http://spiritsup.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] spiritsup.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] towerofanimus2011-10-09 03:56 pm

[Event, returning from surgery, open]

Characters: All those who were expermimented on if they want and everyone else
Setting: Cafeteria, morning
Format: Whatevers easiest
Summary: Those that were taken a week ago are left in the cafeteria, changed and somewhat broken. (I'm starting with Romeo, and then everyone can just make their own threads/reply to each other/tag around. I just thought this would save 8 very similar different threads)
Warnings: Horror, description of body modification horror, trauma, angst, unplesentness. Probably lots of anger

Romeo had barely struggled when he was taken a week ago but now he was angry. The bad people had hurt them all, did awful things to them. He shouted at them and was ignored, he tried to bash them with his antlers but it did nothing. Soon they were left in the cafeteria. It had only been a week but everything had changed. Romeo had fallen once they had put him down, he still wasn't good at walking and he looked around. The cafeteria was exactly the same though it seemed that the whole tower should have changed, become even scarier than it already was. He looked at his mouth, so strange and protruding out of his face and then down at his legs, four of them now not two. They looked strange in a way they hadn't in the cells. They had been a scary place and the face that he now had hooves and antlers hadn't been as horrifying as it was now he was in a normal place. A place he had been for a long time now.

He looked at the others and tried not to cry, he had cried so much already and it wouldn't keep anyone's spirits up. Now they were back they had to act strong and brave because they would be seeing their friends. Those that were hopefully safe. With a determined look Romeo struggled to his feet and stood, staying very close to the others, scared even now he was no longer imprisoned. "It will be alright." He whispered, both to himself and to those around him. They just had to keep their spirits up, and no matter what they had to keep living.

[identity profile] creme-master.livejournal.com 2011-10-11 11:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[Some sick part of him had missed how embarrassed the Englishman got when he didn't quite have the social grace needed for a situation. He knew Arthur all too well and took no particular offense for the lack of physical reassuring. It would have probably been laughable anyway - though he thought of this in only the fondest of manners.

Running an anxious hand through his hair, Fran gave the strands a tug. He was here - the majority of him that was; and it had been with bitterness that he recalled parts of him being dumped in the trash like waste. The Frenchman returned both hands to the table, idly tracing the pinky-sized hole in the surface.

Arthur was rewarded with a dubious look at his question.]
Are you willing to be a test subject? I am unwilling to have this hurt others; I am not inhumane.

[If it burned through a table there was no doubt in his mind that it would cut through delicate flesh.]

[identity profile] pixietea.livejournal.com 2011-10-12 04:21 am (UTC)(link)
[Arthur watched the other country's hand fidget atop the table after the awkwardness of maintaining eye contact for too long crept up on him. It was a little rude, but he'd never really been expecting to be comforting his oldest and closest enemy. They didn't teach for that scenario in etiquette classes, regrettably; he'd really have to look in to implementing that.

The suggestion was met with a grimace. He didn't really fancy the thought, but it would be a help to everyone involved if France was aware of the full extent of damage that the sludge could do. He wasn't particularly concerned with the potential pain -- over the years, his tolerance for it had grown to jaw-dropping levels, as was common for many old and war-worn nations. England was more worried about making sure the stuff didn't eat down too far. It would be a pain to grow everything back if it reached the bone.

Though, he reminded himself, it was nothing compared to what Francis had already been through.

With that thought in mind, he unbuttoned the cuff of one sleeve to roll it up to his elbow, exposing the pale and intermittently scarred skin beneath. The Brit gave France a bit of a warning look before he presented his arm. He was opening up a golden opportunity to do all kinds of miserable things to the proffered limb, he knew, and trust was a selfishly guarded thing for England as it was. He was hoping the minor allowance wouldn't be abused.]
Have at it. It's important that you know beyond a doubt.

[identity profile] creme-master.livejournal.com 2011-10-13 09:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[He had not been serious at the idea of using Arthur as some sort of guinea pig for this quest in knowledge. In fact he had hoped the neatly written retort would have put him off. A good chunk of his more potent resent toward England had been set toward the back of his mind, even moreso in lieu of the surgery he'd just undergone. There was part of him that disliked the idea of going soft at Arthur's expense but it was a dull and hollow sort of complaint.

