And the battle's just begun [OPEN]
Characters: OPEN to all those participating in the fight.
Location: Outside Shibusen
Rating: R for violence.
Time: July 22nd - during the fight.
Description: The fight to finally take Adachi down begins.
Note: OPEN
( There's many lost, but tell me who has won )
Location: Outside Shibusen
Rating: R for violence.
Time: July 22nd - during the fight.
Description: The fight to finally take Adachi down begins.
Note: OPEN
( There's many lost, but tell me who has won )
But maybe that was a problem all of its own, he thought, sighing quietly as he spotted the medic group up ahead. Even besides having said he would help, he wanted to give what assistance he could. There were a lot of citizens out there risking themselves, and Nations, too, if they were were human here, of course he would want to do what he could to support them. It might just mean taking care of a few injuries, but if that was what he could do...
He was an independent Nation now, and what he wanted should be just as important as what Poland wanted.
Turning his head to glance at Poland before looking back at the medics, he said, "We're almost there." Of course, it was obvious they were. There was really no need to say it, except to say something. He'd already been quiet the whole way here, and with Poland going between sulking and complaining, it just felt like he should say something before they arrived.
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He thought that just as Lithuania finally looked at him - which made him perk up somewhat, in a small way, but then he remembered he was supposed to be Not Approving and fell back into a frown - and he responded to it with a bit of a 'hmph,' crossing his arms tighter, gripping his elbows.
They were going to die. No, not they; Lithuania was going to die, again, in the middle of helping people who didn't really deserve it, in the middle of following Germany's orders. And...
... Those thoughts had him skipping forward a bit, until he drew even with the other again (he'd been keeping a good few steps behind, just for principle), not much noticing how it made the mud slosh higher on their boots. That was usual, expected, even if he wanted to ignore what situation they were in. The looming possibility of death wasn't. He meant to sound just as cranky as usual, but it broke down some time before exiting his throat, coming out way too hesitant. "Liet... Are you totally positive that you, like, really... Want to...?"
Of course he was. Poland wouldn't have been here if he wasn't.
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This was Poland unsure and uneasy, he realized with a start. It was the same anxiety-ridden Poland who had always used him as a shield. This was making Poland that uncomfortable?
How could he not have noticed? It used to be that he could always read Poland's moods. Had the years they'd been separated really made such a difference?
Were they, he couldn't help thinking, also responsible for making him someone who could cause Poland this sort of anxiety?
"I wan-" he started, choking on his words before he'd even figured out what he wanted to say. It was one thing to drag Poland along when he was merely being fractious about it, but if it was affecting him so much, didn't it make him the bull-headed one if he insisted on it?
Unsure himself now, Lithuania's mouth trembled as he finally managed to say, "There are people who could use our help."
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But something was different. Poland found himself knotting his hands in the hem of his jacket, frown not so much sulky as honestly discontent, stomach coiling a bit. It'd been such a good start of the day, until this... The... That feeling.
That he was going to be left alone again, in a stupid city with a stupider mall and the stupidest people, and maybe he couldn't even meet the other's eyes now, glancing off to the side while thinking. He knew how much Lithuania liked to help. He did. He just...
"Yeah, okay. I guess."
Further arguments popped up- why don't you just let those other guys handle it? we aren't that good. there's no reason. But, maybe for once in front of Lithuania, he kept them down. Maybe because he'd already said them all when they were heading out of the Communal.
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Something so bad Poland wouldn't even look at him.
"It's not really okay, is it?" he asked softly. Whatever it was that was eating at Poland, it had to be something. There wasn't any question that something was wrong, very wrong, but...
But if it was part of whatever it was Poland had stopped Prussia from saying to him, whatever it was Hungary and Germany had avoided when the topic came up, whatever it was about his earlier disappearance that Canada hadn't mentioned...
"Whatever it is that none of you will tell me," he started quietly. His voice should have been only just audible enough for Poland to hear, and yet it somehow echoed back to him by the rain, making him want to continue even less. But he had to ask. He had to know. And if it was something that was getting between himself and Poland, wasn't it better for Poland, too, if he knew? If they could deal with it?
Clearing his throat, he continued hesitantly. "It's something bad, isn't it? More than just me disappearing. Is it because of that, that you-" his voice broke on that, and when he continued, his voice was a cracked whisper. "What is it that I can't be told?"
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It was the cracked whisper that got him.
Yes, his lip wobbled; he quivered a bit, too, though it would be easily attributed to the cold. It was weird. Anything else (if he'd have arrived at the same time as Liet, not a week of sitting around), and he would've just smiled and threw his hands up and laughed about it, but this was... Different. Everything here was too different. Even that thing that wasn't ever supposed to be different was different.
