[log] you had the power to know [closed]

[keepscalm]

Characters: England, America, Ginger, and maybe Charles?
Location: Various (buildings 49, 58, and 130)
Date: Days 153-155
Summary: Getting back together just in time for Valentine's Day, picking up tea, and then getting horrifically monstered.
Warnings: Mentions of character death; will edit for anything else

[49: A normal single-story house with a kitchen, living room, bathroom, and master bedroom. There's also a second bedroom that has been converted to a craft room; the crafts that have survived are dusty and mostly useless, being along the lines of scrapbooks and fabric cork boards. There's an old-fashioned but still working pedal-powered sewing machine here. A snowman has been built outside. "ALPHONSE ELRIC, STEPH BROWN, MAMI TOMOE, FREYA CRESCENT, EDWARD ELRIC, DAY TWENTY-EIGHT, TRAVELLING NORTH." has been carved into one of the walls.]

[58: A simple single-story building, the snow weighs uneasily on it, and it creaks and groans under the strain at the best of times. It's very dark, and only the kitchen and living room are intact. The kitchen has a back door. Two snowmen have been built outside. A message has been written on the wall in blue ink: "Don't wreck the snowmen! That's super mean!" "ALPHONSE ELRIC, MAMI TOMOE, FREYA CRESCENT, GREED, EDWARD ELRIC, STEPHANIE BROWN, DAY FORTY ONE, TRAVELLING EAST." has been carved into one of the walls. The following has been written on the wall in blue pen: "This is Building 95 97 on the composite map. Contact @CaptSteveRogers for details." Underneath this is a fairly accurate map showing the house in relation to the school and buildings 29, 35, 35, 37, 40, 41, 47, 48, 50, 53. House 34 is labeled "Medical assistance; hot, clean water. Contact Dr. Epps @claytonator". The school is labeled "School. Food available in cafeteria; DO NOT STAY HERE OVERNIGHT." The shed is labeled "Shed".]

[130: A decently-sized pharmacy. It must have once also had a small section for food, but the shelves are empty now. Sometimes medicine can be found here. Four of the floorboards have been pulled up in a corner of the pharmacy, revealing metal beneath. The following is drawn on the wall in blue ink: "This is Building 111 on the composite map. Medication sometimes available here. Contact @CaptSteveRogers for details." Underneath this is a fairly accurate map showing the pharmacy in relation to the hospital and buildings 58, 125, and 126. The hospital is labeled "Hospital; hospital morgue is UNSAFE, DO NOT STAY THERE OVERNIGHT." Building 58 is labeled "Ice tunnel north entrance." Near 126 he draws an arrow pointed southeast, labeled "This way to downtown area."]

Comments

Nighttime

[keepscalm]

[It's well after lockdown has safely fallen before England even considers entertaining his previous plans. It's not exactly the mood he'd want, but they could all probably use something to take their minds off of the monster outside.

Still, he's tentative as he reaches into his rucksack to retrieve a few things. He shifts to approach each of his companions in turn, addressing them in much the same way:] Might I have a moment?

[lacecase]

You can have more than one, if you'd like!

[Ginger is combating the horrible awful really bad thing that just happened outside by being extra cheerful. I mean, it probably just sounds like how she always is, really, but...she's going to make a very good effort to enjoy Valentine's Day despite everything. She's even been sending out...cute little poems to inboxes...! So she's, of course, happy to indulge England in anything he has to say.]

Time spent with you is time well spent, I think!

[keepscalm]

[Again, England is struck with how terribly sweet Ginger is, and how much he probably does not deserve to have someone like her as a friend. But if he lingers too long on that, he will lose his nerve for this, and that would be a terrible waste of his gift.

A weak chuckle escapes him, affectionate but brittle, in part due to their circumstances.] That's certainly very kind of you.

[He delicately takes a seat next to her, fidgeting with the objects in his hands.] I've got something for you.

why did I never reply to this I'm a sham

[lacecase]

[The surprise is clear on her face. A gift? For her? She doesn't really get gifts that often! Especially not from guys who don't plan on sleeping with her.]

You did? Oh, England, you didn't have to get me anything.

[But that doesn't stop her from looking particularly excited as her gaze falls to what he has in his hands.]

[fifty]

[America perks up a bit as soon as England addresses him. He's still not in the best of moods, but would anyone blame him right now? Still, he smiles.] Course, what's up?

[keepscalm]

[England settles down next to America and clears his throat awkwardly. He's still not entirely acclimated to the intensity of their relationship, rushed by necessity due to their circumstances.

He fiddles with the objects in his hands before eventually holding them out to America, his face bright red and his eyes focused somewhere on the floor. There's a piece of paper folded neatly into thirds and held closed with a smiley face sticker, and then a small drawstring pouch made from galaxy-print fabric and twine. The pouch is pulled shut.] Here. For— you know.

