♡ ♤ Hallo ♢ ♧

♡ "The name's Lutz." ♡ [A 2P!Germany RP & ask blog! All art is done by @captkirkland, but muse credit to Mxxia where due! M!A: None || Muse Status: Single]

[caffelatteitaliano]

how are you holding up pasta boy? ready for some bad news?

What’s the point of being ready for bad news when you’re already aware of what it is. Luciano sits leaning against the wall of the side of doorway to the safe room, hand clutching his chest with a glazed over look. His heart hurt so bad, a tight clutch in his chest. His eyes glanced up slowly, glazed over, almost dazed. Someone….was at the door. He either was going to die or someone had found him, either way… he didn’t mind. His heart hurt to much to care at the moment. Maybe it would be better if it was the thing, then he wouldnt be in so much pain. 

[blackteaandroses]

“…..?” The suddenness of the Italians bolting out of the room and down the stairwell toward the first floor seemed to have caught the only two left in the room off of their guard. Even more sudden was his hand being grabbed as England couldn’t stop the loud yelp as he was practically jerked and pulled out of the room at their own rapid pace and down the stairwells.

“You don’t have to rip my arm out of the socket you know?! I’m coming– Dammit why are all of the Italians too damn fast?!”

While the others caught up, moving as quickly as they could down multiple flights of stairs and down the multiple halls toward and into the kitchen for the safe that awaited them. Upon all of them entering the room, England doubled over for a brief second with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. God just how out of shape was he to get to be winded like this just from a few flights of stairs?

“The safe–… It’s in that back corner–… I saw it earlier–….The code’s 5294–” Saying this through winded pants, they were finally on the home stretch now.

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

Do you hear that? It was the bickering that he was supposed to be doing instead of what the seemingly back-to-normal Dorian Gray had, unfortunately, the ability to vocalise. He could feel himself mentally rubbing his hands together divisively, anticipating the return of his vocal abilities- waiting for that invisible first punch thrown in order for him to release everything simmering beneath. He couldn’t wait for his lid to fly.

He rushed to the corner by the safe and input the code as fast as that corndog had said it.

He grabbed the item inside. 

[caffelatteitaliano]

Luciano sighed, shaking his head folding his arms as he stood nearby, face tired as he waited. He was so tired, his head hurt so bad and he wanted to just.. get this over with already. He turned towards the door, now taking point again as he headed towards it,looking more like he was stalking out of the room.  “Cmon boys, we are almost there, si?” To the basement.

[germanhimbo]

“Entschuldigung,” Lutz apologizes towards the England he grabbed onto, chuckling softly.

However, upon the group making it down to the kitchen and therefore the safe, the German made sure to keep everyone in sight the best he could. After that, it seemed like they were all off again and heading towards the basement. Everything is moving so fast, but surely everything would be alright, right? They could truly fix all of this, right...?

Right?

“What is in the basement, the clock?” Germany asks as they’re all heading down the stairs.

[caffelatteitaliano]

how are you holding up pasta boy? ready for some bad news?

What’s the point of being ready for bad news when you’re already aware of what it is. Luciano sits leaning against the wall of the side of doorway to the safe room, hand clutching his chest with a glazed over look. His heart hurt so bad, a tight clutch in his chest. His eyes glanced up slowly, glazed over, almost dazed. Someone….was at the door. He either was going to die or someone had found him, either way… he didn’t mind. His heart hurt to much to care at the moment. Maybe it would be better if it was the thing, then he wouldnt be in so much pain. 

[blackteaandroses]

In a way, it was surreal to know that not even what was likely just only a few hours ago, England had no trust in this man whatsoever. Now, something in him flipped to cause that to change. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was, unable to stop the faint hint of a chuckle at the mere mention of magic, as well as the question as if he could use it in turn.

“That’s because there is powerful magic at work here, and yes, I can use it as well. As for what the sort of magic it is, I still haven’t figured that out. But yes, that’s why that ‘Bible’ is so important. It’s the key to turn back time. Though. I’m glad that I was at least able to explain what was going on to the best of my ability, you needed to know.”

Even though England wasn’t entirely sure just how much magic he had left, at the very least, he knew he had enough for one more fight in him should it come down to it. As they entered the room, there was something so foreboding about it now that caused his stomach to twist into knots. Likely from the urgency of what they had to do.

“Search everywhere. Lutz, you come with me and look through the bookshelves. Romano, Luciano. Look under the tables, sofas, wherever something can be hidden under. We’re looking for a small box, correct?” Gesturing for the German to follow as he made his way to the back of the room and began his own search, shuffling through the shelves and looking behind the books. It had to be in this room. There was no reason for Oliver to lie to them, was there?

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

At this point, tasks like finding this box for a key seemed mundane compared to the grotesque views and hauntingly jarring screams that accompanied that walking bolt of grey C-grade faux leather. Oh- not to mention the entire identity crisis that Jekyll-and-Hyde seemed to also be going through right now. If it weren’t for the explicit display of inanimate “humans” he had been subjected to at a vulnerable state, Romano had to say that the smile was, by far, the most disturbing thing he had has the misfortune of witnessing thus far. Sure- there’s that slasher demon thing that moves like a Broadway puppet but is unnervingly adept with its, unfortunately, decent motor skills and is questionably smarter than a dog exuding the same energy as one ready to play fetch except with their corpses. 

Dio poverissimo cristo santo- He was genuinely sick of this shit by now. 

