[log] my world was too unstable [closed]

[keepscalm]

Characters: England and America
Location E6, building 35
Date: Day 019, throughout
Summary: At least neither of them turned on the Beacon.
Warnings: Probably just swearing.

[England has had a headache for hours now. No amount of water, deep breathing, or distraction will make it go away. He tried to sleep for a few brief moments, but he couldn't rest any more knowing that those things were out there. He was lucky to get any sleep at all the previous night.

He's scrolling aimlessly through the posts on the network when an urge strikes him. Something prods at the back of his mind, distantly cries out for him to hide.

England isn't a coward and he's been listening for anyone (anything) trying to come in or out of the house, though the entrances have been barricaded with the furniture available to them. He dutifully ignores the hiding idea and continues to prod at his tablet. Eventually, because he needs a distraction, he addresses America from the living room.]

Perhaps we should consider returning to the school once we're more certain of the conditions outside? We might still be confined to this house for a few days. [Who knows how long this will keep up? They might need food again by that point.]

Comments

[fifty]

[America keeps looking out the windows in the kitchen, squinting uneasily at the snow and silence. The brightness of the sun and snow, even through heavy cloud cover, aren't helping his headache any, but he feels like he should at least keep an eye out for any approaching... Things. Whatever they were. They're not here now, but that doesn't mean they won't be here soon.]

Yeah, I wanted to look around. [And he'll never turn down more food. America shifts from his position on top of a counter, shoes squeaking a little. This is definitely unhygienic, but it's not like there's anyone living here to care.] We basically just ran through the cafeteria.

[keepscalm]

[America is probably lucky that England is in the living room and isn't watching him climb all over the counters. Even if no one lives here any more, England doesn't exactly want to make everything filthy. They have their own hygiene to worry about.]

I imagine there would be quite a few things of interest in a school. We might be able to learn more about this place, if they taught local history.

[England opens up the administrator message to scare accusingly at it again.] Though I've read that it gets a bit eerie.

[fifty]

So does everything else here. [America immediately thinks of the park. Sick of staring out at the snow, he hops down off of the counter and stretches, drinking more water like that would do something about a headache that clearly has nothing to do with how hydrated he is.] Maybe there'll be a flag in the school.

[Do other countries put a flag in every classroom? Whatever.]

[keepscalm]

Most countries don't fly their flag in such excess as you, you know. [Most European countries, anyway. England should not speak for the rest of the world but who cares about them.

An alternate response would have been "only if we're in your country," but England opted not to introduce such a gruesome possibility into America's mind. He has some tact, and they've got enough to worry about without that possibility.

He feels that insistence again, that he should take shelter somewhere small and dark.]

[fifty]

Really? That's weird. [America is kind of distracted, though, since he's poking through the cupboards again. They've already searched the house, of course, but there's always the chance they missed something. Like food. America hates not being entirely sure of when they'll be able to stock up again. Anyway, the cupboards are dark and that's a lot better than all the light pounding against his eyes.]

[keepscalm]

[England scoffs.] You're the one who's weird about it.

[He hears the sounds of America fiddling with the cupboards, and after a moment, stands up from where he was sitting in the living room to investigate. They already had a proper look at the place, but for some reason the idea of looking through the cupboards comforts him.

He sets his tablet down on the counter (thankfully away from the portion that America was crouching on) and starts looking over the kitchen again. He resists the urge to assist America in opening up the cabinets and cupboards.]

[fifty]

No way, it makes sense. How else would kids say the pledge? [America's voice is muffled as he climbs right into the cupboards, since that's the best way to check way in the back. It's sort of a squeeze, but not as much as he thought it might be.]

[keepscalm]

They don't. I'm fairly certain you're one of the only countries in the world that does that. [It's a bit creepy, actually.

England turns his head after he responds, wondering about the thudding and the gradual muffling of America's voice, and then raises an eyebrow in disbelief.] What are you doing?

[fifty]

Looking in the back. [All the way in the back. Actually, it's kind of nice in here.]

