And So Begins the Game

[lastmodstanding]

Who: EVERYONE
When: Day 1, morning
Where: Wouldn't you like to know?
Summary: It's the start of the game, all Participants get to find out wtf is happening. Sort of.

Comments

[x_prusija_x]

The chill in the air made the hair on his body prickle and his skin bump. Why was it so cold? The East German curled to himself a little more. Slowly he awoke to an almost familiar grey wall. Sighing softly to himself he got up for another day of paroling the Berlin wall, or was it time to go to the shop? What day was it? Slowly sitting up, he ran a hand back through clean but messy hair of a hue like the pale morning light on a white wall of a country cottage. He muttered a few curses in German about filthy fucking slave driving Russians. But wait- no that wasn't right. It had been at least 10 years since then hadn't it? He was back with his brother, he was supposed to be in bed, his warm comforting bed curled up under thick sheets with the Prussian flag design on them. What the hell was this!? With a small snarl he felt up the object around his neck. A collar? What had happened in the course of a night!? This couldn't be allowed by the EU, nor would his brother EVER willingly allow him to slip back into Russian hands. Kidnapping? Conspiracy? PLOTS AGAINST HIM!?

"Ah, it's not good, it's really no good. It's terrible to feel angry alone, what a feeling." He muttered to himself. Ruby hues dark like a puddle of blood at night barely reflected much light. Pulling himself out of his own thoughts he looked around to grasp where he was exactly and try to recollect how he'd gotten there. Inventory needed to be taken of course! As well company.. that was important. The first thing he noticed was the presence of other nations, all still asleep. Nothing was as finicky a sleeper save wild animals and Gilbert. He was in his military business uniform, what he'd been doing prior still escaped him but he expected it to come back to him later. A bag set next to his bed was quickly ruffled through. He could tell it wasn't his own; map, compass, food, water, and a flashlight. There was also something else but there wasn't enough light to make it out with the sun gone from the sky, still yet to make it's appearance. He usually woke a few hours before dawn to get his exercise in. Picking up the flashlight he flicked it on and shined it around the room. There was something stony but fresh in the air, it smelled like woods and old military construction. Regular buildings had a different sort of smell then those built in times of war. But whose was it? Those guards made him suspicious, no way he was going to move when he was basically unarmed. The Prussian sat with his back to the hard stone wall, and his bag between his knees... waiting and doing little else but staring holes into the back of those soldiers. Soldiers never talked if they were professional, and these guys looked professional, there was no use wasting his breath.

[x_prusija_x]

When the voice spoke up over the loudspeaker, the Prussian was instantly irritated at such a chipper voice. "Too much like the damn Russian. I wonder if he's to blame for this shit." There wasn't even anything to write out his cool but tender angst out on!! Grabbing his things he followed every one out to the large screen and tried to keep quiet long enough to hear out everything that human had to say. Per usual, loud mouths first~ And screw raising hands!! "HEY! Who the fuck do you think you are telling nations what to do? And who hell are these people! If this is under the advice of some new little shit nation, then they better step up because this is an act of war against all of us! I mean I don't care about that jerk." Point to England, "Or that jerk over there." Points to Norway. "Maybe that jerk, I haven't decided yet. BUT ITALY!? That guy can't even tie his own shoes! And this is an act of WAR. WORLD WAR! I should know, I'm QUITE experienced!" Gets a bit distracted, "Nhh but what I'm saying is if I'm going to kill these losers it should be my decision, and not for someone's entertainment. What the hell am I supposed to kill these losers with anyway? And what's the reward? We get to serve the little punk who strapped us up with these stupid collars? I'M NOT A DOG!! I AM THE GREAT AND TOTALLY AWESOME PRUSSIA!" He took a moment before a rather cocky smile took his face. "You know we don't die, so how many times do you think it would take to come back and kill all you humans? I don't sense that any of you are nations, so once you're dead, your numbers will dwindle until you're all gone." He put his hands in his pockets, the picture of dangerous arrogance. "We've got time.. we could wait you out. 80 years max? I've got pants older then you." He started to laugh softly, which built and built until it was obnoxiously loud.