Magic now too? Sure- the sudden amicable shift in colonised-hundreds-but-hardly-uses-any-spice-in-their-food’s personality was magical to say the least because there was no way in hell that that bastard could suddenly stop penetrating himself with a stick in his ass and become this friendly. Even he hadn’t had that drastic of a change- possibly. But, at this point, magic mansion, monsters, and immortal beings? Magic would be the easiest explanation to it all and he despised that. It seemed to easy but, sometimes, the easiest explanation is the best.

He hoped his body language exuded his displeasure with this entire situation which, he has come to recognise, was partly his fault.

Interesting.

He pocketed the small object into his pocket and moved on to search other areas of the room. 

Finding a box shouldn’t be this hard. It would help if it was ornate but you can’t get everything so they have to terribly settle for playing Where’s Wally with a box that matches the rest of the interior decor. He huffed. Why does a monster get this much space in a mansion with decent furnishing but aim to pummel its guests. What a terrible host.

He mentally kicked himself for carrying out this task in a leisurely manner. If he were actually working right now he would’ve been let go by now. Holy fuck, Lorenzo, get a hold of yourself and stop being lazy. You’ll turn into a caricature of an airhead who takes siestas all day.

He hurried his pace and turned over each piece of furniture, item, anything in his corner.

They just need to turn back time after somehow using the book with some magic.

Romano should probably start trying to repent after destroying the Bible.

[caffelatteitaliano]

Huh. This room, this room this room. Luciano stood still, looking around it almost bewildered. It looked so familiar. Yeah. This room. He sort of idly spun, as he took in all the walls. This room, the throne. huh. Everything about it.  Slowly his spinning stopped, body facing the closed off curtain, and he started stepping towards it. The place no one was really looking. This place was calling to him,and reaching out he pulled back the curtain.  He stopped when he found it, a box. Slowly he reached a foot inside, kicking the box towards him, before he used his shoe to kick the same box out towards the center towards the room.

[germanhimbo]

This room was odd to say the least about it, blinking as he took it in. With everyone looking around, Lutz got an odd tingle at the back of his neck.

Like he should make sure he does something while everybody looks around.

But what is it exactly..?

He thinks on that, but then it slowly comes through his mind in a wave of a thought process, like water pulling up onto a shore.

Germany steps over to the door and holds it shut, testing to see if it locks, but at the very least keeps his hand there. It gives him a small piece of mind as the other three search.

[blackteaandroses]

England paused mid-search with the mere familiar sound of wood scratching as it was dragged against the floor, turning around to see the small box now resting in the middle of the floor in between all of them. So it was under one of the couches it seemed, likely whomever put it there didn’t think anyone would actually check under there.

“Well then… Good job.”

Walking away from the bookshelves and glancing briefly toward Lutz, at least he had the sense to guard the door. At least one of them had to, better to be on the safe side just in case something happened.

Bending down and picking up the box, brows furrowing. Of course whomever did this wouldn’t make it easy and would have it locked.

“Fuck it.”

Seeing no other option, England threw the box down as hard as he could onto the floor at his feet. The wood was flimsy enough for it to smash into pieces to reveal the key inside. Quickly picking it up and placing it in his pocket, gesturing for the others to follow while rushing back toward the door. “We’ve got it, let’s go!”

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

Oh for fucks sake- finally!

Romano practically bolted out of the room once Mr. Worldwide over there mutilated the box and found a key. Huh- when’d he learn to run this well? As much as he would pride himself in his agility, he’s not one for running normally.

He skidded to a stop.

Wait- where were they going again? The kitchen? Yeah. Okay. He gestured for the others to hurry up. They had no time left- they haven’t had any time for a while actually- this was simply an incomplete epilogue. The real story would start once they turned back time. Then, and only then, could he repent and, hopefully, make it up to not-Feliciano. 

[caffelatteitaliano]

Luciano practically gasped, following after Romano just as quick. Shit, it was way to dangerous for the other Italian to just jolt off like that. He nearly stumbling as he tried to catch up with him, hissing out a couple curses as he did.  “Wait for us, you’re going to run us into one of those things.” He knew the other was already well on his way, he could only really follow and grumble as he went after him, equally not bothering to wait for the other two.

[germanhimbo]

Well, suddenly Italians were fleeing like they had dogs nipping on their heels. Should he be running? He could only figure that they wanted to pick up the pace, and so, he grabbed ahold of the Englishman’s hand with a quickness. He was the one with the key after all, and if he was holding onto him, he wouldn’t get left behind.

With such, Lutz began to start running after them. Actually, it was a bit more of a sustainable jog, but still. Down to the kitchen they go!

[caffelatteitaliano]

how are you holding up pasta boy? ready for some bad news?

What’s the point of being ready for bad news when you’re already aware of what it is. Luciano sits leaning against the wall of the side of doorway to the safe room, hand clutching his chest with a glazed over look. His heart hurt so bad, a tight clutch in his chest. His eyes glanced up slowly, glazed over, almost dazed. Someone….was at the door. He either was going to die or someone had found him, either way… he didn’t mind. His heart hurt to much to care at the moment. Maybe it would be better if it was the thing, then he wouldnt be in so much pain. 

[blackteaandroses]

In a way, it was surreal to know that not even what was likely just only a few hours ago, England had no trust in this man whatsoever. Now, something in him flipped to cause that to change. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was, unable to stop the faint hint of a chuckle at the mere mention of magic, as well as the question as if he could use it in turn.

“That’s because there is powerful magic at work here, and yes, I can use it as well. As for what the sort of magic it is, I still haven’t figured that out. But yes, that’s why that ‘Bible’ is so important. It’s the key to turn back time. Though. I’m glad that I was at least able to explain what was going on to the best of my ability, you needed to know.”

