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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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No one cares-- ( Well, damn. Immediately switching to French because he'd rather not waste his beautiful language on a dog like England. ) No one cares about your bastard language, Angleterre!
( Aaand here comes a fist aimed at the filthy mouth that defiled his pure sister. )
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I'm sorry, what did you say? I simply can't understand a word of that fucking disgusting language coming out of your mouth right now. And you don't get to call me that, Espagne! [ANGLETERRE IS RESERVED FOR HIS ONE TRUE HATE OKAY]
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Anything is better than you're mutt language. ( And then back to French just to piss him off ) Angleterre.
Angleterre, Angleterre, Angleterre!
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Shove off, it's not like you Romantics just created your languages out of thin air! Mine is brilliant and you're just jealous! Fucking frog lover! [reeling back from the headbutt but immediately lunges forward again, snapping his teeth to try and bite any part of Spain he can find]
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He sits up some, straight, at attention, and processing what just happened. Did England just speak Portuguese? Was it actually better if not on the same level as his own proficiency??? What, Portuguese is weird.
Spanish 5ever. )
Jealous of what?! Even German is better! ( Excuse you? ) And how many times have you slept with Francia?!
( Even Spain knows about your relationship, England!!! )
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[He goes deadly still for a long moment, before making a high-pitched sound of pure rage and lunging at Spain, his blows suddenly coming a lot harder than before.] None, you fucking bastard! I'm gonna rip out your tongue and shove it up your fucking arsehole just for saying something so disgusting! [YEAH NO WHAT A BUNCH OF LIES...]
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You don't know anything about me, schwein.
( It isn't perfect; he's obviously out of practice and his word choice might be a little awkward but please, you can't have been in a union with Austria for 200 years and have Prussia for a friend for almost 100 and not learn some German (though, the insults, he learned from Prussia). And suddenly he's punched in the jaw and he bites his tongue mid-laugh.
Ow! Ow??? ENGLAND PLEASE. Scrambling off of him but making sure to try to get a few kicks in as he gets away. In Spanish, )
Should I say it again?! ( And switching to English since it's obviously the more disgusting language here, ) Engla~and li~ikes Fra~ance sooooo much. They're in lo~ove.
( Kissing sounds-- or at least, trying to make them. )
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[and OH HELL NO BLIND OR NOT HE IS NOT ABOUT TO LET SPAIN GET AWAY AFTER SAYING THAT grabbing his leg as he's getting kicked and trying to trip him up!!] Shut up, shut your ugly filthy mouth right now! You're the one in love with him! [yeah too drunk to come up with a witty comeback right now...]
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( And almost France but the Spanish Succession War is basically The War Europe Cockblocked France x Spain. And he asked the Italies to marry him but they said no...
Wait let go of his leg, England! Spain needs those to play football. His legs are basically national treasures at this point. GET YOUR FILTHY PIRATE HANDS OFF HIS GOODS.
Kick, kick, kick. )
Am not! Ay, let go! Let go!
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Not until you take it back! [And then he will begin gnawing on Spain's leg since his hands are occupied.]
1/IDEK
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( are you chewing on his leg )
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END...
GET OFF OF ME YOU CREEPY BASTARD!
( trying so hard to get free )
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Neher! [Never!] Nuh uhirr oo ay I neher ahgged fanshe an I aite his fuggin fashe, oo anker! [Not until you say I never shagged France and I hate his fucking face, you wanker!]
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( PUNCH, PUNCH, oh my god England's becoming a zombie. )
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Say I hate France and I never shagged him! Say it! I'll bite you again if you don't! You'll never be able to play football again once I'm done with you!
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The ultimate decision: Spain's pride or his ability to play football.
They are interlinked. They are one and the same. Playing football is part of his pride and joy. His pride and joy is football. He hasn't done anything wrong. He's spoken the truth. He can't take back the truth! It isn't his to take back! This is something so obvious its practically in history books. But if it's so obvious, is it really worth losing his legs over. Oh, god, he's probably getting scurvy or rabies or something right now as we speak.
Is this checkmate??? Is there any way to win here... )
Bite me.
( A+ choice of words right there, Spain. A+++ )
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Then maybe ( punch ) you shouldn't have ( punch ) slept with Francia ( punch ) in the first place!
( Punch )
Or the second! ( Punch, punch ) Or the third! ( Punch, punch, punch ) It's okay though! You deserve each other!
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