But he'd always have his will to move on, so after rubbing the toe of his boot into the soggy sand for a while, he looked up, started, "You--" stopped, "- you, were-" stopped again, "- they said that, like-" stopped once more.
Restarted.
"... You... were dead. Liet."
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As it sunk in, his first thought was that really, he shouldn't have expected it to be anything but this. Prussia had been talking about defeating him, and...
And he had, somehow, managed to die while he was here before, in a time of which he had no memory.
He collapsed, his knees giving out, as though they didn't want to bear the weight of this revelation. In some part of his mind he expected a jolt of pain to his hands and knees as he fell, and was dully surprised that it seemed more like a...clatter.
He hurt, not for his own sake, but for Poland's. If it were only himself to worry about, he would only be confused. How could he have died if he was alive now, he might have had time to think, or perhaps, had he really died, and they'd simply brought him again, with their machine that could disregard the flow of time?
Of course, Nations died. It wasn't the same as when citizens died, but that didn't mean they didn't. It wasn't as though all the Nations they had known when they were children were still alive, but they... They had survived so much. It would have been hard, so hard, if he had arrived to hear that Poland had died here. How painful must have Poland's time here been, and then suddenly having him appear, alive after all.
"I'm not dead," he said, and the words, surprisingly, came out accompanied by a wind that pushed him a pace or two back. "W-what was that?" he squeaked, the sound coming out with another burst of wind.
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"I know. It's r-really, like, totally, awes-" Wait. What was that breeze? Had Adachi struck so suddenly that they couldn't even hear him? Was this going to be like the pacific front during the World War--
"..."
Poland'd looked back to make sure that Lithuania hadn't fainted or fallen or anything bad like that, but when he only saw empty air, there was an emotional war between instant anger - how dare he walk off in the middle of this! - and gripping fear. No, no, he couldn't just disappear, he had more use for Shibusen than Poland did.
"Liet?" So the Nation shuffled forward on suddenly shaky legs, eyes scanning everywhere. "Liet--?" His foot accidentally nudged into a handvac, and he jumped at it with a bit of a yelp (what? it was startling!), stumbling back. The moment seemed to be broken, though he was still unsure, mumbling, hands going up around his ears defensively; "... Okay. Why... was he carrying a vacuum?"
Very unsure.
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Was there something invisible attacking them? It was a fairly weak attack, if it could only move him a few paces.
...There was something terribly wrong in the logic here, but he couldn't quite...
No. No, he could place it. The wind had gone passed him, toward Poland, so it should have come from behind him. How had he been pushed backwards by it?
What was it, then? "P-Poland?" he questioned, his voice coming out far higher pitched than he would really have wanted to admit, accompanied this time by a strange whirring sound. "Who's carrying a vacuum? Did you see it?"
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A deep shock and a tiny vacuum.
"Oh... my GodLiet!" His pitch was just as high as his friend's, crouching down, hands fidgeting around the vacuum's covering as if unsure whether to grab it or not. Very unsure.
But some relief, too. At least he hadn't disappeared. Poland couldn't stop a slightly (maybe hiccupy) sigh at that; alright. That wasn't so bad. So his friend had just been turned into a vacuum - it was totes better than the other option.
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Had he seriously injured himself? He really shouldn't have, not from such a small drop. Even if they were human here, even humans shouldn't be fragile enough to injure themselves from just that, right?
"H-hey," he protested as Poland bumped into him. If he was injured, Poland should at least know better than to go knocking into him.
But then Poland was at his side, freaking out, and how had Poland only just realized he was injured, and Poland's hands were ghosting along what should have been his back, and it wasn't his back and oh God he wasn't human. He wasn't even human-shaped anymore. "Oh, God, oh God," he said, jittering, falling into incoherency, not entirely sure how much of it was a prayer, how much petition, and how much of it was complete nonsense.
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"Calm down, um, seriously- oh my God- it's fine!" He fidgeted, shuffled, yanked at a damp strand of hair in a few moments of panic, but then did what anyone would have done when faced with their Best Friend Ever turning into a vacuum.
He reached out and scooped him up.
Well, at least it fit well; but Poland didn't think about that, or the vague feeling of calm that followed it up, cradling the appliance like it was some sort of fragile vase and peering very, very closely at the back cover of it.
Finally, mumbling: "... S-so... You. This is- Liet? I'm not just, like, totally completely crazy and oh my God my imagination turns my best friend into a stupid vacuum?" That was actually something of a bummer. And a hysterical plea for normalcy.
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No, it was important to think about this calmly.