Even though England wasn’t entirely sure just how much magic he had left, at the very least, he knew he had enough for one more fight in him should it come down to it. As they entered the room, there was something so foreboding about it now that caused his stomach to twist into knots. Likely from the urgency of what they had to do.

“Search everywhere. Lutz, you come with me and look through the bookshelves. Romano, Luciano. Look under the tables, sofas, wherever something can be hidden under. We’re looking for a small box, correct?” Gesturing for the German to follow as he made his way to the back of the room and began his own search, shuffling through the shelves and looking behind the books. It had to be in this room. There was no reason for Oliver to lie to them, was there?

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

At this point, tasks like finding this box for a key seemed mundane compared to the grotesque views and hauntingly jarring screams that accompanied that walking bolt of grey C-grade faux leather. Oh- not to mention the entire identity crisis that Jekyll-and-Hyde seemed to also be going through right now. If it weren’t for the explicit display of inanimate “humans” he had been subjected to at a vulnerable state, Romano had to say that the smile was, by far, the most disturbing thing he had has the misfortune of witnessing thus far. Sure- there’s that slasher demon thing that moves like a Broadway puppet but is unnervingly adept with its, unfortunately, decent motor skills and is questionably smarter than a dog exuding the same energy as one ready to play fetch except with their corpses. 

Dio poverissimo cristo santo- He was genuinely sick of this shit by now. 

Magic now too? Sure- the sudden amicable shift in colonised-hundreds-but-hardly-uses-any-spice-in-their-food’s personality was magical to say the least because there was no way in hell that that bastard could suddenly stop penetrating himself with a stick in his ass and become this friendly. Even he hadn’t had that drastic of a change- possibly. But, at this point, magic mansion, monsters, and immortal beings? Magic would be the easiest explanation to it all and he despised that. It seemed to easy but, sometimes, the easiest explanation is the best.

He hoped his body language exuded his displeasure with this entire situation which, he has come to recognise, was partly his fault.

Interesting.

He pocketed the small object into his pocket and moved on to search other areas of the room. 

Finding a box shouldn’t be this hard. It would help if it was ornate but you can’t get everything so they have to terribly settle for playing Where’s Wally with a box that matches the rest of the interior decor. He huffed. Why does a monster get this much space in a mansion with decent furnishing but aim to pummel its guests. What a terrible host.

He mentally kicked himself for carrying out this task in a leisurely manner. If he were actually working right now he would’ve been let go by now. Holy fuck, Lorenzo, get a hold of yourself and stop being lazy. You’ll turn into a caricature of an airhead who takes siestas all day.

He hurried his pace and turned over each piece of furniture, item, anything in his corner.

They just need to turn back time after somehow using the book with some magic.

Romano should probably start trying to repent after destroying the Bible.

[caffelatteitaliano]

Huh. This room, this room this room. Luciano stood still, looking around it almost bewildered. It looked so familiar. Yeah. This room. He sort of idly spun, as he took in all the walls. This room, the throne. huh. Everything about it.  Slowly his spinning stopped, body facing the closed off curtain, and he started stepping towards it. The place no one was really looking. This place was calling to him,and reaching out he pulled back the curtain.  He stopped when he found it, a box. Slowly he reached a foot inside, kicking the box towards him, before he used his shoe to kick the same box out towards the center towards the room.

[germanhimbo]

This room was odd to say the least about it, blinking as he took it in. With everyone looking around, Lutz got an odd tingle at the back of his neck.

Like he should make sure he does something while everybody looks around.

But what is it exactly..?

He thinks on that, but then it slowly comes through his mind in a wave of a thought process, like water pulling up onto a shore.

Germany steps over to the door and holds it shut, testing to see if it locks, but at the very least keeps his hand there. It gives him a small piece of mind as the other three search.

[caffelatteitaliano]

how are you holding up pasta boy? ready for some bad news?

What’s the point of being ready for bad news when you’re already aware of what it is. Luciano sits leaning against the wall of the side of doorway to the safe room, hand clutching his chest with a glazed over look. His heart hurt so bad, a tight clutch in his chest. His eyes glanced up slowly, glazed over, almost dazed. Someone….was at the door. He either was going to die or someone had found him, either way… he didn’t mind. His heart hurt to much to care at the moment. Maybe it would be better if it was the thing, then he wouldnt be in so much pain. 

[blackteaandroses]

The display of the combination of love and forgiveness for everything that happened up to this point, while welcome in a Hellscape such a this, at the same time made England realize more and more that he was essentially emotionally alone. Those that he cared about the most were gone, one of them being his own fault. The others, he never found out what happened to them. Now, there was the added burden that seemed to have been thrust onto him after Oliver’s death. At the very least, it seemed as though he was actually being listened to on what they needed to do next. All he could really do was steel himself as they moved forward, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t done it before.

Quite the contrary, it was something the Brit was used to.

Splitting up wasn’t an option, there was too high of a chance of one or both of the pairs of 2 could be attacked. England didn’t know how well his magic would hold up while in the state he was in, and Lutz was already injured. Despite the faint snort from Luciano’s comment, he wasn’t sure if while such was true, if he could handle another attack from that Thing.

“Romano, you can lean on me if you need assistance. I can at least help in that way. And yes. The attic should be first, it would be a waste of time to do it the other way around. If the four of us search the room all at once, we should be able to find that box quickly. We should get moving before it finds us again.”

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

Romano waved his hand dismissively.

He clicked his tongue.