[aphlos_npc]

The woman quietly waited through Prussia's ranting, picking up a little clipboard and running her finger down a list, glancing up every once in awhile as if to reconfirm who the speaker... screamer was. Once he was finally done the clipboard was replaced and she turned to look directly at the pale haired man. "Mr. Prussia correct? Number 43. Firstly, I have been paid quite handsomely by my employers to give you the guidelines of this game. These men" she gestures around to the squad of soldiers "have been paid well, also by my employers, to help me enforce those guidelines. And let me assure you that while my employers wish to remain anonymous for reasons which you might have figured out yourself that they are not some "new little shit nation" and have no intention of starting a war. And I am quite aware of the physical and mental abilities of all the Participants. And if you don't want to kill them under the promise of a reward then you can always simply not participate." Her lips curled into a smile that was just short of malicious. "Of course there are consequences for not participating. Just as there are rewards for winning."

Another click of the projector remote and the screen switched to one large word in red "CONSEQUENCES" and below that more information scrolled past as the woman spoke. "Consequences for losing are as follows; One half of your land forfeited to the winning nation, One half of your citizenry forfeited to the winning nation, one half of all the revenue in your banks forfeited to the winning nation, or 100 years of servitude to the winning nation. This is of course a scale and consequences will be assigned by my employers upon your Exit Interview. You may choose to do this after either your first or second death. Once you take your Exit Interview you will of course be out of the game. There is a weapon in your duffle which has been randomly selected from a list. You may remove it once you have left the building. The collars are simply to help ensure your participation, nothing more. And let me assure you, precautions have been taken to ensure that what you would like to see will not happen. And as for waiting us out..." she held the collar remote aloft again, "should there not be at least one death every twenty-four hours then all the collars will explode save for one randomly chosen nation who will then be declared the winner. I'm sure you'd all like to have better chances of winning than that."

[lepetitarchipel]

At the hauntingly cheery mention of that final rule, a watery little squeak sounded from the middle of the crowd, only slightly muffled by two clammy palms. Seychelles curled even tighter into herself, choking back sobs with only mild success. This--she didn't want this. She didn't want to kill anybody! And, and she didn't want to--she didn't want them to--

She very nearly covered her ears, desperately wishing to block out the woman's voice and get away from this, all of this. But what if she missed something? What if the lady said something important and she missed it and then she...

"But--why are you doing this to us, huh?" she said, hiding the sniffle in her voice as she looked up at the strange woman and her strange bodyguards. Even if they made her flinch back even more, she tried to sit up straight, look half as imposing as Mister Prussia. She hoped against hope that her eyes weren't red. "Wha-what'd we do?"

[aphlos_npc]

"I'm doing this because I've been paid to, and quite well Ms..." up came the clipboard again as she checked the list "Seychelles. Number 36. You haven't done anything. You've been chosen to give you all a chance to prove yourself the best. My employers are very interested in finding this out and I think once you get used to the idea you'll do just fine." Her tone was rather reserved and even if she wasn't as cheerful as she had been before she also didn't sound the slightest bit sympathetic.

[regnumbreton]

England scowled even in his sleep, rolling over and groaning as he felt the springs through the thin mattress dig up to his hip.
...mattress? Oh god don't tell me they threw me the cozzers through me in the cell again-"
When England had closed his eyes, his head had been resting on his arm, his fourth or five glass of beer empty as he drooped in sleep in a pub in London. Now...now he was certain as he groggily rubbed his eyes this was not a cell. Cots? Lined...up-
Blitz. Fuck, its a shelter. Dammit-sirens? Air raid?!...wait..

His heart was pounding panicked in his chest but finally he remembered. No no. Those days were far over. Not a cell? Not a shelter? Where the bloody hell was he? A rather loud a fucking obnoxious voice rattled his still aching head, the soft more delicate voice of a girl easing him from the harsh barking of some brutish kraut. Coming too he didn't even pay much mind to the bag on his bed. Picking it up out of possible kleptic habit. Imperialistic much. He listened, quietly taking in the woman's words as she described just where they were, why they were there...and what in a short while their task would be to do.
"...to prove whose best...what. This is utter nonsense- servitude?! And what the bloody hell is this thing about my god damned neck?!"

