snowblindrpg | [log] 'cause I'm half sick of shadows [closed]

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[log] 'cause I'm half sick of shadows [closed]

Characters: England, America, and Sealand
Location N7, building 100
Date: Days 36-38; basically throughout the event
Summary: Andromeda pays the nations a visit. A very involved visit. And then America gets very sick.
Warnings: Definitely vomiting and other gross sick stuff. Possession? Weird mental stuff? Weird nation stuff?

[England awakens groggily at six in the morning, as he has nearly every day for centuries, save for the days when he's very hungover. He's vaguely aware of the warmth of Sealand and America on the bed beside him; despite himself, he feels a pang of reluctance to get up and start the day, but he knows this fanciful little moment of peace can't last forever. They're never going to get out of here if they spend every day lazing around.

He shifts his sore joints, stretches his wrists and curls his toes in his ridiculous slippers. Even with their considerable stock of soft warm things, there's no fighting the constant chill in his digits. Slowly, England sits up from the bed, trying not to disturb his two housemates. He'll have to wake them soon if they want to make good time today, but there's no harm in letting them sleep while England gets ready.

He lets out a sigh through his nose as he slides off the bed, his slippers muffling his footsteps as he shuffles over to the door of the bedroom. He opens it as quietly as possible—

But it's not to be.

There's a shadowy...thing standing right in front of him, a person, or at least it seems to be. Panic seizes him immediately and he lurches to shut the door, but the thing starts screaming, an unholy shriek that will surely wake Sealand and America no matter how deeply they usually sleep.

And it jumps at him before he can get the door properly closed, too fast for England to even comprehend, and then—

He's on the floor, unbalanced by his flight response and the force of the shadow moving into him. He remains there for a moment, sprawled by the door and, apparently, unconscious.]

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[Sealand's eyes snap open very suddenly, and it takes him only a second to work out what woke him up. There's a horrible screaming filling the whole room. He jumps up, ready to throw himself somewhere, at someone, whatever will stop the screaming and keep him safe. The screaming has stopped before he's had any chance to move anywhere or do much of anything, but not before he sees - something - like a shadow, move into his brother. Then England collapses.]

Eng- England...? England!

[He isn't moving. Something gnaws painfully at Sealand's stomach. Is he breathing? What if he isn't breathing?]

America, he's - [Sealand scrambles off the bed, terrified.] Wha... J-Jerk, wake up!

[America is half out of the bed before he has any idea what's actually happened. The gears in his brain all grind together unpleasantly as he tries to wake up and defend against whatever is making that noise at the same time. It's a shadow, or something--he doesn't even have time to be afraid of it before England is on the floor.]

England--wait! [That call to wait is aimed disjointedly at Sealand, because what if there are more, England would get so mad if America let Sealand get attacked by a shadow thing, and America would feel awful on top of that. But England is just lying there. America isn't sure if Sealand will actually wait, but he can hopefully get to England first, in case anything else attacks.]

England? Hey! [He's dead. No, that's dumb. America knows how to check a pulse--he moves to do that while looking up out at the empty hallway. There's nothing there, at least. He hopes.]

[Thankfully, England is breathing, and his pulse still thrums merrily away beneath his wrist. However, he doesn't stir immediately. For a few long moments, he simply remains unconscious beneath the watchful eyes of the others.

It's a very sudden movement when his eyes finally open — and there's something not quite right with them. In the poor morning light, it's unmistakable. They're glowing; not simply refracting light, but emitting it, a soft green tinge that illuminates the contours of his brow and cheekbones. His irises are of an even brighter hue, as well, a more impossibly saturated green than normal.

He regards America and Sealand with a curious tilt of his head. Looking around, everything suddenly seems familiar in a much more intimate way than before. It almost feels as if his body isn't his own, like he's just a visitor to his own vessel, and when he finally speaks—]

Why are you in my room?

[Sealand half waits. He hovers for a few seconds until America heads over to England's side before quickly following. There's a tense few moments while England lies there and Sealand watches, asking America if there's a pulse, shouting his brother's name and generally trying not to freak out enough to start crying.

Then a wave of relief, followed by annoyance, quickly comes when England finally opens his eyes. The relief doesn't last long though, because he soon realises that something is really weird and really wrong.]