Unless he wholly missed an embellished decalled card inviting him to a pity party, the looks and spoken “concern” for him was puzzling at best as, to the extent of his knowledge, he was not involved in anything that would cause him severe harm, garnering this much - what he assumed was - worry. Telling apart genuine concern and sarcastic pity was as difficult for him as a tritoniapic person attempting to discern the details in pop art. This is why he loathed social interactions and entered one of the most cut-throat industries; everyone said what they needed to say, holding nothing back. Choux pastry over there was currently the most threatening because he was disgustingly built and radiated the patience of a saint.

Romano is aware that he can be dramatic but thus far he’d been acting almost amicably with most— That was a lie. One or two people. Was he walking awkwardly? Sure- he had moments of vertigo with the occasional step but, other than that, the only pain he felt was the ache of voidness in his chest buzzing in rhythm with his head and his throat that felt like it was meticuolously rubbed against a coconut scraper. He knows how his throat came to be but why’d his head feel like he’d been hit with a sledgehammer?

Also, why was that choux bleeding from one armpit?

He exhaled sharply.

Right now, determining his relationships with these morons was the least concerning thing and surviving was utmost priority.

Although this place may give him a heart attack solely because of that Thing, the architectural design is terrible. Sifting through his transplanted memories allowed him to come to the conclusion that this mansion was no better designed that a 3rd grader who got their hands on a blueprint. Thankfully the mansion did not seem to be a maze and it was quite straightforward. Room layout should be about the same, there was a basement area, and the stairs are… just stairs.

He kept his pace, speeding up slightly to silently remark that he’s fine, and nudged his head encouraging the others to do the same. They were not playing team tag; they were playing predator and prey with one (or was it two?) sanguinary beings that could easily snap their necks.

There was a reason why he hated horror games. Uncannily human-like creatures with no humanity frightened him.

Porco Dio.

He stumbled over himself and cast his glance downwards, ears turning red at the sudden resurfacing of the memory. He hissed. Who thought- why’d he-

He should probably apologize to Lutz.

[caffelatteitaliano]

Luciano glanced around at their group. This was going to be fun, the long march to the attic and then back. Slowly Luciano glanced at the group, before turning his body towards the attic hands on his hips. He was arguably in the best shape, second being Arthur, best thing to do was to take the lead. If someone was getting hit it would be him. “Cmon, we don’t have all night, I’d like to regain our companions as soon as possible, si?” He started walking ahead, pausing before he glanced back at the others, a anxious but determined look on his face. “Let’s go.”

[germanhimbo]

Lutz sighs as the group continues forward, his eyes start to dart every which way. They’d had too peaceful a last few minutes.. which, he’s thankful for, but every passing second was starting to feel like they were striking down towards something else.

Maybe God was just gracing them because of how much they’ve lost today. He could only hope that it’d be the case.

Yet still, they carry on, but his interest is a bit piqued by the fact that Luciano just said they could still help their friends. His head perks up, and his eyes widen.. can they really do that? Really? He was suspecting it in his head, but no one has explicitly stated it out yet. But, if that’s genuinely the case then they should really get a move on, and fast.

“Yes, sir!” Lutz said out playfully towards the other.

[blackteaandroses]

England merely nodded his agreement as the group made their trek up the additional flights of stairs they needed to traverse to meet their first goal at least. Luciano at the front, Romano in the middle, Lutz and England heading up the back. He even had to admit to himself that it was far too quiet, unless somehow they were being kept safe for the mere race to save their friends.

While England on one hand wasn’t sure what all they knew, he did at least recall the German mention that he didn’t know nor understand why the keys, the ‘Bible’, or the grandfather clock were so necessary and so vital to save everyone that they have already lost. The Englishman didn’t know what all Luciano, Romano, or Oliver knew. Oliver in particular seemed to know far more than what he was letting on, though that didn’t really matter much now anyhow. They couldn’t grill him for information anymore.

Such was likely going to change anyway once the new loop began.

Taking a brief glance toward Lutz as the group rounded the third floor and made their way up to the fourth, speaking just loud enough to where he could hear him.

“You said that you didn’t know why these keys, that ‘Bible’, or why the clock is so important, am I right?” England started, turning his attention back toward the stairs briefly while they continued to climb before continuing on with a hint of a smile. It was only fair that Lutz knew as well.

After all, in the short time that England knew him, he at least proved himself to be dependable and for now, trustworthy. Though at the same time, something else told him such.

“Once we actually get the keys, we can get to the grandfather clock and use that ‘Bible’ to turn back time. While you and I will likely forget everything that’s happened in this loop… A new loop will start, but everyone will be alive. With luck… Luciano and Romano will remember everything that has happened, so we won’t be coming back in blind. And this time… We could all actually work together and get out without losing anyone. Does that make any sense?”

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

If he had a choice he would let Feliciano remain dead but a small part of him would sacrifice himself to get it them all back, especially Vene.

He knows -  well over 50% sure - that that Feliciano wasn’t the Feliciano so he needed to stop antagonizing someone who was probably innocent. The only reason his doubt lingered stubbornly was because this Feliciano was clearly hiding something and no one in the world was that disgustingly naïve about the world and presented their personality as such for it to even be genuine. Too much of something screamed fabrication in order to deceive.

That included his own reactions.

He sighed. 

He felt some semblance of pity for the buff human version of a golden retriever and his ignorance about this place. It didn’t seem as if he was feigning the lack of knowledge so Romano could mostly believe in the genuineness of his questions unlike Feliciano. Unfortunately, he got some spotted set of a virtually immortal being and a confusing one at that. Sure- it kinda helped with understanding some things (especially this mansion) but he can’t exactly say anything.

