Arthur Kirkland (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
angleterre) wrote2011-10-31 07:12 pm
angleterre) wrote2011-10-31 07:12 pm
Entry tags:
[ video ↳ english ] oo3 (backdated to the 27th-28th)
[ Thursday. At the outskirts of Discedo. ]
[ The communicator isn't supposed to be on. At least not at first. There's breathy sigh and the viewscreen flicks on to show Arthur looking vaguely like a mummy, face bandaged, one eye swollen shut, the middle of his face wrapped with splints in place, limping through the forest and leaning against a stick while glancing down at his communicator. ]
[ Although he'd been told to sit tight by Rosemary, the second the woman decided to take a little excursion while Arthur was 'resting', he was out of the house and on the run. And by run, of course, it's implied he's limping along. He found a strong stick to lean against while exploring the forest, clumsily trying to utilise his communicator to follow the map programme. ]
[ It's only after fumbling with the device for about fifteen minutes does he notice the little thing is in fact recording, and he considers shutting it off, but some vindictive streak within him flares up and prevents him from terminating communications. ]
So you want a show? Fair enough. You'll have your bloody show.
[ Some more snuffling along. He's quiet for the next ten minutes, and by the sounds he's making, it seems like he's either making real progress in his great escape or the entire fiasco is so taxing on him he may collapse at any moment. ]
Monsters. Tch. Monsters! I told them they had nothing to worry about. America's clearly gone mad, France is a bastard, and the rest of you lot are a bunch of cowards. There's no monsters in this forest. Someone probably went out and found themselves startled by a sodding deer. Honestly, other planets, two moons, monsters, I'm tired of all this bollo-- [ And before he can finish, a ground-shaking roar rips from the throat of some gigantic thing, out of the communicator's line of sight, and though Arthur offers up no frightened glance, he does appear to be quite confused for a moment.Before that thought is completed, England is seen being lifted into the air by some giant, white furry thing, and the communicator drops to the ground with the sound of his screams echoing in the background, a healthy dose of red bathing the video feed before the communication cuts out. ]
~*~
[ Friday. At the Discedo hospital. ]
[ When he wakes, it feels vaguely like his head has been sucked through a black hole, made into a singularity and then exploded again in a big bang only to vaguely resemble the shape his head was in before. Sitting up feels somewhat akin to giving birth, and when he does manage to finally sit up, he finds his communicator is on on the beside table, (clean of blood too!), and a little figurine sitting next to it. ]
Nggg, fuckin' Hell... [ A hand to his head, and he reaches over for the communicator, but pauses, and picks up the doll, bringing it closer to him. When he speaks, it's almost as if he's speaking to the figurine. ] That wasn't my brightest idea. [ He tilts his head to the side. ] And just who put you here...
[ A full minute passes before he reaches over, blindly, and manages to shut off the communicator. ]
[ooc note: so this post is open to both video communicator and action on the 28th, though feel free to post reactions to Arthur's extremely climactic adventure on the 27th, he just won't respond to them seeing as he's being digested that day, and otherwise occupied. ]
[ The communicator isn't supposed to be on. At least not at first. There's breathy sigh and the viewscreen flicks on to show Arthur looking vaguely like a mummy, face bandaged, one eye swollen shut, the middle of his face wrapped with splints in place, limping through the forest and leaning against a stick while glancing down at his communicator. ]
[ Although he'd been told to sit tight by Rosemary, the second the woman decided to take a little excursion while Arthur was 'resting', he was out of the house and on the run. And by run, of course, it's implied he's limping along. He found a strong stick to lean against while exploring the forest, clumsily trying to utilise his communicator to follow the map programme. ]
[ It's only after fumbling with the device for about fifteen minutes does he notice the little thing is in fact recording, and he considers shutting it off, but some vindictive streak within him flares up and prevents him from terminating communications. ]
So you want a show? Fair enough. You'll have your bloody show.
[ Some more snuffling along. He's quiet for the next ten minutes, and by the sounds he's making, it seems like he's either making real progress in his great escape or the entire fiasco is so taxing on him he may collapse at any moment. ]
Monsters. Tch. Monsters! I told them they had nothing to worry about. America's clearly gone mad, France is a bastard, and the rest of you lot are a bunch of cowards. There's no monsters in this forest. Someone probably went out and found themselves startled by a sodding deer. Honestly, other planets, two moons, monsters, I'm tired of all this bollo-- [ And before he can finish, a ground-shaking roar rips from the throat of some gigantic thing, out of the communicator's line of sight, and though Arthur offers up no frightened glance, he does appear to be quite confused for a moment.Before that thought is completed, England is seen being lifted into the air by some giant, white furry thing, and the communicator drops to the ground with the sound of his screams echoing in the background, a healthy dose of red bathing the video feed before the communication cuts out. ]
~*~
[ Friday. At the Discedo hospital. ]
[ When he wakes, it feels vaguely like his head has been sucked through a black hole, made into a singularity and then exploded again in a big bang only to vaguely resemble the shape his head was in before. Sitting up feels somewhat akin to giving birth, and when he does manage to finally sit up, he finds his communicator is on on the beside table, (clean of blood too!), and a little figurine sitting next to it. ]
Nggg, fuckin' Hell... [ A hand to his head, and he reaches over for the communicator, but pauses, and picks up the doll, bringing it closer to him. When he speaks, it's almost as if he's speaking to the figurine. ] That wasn't my brightest idea. [ He tilts his head to the side. ] And just who put you here...
