Locked doors, locked doors, and more locked doors. Not that it was all this Sanctuary had to boast, but nothing else made as lasting an impression as the heavy, ice-cold chains and padlocks. They are poor decoration, useful only to deter trolls and fairies. And that was a most disagreeable idea
( ... )
After returning to his room, he toweled his bloody hands off using a towel from the bathroom, dropping it on the floor carelessly. He meant business; while he was surprised no member of the staff had tried to stop him yet -- especially after his behavior at the room check -- he wasn't going to bide his time. Something needed to happen now, something drastic, and he'd had plenty of practice as causing trouble during the war
( ... )
Having already found the kitchen once before, Finland made his way there from his room quite easily, clutching the bandages and jar of salve with a sense of purpose. He wasn't floundering in this place anymore, he had a goal, and as reckless and haphazard as the plan (if it could even be called that) was--it was still something to work with.
The possible consequences nagged at him, but he dismissed them. Everything had a consequence (his left arm stung at the thought, and he winced, thanked God no one was around to witness,) but there were always things that were worth it. At least it would be in the relative isolation of the snow, a situation he was familiar with and somewhat comforted by.
The kitchen was ahead. He hastened his pace, footsteps echoing slightly. He heard water running, Denmark must have already been in there. "I got the bandages," Finland said as he crossed into the room, "and I brought some medicine I, uh, I found--"
Oh! Norway was there too; that meant at least one less person to convince to leave the wing. "Uh,
( ... )
A pause as a familiar figure came into view. It was Denmark, only without that smug, ridiculous display of assertiveness he was well-disliked for. No confident strides, no authoritative air, no booming loud voices. Norway’s gaze briefly met his childhood friend’s, and he flinched so very slightly. Here comes the breaker of silence, the lover of attention, he who thinks he has everything under control - what will he say about his current state of captivity
( ... )
Shutting the water off, the Dane wipes his hands dry on a hand-towel he finds laying on the counter, not caring whether he's staining it or not. Finland looked rather prepared; he was impressed with the kid, to say the least. There were a few more moments where he paused, thinking to himself if this were really something they could do. What if it didn't work? What if. . .since when did you ever doubt so much, he silently asked himself. How many times during the war did you hear of resistance setting a timer on a bomb and then running for their lives?
This would be simple. He sat down at the table wordlessly, despite the fact that Norway had just stood.
Finally, with a little laugh as he forcefully shoved his reservations (few they were, anyhow) to the back of his mind, he spoke.
"Thanks for your help, Finland. You must have hid those really well during the room check!" It was painfully obvious that his attempt to lighten the mood was very forced.
Oh, not again... Finland swallowed the urge to turn around again; clashes between Norway and Denmark were never pleasant.
"I think I'm okay, thank you Norje!" he insisted even as he fumbled with his supplies a little before practically dumping them on the table. Oops; that probably looked silly of him. And it occurred to him he was missing something. "Although--would you mind, um, getting some scissors?"
He sat down beside Denmark and began to unravel some gauze. "Oh, I, um. I buried it in the wall... Thought it might come in handy." Though not as a wick, he thought.
Heh, the little guy was resourceful, Denmark thought, as he held out one raw hand covered with scratches and cuts, a few of which stubbornly continued to slowly bleed. That had been reckless; but the Dane wasn't one to regret and try to learn from his mistake. If anything, the little injuries were just distraction enough from the fact that he knew his grasp on the situation, on reality itself, was tenuous.
"So Finland," he began with a grin, almost as if the smile which he felt was so charming made it easier to cast doubt and fear aside,
"Tell me what we're going to have to do. I'm all ears."
He flexed his hand a little, wincing as the injuries stung. He struggled to push the small voice that was shouting, overjoyed, that it was Norge, Norge who he'd worried about over every report of Germany aggression, to the back of his mind. If he did manage to bust out of this place, he was sure the others would be grateful. He struggled for patience.
Finland returned Denmark's smile with a slight upturned twitch of his lips. He didn't feel nearly as confident as Denmark appeared to be. "If you'd hold out your hands, please?" Without really waiting, he took one Denmark's hands and turned it palm-up before scooping some ointment out of the jar with two fingers and rubbing it into the Dane's hand.
Businesslike, he worked as he spoke, spreading salve and unraveling gauze. "We'll need to get everyone out of the wing first. There are cameras in the corridors so we can't make the cocktails in the open, but we can probably hide in one of the rooms. They shouldn't be suspicious of some old friends having a drink, right?"
The corners of his mouth twitched up again, but he didn't take his eyes off of Denmark's hands while he was talking. His gaze was unfocused and he wrapped the bandages as if he'd done it so many times before he no longer needed to pay attention.
"There are cameras in the rooms. Didn't you notice? There are cameras everywhere."