Curse his faulty throat. No- actually blame his Nonno for that. He’s not going to blame himself for something that wasn’t his fault.

He listened intently to used-to-use-arsenic-in-green-fabric’s information dump. 

Romano furrowed his brows.

They don’t have the Bible- especially after he had ripped it up. The only thing they had was the contract and how would it work? Was there going to be some cringeworthy cutscene in which they had to offer a piece of paper to a clock or was it just automatic and god forbid magical. Nothing made sense in this place nor did the other set of memories but since he can’t vocally express his distaste for the lack of logic and rationality that was surrounding him, he’ll settle to narrating in his mind to an unknown audience consisting of him and maybe God or some fucked up Truman Show type scenario. First off, how did he even get here; Second, why was this Feliciano different from his Feliciano; Third, where did the other people come from because - no offense - they had dated outfits reminiscent of the mid-1900s but paid no heed in mind and if these people were a group of historical enactors or cosplayers, they would have similar styles. Did he already get answers to these or did he actually get slammed with a sledgehammer and “conveniently” forgot. He had an inkling in his gut for some answers to his questions but it still doesn’t make any sense. 

The piece of paper was burning a hole on his chest.

Last of all, hedgehog brows was disturbing him. There was less pompous aura radiating off of the man and, with that, it seemed like the holier-than-thou attitude had suddenly disappeared. Did something happen to him? Romano would be lying if he said that he didn’t change a bit after tastelessly receiving some of other him’s memories so did something similar happen to Imperialism over here or was it another thing they had to worry about. He shuddered. To be honest, the most concerning was he was smiling. 

Dio cane〜! They sure took their time getting to the attic. Who knew two flights of stairs and some walking would take this long? It wasn’t as if they had a coglione trying to kill them. 

He practically ran up the last step on the staircase.

Wonderful. Another room, another hallway that continued past the corner, and more chances for them to get strung in the least fun way.

Another thought popped into his mind:

Why was this Feliciano so adamant on keeping secrets? He was already no better than his brother.

[caffelatteitaliano]

Once he finally made it to the top floor, he stretched his legs out with a sigh. Stairs, a hell invention meant to kill his legs every chance it got. Surveying the top floor, he turned his attention back to the rest of the group, moving to side to let them file up.  Once at the top, he looked around before facing the rest of them again, arms folded in thought.  “Shouldnt be hard, if what everyone says is true, we need to go in there and there should be a key, then we can just run *all* the way back down.” He sighed, fucking stairs.

[germanhimbo]

Finally.. something of an explanation, and Lutz appreciated it quite a bit, smiling back towards the Englishman. There was something familiar in who he knows to be Arthur’s smile, the warmness of it and the way it seemed so hopeful, even for just a brief moment. It reminds him of someone. “Ja, that does make sense. I did not realize that there was.. a way to turn back time, I suppose? I just hope they do really remember.. this all sounds crazy to be honest, like its magic. Though...” Lutz looks towards the rest of the group. “..I guess the craziest plans are the ones that work the best, and we don’t have anything to lose by trying.” Germany lets out a breath of a laugh, and looks back towards the Brit. “And you do use magic, don’t you, England?” Lutz doesn’t particularly know why he said it like that, but it happened. He thinks he means it to be endearing, and to let him know that the group they have left isn’t entirely powerless. Maybe it was the fact that he merely does know that the other is something of a wizard, not the extent of it really, but its something everyone knows a little about. But there’s something in the back of his head.. like a memory he can’t really find, something that was said to him once.  It draws his eyes back towards Luciano, the smile still sitting on his face, as he’s determined to fix this. They can figure this out. If anyone could, it’d be his Veneziano... and he has his faith. Once they all forget except these two, he trusts he’d do his best to do the right thing. However, soon, his thoughts are cut short as the group finally makes it up to the attic, and the German finds himself looking around.

[caffelatteitaliano]

how are you holding up pasta boy? ready for some bad news?

What’s the point of being ready for bad news when you’re already aware of what it is. Luciano sits leaning against the wall of the side of doorway to the safe room, hand clutching his chest with a glazed over look. His heart hurt so bad, a tight clutch in his chest. His eyes glanced up slowly, glazed over, almost dazed. Someone….was at the door. He either was going to die or someone had found him, either way… he didn’t mind. His heart hurt to much to care at the moment. Maybe it would be better if it was the thing, then he wouldnt be in so much pain. 

[blackteaandroses]

The display of the combination of love and forgiveness for everything that happened up to this point, while welcome in a Hellscape such a this, at the same time made England realize more and more that he was essentially emotionally alone. Those that he cared about the most were gone, one of them being his own fault. The others, he never found out what happened to them. Now, there was the added burden that seemed to have been thrust onto him after Oliver’s death. At the very least, it seemed as though he was actually being listened to on what they needed to do next. All he could really do was steel himself as they moved forward, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t done it before.

Quite the contrary, it was something the Brit was used to.

Splitting up wasn’t an option, there was too high of a chance of one or both of the pairs of 2 could be attacked. England didn’t know how well his magic would hold up while in the state he was in, and Lutz was already injured. Despite the faint snort from Luciano’s comment, he wasn’t sure if while such was true, if he could handle another attack from that Thing.

“Romano, you can lean on me if you need assistance. I can at least help in that way. And yes. The attic should be first, it would be a waste of time to do it the other way around. If the four of us search the room all at once, we should be able to find that box quickly. We should get moving before it finds us again.”

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

Romano waved his hand dismissively.

He clicked his tongue.