[keepscalm]

And you...need to climb all the way in to do that?

[England tries to make it sound like an entirely stupid idea when he says it out loud, so he's less tempted to do the thing, himself.]

[fifty]

Well yeah, it's super dark in here. [Does England expect him to be able to see in pitch blackness? Admittedly it's probably a problem that could be partially solved by opening more cupboard doors, but this solution works really well in America's opinion. And America's opinion is the most important opinion.]

[keepscalm]

Use your tablet to have a look around, then. [It's not as effective as a flashlight, but God only knows if they'll ever find one of those.

He frowns at what he can see of America and walks over so he can prod at America's leg with the toe of his shoe.] Are you going to check all of them this way?

[fifty]

[At the prodding, America climbs even deeper into the cupboards so his shoe slides away and into the darkness.]

I think I can climb through the whole set this way. [So yes.]

[keepscalm]

You're going to hit your head on something. [Like a pipe, or the underside of the counter, or on his own stupidity.]

finally gets around to renewing america's paid account

[fifty]

Nah, it opens up in the back. [Not enough to stand up or anything, but enough that he can stop crawling almost on his belly and sit up. He's at the corner now, so he pulls his legs in behind him for proper sitting. Looks like the cupboard really is empty.]

the beginning of a new era

[keepscalm]

[England is silent for a moment after America speaks, listening for any telling thuds. When there's not even any indication of movement, he crouches down to peer in through the open cupboard, though he can't really see America too well.]

I'm not certain how you plan to search them all if you're going to just sit there.

[fifty]

[It's easier for America to tell where England is, silhouetted as England is in the light from the kitchen. The features are a bit more difficult to distinguish, but he can imagine them.]

This is the back corner. [He's done searching.]

[keepscalm]

You- you're such an idiot. [He will never understand America. Or so he claims.

He really wants to crawl into the cupboards.]

Come on out, then.

[fifty]

[He could. He probably should. But he really doesn't want to.] It's sort of like a secret clubhouse!

[keepscalm]

A...secret clubhouse.

[England's disbelief and condescension is palpable.]

[fifty]

Yeah, no Englands allowed. [So there! America crawls forward just enough that he can stretch and close the open cupboard door before sliding back again. Much better.]

[keepscalm]

You—!

[Well, that won't do! Even if England hadn't previously felt the urge — now verging on a compulsion — to squeeze into the cupboards, he certainly does now. He won't accept such blatant disrespect.

He chooses a cupboard at the opposite end of the system and opens it. For a moment, he wonders, what the hell am I doing? But it's only for a moment before he gets down on his knees and crawls into the tiny space.

He immediately feels more at ease, the strange need to hide somewhere small and dark soothed by his choice of action. He closes the door behind him and scoffs.] Looks like I've broken your only rule. What a shame.

[fifty]

Now you ruined that side. [But only that side. His side is definitely the superior one, since it has the corner that America can and has tucked himself into. It's dark and enclosed and he likes it, even though he hasn't felt the urge to do this sort of thing since he was very small--really, he's never been especially fond of the dark. But right now it's nice.]

[keepscalm]

Watch it. I'll come over there and ruin your side, as well.

[It's sort of tempting, but not only to get on America's nerves. The small corner appeals to some part of England that just wants to make himself as small as possible in this little, dark tunnel.]

[fifty]

My side's impossible to ruin 'cause it's the best. [He pulls his knees in up to his chin and then decides he's about as settled as he can get. Maybe he'll stay in here overnight, too.]

[keepscalm]

[Nope, England is coming over there to ruin it.]

We'll see about that.

[He rearranges the squished fold of his limbs so that he can start crawling over to America's side. He tries to be stealthy, but an old house in a frozen wasteland wasn't really designed to accommodate stealth. Especially in an area not intended to be occupied by people.]

[fifty]

Come on, you have your own side! [They can't both be in the corner! America was there first!]

