up in his mouth due to the intense pain from his shoulder. Besides, she didn't seem like she'd have picked it back up even if he ordered it. The girl was undergoing some form of trauma that Gilbert didn't have time to work through. Worse, he saw clarity dawning in the pale eyes of his transformed brother and the horror on Ludwig's altered face made him feel like a jerk for getting bitten. No matter that it wasn't his fault.
"Nein! Don't you dare run off, Ludwig Beilschmidt. There's no telling what you--rrrnnn!" The albino's words broke off with a frustrated groan of pain. He flung his head backwards to hit it solidly to the wall behind him. It helped the Prussian ride through the next swell of agony until it abated, focusing enough to form the rest of his words. "No telling what you might do to the next unlucky bastard."
His breathing was unsteady, hitching in spurts from his chest, as Gilbert fought not to hyperventilate. This situation could quickly go from bad to worse. He had to try while the German was still lucid to get control of it before the opportunity was lost. "You just sit right there. Sit right there on the floor until I figure out what the hell to do. Can you even understand a word I'm saying? Sit!" Moving his hand away from clutching at his shoulder for mere seconds, Gilbert commandingly pointed to the ground beneath Ludwig. Hopefully that was a universal enough sign for his brother to understand, even when his brother wasn't himself.
|
|