He sighed. Sure, it would be easy to break them, but there wouldn't be an subtlety in that at all. Then again, there wasn't any subtlety in throwing a bomb at the wall. He wondered, vaguely, what kind of damage it would really cause. Was it worth the trouble? He'd surely be in trouble with the staff; there could be serious consequences for both him and Finland. After what both of them had gone through, he didn't know how things would turn out after that.
But the recklessness of it all heated his blood; he wanted to do something with abandon, tired of quiet and careful planning. He kneaded his forehead with a palm, tiredly.
"I guess if we do it quickly enough, they wouldn't be able to stop us anyway." He winced at the salve, but was pleased at the other's expert bandaging job.
"Tak, Suomi." he said, careful to hold still while the other worked.
A request for a pair of scissors: to bandage Denmark with.
Denmark himself rather badly injured, cuts and scratches that bleed profusely; Denmark, who was engaged in an activity that would injure him so, yet had no stupid, boastful stories to tell, instead reduced to having Finland nurse him like this -
An experience of failure.
Whatever happened earlier, it looked like neither had learnt their lesson, and were planning to indulge in more senseless activities.
Well, that’s none of his business. “Very well,” Norway spoke, giving Finland another slight nod. “Is that all you need?”
"Yes!" Finland flashed Noway a distracted smile, "Yes, that's all, thank you!"
He turned back to Denmark, leaving one hand attached to the uncut roll of gauze as he focused on the other. That's right, he'd forgotten about the cameras in the rooms, stark against the white walls. There were cameras everywhere, weren't there, monitoring them at all times. He supposed they could blow one of them up, but that would probably still cause alarm. He knew of ways to cause a lot of vision-obscuring smoke, but that would hinder them as much as their captors.
"We could probably get a couple in before they get to us, and it'll be too late by then. I guess one of us could do something elsewhere, distract them enough to..."
He trailed off. It was only the two of them; if one distracted the guards then only the other could escape. Even if they did both manage to escape, what then? Could they come back for the others? He'd allowed himself to be caught up in Denmark's madness, but he was fairly sure no one else would want to help with such a rash
( ... )
He thought as Suomi tied the last of the bandages off. There; at least now his hands wouldn't trouble him anymore. It was if it had never happened, he suspected, and felt less and less worried about what they were deciding to do -- from here on out those moments of doubt, quiet as they were to begin with, would trouble him no more than the small cuts and nicks
( ... )
'Go as fast as we can', 'hit it with as much force' - and the words which followed after. There could no longer be any doubt that Denmark and Finland were formulating escape plans. Interest: piqued, and Norway stopped in his tracks.
"Yes," he answered Denmark quietly. "Is something wrong?"
Denmark smirked a little, that arrogant smile which came so naturally to him. He could sense the other's interest, it was easy to see in the way he stood, his very posture. It wasn't as if he hadn't been watching that posture for centuries of time, anyhow.
"Oh," he started, tracing an invisible pattern on the tabletop with a bandaged forefinger, "it's just that the North Wing probably won't be there for very much longer."
He stood so that he would be taller than the Norge, pausing as if he were in mid-step. "And I'd hate for you to get caught up in it, is all!" He patted the other on the shoulder before continuing in his path to the pantry, where he began digging. He then moved on to the cupboards; they needed something potent -- and not just for the explosives.
Denmark was always carrying a curse. His very existence alone is one, and so Norway frowned as he dusted his shoulder half-casually, half-fervently, but with the intent of purifying himself from something unclean either way.
"I see you're leading this operation," he spoke, making his way to the sink. "Then yes. I would not dream of being involved, for I can already see that failure is inevitable."
He turned on the tap and proceeded to cleanse his hands.
The insult was so expected he hardly heard it, nor did he notice Norge's casual brushing of his shoulder. Norge just didn't know what was good for him, he rarely did, and if only the other would listen every once in awhile he'd know that Danmark wasn't as idiotic as he suspected.
Or so Danmark told himself, anyway, as he set some strong alcohol on the counter of the kitchen. He pulled nearly everything he could find out of the pantry, then started digging around in each and every cupboard.
Norge never knew what was best for him. But it was Danmark's job to make sure he knew. Most of the time.
"Well it's not like I'd hold things up just because you were still in your room, you know." He swallowed, adding to his stash on the counter. "So it's better if you just stay away anyway."
Reply
Reply
The possible consequences nagged at him, but he dismissed them. Everything had a consequence (his left arm stung at the thought, and he winced, thanked God no one was around to witness,) but there were always things that were worth it. At least it would be in the relative isolation of the snow, a situation he was familiar with and somewhat comforted by.
The kitchen was ahead. He hastened his pace, footsteps echoing slightly. He heard water running, Denmark must have already been in there. "I got the bandages," Finland said as he crossed into the room, "and I brought some medicine I, uh, I found--"
Oh! Norway was there too; that meant at least one less person to convince to leave the wing. "Uh, ( ... )
Reply
Reply
This would be simple. He sat down at the table wordlessly, despite the fact that Norway had just stood.
