In which the entire tower collectively goes OH SHIT

[tempustemporum]

Characters: The entire tower. PARTY POST.
Setting: Take a wild guess.
Format: Either or.
Summary: The tower has been reduced to one room, and it's chock full of monsters. Who you gonna call?
Warnings: Lots, the least of which being language...


[Well, ladies and gentlemen, shit dun hit the fan.]

[The tower has been condensed to one room with pretty much nothing in it. This post? Do whatever in it. General reactions. Go. ...As for Ienzo, he's just kind of sitting in the corner, head in his hands.]

Comments

[fifty]

[Now, normally America is good at fighting! It's just that his fighting often involves punching things, and getting close enough to punch any of these monsters leads to him being not nearly as good at it as he'd like to be.

He's still managing to hold them back, but he's getting increasingly surrounded. Give him a hand?]

[keepscalm]

[England has a sort of sixth sense for when America is in trouble. It was just kind of something you developed when you took care of an active child and couldn't keep an eye on them all the time.

England's abilities also don't rely on super strength, since he's not so lucky to have it. He's good with things like swords and guns. Unfortunately, there was no sword in his trunk. Just a knife, which rest assured is at the ready on his belt, if not in his hand.

Guns, though, he has one of those. And he's using it to help thin out the throng of monstrosities surrounding America.

Wordlessly, of course. He doesn't want to call attention to the possibility that he might actually be worried about his former charge.]

[fifty]

[Actually admitting he might have needed that help thinning out the crowd surrounding him is something America isn't about to admit to, so he doesn't say anything until he can actually close some distance between them and make it look somewhat like he just happens to be heading in that direction.]

Man, I wish my ammo didn't go wherever the rest of my stuff went.

[Casually, like it's just a minor problem not worth really caring about.]

[keepscalm]

[England didn't expect thanks, and probably would have felt weird receiving it, so he'd be grateful that America didn't remark on it. If he'd been thinking about it, that is. He's not though, really.

He grimaces a little.] Started carrying mine with me after a while. [Sometime after that freak experiment thing in October, actually.

He lifts a leg to thrust his foot outwards into one of the creatures approaching.] Are you in need of a weapon?

[fifty]

[America punches one in the face, in spite of his lack of super strength at the moment.]

I guess if you have one you're not using, that'd be pretty cool.

[keepscalm]

[He's using it, but he also has two weapons, and he'd prefer that America be armed if his super strength is out of commission.]

I imagine it shall be more effective than your current method.

[England shoves the barrel of his gun against an enemy that's gotten too close and fires point-blank, making sure the way is clear before he reaches out to offer his knife to America (in a way that won't get the other nation injured trying to grab it, of course).]

[fifty]

It would work if this place wasn't doing something weird again.

[America takes the knife and, as soon as he's got a good handle on it, uses it to cut through another monster approaching.]

Man, I'm gonna have to wash this outfit, like, ten times after all this.

[keepscalm]

I do expect that back at some point. [That's his favorite knife. But America is welcome to it as long as he needs it. Which England won't say because that's stupid-sounding.

He pistolwhips an enemy closing in from his side with an exasperated click of his tongue.] I don't know if there will be any salvaging of this one, to my utmost regret. [Seriously, he likes this shirt. But between the stains, the rips, and the smell...]

[princesspowerful]

[Molly was the same kind of fighter as America, maybe it comes with being American herself but she was finding it harder and harder to keep fighting these things and the over use of her powers was making her sleepy. Boy did she need to sleep for a few hours, hibernate even.]

What should we do?

[fifty]

[America kicks one in the face, sending it flying into a wall.]

Guess we don't have much of a choice, huh kiddo?

[Still, he's looking around for options.]

Find the nearest group of people not trying to eat us?

[princesspowerful]

[she pouts a bit at the kiddo part, not liking the connotation of her being small or much younger than he was, even if both of them were true, but she didn't say anything about it. Now was definitely not the time to worry about that.]

[Luckily she can hold her own and is able to fend off the enemies that come near, she knew not all tower residents were that lucky]

What if they keep coming and we're too tired to fight back?

[fifty]

Heroes don't get tired.

[Of course, he's just saying that, he's really starting to get exhausted, but he can at least try to convince himself of that. He kicks another monster in the face.]

They've gotta stop eventually.

[guiltapalooza]

[Oh, are those zombies? One of them is suddenly and abruptly decapitated, head sliding off and falling to the ground with a thunk as if detached with an invisible blade.

Willow is standing several feet back, one hand raised, and breathing heavily.] This is starting to get annoying instead of frightening, [she announces, and she really does look frustrated.]

[fifty]

[America jerks instinctively at the zombie's sudden lack of head, given its lack of a clear source, until the girl speaks up.]

It's gotta stop eventually, right?

[He's grinning, but obviously tired.]

[guiltapalooza]

Don't even ask that question, [she answers wryly.]

What do you say we fight our way to a wall and take a breather? I think I need one.

[fifty]

Shouldn't take that long.

[America's still smiling, trying to be optimistic, as he starts punching his way toward the closest wall.]

[guiltapalooza]

I've faced worse, [she agrees firmly, and uses the thought to bolster herself.

Not a physical fighter in the least, Willow supplies magical support. She has to keep her distance so her powers don't go away, but in general she's comfortable and ready with instantaneous spells: enemies tripping, turning on each other, or suddenly going blind, and the like. Minor cantrips only, because she really is worn out.]

[sovietbear]

[Ivan was doing his best to hold the creatures at bay, eyes narrowed at the beasts. He had his gun in one hand, pipe in the other, but really there were a lot of creatures and there were not quite as many people fighting them back. Of course he manages to find America in the midst, and he gave the blond a wry grin, slamming his pipe into a monster's face] Having fun, Amerika?

[fifty]

[America grins right back, using the butt of his empty gun to add a bit of extra weight to the next monster who gets punched in the way too many teeth.]

Having a blast, what about you?

[sovietbear]

Oh, I could not think of a better way to be spending my time. [He hissed moving to bludgeon one of the monsters to death with his pipe] How many do you think there are?

[fifty]

I dunno, a million?

[America kicks a monster in the stomach, knocking it into one of the others. It certainly seems like a million.]

This place better have some awesome food when this is all over, I'm starving.

[sovietbear]

Ah, then just enough for the both of us. [He smiled a little and let out a breath, swinging his pipe full force at the monster that Alfred had just kicked's head. You are always hungry though. I am surprised you lasted this long with this tower's terrible food.

[fifty]

Hey, sometimes it serves awesome stuff.

[America goes for the stomach--or he thinks it's the stomach--of the next monster.]

Come on, the Christmas food was awesome.

[sovietbear]

Not usually though. There was a time it was only serving sweets. That was terrible.

[Ivan frowned a little and let out a breath, swinging his pipe at another one of the monsters, this time to the spine, or what he hoped was the spine. Though given that it did not snap, hew as thinking not so much]

Christmas. Your Christmas or mine? Because the meals were not the same. [And with that he bludgeoned the monster in the face, then, to make up for it not going down with the first hit]