Unless he wholly missed an embellished decalled card inviting him to a pity party, the looks and spoken “concern” for him was puzzling at best as, to the extent of his knowledge, he was not involved in anything that would cause him severe harm, garnering this much - what he assumed was - worry. Telling apart genuine concern and sarcastic pity was as difficult for him as a tritoniapic person attempting to discern the details in pop art. This is why he loathed social interactions and entered one of the most cut-throat industries; everyone said what they needed to say, holding nothing back. Choux pastry over there was currently the most threatening because he was disgustingly built and radiated the patience of a saint.

Romano is aware that he can be dramatic but thus far he’d been acting almost amicably with most— That was a lie. One or two people. Was he walking awkwardly? Sure- he had moments of vertigo with the occasional step but, other than that, the only pain he felt was the ache of voidness in his chest buzzing in rhythm with his head and his throat that felt like it was meticuolously rubbed against a coconut scraper. He knows how his throat came to be but why’d his head feel like he’d been hit with a sledgehammer?

Also, why was that choux bleeding from one armpit?

He exhaled sharply.

Right now, determining his relationships with these morons was the least concerning thing and surviving was utmost priority.

Although this place may give him a heart attack solely because of that Thing, the architectural design is terrible. Sifting through his transplanted memories allowed him to come to the conclusion that this mansion was no better designed that a 3rd grader who got their hands on a blueprint. Thankfully the mansion did not seem to be a maze and it was quite straightforward. Room layout should be about the same, there was a basement area, and the stairs are… just stairs.

He kept his pace, speeding up slightly to silently remark that he’s fine, and nudged his head encouraging the others to do the same. They were not playing team tag; they were playing predator and prey with one (or was it two?) sanguinary beings that could easily snap their necks.

There was a reason why he hated horror games. Uncannily human-like creatures with no humanity frightened him.

Porco Dio.

He stumbled over himself and cast his glance downwards, ears turning red at the sudden resurfacing of the memory. He hissed. Who thought- why’d he-

He should probably apologize to Lutz.

[caffelatteitaliano]

Luciano glanced around at their group. This was going to be fun, the long march to the attic and then back. Slowly Luciano glanced at the group, before turning his body towards the attic hands on his hips. He was arguably in the best shape, second being Arthur, best thing to do was to take the lead. If someone was getting hit it would be him. “Cmon, we don’t have all night, I’d like to regain our companions as soon as possible, si?” He started walking ahead, pausing before he glanced back at the others, a anxious but determined look on his face. “Let’s go.”

[germanhimbo]

Lutz sighs as the group continues forward, his eyes start to dart every which way. They’d had too peaceful a last few minutes.. which, he’s thankful for, but every passing second was starting to feel like they were striking down towards something else.

Maybe God was just gracing them because of how much they’ve lost today. He could only hope that it’d be the case.

Yet still, they carry on, but his interest is a bit piqued by the fact that Luciano just said they could still help their friends. His head perks up, and his eyes widen.. can they really do that? Really? He was suspecting it in his head, but no one has explicitly stated it out yet. But, if that’s genuinely the case then they should really get a move on, and fast.

“Yes, sir!” Lutz said out playfully towards the other.

[caffelatteitaliano]

how are you holding up pasta boy? ready for some bad news?

What’s the point of being ready for bad news when you’re already aware of what it is. Luciano sits leaning against the wall of the side of doorway to the safe room, hand clutching his chest with a glazed over look. His heart hurt so bad, a tight clutch in his chest. His eyes glanced up slowly, glazed over, almost dazed. Someone….was at the door. He either was going to die or someone had found him, either way… he didn’t mind. His heart hurt to much to care at the moment. Maybe it would be better if it was the thing, then he wouldnt be in so much pain. 

[germanhimbo]

The other two arrived at the door around the same time Romano did, and Lutz personally couldn’t wait any longer to look for his Veneziano. Germany did not push past him or anything of that regard, but he did lean his arm forward next to him in order to move the door open, only to see… “Luciano!” Lutz called that louder than he would’ve liked to admit, but right now he couldn’t find it in him to care. He ran directly over to the Italian and fell down to his knees, scooping the other man up into his arms with such a relieved sound it nearly came out like a choked sob.

“…It’s okay, we’re here. Its the 1P England and Romano.. and me,” he mutters quietly to his best friend. Its to let him have any semblance of levity at all in this terrible problem they’ve all found themselves cast into. Lutz knows fully-well Luciano must be going through so much its terrible. They all are, but thank the air he’s breathing that Luciano is still breathing himself. He.. he was so worried that he was just going to find another body, and one that he definitely wasn’t sure how he’d even be able to deal with. “We’re going to figure it out okay? We’re gonna fix it.. just try and stand for me.”

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

Upon the trio making their way toward the final area that they hadn’t checked yet, even before England had a chance to react or even attempt to process just what he was seeing, Lutz was already rushing through door toward whom he could only guess was Luciano.

Judging from his reaction, then that meant…

Oh my god he was actually still alive.

Those stifled sobs and choked words were so difficult to listen to, but at the same time despite how he himself was feeling, relief washed over the entirety of himself. Somehow, by some grace of whatever higher power that seemed to be taunting and laughing at them through the entirety of their time here thus far, chose to show them some semblance of whatever form of mercy that this could even be called.

He was still alive…

Thank goodness… Luci is okay….

“…W-What…?” England spoke in no louder than a murmur, the headache that was slowly beginning to wane came back with a vengeance. Leaning back with his back pressed against the wall near the door’s entrance, all the while unable to take his eyes off of the two strangers that he and Romano had to come to rely on. Despite being able to see straight, he quickly shook his head at least in an attempt to refocus. 

