[log] I'll bury you good and straight and right [closed]

[fifty]

Characters: America, England, Sealand
Location Building 86, maybe some other places later, we'll see
Date: duration of the event, starting at evening/night 80
Summary: It's time to deal with awful familiar monsters. A catch-all for the nation group during the event.
Warnings: just the standard event warnings of horror and general upset

Comments

[fifty]

I can't--remember...? [This isn't really an answer to England's question, but he can only sort of focus on that. He keeps trying to grab the memory in his mind, but he feels like he might as well try to remember something that happened before he was born for all the good it's doing. He can't even really figure out what he's supposed to be grabbing at, metaphorically.]

[keepscalm]

[That is not typically how one answers a question about their well-being. England's concern just increases, though this mostly manifests in a more insistent tone to his questioning.] What do you mean you can't remember?

[fifty]

I just ran that file and I was thinking about Canada, and then...? I can't remember. [America is starting to sound alarmed, finally, instead of just confused.] I should be able to.

[keepscalm]

You opened it? You could have given me some warning! [Don't run suspicious applications without warning your friends! That has to be in the top ten Norfinbury survival rules.] How can you not— what are you trying to remember?

[fifty]

I don't know. [It's an odd, blank spot in his mind. A hole, except less noticeable. If he wasn't trying to think about it, he doesn't think he'd even be aware of it.] It's gone.

[keepscalm]

How can you know it's gone if you can't remember it? [Maybe a little too on the nose there, England.

Finally, something seems to click into place in the gears of his brain.] You said you were thinking about Canada?

[fifty]

Yeah. It just--there was something in my head. There was something in my head. [America looks about a second away from some sort of breakdown.]

[keepscalm]

[Oh, God. England is too tired for this. The rain still pounding in his ears doesn't help.]

All right, all right, just— ["Calm down?" No, England wouldn't be very calm, either, if he were in this situation. He leaves his tablet in his lap and awkwardly lifts his hands towards America, but they just hover uncertainly in mid-air.] That creature following you looked like Canada, it probably had something to do with...

[...oh. The look of realisation is clear on England's face as he looks down at America's tablet.]

[fifty]

With what? [America might as well have forgotten about the reason he downloaded the program to begin with, for all he can focus on anything else except what just happened right now.]

[keepscalm]

The monster. It was probably the application. [He sounds annoyed as he says this. England immediately reaches for America's tablet, hoping to find some explanation or evidence of the app still running.]

[fifty]

Oh. [Right, he remembers that part now at least. He abandons his tablet, which doesn't show any sign of the app running now, to get out of the bed.] Do you think it's really gone?

[keepscalm]

[England pokes around a little, but he doesn't see anything like a helpful pop-up that explains what happened.] It had better be, if this ruddy thing really did something to your memories.

[fifty]

[America heads to the nearest window. He has to see if at least that thing went away. Of course, he's greeted with France's face, so maybe looking out the window wasn't the best option. He startles visibly, but manages--for once--to hold his ground, trying to see around it.]

[keepscalm]

[When he's done inspecting America's tablet, England sets it back down on the bed and moves to follow him to the window, anticipating that it's not going to go well. He stumbles a little when he first slides out of bed, his dizziness causing him to lurch forward, but he catches himself quickly enough and then hurries over to the window America is at.

France looks even worse with a soundtrack of rain and horrible disorientation, and England puts a hand on America's shoulder and pretends it's more for America's benefit than his own.] Do you see it?

[fifty]

No. [America's voice is still tremulous, given the myriad of reasons to be nervous about the situation. If the Canada monster was here, it'd be competing for space at the window, right?] I think it's gone.

[keepscalm]

Well, that's one less thing to worry about, then. [England doesn't see it, either, but it's a little hard to look past the France creature, both literally and metaphorically.

He gives America another moment to process this development, but then he tugs on the other nation's shoulder a bit.] Come on. No sense in standing at the window.

[Especially when they've still got a few other nasties to worry about.]

[fifty]

Oh. Yeah, sorry. [America abandons his post at the window, heading back to the bed. He's just now remembering he's cold, but even that is only a vague distraction to his missing memory, so he's a little distracted. Distracted enough to nearly trip over the bed, in fact.]

[keepscalm]

[England doesn't head right back to bed; he can't shake the need to check out in the hallway beyond the bedroom, so he opens the door and pokes his head out. Despite the way his vision swims again, he can tell there's nothing creeping in the darkness. The only monsters are the ones outside.

The sound of America stumbling gets his attention before he's fully satisfied with his inspection, and he withdraws into the bedroom to turn back and look at him.] You all right over there?

[Said with a certain intonation that might imply America is a bit foolish for his fumble.]

[fifty]

Y-yes! [He whisper-yells more than he actually yells, attempting to pick himself up off of where he fell face-first into the bed in the most dignified manner possible.] Totally cool. What're you doing?

[keepscalm]

[Despite himself, England's eyes are drawn to where the monster with France's face claws at the window when America inquires as to his intentions.]

...just having another look. [He is not paranoid or anything. Regardless, he gives the hallway one last lingering glance before closing the bedroom door again and padding back over to the bed, careful not to move too quickly as he crawls back in.]

[fifty]

[America shifts to accommodate England's return to bed. It's sort of weird how normal that's gotten, but he immediately stops thinking along those lines before it does get weird. Of course, that only leaves what just happened to think about.]

I guess you're not running that app, huh?

[keepscalm]

[Once he's settled, England plucks his tablet out of the covers and pointedly reaches over to return it to the end table.] Absolutely not. I prefer my memories as they are.

[All the more reason not to trust Winter, as well. He's not sure if that side-effect was intentional, but either way, it's rather disingenuous not to inform them beforehand that the application could have such negative results.]

[fifty]

Yeah, I figured. [He knows England, even if knowing England here means knowing how he'd react to having a weird computer program cut out a memory. Not that America is happy about it, of course. To the contrary, he's still got his glasses on, and he's staring pointlessly up at the ceiling in the dark.]

[keepscalm]

[Though England certainly has a particular England quality about him that affects this decision, for a nation, he's probably not unique in this respect. They value history deeply, particularly their own.

He's ruminating on this even before he realises that America is too still beside him. He turns his head on the pillow to see that America's still wearing his glasses, as if he's not planning on sleeping any time soon. Of course, there are consequences to just barrelling ahead with no forethought, so England shouldn't feel too bad for him!

But he does. A memory of a friend is a terrible thing to lose, especially for people like them.

A frown pulls at the corners of England's lips as he feels a twinge in his chest. Bloody hell.]

...are you...you know. All right? [This is the third time tonight that England has asked that question, but now it's awkward, tentative, and obviously much more sincere for his stumbling.]

[fifty]

Yeah, I'm-- [...He doesn't want to lie. But he doesn't want to make it seem like a big deal, because then he'll think about it more. But it is a big deal! He starts fussing with his glasses.] I'll be okay. I've got tons of memories.