I have, indeed, no abhorrence of danger

[colonial]

Characters: America, open
Setting: Tower staircase, nighttime
Format: action
Summary: America is being chased by a hellhound. Maybe he should stop going out at night.
Warnings: character death is very likely

[America stumbles up the staircase, sliding precariously on ice-slick steps before he finds his balance and takes the stairs as fast as his legs will carry him. The hellhound, fire and rage, is just behind him, but the snow slows it down and America has a head start anyway. Of course, it's so much larger than him, its paws carrying it so much more distance than America's legs, and every near-slip on the staircase makes his heart skitter painfully against his chest all over again.

He knows he shouldn't be out after dark, but this wasn't the first time he'd sneaked out. This is the first time he's run into anything like this--made of smoke and fire, nothing he can punch or throw. He clutches a yellow bunny hood in his hands--the speed was what got him such distance, but he can't go up the stairs with them or he'll slide right off.

The hellhound growls, and America whines. He's too scared to cry.]

Comments

[glassceiling]

[Assassin is out at night, practicing her newly regained powers. After almost a month, a good amount of her powers have returned. She is weaker than she is used to, but she is no longer powerless.]

[As she slinks down the staircase, she trails blood behind her. It's the remains of the monsters that she has killed.]

[Her eyes go wide as she seems the flickering flames and the escaping child.]

...You! Child! What are you doing? What is that?

[colonial]

A hellhound! [America slows down only enough to avoid crashing into her as he runs up, though he slips on the blood and has to grab at the next stair up to keep from tumbling backwards.

He rode one once, and that's why he knows, but he can't do that now, so--]

You gotta run!

[glassceiling]

[She hurries after him, reaching out with one of her arms to support and hopefully steady him.]

So it is one of the monsters that haunt this Tower? Is there no way to fight against it?

[colonial]

[Steadied, he continues scrambling up the staircase, glancing back at her to make sure she hasn't fallen behind and shivering as he catches a glimpse of the monster chasing after.]

No, you just gotta run!

[Or that's what he's been told, and he knows he can't punch something made of fire.]

[glassceiling]

[She gives a dissatisfied grunt before she reaches at America with a bandaged hand.]

...Then, would you want me to carry you as we ran? It would be more efficient that way.

[Plus, she feels bad looking at him shivering and risking falling down the stairs.]

[colonial]

[Normally, America likes doing things on his own. But, with that dog so close behind, he reaches to take her hand. He's a little hesitant--he hasn't shed his shyness entirely--but he doesn't seem afraid of her. There are better things to be afraid of.]

Okay. We have to get up to the bedrooms.

[glassceiling]

I understand.

[She stops, bends and scoops him up. She then starts running quickly, trying to make up for the time she had lost. Still, she can smell the smoke and hear the hellhound. And the bedrooms seemed so far away...]

[colonial]

[America clings to her easily--he's used to being carried, even in dangerous situations. He peeks back around Assassin at the hellhound, but the sight of it is distressing and he buries his face in her clothes instead.]

It's not as fast up the stairs.

[Still fast, of course. He glances up at her.]

Um--I have something that lets people run really fast. Can you run real fast up stairs without falling?

[glassceiling]

[Her arms are a little stiff as she holds him since she fears possibly hurting him with her unique body. However, she still holds him tightly.]

[She considers the question for a second. Even without heightened speed or strength, her agility from her training is intact.]

...Yes, I believe so.

[colonial]

[America holds up a yellow bunny hood, still clutched tightly in his hand.]

If you wear this you run real fast. That's how I got to the stairs without it catching me.

If you wear it you have to give it back once we're at the bedrooms though!

[It was his very first birthday present, after all.]

[glassceiling]

[She stares at the yellow bunny hood, not exactly convinced. But finally, she decides to have faith and put it on. Awkwardly maintaining her hold on the boy with arm, she frees one hand to take the hood and slip it on her cloaked head.]

When will it begin to work?

[colonial]

It works real fast!

[Indeed, as soon as the hood is properly seated on her head, she should find her speed enhanced greatly.]

[glassceiling]

[The sudden boost in speed is a welcome one, and she doesn't even stumble as she zooms up flights of stairs.]

It does. Thank you for the help.

[Though, she can still hear the hellhound, even if it seems further away.]

So where did you get this cap from? Or were you the one who enchanted it?

[keepscalm]

[The cold wakes him in the wee hours of the night; certainly, England is accustomed to cooler climates, but anything below freezing is discomforting to him. Sleeping in such intense cold dampens his awareness since it assaults his senses so badly.

Needless to say, when he stirs to find that America is not in the bed with him, he jolts to full consciousness. His fingers are completely numb despite the gloves he's crafted for himself, and his nose and feet aren't in any better state. But he can't wait for them to warm up, because they're never going to warm up with the weather like this. He just grabs all of his weapons and catapults himself out of the bed (quietly, so as not to wake Sealand) so that he can track down his young colony.]

[bydefacto]

[Sealand isn't fairing much better with the cold. He's been falling in and out of conciousness for several hours now, but none of it is especially restful sleep. Roy the giant hamster is curled up in the covers with him and is at least partially successful at keeping him a little warmer, but Sealand is still very uncomfortable.