Why did it feel as though his heart was trying to claw it’s way out of his chest again?

He didn’t know what was happening, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. Taking a breath, the Brit spoke in a hushed tone but just loud enough he hoped to be heard.

“Luciano…Are you okay? Do you need any more assistance in getting up?”

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

“Ciao.”

It was only a whisper but Romano had finally greeted him.

He cautiously stepped foot inside, taking note of how his hands trembled as he entered the vicinity of others he had jeopardized. He did not fortify himself for this.

As much as he would have liked to remain ignorant to the notion that the crass excuse for a mop was not acting as he was earlier, the lack of conflict between them was bitterly welcome. However, he would still not ignore how the man - who clearly had ran a Beatlemania blog in his years - occasionally had a glazed look in his eyes, listening to what thoughts raced in his head. 

His eyes darted over to the sudden blur of movement.

In any other moment, he would have listened with a deaf ear. He would have looked sanctimoniously, as a hypocrite, to neglect the expansive, mortal sensation threatening to imprison him with the reality of his immaturity unable to misdirect it into rage, weakly disguising his brittle heart.

A silent current of misery flowed, inching throughout his body, chronically afflicting him after Veneziano’s death. It pained him to be an accomplice to ending the gaily presence of a man whose smile was as enthusiastic as a sickroom of whom harboured critical knowledge kept secret. But, now, it was perplexing how this private exhibit of those two’s raw emotions offered placidity if even for a second.

Love flies out of the window as quick as the eye can blink, but the scene beneath him displayed a moment of liberation and happiness held within the arms of two lonely people. Those two seemed to be freed from fear and uneasiness even if it was only for a second. This nauseating display of love managed to arouse his empathy than had anything he’d experienced before. It frightened Romano that he had even chosen to accept a moment of ease (and, perhaps, a bit of sympathy towards these strangers.) Even at a distance, physically and mentally, these moments intimidated him - mansion or not; he was intolerably afraid that these moments would bring a connection between him and humanity, embellishing unto an extraordinary phenomenon of genuine kindness. Romano had yet to cope.

He inhaled deeply. His shoulders dropping back to its relaxed state that would only last for a minute more.

They had to choose the expedient of braving along, find the keys, and return once more.

“Vai.”

With a flick of his hand, he staggered out of the room that offered them a moment of respite into the halls of sincere Weltschmerz. 

Every fibre of his being agreed upon one thing:

This chapter was coming to an end.

[caffelatteitaliano]

Luciano clung to Lutz like his life depended on it. Like he was the only thing left in the world. His body wracked with tiny sobs as he tried to calm himself in front of the other. He needed to calm down, to relax, but it was hard, especially when Lutz was right there holding him like that.  He really only pulled away when he heard the tiny ciao, glancing towards the others, well.. other in the room. Using Lutz to help him stand, he shakily held onto him, glancing towards England, a odd amount of relief as well as pain on his face. If Oliver wasn’t here.. then he knows what happened.  “Si, I can- I can stand.” He was a lil shaky on his feet, but he had to keep some pride. “We…we have a thing we have to do, si? Let’s go..” With that he started towards the room door, after Romano, his steps still a little shaky. However, once he caught sight of Romano, his hand reached out anyway, grabbing onto the sleeve of a shirt like a child might a older sibling. He wasn’t his sibling, but he cared so much about 1p Romano, even if he didn’t realize this wasn’t his. He gave him such a oddly soft, vulnerable look for a second, before letting him go folding his hands in front of himself awkwardly for letting himself have that moment. “Si, we have to get to the kitchen..”

[germanhimbo]

Lutz found himself so incredibly thankful for this one grace, but he did breathe out soon enough.

They still had a job to do.

He doesn’t particularly know what all these keys will help beyond getting the rest of them out of here, but the others have been talking like they’re able to do so much more. Somewhere.. he feels like they should, but he isn’t even sure where that inkling is sitting in his stomach. It’s certainly not Ludwig.. it feels akin to deja vu, but somehow even more vague than that feeling already is. It being anything like deja vu is a more concerning thought than he’d like to admit, he’s never been in a circumstance similar to this ever before in his life. He’s sure of it.

His concern aside, they have a job to do.. and him having doubts about his memories isn’t going to get them to the kitchen any faster. So, he helps Luciano stand as he steadies himself beside him, and starts the trek.

“…Was ist in der küche— ah, the kitchen anyway? Is it a key? Like in the attic?”

[blackteaandroses]

This one small bout of peace between them was surprisingly welcoming, given the mere notion that at least with the display given by Lutz and Luciano was enough to at least give the Englishman a small glimmer of hope. As difficult as it was, that hope and each other were all they had left. Both of their groups had lost so many of their friends, and now, in an almost ironic twist of fate, all of their lives rested on their shoulders despite all of the arguing and conflict.

Even as he and Lutz helped Luciano to his feet and with using his friend as a steadying force, England couldn’t help but notice the look that the Italian gave him. A look of knowing pity. So, he likely knew that Oliver was now gone too. It was the same with Romano, acting briefly as though he was a scared child clinging onto their elder sibling for protection.

However, once the kitchen was brought up, he slowly shook his head despite the pounding at the front of his skull. Carefully pushing himself off of the wall and taking a second to steady himself in turn, he took in a deep breath before speaking. “We still have to go to the attic first. it would be best to go up and work our way back down and to stay together. Oliver said that the key in the attic was hidden, right? Once we find it, we know the code to the safe in the kitchen. Italy said that the clock is in the cell room at the end of the first floor.