Francis' frown deepened at the movement off to his side, turning to watch a pale arm was bared and offered. Oh, he'd caught the look, the one that said I will throttle you with my good arm if you do something. Perhaps he was just becoming verbose internally since he couldn't outwardly. His brows knit together at the very rare opportunity - and oh how rare it truly was - making sure his hand was clean before he gripped it and moved it to the side; an obvious 'no']


It ate through a surgery table and this table. I have no doubt it would eat through muscle.
Edited 2011-10-13 21:23 (UTC)

[identity profile] pixietea.livejournal.com 2011-10-14 07:26 am (UTC)(link)
[England awaited France's response with growing anxiety, unsure of what exactly that frown was supposed to mean. He half expected that the skin on his wrist would need replacing when the other man reached for him; his arm twitched slightly. Old habits die hard -- Arthur was used to pulling away immediately if Francis' hands came within even a foot of him.

But, the touch was decidedly not accompanied by a burning sensation (any of England's best witticisms about French hands aside), and France was given a look of mild confusion.]
Here I thought you'd jump at the chance to have a go at me again. [It was the truth, but it was delivered in mildly sarcastic jest, for the benefit of one or perhaps both of them.

The kingdom set aside any further remarks about France losing his touch, as it seemed too far too soon as far as jokes went. His eyes remained on the hand that had rejected his experiment rather than Francis' face when he spoke again, his tone returning to some effort at propriety.]
...until everything is on the level once more, the extension of my offer shall stand, should you find yourself needing or desiring assistance.

[His cheeks flared so hot in embarrassment at the verbal contract, England was worried that maybe he had been slapped with that tar stuff. But damn it, he wanted France back to normal.]

[identity profile] creme-master.livejournal.com 2011-10-17 02:56 pm (UTC)(link)
[England was right, of course. Sarcasm or not, France was always the eager one in causing the man beside him to squirm. It wasn't as cruel an urge as it had been for a good portion of their time together by any means.

Even if he weren't watching Arthur - and he was in a rather curious sort of way, he would have felt the man's attention burning through his hand. He almost felt like shoving him just to distract England from whatever bizarre sense of pity he was showing.

He didn't want Arthur's pity. He set his lines in an even thinner line, an arm going around his middle as he took to replying]


Perhaps when they removed my heart they took said ambition, Angleterre. Do you honestly think they will but everything back with a smile and expect me to just go on?

[the script had gotten increasingly smaller as he was running out of room. The question was still legible though - How could you do this to a group of people and just wave it off and return all back to normal? How?

It bothered him to look at Arthur so he stopped, rather glancing back at the various people that he'd been taken with. It was fairly easy, really, to break something. Fixing it though, repairing it back to shiny and new, was a difficult task that he doubted the Tower would bother with.]



(ooc: Stupid France muse hiding from me)

[identity profile] pixietea.livejournal.com 2011-10-19 09:19 am (UTC)(link)
[He could have smiled at the letters that formed 'Angleterre' were things not sounding so bleak. What did he expect? Not much, honestly. The hopelessness that he had awoken with this morning was rearing up and clawing like a monster.

He reached to grab for another napkin and slid it over to rest next to the filled one, gaze falling to the floor.]
I'm aware that not everything is sunshine and rainbows. [He's very familiar with the storm, both literally and metaphorically. England took a breath, crossing his arms and slumping a little in his seat; how terribly improper.] And that it will not be.

[The kingdom paused. He felt like he just kept stumbling into the same pitfall of what he was supposed to say -- everything felt wrong, somehow.] But at the very least, you will have back what belongs to you. [Potentially even if England had to seek it out and take it himself. He'd become pretty good at snatching up things that belonged to France.

He wasn't going to lie and say that he would handle this, or that he knew what he was doing, or that he even could do it. But he'd give it a shot. And he knew that even if he couldn't pull it off, someone would have to eventually. There were people in this tower far more suited to being heroes than Arthur was.]

[identity profile] creme-master.livejournal.com 2011-10-24 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[His lips twitched at Arthur's apparent conviction. Perhaps it was more cheek than what the situation deserved, but Francis was quick to dirty up the new napkin]

Do you miss our spirited debates already? [Francis seemed to pause at that, turning to look over at his longtime enemy and companion. He would never say that Arthur was trying to promise him anything; in fact there was always some smattering of surprise when the man's intent toward the Frenchman was anything short of hostile...]

