hai mươi tám ❀| but the darkness has a hunger; it offers you blood for wild blood

[lotuslife]

[The day wears on, and long streaks of golden light are starting to settle across Mayfield as the sun begins to set. Downtown, there's someone casting a long shadow as they walk slowly down the street. It's a young woman; she's dragging something large and unwieldy. Whatever it is, it's leaving a long, dark smear on the road as it's pulled along- a

Comments

Blanket permission for everything

[muskatli]

[She'd just about finished making her rounds, the unexpected rounds that came in the most un-festive like morning of Christmas. It had started with the awful disposal of that unpleasant, unwanted Christmas gift, descending into multiple stops at equally distressed households.

When Hungary's finally done, finally ready to get home, she does notice the thin trail of blood on the asphalt leading up the street. But it's nothing out of the ordinary on this particular day, right?]

wh-whyyyy ;A;

[lotuslife]

[Nothing at all! In fact, she's just getting ready to abandon the body. She needs to go change her clothes, anyway. And she's still hungry. Vietnam stands.]

Because nothing bad ever happens to Hungary ;O;

[muskatli]

You're out, too? [It's a stupid question, but Hungary's heart is too weary for anything intelligent. Her eyes flick to the lifeless body at Vietnam's feet. At this distance, she can't really identify it.]

...What has he done? You're alright, aren't you?

[lotuslife]

[She looks over her shoulder and her face lights up. She smiles at Hungary.]

I feel fine. I'm just a bit hungry.

[muskatli]

How could you be fine? You're soaked!

[She takes in a few more details, like the very few scratches on Vietnam herself, despite the stains and the damage.]

Let's get you home and cleaned up. We can deal with this [she glances down at the body, dead body, once more, before taking a few steps closer.]

[lotuslife]

[She takes a step back when Hungary comes towards her, casually.]

That's kind of you, but I told you. I am fine.

[muskatli]

You don't look fine--[she then pauses as something becomes clearer, and something else comes to mind; Romana's plight from before, hunched over a broken mirror.]

Miss Vietnam--Comrade... What did you get for Christmas?

[lotuslife]

[she gives a vague answer, looking away.] Understanding. [she looks back to Hungary.] Are you armed?

[muskatli]

[At least it's not a severed body part or a dead animal. Is that a relief? She's not sure.] I have my frying pan, of course. [And she's ready to use to, to help, so she smiles reassuringly.]

[lotuslife]

I don't think that's enough. [she lifts both hands in a shooing motion, palms down.] Start running. I like you, so I'll give you a head start.

1/2

[muskatli]

[She's rooted to the spot. She shouldn't be, as every cell in her body is telling her to run, telling her something is terribly wrong. A part of her wants to flee, muscles tense, legs slightly bent to sprint, but the rest of her body is too immobilized by surprise and a measure of fear.]

...Comrade?

[muskatli]

[Her survival instincts, the only thing stronger than her stubbornness, takes over, and she turns in a second, heels barely touching the ground as she sprints fast]

[lotuslife]

[Vietnam stands and watches Hungary. She counts out ten seconds on her fingers, one by bloody one, and then she reaches 'ten', she bounds off after Hungary like it's nothing to her, her footsteps light as air on the ground. And she's fast, terrifyingly fast, and in no time, she's right behind the other woman.

Her hands reach out to grab at Hungary's long hair flying out behind her.]

[muskatli]

[The wind is already lashing at her face when she's running this face, and her lungs are burning with their need for air. She is too human in this inconvenient, limited body, and with the tug comes, the pain at her scalp barely registers compared to the one in her throat.

Her sweat slicked palm barely holds on to the knife in her grip, extracted when running, and she hacks purposefully at her hair, not Vietnam's face, until she's loose enough to stumble back for another go at running.]

[lotuslife]

[The hair comes loose just enough that it slips out of her grip entirely, and she gives a breathless, exhilarated kind of laugh.] That was clever! [She picks up the pace and leaps, and suddenly she's in front of Hungary.]

[muskatli]

[The frying pan is not a proper long range weapon, but it's wide enough to block the anticipated first frontal blow. Giving her back to Vietnam was stupid, and she knows that now.]

What did they do to you? [She takes a step back, then a second, shifting the pan to protect any vital spot in the meantime. Her grip on the knife intensifies as not to let it slip.]