Twists the collar. Grumbling and feeling himself sobering up, especially when Seychelles spoke up. She was not as imposing as Prussia sure...so he stood next to her to assist with that.
"You're employers. Just who might they be? If I'm going to be killing my fellow nations for their...enjoyment. I would like to know who it is who thinks they can collar a Brit like a dog and make him dance like a French monkey for peanuts."

[aphlos_npc]

This time the woman had kept the clipboard and she went down the list of names before she spoke to the annoyed Brit, even though his accent was a pretty much instant giveaway. "England. Number 14. As I mentioned earlier to Prussia my employers wish to remain anonymous. As for whether they think they can collar you and make you play this game... please keep in mind that the first part is accomplished. If you would like to lose then I'm sure some of your fellow nations would be more than happy to oblige you if they would like to win."

[dozyliberty]

The Grecian did not awake immediately. Of course, if any soul bound to that very room had expected him to, they didn't know this individual's sleeping habits very well. The bustle to the courtyard was dream-like for Heracles- Clinging to both alien and familiar objects with a secure fashion as his body nearly floated to the destination point. It was only then that his eyes flickered slightly before opening those flesh curtains to produce a view. Confused as he was, he saved his words. Screaming... Crying... It took all too much energy. He knew there was something odd and rather serious about this whole situation... And thus he had no energy to waste on such emotions such as fear or anger. Not at least until he was forced to meet face-to-face with a certain Turk.

"...I suppose I should never under-estimate the power of the Euro," he yawned, speaking almost non-chalantly aside from that obviously lethargic tone, "People do sell their soul to the Gods' for money..."

With those words, he hooked a single digit around that metallic coil binding his neck. Uncomfortable. Perhaps cats were better off being strays. He mused at the thought before agreeing that such a comment was false. Snapping back to the situation at hand, the surely more important one (he couldn't save more strays if his land was taken from him, after-all), he took his seat on the cold, monotonous flooring. Some may have complained of its chill or firmness; but it made no difference to him.

"This is entirely unbelievable, to be honest. I'm about to pinch myself to wake up from this dream, but I don't care for pain... Just in case it happens to be real. I have a hard time figuring out what is a dream lately..."

He looked at the sky for a moment. Undoubtedly, this was real. Perhaps his mind wanted to fool both his body and this woman in front of him into thinking he wasn't 'worth' such a competition as this. Though one look at the Grecian would make such a plan into complete garbage.

"I have no real questions. I will follow suit with the other's concerns and questions." His final words ended with a tired sigh.

[yndigt_land]

Denmark looked down at the Greek, then clapped a hand to the other's shoulder.

"Oh this is no dream! This is a great day!"

And it was. The Dane was fidgeting, tapping his foot and looking through his backpack as though he were a little boy in the most deilcious bakery in Copenhagen. If there was one thing he was confident in it was himself, and he loved a good fight more than only very few things.

Sure, he was as uneasy as the others; it was unnerving to be taken while asleep to a completely unknown place, and the idea of being suddenly blown apart by a remote-controlled collar was horrifying. He'd definitely make sure that didn't happen, as there were enough people on his own personal list that he sure would like to get back at. Though an easygoing guy, he certainly take well to all the injuries to his pride he'd experienced in his history.

He continued tapping his foot, glad for once that he'd fallen asleep with his boots on. He bet Sweden was walking around in some pansy plaid pajamas, or something else lame like that. As he listened to Prussia complaining, he shook his head. Game; the woman had said game. You can win a game. Why complain?

[regnumbreton]

There was an almost protective air about him now as he stood next to Seychelles as other nations awoke. There...were no borders in this place. No reason not to protect someone he had once kept under his wing, even if it had been forced. Once the idiot Frog eater got up he would let her go to him if she wished but for now he was the only other option.

"That will be quite ol'right Miss. I shall stand down for now. I am no fool...."

[sredets]

Bulgaria winced inwardly as he heard the Prussian speak; such loudness did not assist with headaches in the least bit. On top of that, it was far too early in the morning for such noise, clamor, and commotion. Though unfortunately, considering the situation they had all been suddenly placed in, it was almost called for.

