[Video- You can't say this was unexpected ]
[A loud crash can be heard before the video feed starts to play, it quickly opens to a view to of the hetalia’s house livingroom. The place is trashed and there's an area of devastation comparable to a train-wreck. Practically none of the furniture is in one piece and there are bloodstains on the floor and the walls. And there’s Russia with a pipe in his hands and Prussia a few steps away, sword drawn.
Gilbert is bleeding from a wound in his forehead, but he pays no mind to the blood dripping down his cheek, his eyes fixed in the nation in front of him. His posture is tense, ready to jump in action again, and there’s a savage look in those red eyes that complement the cynic grin he’s showing.
Russia's bleeding. Or else someone's blood mysteriously got on his coat, all over his left shoulder and most of his sleeve. He's limping slightly, leaning with his left leg as opposed to the right. The pipe's in his hands. Always. And it may be bent in some places, or it may be a trick of the light. His hands are bleeding, knuckles mostly, and there's a few scratches on his face, not deep enough to scar but not small enough to fade.
Most importantly, as always, are his eyes. They're the same blue violet as always. No anger in them. Not much, anyway. A serenity in them. It doesn't match the violence of the room, or the blood on his outfit, or the wounds he's received and given. He has a smile on his face, but it seems completely false. Smiling like a shark. Something dangerous and tension filled underneath, just a beat away from snapping into tiny pieces. Maybe it already has. His scarf's still in place. As usual. He looks like Death frozen over, otherwise.
This can't end well.]
(ooc: feel free to actio spam, otherwise replies come 2 hours later.))
Gilbert is bleeding from a wound in his forehead, but he pays no mind to the blood dripping down his cheek, his eyes fixed in the nation in front of him. His posture is tense, ready to jump in action again, and there’s a savage look in those red eyes that complement the cynic grin he’s showing.
Russia's bleeding. Or else someone's blood mysteriously got on his coat, all over his left shoulder and most of his sleeve. He's limping slightly, leaning with his left leg as opposed to the right. The pipe's in his hands. Always. And it may be bent in some places, or it may be a trick of the light. His hands are bleeding, knuckles mostly, and there's a few scratches on his face, not deep enough to scar but not small enough to fade.
Most importantly, as always, are his eyes. They're the same blue violet as always. No anger in them. Not much, anyway. A serenity in them. It doesn't match the violence of the room, or the blood on his outfit, or the wounds he's received and given. He has a smile on his face, but it seems completely false. Smiling like a shark. Something dangerous and tension filled underneath, just a beat away from snapping into tiny pieces. Maybe it already has. His scarf's still in place. As usual. He looks like Death frozen over, otherwise.
This can't end well.]
(ooc: feel free to actio spam, otherwise replies come 2 hours later.))