06. what could death do if thou shouldst depart?

[keepscalm]

Characters: England and you
Setting: Backdated through the month of June; various places in the Tower
Format: Starting action, will match!
Summary: England wakes up following his death, decides to be a nosy asshole, and then remembers what month it is.
Warnings: Mentions of character death, vivisection, surgery, Anglo-American history, gore, violence, language. Will edit for anything further.


Backdated to 6/13 (following his vivisection) - Open; dormitory hallways, floor one, floor two, floor three

[He awakens in his room somewhat sluggishly, blinking his eyes open to the bleary sight of the drab ceiling above him. He feels dreadful. It's as if he's been unconscious for a few days. For all he knows, he has. He could liken himself to the walking dead.

Dead. Walking dead. He died. Nine months -- it was nine now, wasn't it? -- and he finally died. He was killed. Murdered, really. No wonder he's tired. Death by vivisection would exhaust any normal person.

God, he was vivisected. Jason literally hollowed him out until there wasn't enough to keep his body going -- and probably continued after that, too, until there was nothing left at all. All of his vital organs -- pieces that represented his country -- removed from him like nothing more than small trifles. What a way to go.

It doesn't bother him as much as the fact that he'd had an audience does.

Screaming.

The memories of distraught cries flood back to him in a rush that makes him bolt upright. America. His boy, his dear, darling boy, saw Jason do that to him. Zelda, Link, Taiki...everyone. Everyone saw. People he cares about had to watch him die.

England's eyes harden and narrow into a glare. His head is swimming with vertigo, but he hardly notices through the anger that is burning through him. It's a fire he hasn't felt in a long time. Not since he came to the Tower. Probably not even before that. It's a righteous kind of fury that has him throwing aside the covers and swinging his legs out of bed to take him towards his trunk. He retrieves his weapons and his clothes to dress himself with automatic motions.

Resolve. The anger within him thrums with resolve.

England will be making his way to the third floor library via the elevator from the dorms to the ground. Catch him on the way?]

Backdated to 6/15 through 6/25 - Closed; all floors

[Casually puts filler here.]

Backdated to 7/1 - Open; room 1-20, 2-16, dormitory floors, cafeteria

[It's begun.

England is sick.

He hasn't been watching the dates carefully -- there isn't much point to it -- but he knows the months, at least. Not that he'd need to count to know it's the beginning of July. He woke up with a dull ache permeating most of his vital muscles and a cold congesting his sinuses. Not to mention he was disturbed to consciousness in the middle of the night from a shockingly vivid nightmare of being abandoned in the rain, something that's not exactly normal fare when he sleeps.

He'll either be found in his own room, America's room, or the cafeteria, looking restless and downright miserable. Approach him with caution.]

 

Comments

[keepscalm]

A sharp pain in his head elicited a frustrated sound from England. He pulled the covers further up over his head, but the darkness didn't alleviate the pain. It was a moment before he realised that the source was magical. How irritating. Even sensing magic made his state worse.

He sniffed with indignity before tugging the covers down so that he could look towards the door. He wasn't really sure what he was expecting to see, but a wolf emblazoned with red markings wasn't it.

England squinted at the canine. Sure enough, it was the source of the magic he was sensing -- and quite a powerful source it was.

Slowly, England sat up so he could greet his unexpected guest. "Hello there. Are you looking for someone?"

[victory_howl]

Ammy tilted her head back the other way, but of course was unable to answer. Instead, she wiggled her way through the door, stepping into the room. She looked at England, then at the floor, then at England again.

Then she leapt up onto the foot of the bed, sniffing at the covers.

[keepscalm]

England wasn't sure if the magical properties would allow the wolf to communicate, but it seemed that such wasn't the case. He waited patiently as it approached, wary but unafraid.

Still, jumping up onto the bed earned a bit of alarm from him. His eyes widened, but he didn't have much energy to do anything else.

England watched as Amaterasu nosed around for a moment before remarking again. "Not much here but me, I'm afraid."

[victory_howl]

Her ears pricked at the sound of England's voice and she looked back up at him. Then she plopped down on her haunches, clearly intending to hang out for a little while. As long as he wasn't going to throw things at her, anyway.

Though they were inside, a slight breeze picked up inside the room, cool and soothing. Ammy watched England expectantly to see its effects.

[keepscalm]

England squinted at the sudden feel of a draft within the room, despite it being windowless and functionally airtight. It was...relaxing. It didn't clear up his cold any, but it did seem to dull the aches in his muscles a little. Experimentally, he lifted an arm to flex his fingers and stretch the limb out. It was still a bit sore, but the pain didn't seem to be as deep as it had been previously. Whatever this magic was, it was powerful to even begin to soothe the deep-seated effects his seasonal trauma had on him.

He glanced back to Ammy with polite intrigue, setting his arm gingerly back against the bed. "You are something special, aren't you?"

[victory_howl]

Ammy opened her mouth in a wolfish grin. Her tail waved slowly back and forth, thumping up against England's foot in steady rhythm. A dandelion seed floated by in the breeze; she tried to catch it with her mouth, but an eddy of air carried it safely out of her reach.

Deciding not to chase it any further, she splayed out on her stomach, flopping on top of England's ankles. And yawned.

[keepscalm]

It hurt a little to support that kind of weight on his legs, but the wolf looked so genuinely pleased that England didn't have the heart to turn her away. Besides, it was clearly no ordinary canine, and he wouldn't dare slight her by being rude.

He couldn't help but chuckle a little at her show of laziness, preceding a lean forward to gingerly stroke the top of her head, if she'd let him. "Well, if you really want to keep company with the ill, I won't begrudge you that," said the nation with a note of sleepy amusement.

[victory_howl]

Ammy didn't seem inclined to object, half-closing her eyes as England stroked her head. Her fur was surprisingly soft to the touch, and warm, as though she'd been lying in the sun.

Well, as long as she couldn't figure out a way to get out of here, taking a little rest didn't sound too bad.