Lithuania took a deep breath to steady himself and it almost set him off into a panic again, the sudden and obviously vacuum-like inrush of air unexpected. But really, it should have been obviously, right? He'd already experienced bursts of wind, and Poland had mentioned a vacuum.
So he was a vacuum. Not a very large one, either, he realized as Poland picked him up. It wasn't even really that much stranger than Tony's propensity for beaming him up, was it? No, not really, just much more surprising. He'd known Tony was an alien, and that alien's liked to abduct people, and maybe it had been odd the first time, but it was just how Tony was, so...
Augh, he was supposed to be considering his vacuuminess, not Tony. It didn't really help to keep getting off track.
All right. So, it was just surprising because it was so surprising. There wasn't anything wrong with that. How was he supposed to know that his second day after being brought to this America's house that wasn't even America's house at all, somehow, that he would be turned into a vacuum? Canada and Germany might have warned him that there was something like people being Weapons, but he hadn't really thought that meant turning into weapons. And was a vacuum really a weapon, anyway?
Well, at least it had happened with Poland around. He couldn't think of anyone he would prefer to have around when he was having a crisis. Even, he thought, if it was usually Poland who had crises. As much as it might be a strange thought, it felt kind of right to be a vacuum in Poland's hands.
...No, it was definitely a strange thought, an extremely strange thought, and probably one he shouldn't ever say aloud.
By the time Poland spoke up again, Lithuania was calm enough to pay attention. When it was something so ridiculous, that Poland could imagine a situation like this... He couldn't hold in a short chortle. "I'm sure I'm a very nice vacuum," he finally managed through his laughter.
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Not that he could deny that. The atmosphere of wary, nervous uncertainty had been completely replaced with puzzled, slightly-weirded-out uncertainty, and there was no doubt in Poland's mind that he preferred it massively to the other option. So much more. Geez. Still, some hysteria was bubbling around his throat, not at all helped by the brightly-colored and oddly-shaped "school" that they were standing by, or the fact that it was sand that they were standing on. Hovering over. Being carried over, because that sounded more normal. More sane. And any sanity was good.
But then he looked down at his gross boots and had to remember that it was even soggy sand. Soggy like they were at a beach, only without the fun and sunshine and general relaxation that came with it (as long as the vikings stayed away). God. Nothing could be normal.
"No du'h. What, you think you could be an ugly vacuum? If anything, you're totally, like, a funny vacuum..." Bit of a nervous, nervous, cracked chuckle, at the end of that; Poland couldn't cut it off, just like he couldn't really walk forward or do much more than blink rain out of his eyes (totally rain) and squint at... the new Lithuania.
-- Wait. No.
"Y-you're going to have to turn back!" There. Conviction. Determination. Poland threw all of the will he used to stand back up after wars into his voice, holding the handvac out with both hands like it was completely normal to be yelling at a cleaning appliance.
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If this weren't really happening, he could almost believe it to be the punchline to some awful joke. 'So then the poor fool gets turned into a vacuum, and his friend says to him, But at least you're a funny vacuum.' Though it was completely nonsensical, he hoped if this were only a joke someone somewhere was telling that maybe they were getting a good laugh from it. Someone should be, because really, there wasn't anything he could think of that would be stranger than this.
Poland's sudden declaration broke him out of his thoughts, and the fact that they were standing around in the rain, waiting around for some sort of monster to start attacking people came crashing back to him. There wasn't time to worry about suddenly being a vacuum, or even about somehow having been dead here once upon a time.
"I don't know how!" he protested. "I don't even know how I changed in the first place." It couldn't be permanent, there would certainly have been warnings about it if it were. But he'd barely had any explanation about people being Meisters or Weapons, much less about people actually turning into weapons, and certainly nothing about how it was actually accomplished. This, now, was just an accident.
"There..." he started, and stopped. He would have shaken his head, if he'd had one at the moment. "Maybe you should bring me to the medics. Someone there might know what to do."
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It was so not good odds.
He was about to open his mouth and tell Liet so, that this was stupid and they could head back and figure out how to turn back (though now he recalled Kanji's trick-- thinking about steaks?) there, but after another pause, the rest of the thought followed up.
Nations and aliens were banding together to fight for a reason. And if they lost...
... "We are waaay too invaluable to just run away." Was the final decision, more muttered (audible) then actually said to anyone. With an inner moment of steeling himself, he started forward, even, military-ingrained strides. With a place to go, a goal in mind, and a resolve staring him in the face, he found his nerve to complain again.
"Uugh, Liet, you just have, like, the most horrible time ever to figure out that you're a vacuum..." Never mind that it hadn't been either of their intentions to have this happen.
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