So he's awake when he hears movement in the bed beside him. He sits up, squinting through the darkness, and sees England is up and heading for the door, America noticeably absent. He frowns, but instead of asking and no doubt get some grumpy response from the jerk, Sealand decides to hurry out of bed as soon as England has left the room. Leaving Roy curled up in the bed, Sealand quietly follows his brother out into the hallway.]

[keepscalm]

[He's armed with his knife, crossbow, and wand; it's even colder out in the hallways, but he's left his cloak behind. A garment like that doesn't lend well to running, and it's well past the hour of relative safety in the Tower when it comes to monsters.

England doesn't notice his tag-along for the time being. The snow has long since covered any tracks that America might have left, but there are only two directions to go from here, and upstairs there are only dormitories. America has no reason to skulk around the bedrooms of strangers.

No, he'll be downstairs.

So down the staircase England goes. And down, and down...]

[bydefacto]

[Sealand has enough sense to remember the sword under his bed just before he leaves the dormitory, and quickly grabs it before rushing out into the snow, pulling his hat low below his ears. He drags the sword behind him, not entirely used to its weight despite the months he's been training with Aleph. He keeps a fair distance between himself and England; he can still see England's footfalls in the snow, so it isn't difficult to see where he's gone.

That dumb jerk could get hurt out here at night! And America might be in trouble too...! It's a really good thing Sealand is out here with his sword to help them.]

[colonial]

[While England and Sealand are coming down, America is coming up. His breath is coming heavily now, proving even America's energy reserves can be exhausted when in the face of running up so many steps, but adrenaline and terror push him on. The smoke from the hellhound in pursuit billows around him, but he fights back the urge to cough.

Seeing England grants a measure of relief, and he calls out.] E-Engwand! [He does cough, a little, but he fights it back down and doesn't slow his run.]

We have to run up!

[keepscalm]

[England smells the smoke before he sees America; it rises up through the cool air of the Tower, and though his instinct tells him to run in the opposite direction, he knows that America has to be past it somewhere.

Of course, he gets confirmation on that theory quickly enough. America's name dies on his tongue, every nerve in his body sparking with the impending danger. If curious, brash little America is running, there's nothing good down that staircase.

He slips on the icy steps as his feet attempt to bring him to an abrupt stop, just barely catching himself on the frigid handrail so he doesn't go sliding down the stairwell into the mystery beast's maw. It's a desperate scramble as he turns his body and gets his feet back underneath him so he can go up the stairs. He doesn't even think; he just scoops America up and runs.

Unknowingly, of course, right in Sealand's direction.]

[bydefacto]

[Sealand isn't exactly expecting England to turn right back around and head right back up the staircase, and certainly not so fast. He's concentrating on England's footsteps in the snow, rather than straight ahead at what's down the steps; not the smartest thing to do right now. Especially considering the strange smokey smell he's noticed by now.

So, it's a surprise when he looks up and sees England and America right in front of him, and he's all of a sudden too close to be able to stop himself barrelling right into the both of them, slipping in the snow and almost falling onto his own sword.]

[colonial]

[America isn't expecting the sudden stop, and he's pitched forward into the snow head over heels. Of course, there isn't much height difference between his head and his heels, so he corrects himself quickly enough and scrambles back to his feet.]

You have to run too! There's a monster coming!

[America's eyes are wide and earnest, and he glances back fearfully at the approaching hellhound.]

[keepscalm]

[England wasn't prepared for the collision whatsoever, and lets out a startled sound as he runs full-on into Sealand. Of course, England is nearly twice Sealand's size and they're on a snowy staircase, so America isn't the only one that ends up on the ground -- in fact, only the difference in height provided by the levels of the stairs prevent England from tripping over Sealand.

The crossbow goes to the ground as well, though England barely even absorbs that, too frustrated and panicked by this new development.] Sealand? What the hell are you doing here?!

[But this query is posed as he stumbles to his feet yet again, because somewhere in his brain he knows there's no time to answer; it just came out of his mouth before he thought better of it.]

[bydefacto]

[Sealand lands on his backside, blinking around at America in obvious surprise. He picks himself up off the floor, scrabbling to grab his sword before glaring over at Emgland as though he'd bumped straight into Sealand deliberately.]

Helping, jerk!

[He doesn't elaborate any further than that though, realising they shouldn't waste any more time as he runs over what America had said about a monster. It's clear they all need to get out of here now, and Sealand is already turning back up the stairs, panic rising in his gut.]

[colonial]

[America hesitates to look at the other two nations, making sure they're running again. He isn't as quick as either of them without his bunny hood on, but he's able to get up a bit quicker as well.]

You can be mad at each other in the bedrooms!

[keepscalm]

[England balks at that answer, coughing out a few ineffectual syllables before repeating:] Helping? [In his most incredulous tone, of course.

But Sealand gets no further reprimand; the flight instinct is overwhelming and as soon as the crossbow is in his hands again, England is hurrying forward and shooing the smaller nations ahead of him, to make absolutely sure he's between both of them and the hellhound as they're all running.] Go on!

[bydefacto]

[Sealand has no reply to either of them; he's sprinting up the stairs now, no objection to his brother's order here.

The sword help over his head and terror gripping him, he splutters a little against the smoke from the beast chasing the three of them, as he runs on ahead of England.]