Re: Murphy's Law 2b/3
anonymous
August 9 2010, 13:30:42 UTC
Blood pooled around his head, coated his dress shirt, sluggishly bubbling from a gaping wound in his throat. Air wheezed softly from the hole.
It's fucking bad.
His eyes were closed behind cracked glasses, cheeks scraped, and showing the beginnings of bruises. The jaw was in position that made it obvious that it was broken.
And these were just the visible injuries.
If he'd been human, he would most likely be dead right now.
One hand reached to lightly touch the battered face, and was rewarded with a flickering of eyelashes. The pure blue gaze was glazed with injury and something resembling fear that melted away as he leaned close enough for Alfred to see him.
“Shh. Don't move. It's over.” Arthur told him softly. The barest hint of a smile crossed bleeding lips that moved in unvoiced words.
'Sorry for being late.'
The eyes fluttered closed again.
England swallowed the emotion that made him want to just rage at the one who had marred his boy. But that man had a bullet in his head, and this man needed the kind of help that one small nation couldn't give.
Arthur flipped out his mobile, and made the necessary calls, then sat next to Alfred. A gentle hand stroked the boy's forehead, while the other clutched the gun, aware of every sound in the vicinity. He had enough ammunition left-- and this time he wouldn't hesitate.
God help anyone else who tried to mess with England tonight.
Re: Murphy's Law 2b/3
anonymous
August 9 2010, 16:18:50 UTC
Jesus, anon. D: I really like all the realistically inane thoughts that go through Alfred's head, and the suspense is certainly killing me, but that last line? Dear god, that line really resonates. I tried to avoid phrasing this way, but ... I pity the fool who even looks wrong at America tonight. XD;
Re: Murphy's Law 2b/3
anonymous
August 12 2010, 17:19:24 UTC
In a situation like that, little inane thoughts are probably the mind's way to keep itself from completely freaking out. Know I've experienced it in a wreck, bleeding and broken limb, wondering where my friend was parked, and wondering how I was going to make it to work the next day.
(Hoping that's a 'Jesus, anon. D:' in a good way. :D)
Re: Murphy's Law 2b/3
anonymous
August 10 2010, 06:09:31 UTC
Oh shit son, I now have a hard-on for England-with-a-gun like you wouldn't believe. omg he shot him in the throat ew ew ew ... Is there even official first aid for that? 'Cause they would aspirate and you can't even put pressure on it in the field and ... why why why ew T_T
Re: Murphy's Law 2b/3
anonymous
August 12 2010, 17:25:18 UTC
The boy could easily swing around a buffalo about 20 times his size when he was very young. Combine that with actual combat experience, and the realization that he's not someone that can be taken down by one normal person that easily just kinda smacks you between the eyes. It had to be brutal, serious, and take him without warning, otherwise it'd be the optimistic ending that England was kinda hoping for-- with the addition of a little dirt, sweat, and scuffing that come along with a minor fight in the streets. I'm glad you liked it though. :)
Blood pooled around his head, coated his dress shirt, sluggishly bubbling from a gaping wound in his throat. Air wheezed softly from the hole.
It's fucking bad.
His eyes were closed behind cracked glasses, cheeks scraped, and showing the beginnings of bruises. The jaw was in position that made it obvious that it was broken.
And these were just the visible injuries.
If he'd been human, he would most likely be dead right now.
One hand reached to lightly touch the battered face, and was rewarded with a flickering of eyelashes. The pure blue gaze was glazed with injury and something resembling fear that melted away as he leaned close enough for Alfred to see him.
“Shh. Don't move. It's over.” Arthur told him softly. The barest hint of a smile crossed bleeding lips that moved in unvoiced words.
'Sorry for being late.'
The eyes fluttered closed again.
England swallowed the emotion that made him want to just rage at the one who had marred his boy. But that man had a bullet in his head, and this man needed the kind of help that one small nation couldn't give.
Arthur flipped out his mobile, and made the necessary calls, then sat next to Alfred. A gentle hand stroked the boy's forehead, while the other clutched the gun, aware of every sound in the vicinity. He had enough ammunition left-- and this time he wouldn't hesitate.
God help anyone else who tried to mess with England tonight.
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Know I've experienced it in a wreck, bleeding and broken limb, wondering where my friend was parked, and wondering how I was going to make it to work the next day.
(Hoping that's a 'Jesus, anon. D:' in a good way. :D)
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http://a.imageshack.us/img838/5585/iggygunkink.th.jpg
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http://img838.imageshack.us/i/iggygunkink.jpg/
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Why so fabulous, anon?
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And then later clean them up, ink them, and color them mercilessly. ;D
Thanks.:)
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This is brilliant! Can't wait to see how it continues!
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It had to be brutal, serious, and take him without warning, otherwise it'd be the optimistic ending that England was kinda hoping for-- with the addition of a little dirt, sweat, and scuffing that come along with a minor fight in the streets.
I'm glad you liked it though. :)
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Glad you liked it.:)
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