[For Valentine's Day.]

[fifty]

[America takes the pouch and the paper and, unusually for him, doesn't seem to know which to look at first. He runs his thumb fondly over the smiley face sticker.] You didn't have to, y'know. 'Cause we're here. [Norfinbury isn't the best place for Valentine's celebrations.]

[keepscalm]

And it's not exactly a good time, either. [What with the monster outside...

Still, even acknowledging that their circumstances are difficult, England doesn't seem deterred. Embarrassed, but not deterred.] But I wrote it yesterday, so you're getting it anyway.

[fifty]

[That's enough for America to opt for the paper first. He spends a few moments peeling the sticker instead of ripping it; this place needs more smiley faces. Then he begins to read--and, judging by the look on his face, he's reading very carefully.]

[keepscalm]

[Oh, God. England was hoping he would open the pouch first. He feels his nerves catch in his throat, and he watches America's face intently, trying to intuit what he's thinking.

As it turns out, the paper is a piece of the elegant floral stationery England has been saving. Aside from the neat, deliberate creases which kept it closed, it's still in pristine condition. England's handwriting is obvious and neat as ever, and it's clear that for this, he used the ink and fountain pen he found.

It appears to be a short story.]

[fifty]

[America runs his eyes over every pen stroke, taking enough time with it that he probably could have read it at least twice. Eventually, he pulls off his glasses to fuss pointlessly at the arms.] This is--really, really nice, England. No one's ever written me a story before. A really good story.

[keepscalm]

[England's stomach is in knots while he waits for America to finish. By the time he finally indicates that he's through, England is so worked up, he isn't sure if he'll ever untangle himself. He knows he should be relieved at what America says, but he still feels so nervous and so exposed that he stumbles over his returning words.] I thought about writing a poem, but I thought— I thought you'd probably enjoy it more like this.

Obviously I employed a bit of artistic license, but— y-you know.

[fifty]

I love it. [A more subtle person would let the implied second half of that hang to build the mood. Subtle, America is not.] I love you.

[keepscalm]

[England will never figure out how America can say that so easily already. He flushes to his ears and fidgets with his bracelet. He says it quietly, hoping to avoid drawing Ginger's attention too much.] ...love you too.

You like it that much?

[fifty]

Yeah. I mean--you're a really good writer! And it's--y'know. [America pinwheels one of his hands and ducks his head a little, as if suddenly remembering to be embarrassed.] I like the characters.

[keepscalm]

[The characters...

England rubs the back of his neck with some uncertainty.] It's not the way I'd approach a novel, of course, but I was hoping to make it...reminiscent of the stories I used to tell you.

Though I don't know if I can take credit for the characters. [Considering who they were supposed to represent and all.]

[fifty]

[America runs a thumb along the paper.] You wrote it like this for me, and that's--that's really-- [Sweet, but America isn't sure how England would take that and the word feels strange on his own tongue anyway.] It's a really great present, England.

[keepscalm]

[He wonders what America planned to say, if he had anything in mind at all. But he won't press. America seems to like it, that's all that's important.

He aims his gaze at the floor to try and hide the soft smile creeping onto his face.] Thank you. I'm glad you think so.

[fifty]

[America smiles, fussing more at the paper and the package. Ah, the package. He'd almost forgotten.] This is for me, too, right?

[keepscalm]

Yeah. Though I'm afraid it's not going to be as spectacular now that you've looked at the story first.

[Typical America, ruining his carefully-laid plans!!]

[fifty]

[America is already pulling it open as soon as England says "yeah". Presents!]

[keepscalm]

[The pouch really isn't terribly large, but it's big enough to fit its contents. There's a stick of peppermint gum, two spiral peppermint candies, and three less cute-looking mints from a tin, which have been tucked into a little pocket of fabric shaped like a heart. The wrappers of the candies have hearts drawn on them, as well. There are three cigarettes tied together with a, frankly, very silly pink bow.

The sweets are cushioned with floral shapes cut from the scraps of fabric that were too small to use for much else. Candy and flowers!]

[fifty]

[Ah--this is really cute. This is too cute, probably. It's extremely England. America's blushing again, though this time there's far more open enthusiasm. He tugs England into a hug. Hopefully he's ready for sudden physical contact.] Thanks, England!

[keepscalm]

[He was not.

A surprised, embarrassed noise bubbles out of England as he's suddenly wrapped up in America's arms. With some awkwardness, he slowly returns the embrace.] Sorry it's not much. I had to get creative.

[Meaning he had to get creative without using too many of their valuable supplies on something frivolous and self-indulgent.]

[fifty]

You're good at creative! [America approves. England is getting hugged more.]