He felt his stomach clench into a knot; already, he felt nauseated. He did not sit. Whether or not he had the garb to speak, however, would remain for now. Killing nations. The penalty and prizes seemed meager for such a feat. Only one hundred years... he could deal with that. And, for a moment, he'd actually considered asking where the hell the bathroom was and escaping through a window; perhaps when he returned (as ridiculously hopeful as it may sound) they'd all had already killed each other. All he'd have to do was just pick off the last one, and be declared the victor. No work involved, the best way to go. If only they decided not to return for round two, that is. If only. But then again, a guard would probably insist on watching him piss and there went that plan. Instead, he opted to remain silent for now, watching the scene unfold and his fellow nations interact-- his mind was already shifting into full gear, as unheard of as it was for him at such a time.

Though, there was something else -- It was when the Greek spoke that his attention deviated. And to think, now that was some territory he'd like to get his hands on. Hell, most of it had been his once; if anyone were to 'inherit' it, then he felt he was the most deserving choice. Screw Turkey, he could go die in a hole somewhere. It was only rightfully his in the long-run, right? Violet gaze shifted downward to linger for a moment on the back of said nation's head, before absent-mindedly crossing his arms over his chest -- somewhat of subconscious defense mechanism -- and tearing his gaze away before the Greek could turn and catch his eye. The Dane was preoccupying. He ground his teeth, looking to the left and simply remaining all ears for the questions that would surely continue to follow.

Now... Only when Mister Russia decided to show his face would things get more... interesting.

[solvind]

Like Bulgaria, Norway was quiet, coldly surveying the company from a corner (discreet, out of the way), wishing he could close his eyes and will everyone to disappear. This game was both troublesome and cruel, shrouded in mystery. The woman with the high-pitched, energetic voice would say nothing, tell no truths but the ones she was hired to tell, and even then, they could not tell what was lie and what was not.

It had been long since he had bothered to assert his standing in the world, finding it far less than worth his time to meddle in the violent affairs of others unless for his own protection. Sure, he wished, sometimes for a return to the days of hot-blooded raiding in the cold of winter, but it was not that sort of age any longer. If he could help it, he wouldn't want to participate in this ridiculous game, but if subjugation and partition was the consequence, even for so short a time, he had had more than enough of that under Denmark.

This is no dream! This is a great day!

When was the last time he'd heard those words, said in that tone of voice? Was it when they were fighting side by side as they raided the European mainland uncontested? When blood and guts were the usual course? Or perhaps, it was the beginning of that farce of a union, a prime example of Denmark's irresponsibility. Or no, maybe, when they had to fight, fight hard against Sweden... It seemed almost natural that Denmark, of all the nations placed in this sick game, would enjoy it. It somehow suited him. Norway sighed inwardly and watched the Dane's face go from excitement to delight, a vague look of disgust showing almost imperceptibly on his face - a look that perhaps, only someone who knew him as well as the Dane did would notice.

Still, their only option appeared to be 'play the game or die trying'. No one would be allowed to leave the island until they were ruined or crippled. The global landscape long after this was finished would be, among other things, a changed thing. One could only hope that the winner would be prepared to deal with such a huge "prize".

He knew at least one nation he did not trust with that responsibility. Even a hundred years with him was tortuous.

[x_prusija_x]

"HEY YOU! You coming?" He barked as he strolled up to the Bulgarian as if he automatically expected that Bulgaria would come with him, Denmark, and Ludwig if he ever found the guy. "We're about to head off. No point hanging out in a Danger zone. But if you'd rather just go with team Bad-Taste, they're grouping over there with the weaklings. It's sure save us trouble then trying to hop ships at the last minute." He put his hands on his hips, looking oh so imposing save for the canary on his head which was perched quite comfortably. It's little yellow head turned around and tucked into a wing to preen out some feathers while it enjoyed it's position on the top of the worlds most loudest nation.

"Unless of course, you're going to side with that vodka-bastard." As he recalled Bulgaria had become a satellite state around the time he himself had. Though there was certainly different opinions towards Russia. This was quite! the serious matter. He tipped his head slightly as he watched Bulgaria, sending the canary slightly a flutter before it got cozy again amongst those strands of pale blond hair.

