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

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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?]

[lotuslife]

What are you talking about?

[she takes a step forward, stalking, closing in.]

It's just blood. [she begins circling Hungary now.]

[muskatli]

[She knows this street. Houses, all around, and fences and lawns but fences and some cars--

The fences are not a good defense, but the cars means garages and if she can just get inside somehow...]

Don't do this, please. I can get someone to help you. [Hungary's beyond reasoning now and has just moved to distracting. The pan is getting heavier in her hand, and her shoulder starts to hurt. So she flings that with all her strength at Vietnam's face, hoping for a concussion at best or worse before racing toward the nearest car.]

[lotuslife]

[Her hand darts up, lightning quick, and is suddenly something hideous; it's deformed-looking, large and gnarled with long, lethal-looking claws. She catches the frying pan, and in a second the claws pierce right through it as if the metal were nothing more than butter. She reaches up and has to yank the frying pan free from her claws, giving a vaguely annoyed 'tch' sound. She jerks the mangled pan free and tosses it to the ground, looking up again.]

Chị Hungary! I hope this wasn't your favorite one. You can't use it any more... Aah, where did you run off to?

[muskatli]

[One doesn't need much of an imagination to figure out what the sound is, and Hungary's always been cursed by an overactive imagination, one that is devising a plan to get out of the street as soon as possible. She's dropped the knife somewhere between the middle of the street and the car she's crouching behind.

Using the car's side mirror to check Vietnam's movement and unnatural form, she extracts her gun--Prussia's Christmas gift--from her apron, sitting as still as possible.]

[lotuslife]

[She walks around a bit, pausing to listen keenly, searching around for Hungary.] You can't have gotten very far... Where did you go, now?

[muskatli]

[Hungary doesn't answer, but sits and calculates how long and fast she can run in her condition. She's unharmed, and nothing hinders her movement for the time being. Hiding behind the car won't save her for long, either.

One long minute drags another, and just as she hears Vietnam's steps come closer, she shoots, first at her calves, before standing up to follow the bullets with another one to Vietnam's left shoulder.

Then Hungary runs.]

[lotuslife]

[Almost all of the shots land, and there's blood, a lot of it, followed by a choked sound from Vietnam, but then the sound turns into a laugh as her flesh bubbles up and swallows up the wounds, healing over instantly. She needs just a moment to regain her balance before taking off again after her, now that she's in sight.]

How dirty of you, hiding like that!

[She reaches out to grab at the back of Hungary's head this time- not just her hair. She'll sink her fingers into her skull if she has to.]

[muskatli]

[She doesn't resist this time, her body still and her shoulders stiffening as Vietnam is dangerously close, and now that she knows what these claws are capable of.]

You have an unfair advantage on me. It's only reasonable [Hungary managed to growl out between gritted teeth.]

[lotuslife]

[Her non-transformed hand winds and twists what's left of Hungary's long hair around her palm and jerks her back- oh, wait, wait, she must be careful, gentle, she mustn't snap her neck quite yet. She pulls just hard enough to cause Hungary to crash backwards into her, and her other arm comes up around the woman as if to catch and embrace her from behind. She leans in close, lips brushing against the shell of her ear.]

I know, but if you hold still, I'll make sure you can die with dignity.

[muskatli]

[A part of her wants to cry. The overpowering part of her is livid, at Vietnam, at herself, and at Mayfield, most of all. She feels Vietnam's claw tipped arm holding her in place, but that leaves one of Hungary's arm somewhat flexible.]

I'm sorry. That's not good enough.

[She slips that arm, her hand gripping her gun firmly, in the small space between them, pulling the trigger once the barrel is directly against Vietnam's stomach.]

[lotuslife]

[She locks her arm tight around Hungary's neck so that when she's shot, she brings the other nation crashing down with her, on top of her. Her back arches up from the asphalt and she gives a choked sound, blood bubbling up around her lips as the wound has a second or two to take effect before it heals. She gives an annoyed sound, tightening her grip on Hungary and flipping their positions so that she's on top. She looks down at the other nation, pinning her to the ground by the throat, one claw settled delicately on each side of her neck, barely escaping piercing her.]

Then you can die without dignity. I don't care.

[muskatli]

[She has counted on the recoil at such close proximity to be enough to release her from Vietnam's arms. She has counted wrong. Hungary can feel the blood dripping on her cheeks, but it's the least of her concern when her throat starts burning once more.]

Dying without a fight is the only undignified death[She spits out with some difficulty, with the pressure on her vocal chords.]

[lotuslife]

So fight. [Her voice is mocking as she gently tilts Hungary's head from side to side.] Shoot me again. Throw me off. Do something!

[muskatli]

[The taunt is all it takes to intensify the growl. She can feel herself become dazed and disoriented at the lack of air, but she knows two bullets remain. Whipping her had away from the claws, a thin scratch appearing on her cheek, she kicks Vietnam in the guts instead of shooting, attached as she is to Hungary's throat.]

[lotuslife]

[She takes the kick, but it doesn't look like it hurts; it just winds her a little, and she rolls off of the other woman. She brings her arm back and flings it forward, grabbing for the gun-]