Wha...? You jerk, quit - quit making stupid jokes! You fainted!

[America is about to answer Sealand when England opens his eyes and the glowing alarms America all over again. England doesn't lunge at either of them, though, so while America is tense he can keep himself still, more or less.]

This isn't your place. [He can't help but hope England is just disoriented from whatever happened, even though England's eyes make it obvious this is a way more complicated problem. Not that America knows what the problem is, specifically.]

You must be mistaken. [Granted, it's not uncommon for England to tell someone that they're wrong. What is strange is the utter lack of condescension, the patience and calmness that blankets the statement.

England sits up in a single, measured motion, not showing any signs of having been bothered by the fall. He continues speaking in his oddly patient way, hoping that they'll understand.] This is my house, and my bedroom. Are you two lost?

[This isn't just unfunny now, it's weird. Really weird. Why does England think he can be all calm and patient at a time like this?!] No! You jerk, what are you talking about?!

[A little panicked, he turns to America.] He's gone crazy or something.

[Yeah, he definitely sounds crazy. Also, England has lost his accent--or gained an American one, he guesses--and that would make everything sound weird even if England wasn't saying all this weird stuff.]

Uh. [He looks between England and Sealand.] Maybe... It's because he hit his head? [America isn't actually sure if England hit his head, but he fell over, so it's definitely possible.] Maybe--maybe you should lie down. It's super early anyway, I don't think we can even leave yet.

He? [England seems to exhibit some confusion at the way they're referring to him. And, yes, it's much more obvious now that his accent is distinctly American.

He looks towards Sealand with some concern.] Please, there's no need to be upset. I'm not hurt.

But I don't plan to leave. This is my house, after all.

You did! [Don't disagree! This little boy is very panicked right now.] You hit your head. Even your voice is wrong.

And this isn't your house! You're England, remember? You live in boring, rainy England!

[America hesitates, uncertain. It's not like Sealand is wrong, but what if England gets agitated and freaks out or something?] Do you remember the whole screaming shadow attacking you thing?

Screaming...shadow? No, I don't remember anything like that.

[England looks up toward Sealand, his eyebrows drawn down slightly in concern for his distress.] I don't live in England.

My name is Andromeda. I live here in Norfinbury.

Andro...meda? But you're not! [Sealand shakes his head.]

We were kidnapped here, remember?! It's all snowy and cold and horrible. No one lives here!

Well, maybe a long time ago. [Long by whose standards, who knows. America hops back and forth on that front when it comes to vague descriptions of time.] But yeah, this place is super deserted, remember? You should really lie down.

I live here. I wasn't kidnapped.

[Andromeda, whoever she is, seems certain of this, in a very calm way.] I don't think I need to lie down. You two are welcome to make yourself comfortable, though.

No! [Sealand is apparently making the transition from panicked to distressed, enough that he gives England a small shove.]

You need to give my brother back and then we're gonna get out of this stupid house! [Yes, he's going to insult this weirdo's home too.]

Edited 2015-09-18 18:48 (UTC)

[America fusses with his glasses, shifting them pointlessly around on his face.] Look--uh--sh--oot. [America only barely stops himself from cursing in front of Sealand, his mind looking for solutions where there aren't any. Then, an idea.

He walks over to England and shakes him sort of roughly. No one said it was a good idea.]

[Between Sealand's shoving and America's shaking, Andromeda does make a small sound of protest, wiggling her shoulders a bit to indicate that she would like America's hands off of her.]

Excuse me, please don't push me around. I don't know anything about your brother, and shoving me is very rude.

[Sealand actually agrees with this terrible idea right now. Shake the England back into him tbh.]

You're very rude! [He scowls, folding his arms across his chest.] Or you should be, stupid.

[In response to America's outburst, Andromeda looks up from the tablet from where she's sitting against the front door.]

Of course we can. That's where we are.

[America looks up from his tablet as well, across at England--or Andromeda right now, he guesses. The irritation is obvious, because he still refuses to actually believe she has any idea where they are. After all, she's a weird shadow thing in England's body.]

I know Alaska. There's no Norfinbury in Alaska.