[ A full minute passes before he reaches over, blindly, and manages to shut off the communicator. ]
[ooc note: so this post is open to both video communicator and action on the 28th, though feel free to post reactions to Arthur's extremely climactic adventure on the 27th, he just won't respond to them seeing as he's being digested that day, and otherwise occupied. ]
video;
What's wrong with living next to me?
video;
that goes for both England and mun, obvs]What isn't? You're a slob, you're loud, you can barely take care of yourself, you smell bad, your music taste is decent for your year but you're obnoxious, I don't want to become diabetic by proximity and I do need to find myself to sleep sometime without hearing you shout about Russia or slip inane maps under my door.
Other suggestions, please.
[ He's just saying "I love you" in his own special way, really, he is. ]
video;
Only you would be homeless and still complain about the home being offered to you. Yeesh.
You've lived next to me before, you can do it again! Hell, you lived with me for a little while, and nothing disastrous happened aside from that time we fell in a ditch but that was your fault.
video;
I'll ask around, I suppose. Or perhaps I'll continue to reside on the streets.
video;
[ Giving England a long look. There is a tinge of horror as the question in America's mind shifts from how did he know to where did I come from. It's like one of those disgusting thoughts than you can't stop thinking. Like when a kid first learns what sex is and that their parents had it. Gross. ]
Dude I will pick you up and physically put you somewhere that ain't the streets.
video;
[ A laugh! ]
You'll do nothing of the sort, unless you want your arm broken. I'll find somewhere to live, America, rest assured. Hopefully somewhere to bathe as well, and where I may store food safely without hiding it under an umbrella.
video;
HAH! Can't scare me with that, old man! [ OR CAN HE??? what is wrong with America I don't know anymore. ]
There's nothing wrong with the place next to me, but whatever, man! Just know that when you fail, I'll be there to help!
And by that I mean throw you into a nearby room.
video;
I'm sure there's nothing wrong with it, except for the fact it's next to you. [ A bit more of a smile now. ] That's nice to know.
Though, of course, I won't fail. I never fail. [ He is not arrogant at all. ] Especially not with the threat of living by you looming over my head.
video;
[ If could point out that whole war he lost to America but he's not quite that much of a dick. At the moment. ] Sure, sure, but when you're all alone in the rain and hating life and too prideful to say "ooohhhh America I need your help, please save me!" guess who's gonna be here?
[ DRAMATIC PAUSE!!!!! and finishing in a whisper: ]
That's right. The hero.
video;
[ For a moment, he doesn't say anything. After that moment falls away, he just smiles and shakes his head, glancing away from the communicator, then glancing down. It's clear he's trying to hide his smile, though he's not doing a very good job of it. ]
Well then. I shall inform you when I manage to locate suitable living quarters, but until then, I must politely decline your offer and beg you to take a shower, you smell like the Devil's arsehole, you do. When was the last time you touched water, Alfred?
video;
[ A SMILE IS AFFIRMATION especially when it comes from Arthur the Grouch himself. Despite all the insults, America doesn't stop grinning. ]
I don't smell bad! [ He smells his arm and nods. ] I just smell like dirt and horse. And I had a bottle of water like ten minutes ago!
video;
You are disgusting. I am going to scrub you with acid when I manage to locate some.
So um. [ A glance away for a moment, to which he swallows and flits his eyes back to the communicator. ] Are we allowed to just settle in any unoccupied flat or are there... rules? [ It occurs to him the inanity of asking America about the rules and regulations of said establishment as the boy's natural proclivity to be an oppositional twat might dictate otherwise, but what's done is done... ]
video;
No I'm not! I just don't smell like pansy-ass flowers.
[ how dare you underestimate his abilities england how dare you ] Pretty much! It's more or less a free-for-all. I've still got some... stuff. For you. That you had. But if you don't want it I'll gladly take this mug I made for you and claim it as mine. It will be my hot chocolate mug.