Finally, with a little laugh as he forcefully shoved his reservations (few they were, anyhow) to the back of his mind, he spoke.
"Thanks for your help, Finland. You must have hid those really well during the room check!" It was painfully obvious that his attempt to lighten the mood was very forced.
Reply
"I think I'm okay, thank you Norje!" he insisted even as he fumbled with his supplies a little before practically dumping them on the table. Oops; that probably looked silly of him. And it occurred to him he was missing something. "Although--would you mind, um, getting some scissors?"
He sat down beside Denmark and began to unravel some gauze. "Oh, I, um. I buried it in the wall... Thought it might come in handy." Though not as a wick, he thought.
Reply
"So Finland," he began with a grin, almost as if the smile which he felt was so charming made it easier to cast doubt and fear aside,
"Tell me what we're going to have to do. I'm all ears."
He flexed his hand a little, wincing as the injuries stung. He struggled to push the small voice that was shouting, overjoyed, that it was Norge, Norge who he'd worried about over every report of Germany aggression, to the back of his mind. If he did manage to bust out of this place, he was sure the others would be grateful. He struggled for patience.
Reply
Businesslike, he worked as he spoke, spreading salve and unraveling gauze. "We'll need to get everyone out of the wing first. There are cameras in the corridors so we can't make the cocktails in the open, but we can probably hide in one of the rooms. They shouldn't be suspicious of some old friends having a drink, right?"
The corners of his mouth twitched up again, but he didn't take his eyes off of Denmark's hands while he was talking. His gaze was unfocused and he wrapped the bandages as if he'd done it so many times before he no longer needed to pay attention.
Reply
He sighed. Sure, it would be easy to break them, but there wouldn't be an subtlety in that at all. Then again, there wasn't any subtlety in throwing a bomb at the wall. He wondered, vaguely, what kind of damage it would really cause. Was it worth the trouble? He'd surely be in trouble with the staff; there could be serious consequences for both him and Finland. After what both of them had gone through, he didn't know how things would turn out after that.
But the recklessness of it all heated his blood; he wanted to do something with abandon, tired of quiet and careful planning. He kneaded his forehead with a palm, tiredly.
"I guess if we do it quickly enough, they wouldn't be able to stop us anyway." He winced at the salve, but was pleased at the other's expert bandaging job.
"Tak, Suomi." he said, careful to hold still while the other worked.
Reply
Denmark himself rather badly injured, cuts and scratches that bleed profusely; Denmark, who was engaged in an activity that would injure him so, yet had no stupid, boastful stories to tell, instead reduced to having Finland nurse him like this -
An experience of failure.
Whatever happened earlier, it looked like neither had learnt their lesson, and were planning to indulge in more senseless activities.
Well, that’s none of his business. “Very well,” Norway spoke, giving Finland another slight nod. “Is that all you need?”
Reply
He turned back to Denmark, leaving one hand attached to the uncut roll of gauze as he focused on the other. That's right, he'd forgotten about the cameras in the rooms, stark against the white walls. There were cameras everywhere, weren't there, monitoring them at all times. He supposed they could blow one of them up, but that would probably still cause alarm. He knew of ways to cause a lot of vision-obscuring smoke, but that would hinder them as much as their captors.
"We could probably get a couple in before they get to us, and it'll be too late by then. I guess one of us could do something elsewhere, distract them enough to..."
He trailed off. It was only the two of them; if one distracted the guards then only the other could escape. Even if they did both manage to escape, what then? Could they come back for the others? He'd allowed himself to be caught up in Denmark's madness, but he was fairly sure no one else would want to help with such a rash ( ... )
Reply
Reply
"Yes," he answered Denmark quietly. "Is something wrong?"
[ ooc; Late tag is LATE I'm so sorry! ;;; ]
Reply
"Oh," he started, tracing an invisible pattern on the tabletop with a bandaged forefinger, "it's just that the North Wing probably won't be there for very much longer."
He stood so that he would be taller than the Norge, pausing as if he were in mid-step. "And I'd hate for you to get caught up in it, is all!" He patted the other on the shoulder before continuing in his path to the pantry, where he began digging. He then moved on to the cupboards; they needed something potent -- and not just for the explosives.
Reply
"I see you're leading this operation," he spoke, making his way to the sink. "Then yes. I would not dream of being involved, for I can already see that failure is inevitable."
He turned on the tap and proceeded to cleanse his hands.
Reply
Or so Danmark told himself, anyway, as he set some strong alcohol on the counter of the kitchen. He pulled nearly everything he could find out of the pantry, then started digging around in each and every cupboard.
Norge never knew what was best for him. But it was Danmark's job to make sure he knew. Most of the time.
"Well it's not like I'd hold things up just because you were still in your room, you know." He swallowed, adding to his stash on the counter. "So it's better if you just stay away anyway."
Reply
Leave a comment