[She doesn't react much to America's blatant irritation, cool as a cucumber as she tries to explain.]

There's been a Norfinbury in Alaska for a long time. I can't remember how long, but I know there has. I've lived here as long as I can remember.

[America has never been anywhere near a cucumber even when he's in a good mood. Saying something like that...] It's not as long as I remember, y'know. [Or maybe she doesn't, even though she's inhabiting England or something. But America does.]

[England is fully aware of this conversation going on, but he has no control over it, and Andromeda can't access his knowledge. So sad.]

Maybe you've just never heard of it before? [She sounds genuinely helpful, her tone patient. It's still really weird coming out of England's body.]

I've heard of every place in Alaska. [America is already thinking too much about the idea of this being some version of the United States. Hearing things like that out of a voice at all like England's is adding layers of upset on top of it, which isn't something he needs right now.] And I mean that literally. Since I guess you don't know. But I've heard of literally every place.

You haven't, if you haven't heard of Norfinbury. [Andromeda remains calm, despite England's internal screaming at her to shut up and stop upsetting America. He's not handling the revelation particularly well, either.

But Andromeda is in control, and her expression shows only mild concern for America's distress.]

Stop acting like that! [That's an extremely nonspecific admonition, but America doesn't expect Andromeda to listen anyway. It's just too calm and reassured, as if America was wrong about this. She doesn't even know who he is.] There isn't a Norfinbury anywhere in the United States, not Alaska or anywhere.

[Andromeda frowns a bit, though there doesn't seem to be any real distress behind it, only worry.] Acting like what? I'm only telling you what I know. Norfinbury is located in the state of Alaska. There's no need to raise your voice.

Like you know what you're saying! [Again America lets any deeper meaning hang unsaid, just focusing on the most basic problem. That's probably not helping out with clarity. Also, he's only raising his voice even more.]

I don't think you should be yelling. This is my house, you know. [The implication being that it is very rude to yell at your host and insinuate that they are delusional or something.]

I'll yell if I want to! That's not even your body! [No one tells America what to do!]

Yelling at me isn't going to help anything.

[She doesn't acknowledge the matter of the body, since she's already established that she doesn't think that's what's going on.]

Don't tell me what's not going to help, either! [Furious contrariness is keeping him going.] You have no idea what's going on so stop acting like everything's fine!

Well, you're not really explaining. You're just shouting at me. That's not very helpful to anyone.

[She will continue to be reasonable. Sorry, America.]

You were being not helpful first. [America is in a mood--this is a terrible day of a terrible month and a bit now and he really is still a child in a few ways. He thinks he has every reason to be upset, personally, but he's not in the mood for a reasonable argument with some shadow ghost who would just tell him he's crazy if he said he was a nation after acting like he was mistaken about Alaska and is insisting on saying all of this in sort of England's voice but it's not England's voice really because it's all wrong and the accent is wrong and the words are wrong and the inflection is wrong and it's wrong and he hates it.]

I'm sorry you don't find my information useful. But I can only tell you what I know.

[She sounds sympathetic to America's distress, at any rate, even if she thinks he's wrong about Alaska.]

[When America wakes up unable to move, he can't help the panic curling in the back of his throat, but he also can't help the little finally that slips through his head. He's not dumb, he knows pattern recognition when it happens--England should go back to normal after this, right? He doesn't know why he has to be involved in this paralysis-and-injection deal, but he'll take that over dealing with shadow thing possession any longer.

But, as the paralysis fades, he starts to feel--really awful, honestly. Sluggish and cold in the gross, clammy sort of way. Maybe it's just because it's early and this is an awful way to wake up. He hardly got any sleep the night before anyway. He sits up.

And then he promptly turns and vomits all over the floor. Ugh.]

[No matter how many injections he sits through, the sleep paralysis never gets any easier for England. He doesn't deal well with not being in control of his own body. In fact, he's not even sure if it is paralysis at first, or if Andromeda has simply elected not to move his body yet.

But then he feels the injection; he waits, impatiently, for the paralysis to fade. He doesn't feel Andromeda's presence any longer, but he can't be certain until he goes to sit up and his body actually responds.

