✤ twenty three; (hold your breath through late-breaking disasters)
[The heat is gone.
When he wakes up, he gives a strangled choking sound and half-throws himself out of bed, convinced that he is still on fire, that he is still burning alive, that his skin is peeling open raw and pink and then black and he's burning, burning, burning- he clutches at his arms and head and he can still feel it consuming his very human body-
The phone is knocked off of the bedside table, and so some sounds are broadcast out to the rest of Mayfield: Netherlands catching his breath raggedly, a thud as the table falls over, and sheets rumpling to the floor. Taiwan's drone chatters cheerfully in the background, wondering where her husband has been for the past day, and he ignores her. He gives a smothered sound of anger so great he cannot comprehend it. He's hissing to himself in his own language, a raspy whisper:]
Ze kon het niet- we bijna--
[He jerks his head to the side and sees that the phone is hanging open. The call ends with the phone being slammed back down on the receiver loudly.
The fact that he died has not truly hit him yet.
Only those present in the house can hear his next exclamation:]
Fucking bastard!
[✤PHONE; FILTERED; ◤America.◢]
[He takes a while to calm himself, though he is nowhere near true calmness even after checking and re-checking his body to ensure that he is no longer on fire. Several minutes after trying to force the trembling away from his body, several minutes after he's leaned against the wall and put his hand into a fist and then rid himself of pain that now only exists in his head, he calls America.]
America--...
[There is nothing to say.]
Are y'alright? [No. Of course not. And then his voice drops low, soft, trailing off:] We almost had her.
[The flick of a lighter is heard.] This isn't over.
[ooc; FORWARD DATED TO THE MORNING OF THE 30TH. This is action whoever has a reason to be in his house (Prussia, China, housemates, etc), or wants to visit; voice for everyone else, though I would like to note that he will probably not answer everyone who calls him back. And translation for the Dutch: She couldn't- we almost--]
When he wakes up, he gives a strangled choking sound and half-throws himself out of bed, convinced that he is still on fire, that he is still burning alive, that his skin is peeling open raw and pink and then black and he's burning, burning, burning- he clutches at his arms and head and he can still feel it consuming his very human body-
The phone is knocked off of the bedside table, and so some sounds are broadcast out to the rest of Mayfield: Netherlands catching his breath raggedly, a thud as the table falls over, and sheets rumpling to the floor. Taiwan's drone chatters cheerfully in the background, wondering where her husband has been for the past day, and he ignores her. He gives a smothered sound of anger so great he cannot comprehend it. He's hissing to himself in his own language, a raspy whisper:]
Ze kon het niet- we bijna--
[He jerks his head to the side and sees that the phone is hanging open. The call ends with the phone being slammed back down on the receiver loudly.
The fact that he died has not truly hit him yet.
Only those present in the house can hear his next exclamation:]
Fucking bastard!
[✤PHONE; FILTERED; ◤America.◢]
[He takes a while to calm himself, though he is nowhere near true calmness even after checking and re-checking his body to ensure that he is no longer on fire. Several minutes after trying to force the trembling away from his body, several minutes after he's leaned against the wall and put his hand into a fist and then rid himself of pain that now only exists in his head, he calls America.]
America--...
[There is nothing to say.]
Are y'alright? [No. Of course not. And then his voice drops low, soft, trailing off:] We almost had her.
[The flick of a lighter is heard.] This isn't over.
[ooc; FORWARD DATED TO THE MORNING OF THE 30TH. This is action whoever has a reason to be in his house (Prussia, China, housemates, etc), or wants to visit; voice for everyone else, though I would like to note that he will probably not answer everyone who calls him back. And translation for the Dutch: She couldn't- we almost--]