[sredets]

Bulgaria raised his eyebrows as Prussia came nearer and spoke; for one thing, he hadn't expected anyone to willingly approach him for something that obtained only the slightest semblance of an alliance. He thought he'd be grasping at straws for how many that even knew he existed. Though, he was grateful for it -- even if the Prussian's words further made him feel skeptical about his potential choices for alliances, it made things easier. His hands clenched into fists, military duffle held tightly at his side. His headache would not be subsiding anytime soon.

Had he been planning to side with Russia? He didn't even know the answer himself. His actions during WWII had been one thing, and he'd been his most loyal ally during the Cold War; even going as so far as to earn the nickname the Sixteen Republic of the USSR. And the first nation to reelect communists after gaining initial independence... To this day, the man still made him sick with corruption. No. But that'd been his choice. Indecisiveness plagued his conscience. Though, he would certainly not join 'team Bad-Taste': after all, with England in it and the only thing that rang in his head after hearing that nation's name, even presently, was Imperialist. The Balkan region had been nicknamed the 'Playground of the Great Powers', and for good reason too. No, joining that side was out of the question for him. A noticeable eyebrow furrow. And then, twice he had chosen the wrong side in both World Wars, both being on the side of the Germans. Even if things were different now, did he really want to make the same decision again? The answer was definitive.

He repressed a shallow laugh; instead vying for a tentative smirk. Yes, things were definitely going to get interesting.

"No, of course. I'd definitely prefer to be on your side."

[x_prusija_x]

He quirked a brow. "Whatever's going on in your head right now you can leave it here. Also, I meant what I said about the hopping ships thing. Last time things got tough you quit our side and went to kneel before the Allies. . . and let me tell you, if you do that again, I'm going to once more shove my boot up your ass and damned if my brother doesn't help. Believe me, I'm dead serious." Those eyes narrowed as he expressed just how dangerously crucial this decision that he presented to Bulgaria was. "I'm only going to give you this one chance right now; us or them. I wont take betrayal lightly, and you'll be worse if it's with that vodka sipping rapist." His voice got a lot less light hearted, "At the first sign of treason I'll dig out your eyes and cut out your tongue before I dismember the rest of you.. twice over if need be. So you think carefully on it, I've got a vendetta and those chumps." He thumbed to England and the rest who were forming a eclectic bunch of wimps, pussys, and women. "And they've got dead weight." The Prussian pointed between them at the ground, those ruby eyes were unmistakably out for blood, "So you have until we leave to think about it once over, if you're sure-" The blond's mood changed in that instant as if he'd never been serious before! "Then we'll head out~"

Gilbert gave a sharp tooth cocky grin, head tipping again sending the canary fumbling for a grip. "It'll be nice to work with you again Bulgaria." The Prussian gave Bulgaria a firm slam on the back before laughing, his tone returning to headache educing levels. "West might bring Ita-chan, so remember! No hitting him, kay? Can't hurt what'll come in handy." He gave some obnoxious laughter before looking off to the side almost schizophrenically and talking to himself, "Ah but it's so much better working alone sometimes. Not like I need anyone, it's just better right Fritz? Right? Ah I know. But-! That's how you taught me so that's what I'm going to try.. HAHAHAHAH!!!" He interlocked his fingers behind his head like a care free highschool boy waiting at the bus stop with friends. Oh no, nothing more serious then who was the cutest girl at school had been discussed!

[sredets]

His head throbbed, form jolted slightly in surprised as he was clapped on the back. Other than that, his expression had subsided into one of careful indifference, though still softly smiling at Prussia's words. Been there, experienced that. Yes, most nations hadn't changed in the slightest. He made note of what he was saying, heeding his words and promises. The small bird on the nation's head was mesmerizing at the moment, as it flailed and struggled to keep its balance numerous times through-out.

"Ahaha... да, да, very. No hitting Italy, got'cha." Even as tempting as it sounded, for whatever reason. Though, Italy? Come in handy? For some sort-of twisted bait, perhaps. His gaze shifted as Prussia began to chat to himself-- or Fritz, rather -- and to the gates where the women was now calling attention to. And then his name was called, sending a slight shiver through his spine. Damn all this.

"Well, yeah. I guess I'll have to meet up with you and the others later... and until then," he nodded toward him in temporary farewell, unsure if the Prussian would actually hear him in his current state, but it didn't really matter much anyway. Not much more to say on the matters.

"See you."

And with that, he turned and began walking towards the gate.