[keepscalm]

I think I prefer yours. [And we all know what England does with territory he wants.

He doesn't stop crawling, either, scooting along until he's coming up on America's corner.]

[fifty]

[America puffs up in spite of the darkness, but as England actually starts filling up space, it occurs to him it's even more enclosed with England there, so he settles a little.] Fine, you can take that half.

[keepscalm]

Well, you're unfortunately occupying the other half, so it will have to do. [But England doesn't actually mind that America is taking up space. It just makes it all smaller and cosier.

He shifts once he's in the corner proper; he's still rational enough to avoid touching America, for the most part. There's no reason to do it now and he doesn't want America to think his intentions are strange.

There is some inevitable brushing as he tucks himself into a sitting position, but that's all. He hums in consideration.] Yes, I think this will do.

[fifty]

Fine. [America goes quiet--unusual for him, but he doesn't really think there's any point in saying anything else at the moment. This is actually really comfortable.]

[keepscalm]

[England falls quiet, as well. He tries to steady his own breathing by listening to America's; not like he has much else to listen to. But it's calming, somehow.

As the silence stretches on, he finds himself inching, or perhaps leaning, until their sides are touching. He doesn't do it consciously. He's just drawn to the soothing sound of breathing and the promise of security and enclosure in the dark little cupboard corner.]

[fifty]

[America is more content with staying quiet than he thinks he probably should be, but he stays that way for a surprisingly long amount of time before something relatively normal bubbles to the surface.]

Isn't this sort of weird?

[keepscalm]

[England is already thinking it before America says it, but he's worried about drawing attention to how strange it is because he doesn't want to disturb the tentative peace they have.

When America speaks, he fidgets slightly, pinching the fabric of his trousers at his knee.] A tad. We don't really need to stay in here.

[fifty]

Yeah, I guess not. [But America doesn't make any movements toward leaving or even really sound like he wants to, since he doesn't at all.] I can't even really see in here.

[keepscalm]

Disappointingly, I haven't developed night vision since crawling into this cupboard. [He can't just say that he can't see anything, either.] We could use our tablets, but I left mine on the counter.

[But he doesn't feel a great need to go get it, so he stays where he is. It's comfier in here.]

[fifty]

I think mine's out with my backpack. [America parting from technology for any length of time when he can avoid it is practically unheard of. Actually, all their stuff it just sitting out in the open out in the kitchen, he thinks, but America isn't moving.]

[keepscalm]

I'm shocked that you haven't grafted it to your person. [Something is really weird for America not to be on his tablet right now, is the point.

They probably don't have to worry about their stuff, though. The doors are barricaded.]

[fifty]

It'd be kind of bright if I brought it in here and turned it on. [Which isn't something he wants right now, for some reason.]

[keepscalm]

...a bit. It would probably be a strain on the eyes, as well. [This is England's rationalisation for why brightness seems so unappealing to him right now.]

[fifty]

So it's fine out there. [They're in agreement. Maybe that's another weird bit.]

[keepscalm]

[England gives America a discerning look for a moment, not that he can actually see America in the darkness of the cupboard. It's more that he looks in the direction of America's voice.

After a moment of quiet consideration, he speaks again.] No, this is still odd. You don't normally give a toss about any of that. I've seen you looking through it in the middle of the night.

[fifty]

Yeah... [He hesitates a little before he comes up with some sort of rationalization.] But it's fine in here the way it is right now. [It doesn't make a lot of sense, mind.]

[keepscalm]

[Something about this still rings strangely to England.] ...while I don't disagree... [That especially is weird. Agreeing with America?

He frowns and shifts a little bit. It really is nice in here.] I don't think— it's just...

[He lets his head rest back against the inner wall of the cupboard while he turns this over in his brain. It takes longer than it should, given his affected disposition at the moment, but finally he arrives at the real question.] Why are we staying in here?

[fifty]

It's nice in here. [That's the automatic answer, but America does realize it's not exactly a place he hangs out normally.] 'Cause--'cause it's dark.