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graveyard part five
 You wake up in an unfamiliar cabin. At first, it almost seems like you're in an entirely different place and that everything had been just a dream. The interior of the cabin looks nothing like the run-down, old-timey shacks that you had been living in before. Everything in here is sleek and modern, from the enormous flat-screen TV mounted on the wall to the fridge and mini-bars stocked with all your favorite foods. There aren't any individual rooms in here, just a common area large enough to house everyone comfortably, no matter how many more people join you...and there will be plenty more people joining you before the week is over. Because if you look outside the window, it quickly becomes clear that not only are you still in Prayer's Pass, but that you are no longer among the realm of the living. Judging from the tombstones directly outside, you're now in what had been the abandoned broken-down cabin in the graveyard. The cabin's not all that changed; the world outside has gone completely grey and everything you see appears to be faded and blurry. The only things that remain sharp and in color are what's inside the cabin, including your fellow ghosts. Occasionally, people who are still alive may enter, but it's clear that what they're seeing is completely different from what you're seeing. The door's unlocked; however, a mysterious force prevents you from stepping beyond the threshold, no matter how hard you may try. After all, this cabin is a cage for the dead - a gilded one, perhaps, but a cage nonetheless. On the flat-screen TV plays everything that is currently happening in the town. It will shut off once night starts...and something else will appear instead. |
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for all of his flippancy, this is actually a reaction that alarms him just a little.] You knew that it would be this way from the start, yes?
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This isn't the first time I've been on the wrong side.
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Well, it won't be the last.
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It never is.
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Don't sound like that, then.
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Hm? ( Head tilt. Like what??? Oh, no, wait, he thinks he gets it and he'll lean down to scoop Charles up high into the air and laugh, ) You're a good boy, Charles.
... Even if some of the others don't seem to like you.
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...really, it's been so, so long since anyone has done anything like this for him. for all of the times people have called him a child, for the moments when his deceitful face has saved or caused him hassle - this genuine, heartfelt sort of treatment has him looking lost. he fumbles for Spain's sleeves, less fearful of the height he's at and more fearful of the sudden thought that Spain will forget. he doesn't at all believe this is the end, especially when not even Critter knows where they go, but what is it all for?
why does everyone else get the pleasure of thinking it's all so temporary, so easy as life and death, when he has to suffer losses no matter what the outcome is?]
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They shouldn't. I'm a miserable creature, you know? The unusual one here is you, and that's something you oughtn't forget.
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He'll slowly set Charles down, but he won't get up, instead, choosing to stay at the same height. He doesn't really understand what's going on but he'll stare at Charles for a moment, trying to figure it out. Finding nothing, he'll just give a cheesy sort of smile, )
It's their loss. ( And ruffling Charles' hair again, a little longer than he normally would. He has to make sure he gets it reaaaal messy this time. ) Ay, there's nothing unusual or strange about me.
It's just a cultural difference, you know?
( Obviously! Besides, the real mysterious is one here is Mister I-know-You-I-Walked-With-You-Once-Upon-A-Mayfield-Dream-But-Never-Said-A-Word.
Anyways, have a nice, serious moment of silence in which Spain just grins at Charles proudly and )
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You're so cute...!
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CULTURAL DIFFERENCE. a scoff.] You're a strange one, you know? You are, truly. [and this is coming from captain "I know secrets about half of the people here even though they don't remember me."
the look of pride is one that throws him off further, almost makes him uncomfortable. he opens his mouth to tell Spain to quit it and—]
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Would you stop it with that already?! [...but he doesn't push away. actually, he whacks Spain once with all the force his dumb human body can muster and then buries his face. just a second; if he can have just a second of comfort, he won't complain so loudly the next time this happens.]
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He'll just laugh at Charles' retorts and choose to ignore them in favor of more cuddling. That hit actually kind of hurt!! But you know, they save love hurts so he doesn't mind. Once everything is settled down, his hold on Charles will linger and he'll rest his chin on Charles' head for that second.
This was it for their side. It would be up to the hunters to work with the survivors to finish the game. The hunters knew more than them, right? They should be able to find a way to save everyone, especially if they work together, right? No offense, Charles, but as bad as Spain felt about breaking that first promise, he'd rather not get a chance to repeat that scenario.
And lowering his voice to whisper in French, so only Charles can hear, )
I'm glad to have met you. ( A pause, ) Again, I think.
( And pulling Charles close to give ooooone biiiig forehead kiss before setting him free. )
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he's silent for the few seconds that Spain is still; even his breathing is quiet. he wonders briefly what might be running through his silly head. nations, for all he says of them, are elusive in the end and he can never seem to truly understand a single one. if he's surprised by the sudden French it doesn't show, but his head does cant downward faintly. unfair — absolutely unfair for both he and Ciel to know exactly what to say.]
Don't say such pointless things. You're going to embarrass yourself, you know? [OR HIM. he's grounded a little by Spain's gross goobers on his forehead and he leans back with some feigned, well practiced indignation.] ...Really. What a miserable man you are.
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Indignation meet an equally practiced grin. All of Charles' insults will continue to bounce off this radiant face. )
I prefer to think of myself as a man of passion. ( Tossing his head back in whatever direction England is, ) That's misery.
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either way, he glances back when Spain gestures and almost, almost laughs.] You're all miserable, the entire lot of you nations. He's among the top, though. [a pause; he takes a step back but his hands are still just barely patting at his shoulders.]
We didn't get along perfectly the last time, but I'm— [ohhh no he kind of casts a furtive glance around to make sure no one (except Ciel since he knows he can never rid himself of Ciel) is listening in.] ...I don't regret it. Being able to get to know you a little better here.
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Charles what are you looking for... He'll look around too and then back once he begins to speak. )
Ah, but you've seen me at my worst here. ( And he sounds a little disappointed because image means a lot to him! And he'd rather not be remembered by a killing game. Instead, choose to remember him as the best football player in the world. ) You'll have to let me do better.
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I believe that's the best way to get to know others, actually. [the disappointment seems to fly right over his head for all the care he gives it. this is more important okay!!] People are at their truest when they're struggling the most. I don't regret these circumstances.
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There is more to people than their trials. I'll show you!
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There isn't any point in knowing people when they're at their best, you know? That's easy. [this is more difficult. he reaches out and flicks Spain's forehead.] ...If you show me, you had best truly make it worth my time.