ＥＮＧＬＡＮＤ♛ Arthur Kirkland (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
keepscalm) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-07-01 05:30 pm
keepscalm) wrote in towerofanimus2013-07-01 05:30 pm
12. when I do count the clock that tells the time
Characters: [OU] England (keepscalm), close CR, and anyone who came from England's network post!
Setting: Room 1-20 and various; put your scenario in the subject line!
Format: Starting action, though I will gladly match! c:
Summary: Zo has given England a gift, and he wants to share it with those who deserve to know.
Warnings: Lots of ugly nation feelings, potentially lots of other ugly feelings too.
scenario A♛ Room 1-20 (closed tocolonial)
[He wakes up with a thickness in his head that has stayed familiar, even despite all the other things that have changed since he arrived here. His nose is congested and there's a persistent tickle in his throat, despite the fact that there's nothing around to even get sick from.
July is finally upon him.
The glasses on the bedside table catch his attention before the notes. Trying not to disturb America with his shifting, he reaches over to grab the spectacles and the papers. He's touched by Zo's sincerity as he reads on; he hadn't expected a response, but he's glad that his gratitude was heard.
He's not sure about the glasses, though. Not that he particularly distrusts Zo, but England isn't certain how a pair of glasses is going to help anything. Still, he puts them on nonetheless.
Not much seems to change until he looks down at America. His stomach lurches unpleasantly at the sight of his tiny charge's soul within his body — not this, not again, he's tired of having this rubbed in his face — but something seems different, even with the gut reaction of rage and disgust at seeing America's soul.
When he tilts his head, leans in a bit closer, England can see that it isn't just one soul, as it has been every other time. It's— hundreds, thousands of souls, and then England realises: America's people.
His people, once upon a time.
They're all still there. America's soul is still— it's still America.
England sets a hand on America's shoulder and shakes him gently. His voice is urgent.] America— America, wake up.
[Maybe it's not real. Maybe it's just more of the glamour, and Zo has just given him an empty comfort. But England has never wanted more badly to see anything in his life.]
scenario B♛ Various (closed to close CR)
[He checks their dorm rooms first — Zelda is closest down from his, and then there's Link at the end, France is up a few floors — and if they're not there, he'll continue on to their usual haunts. The glasses are cradled protectively in his hands; he doesn't want to risk breaking them, and so despite being in a rush, does his best to avoid collisions with anyone.
When he finds one of the people he's looking for, he calls out their name. There's an excitement and urgency in his voice that's uncharacteristic of him even on a good day; it's downright surreal, given his emotional state during the past month.]
scenario C♛ Room 1-20 (open)
[He waits in his dormitory, seated on his bed with the glasses on the nightstand. The notes from Zo are tucked away in the drawer; they're a tad personal, and though England doesn't mind offering the comfort of the glasses, he doesn't really want to have to explain the details of his communication with Zo.
Of course, he can't be sure that these will offer anyone any comfort at all. But they at least deserve to see.]
keepscalm), close CR, and anyone who came from England's network post!Setting: Room 1-20 and various; put your scenario in the subject line!
Format: Starting action, though I will gladly match! c:
Summary: Zo has given England a gift, and he wants to share it with those who deserve to know.
Warnings: Lots of ugly nation feelings, potentially lots of other ugly feelings too.
scenario A♛ Room 1-20 (closed to
colonial)[He wakes up with a thickness in his head that has stayed familiar, even despite all the other things that have changed since he arrived here. His nose is congested and there's a persistent tickle in his throat, despite the fact that there's nothing around to even get sick from.
July is finally upon him.
The glasses on the bedside table catch his attention before the notes. Trying not to disturb America with his shifting, he reaches over to grab the spectacles and the papers. He's touched by Zo's sincerity as he reads on; he hadn't expected a response, but he's glad that his gratitude was heard.
He's not sure about the glasses, though. Not that he particularly distrusts Zo, but England isn't certain how a pair of glasses is going to help anything. Still, he puts them on nonetheless.
Not much seems to change until he looks down at America. His stomach lurches unpleasantly at the sight of his tiny charge's soul within his body — not this, not again, he's tired of having this rubbed in his face — but something seems different, even with the gut reaction of rage and disgust at seeing America's soul.
When he tilts his head, leans in a bit closer, England can see that it isn't just one soul, as it has been every other time. It's— hundreds, thousands of souls, and then England realises: America's people.
His people, once upon a time.
They're all still there. America's soul is still— it's still America.
England sets a hand on America's shoulder and shakes him gently. His voice is urgent.] America— America, wake up.
[Maybe it's not real. Maybe it's just more of the glamour, and Zo has just given him an empty comfort. But England has never wanted more badly to see anything in his life.]
scenario B♛ Various (closed to close CR)
[He checks their dorm rooms first — Zelda is closest down from his, and then there's Link at the end, France is up a few floors — and if they're not there, he'll continue on to their usual haunts. The glasses are cradled protectively in his hands; he doesn't want to risk breaking them, and so despite being in a rush, does his best to avoid collisions with anyone.
When he finds one of the people he's looking for, he calls out their name. There's an excitement and urgency in his voice that's uncharacteristic of him even on a good day; it's downright surreal, given his emotional state during the past month.]
scenario C♛ Room 1-20 (open)
[He waits in his dormitory, seated on his bed with the glasses on the nightstand. The notes from Zo are tucked away in the drawer; they're a tad personal, and though England doesn't mind offering the comfort of the glasses, he doesn't really want to have to explain the details of his communication with Zo.
Of course, he can't be sure that these will offer anyone any comfort at all. But they at least deserve to see.]
no subject
Still, England is thankful for her kind words.
However, his face visibly falls as he gives her his answer.] You can see, but— you shouldn't look directly at me. Apparently my soul is a bit too complex to behold for those who aren't of a similar nature.
[Despite that, he does reach over to retrieve the glasses so he can offer them to her.] Might be worth looking at yourself, though. Just to be sure you're seeing it all right.
no subject
[She doesn't say she won't look, because the curiosity to do so is simply too strong. But she will be careful to look off to the side and try and catch a glimpse out of the corner of her eyes.
Before that, though, she takes the glasses and puts them on. She's not sure what she expects to see when she looks down at herself - there's her soul, yes. It's more recognizably her than her own body is. It's then that something else drifts into her view - a sparkling orb of white-violet light. Her breath catches in her throat.]
Oh, the Djinn...
[She looks more carefully. There's her own soul and then there's nine sparkling orbs of light - remnants of Weyard that had attached themselves to her long before she'd even known that the Tower of Animus existed. Elemental beings that had been with her since almost the beginning. She can't help but smile, and she'll deny later that it brought a tear to her eye (even though it totally did).
A moment passes, and one of those sparkling orbs of light emerges from her chest before taking on the form of a silver-and-violet creature, which perches on her shoulder. She looks to it with a small smile before looking down at the ground near England's feet.
Even then, it's still blindingly, overwhelmingly bright. She doesn't quite manage to muffle a gasp and has to try really hard to keep from snapping her gaze up to look at him head-on, out of instinct; instead, she ignores the slight straining of her eyes and the headache that is undoubtedly going to be plaguing her for the foreseeable future and focuses on what she can see, trying to imagine what the whole picture must look like.
With just a small portion being so blindingly brilliant... She was right, she decides. It was amazing, and that was just the first of the many things it was.]
Beautiful... [Her voice is somewhat strained. She reaches up to remove the glasses and then holds them out to him.] What I could see really was beautiful.