Thank heavens. He stretches his arms toward the ceiling, revelling in having his control back. He doesn't know if America and Sealand got injections, as well; they weren't possessed, so perhaps not? But he'll find out soon enough. Sealand is right next to him, after all.]

[Sealand tries to fight the paralysis, as he always has tried to do. But all he does is get himself somewhat worked up, mentally at least. When he can finally move, he moves his hand automatically to the place where the needle had gone into his arm.

He'd positioned himself far away from Andromeda last night, curling up at the edge of the bed. But now, he sits up and watches as the person beside him stretches. If he got a shot too... England could be...]

J-Jerk England?

[Okay, so America threw up a little. More than a little. Actually, that's most of his dinner on the floor, he's pretty sure, and considering how difficult it is to get food, there's a different sort of upset in the back of his brain. He fumbles for his glasses to try and bring the world into better focus. When putting them on doesn't help at all, he feels the return of actual panic. Rubbing his eyes doesn't help. With the increasing fear comes the uneasy clench of his stomach--and then he's throwing up. Again. Just bile this time, he thinks. It's hard to tell like this.]

[Of course. England scoffs after Sealand addresses him.]

I'm afraid "Jerk England" isn't present. Just England will have to suffice.

[He considers telling Sealand that he's been here the whole time, a prisoner within his own body, but he doesn't want to scare Sealand or provoke questions about why he didn't try harder to shake the possession. And besides, the sound of retching from somewhere else in the house catches England's attention. He squints in the direction of the hallway and then looks down at Sealand, worried.] Did you hear that?

[Sealand's eyes widen, and for one really wild moment it almost looks like he might go forward and give his brother a hug of relief. Instead though, he opens his mouth for what's going to be a ~~bratty~~ talking to about how England shouldn't have gone and got himself possessed in the first place, obviously this is his fault.]

I-

[The gagging interrupts though, and he ends up frowning at the door in alarm instead.]

America's in the other room. He's only other one here. [Unless the monsters can get sick.]

[The most America feels like he can do, at this point, is wash his mouth out with water. He spits it out on the floor, but at this point that's not really getting the floor significantly more dirty. Getting across the room to the door and to other people seems like an impossible task right now. He can barely make out the door. He ends up just laying back down, burying himself back under his dinosaur blanket and the other things he brought along and trying not to upset his stomach anymore. He really hopes that injection fixed England.]

[Arguing with Sealand over pointless things will have to wait. England knows America took the guest room, of course, but he was well last night, as far as England could tell. He glances again between the doorway and Sealand, and then shifts so that his legs are bent over the edge of the bed.]

...come on, let's go have a look at him.

[England doesn't want to leave Sealand on his own, and besides, Sealand likes America. He's less likely to be a pain in the arse for England if he's worried about America.

He stands up off the bed and crosses the bedroom, glancing back once to make sure Sealand is following. The short distance to the guest room feels nerve-wracking after what England previously ran into in this house, but nothing ambushes them on their journey. Unless one counts the sight of America's pool of vomit as an ambush.

England might, at any rate.]

Fu— [no don't swear in front of Sealand...] —good lord, are you all right?

[Sealand follows without question, both concerned for America and - though he'd never admit it - not really wanting to be left alone now his brother's back. For now, at least.

He's almost expecting something similar to when he and America woke up to find England unconscious, and a weird thought passes through his mind that maybe whatever was in England now flew into America, and that's what that noise was. He soon sees when they reach the second bedroom that nothing like that seems to have happened, though the sight of America and the remains of his dinner is unexpected enough to leave Sealand wide-eyed in the doorway.]

America?

[There's obvious relief in hearing England speaking like England again. Sealand sounds okay, too, except for the concern. Of course, America would rather not look quite this pathetic in front of either of them, but trying to sit up properly and look okay--and he does give it his absolute best try--is impossible. He shifts a little, gets about halfway up on his elbow, and then slides right back down onto his side. He squints over at the two other nations, even though they should be far enough away for America to see them clearly even without his glasses.]

I just--don't feel good.

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[log] 'cause I'm half sick of shadows [closed]

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I'LL REPLY TO THINGS WHENEVER I WANT this notif got lost I am sorry