Just like the British to hide their true colors until necessary. You are a terrible man, but I am glad you are standing with me.

[The hypocrite turned face at that, teeth grit. He did not know how long his current situation would last. A frown deepened the line of his mouth.]

What happens next?

[identity profile] pixietea.livejournal.com 2011-10-26 06:00 pm (UTC)(link)
[He makes sure to glance at the napkin between bits of writing, and grimaces at the initial words he sees.] I certainly do not, you twit. [He didn't miss the annoyance, but he did miss the safe paradigm that involved France being France.

He lets the jab at his nationality go with just a scoff, since it's no fun unfair and dishonourable to verbally spar with Francis when he can't orate. Instead, he focuses on the question, and eventually his expression goes from agitated to thoughtful, albeit with an undercurrent of troubled.]


Hell if I know. [Might as well be honest, right? Though that comment wasn't delivered with quite the emotional passion it warranted.] Those who desire and are able to investigate shall do so, I presume. [He was looking away from France until then, at which point he stole a peek. It may have been a silent 'do you want me to do anything?', but as they'd already made it very clear that there was little to do, Arthur wasn't sure exactly what he meant.

He'd really like the answer to the other nation's question to be 'things go back to normal'.]

[identity profile] creme-master.livejournal.com 2011-11-15 08:34 am (UTC)(link)
[France is good at reading the man beside him and it's not always a good thing. You could say he doesn't always use his powers for good. This time it was advantageous to know so much with so little, though Francis is left pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the headache he's lucky enough to feel. It was sad that this wasn't a sarcastic thought in the least.

He gave one last squeeze before returning to the napkin, brows furrowing as he stared at it.]


If you insist on calling me names I will be forced to avoid expressing my gratitude that something terrible hasn't fallen on those narrow shoulders of yours.

Besides a toxic mute, that is.

[He was idly tugging on the edges, making them rip in places]

Don't leave? [Now that... was a stab at his pride, though he lacked everything else so why not one more thing. Francis would goad Arthur plenty with flirtations just to see him twitching. Now that it was genuine; a need for a familiar face, voice, anything, he almost couldn't stand it. The pen in his hand twitched visibly with the effort it took to just cross it off. Quickly; add a jibe. Undo it.

Of course that failed.]

[identity profile] pixietea.livejournal.com 2011-11-17 09:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[It was weird enough to have to admit to France that England would have never wished anything like these experiments upon him -- it was downright surreal for Francis to confess any sort of satisfaction over England's safety.

His sense of belief was already a bit off-kilter from both of the aforementioned, so Francis' request was the final blow to crack the mask he had been desperately trying to keep from slipping off of his face. He stared at the other nation like a deer in the headlights, his disbelief far too blatant for anything that would be considered polite.

He managed to shake it once he realized he was staring (staring was unspeakably rude, after all), and toned down his disbelief to something more acceptable. The Englishman glanced between Francis and the abused napkin a few times before his gaze finally settled on his conversational partner, trepidation evident.]


...if you truly desire my company, I will not deny you it. [But it was pretty obvious from his expression that he was a bit lost for how exactly to go about the asked-for companionship; what else would they engage in when conversation was such a chore? Arthur wasn't well-versed in the art of keeping (or being) pleasant company for very long.]

[identity profile] creme-master.livejournal.com 2011-11-18 08:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[France looked about his age right then and there, a man unsure of the consequences of what he'd inadvertently confessed. It wasn't completely unknown that they were close whether they liked it or not. And he could admit to himself that before the man next to him had arrived he had worried for a moment, maybe two, about his safety. Only out of tradition. Right.

The lines deepened at his brow when he caught the surprise flashing across Arthur's face. At any other time, were their circumstances a bit more mundane, he would have laughed because Arthur, with his baby face looked so young when he didn't have the mask of a surly man firmly in place. His request had cast it aside, leaving them in contrast.]


I just need a moment of sanity.

[he paused to give Arthur a rather critical look before adding:]

Perhaps they stole my common sense from me as well. Sanity does not come easy between the two of us.

[But he could enjoy sitting off to the side and having Arthur tell him old fables. Like he used to when the man was just a bundle of agitated green cloth and brows]