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

Romano flinched when this person, Luciano, whose nature radiated leagues apart from the face he peculiarly had extreme similarities with other- He blinked hard. No, not going through this again. He flinched when he felt a tug on his shirt.

He could have ignored it and faced forward but reflexes won over his attempt at control.

He looked to his side preparing to bring forth one of his scowls but he was met with something jarringly alien. 

It was harrowingly heart-rending.

Romano let go as fast as he had done the deed.

His body moved on its own.

He doesn’t know why he did it but it felt necessary. It would have been so much simpler if he had just stood there - exposed to a look no one had granted him before- and pretended not to be aware of the vulnerability and necessity for undoubtedly unknown emotions that Romano was sure to be a dangerous form of storge, betraying this Luciano’s expressions too plainly despite he had, initially, no desire to utter even a single breath of vulnerability. Though, if he had not reciprocated even a bit from that nagging urge inside of his head that echoed the sentiment that it was fine to be around the other because they were family (what a foreign word) it would have been more than distasteful.

Back to the task at hand- He would usually be inept with navigating unfamiliar terrain but he would have to thank how prominent anything related to kitchens remained in his memory - or, rather, in other him’s complicated relationship regarding acquiring said memories - though, lingering on the thought was one of the trivialities at the moment. However, that was step two. They had to go to the attic first and find a box. He was certain it contained the key. Romano took it upon himself to stand further upfront of the group, guided by the déjà vu simmering in his stomach, to walk through the foreignly familiar halls of the wretched place. The kitchen was not far and it contained one of the most important objects they needed. He was not sure how keys exactly played into time travel but that strawberry crinkle… Oliver, who seemed to have more knowledge than he let on, and - a wave of nausea and uneasiness slammed through him - Feliciano insinuated that it was essential to the clock that would grant them another start. No, a reset of these horrors.

He wondered if his voice would come back. He scratched at his throat. 

It hurt like a bitch.

[caffelatteitaliano]

The hug honestly meant so much more than Romano probably realized. A hug from someone who had done so much for him, who didn’t even remember. Not that Luciano realized that.  Still he leaned into it more than he should have, his curl crinkling a bit at the overwhelming emotion. Once the other pulled back however, it was back to business. Work as usual. Listening to the comments around the group, he felt something, something weird in the pit of his stomach… was that.. fear? Luciano let out a soft hiss, combing his fingers through his hair as he thought. “No, we’ll need to go to the kitchen anyway. Theres another key we need in there. “ His eyes glanced up to the other people in the group, leaning a bit closer to England. “We should get to the attic first, then hit the kitchen on the way down…si?” He was fidgeting, anxious. Something about the attic was driving him insane, he didn’t really want to go up there, but he couldn’t exactly remember why. This place was giving his head a mental work out, and he hated it. Glancing up again, looking over at the others. “Romano.. do you need any help getting there? You and Lutz are the most hurt here…Lutz, however, can take a bullet and keep walking, i’ve seen him.”

[germanhimbo]

For some odd reason, the comment on his behalf made Lutz find a way to give a semblance of a chuckle during all this. Maybe it was his mind and body’s attempt at lifting the terrible situation, because it was practically involuntary the way the air left him through his nose.

“Mhm, if you need some help Romano, I’m willing,” he offered with the amount of guilt still slinging itself against his heart with all of its weight. It’s only right, he thinks.

“Aber, genau.. we should head to the attic first. That ist where we were planning to go in the first place, ja?” The German speaks as he starts lingering towards the back of the group just to round it up, looking around as if he expects anything to happen at any moment now.

[caffelatteitaliano]

how are you holding up pasta boy? ready for some bad news?

What’s the point of being ready for bad news when you’re already aware of what it is. Luciano sits leaning against the wall of the side of doorway to the safe room, hand clutching his chest with a glazed over look. His heart hurt so bad, a tight clutch in his chest. His eyes glanced up slowly, glazed over, almost dazed. Someone….was at the door. He either was going to die or someone had found him, either way… he didn’t mind. His heart hurt to much to care at the moment. Maybe it would be better if it was the thing, then he wouldnt be in so much pain. 

[germanhimbo]

The other two arrived at the door around the same time Romano did, and Lutz personally couldn’t wait any longer to look for his Veneziano. Germany did not push past him or anything of that regard, but he did lean his arm forward next to him in order to move the door open, only to see… “Luciano!” Lutz called that louder than he would’ve liked to admit, but right now he couldn’t find it in him to care. He ran directly over to the Italian and fell down to his knees, scooping the other man up into his arms with such a relieved sound it nearly came out like a choked sob.

“…It’s okay, we’re here. Its the 1P England and Romano.. and me,” he mutters quietly to his best friend. Its to let him have any semblance of levity at all in this terrible problem they’ve all found themselves cast into. Lutz knows fully-well Luciano must be going through so much its terrible. They all are, but thank the air he’s breathing that Luciano is still breathing himself. He.. he was so worried that he was just going to find another body, and one that he definitely wasn’t sure how he’d even be able to deal with. “We’re going to figure it out okay? We’re gonna fix it.. just try and stand for me.”

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

Upon the trio making their way toward the final area that they hadn’t checked yet, even before England had a chance to react or even attempt to process just what he was seeing, Lutz was already rushing through door toward whom he could only guess was Luciano.

Judging from his reaction, then that meant…

Oh my god he was actually still alive.

Those stifled sobs and choked words were so difficult to listen to, but at the same time despite how he himself was feeling, relief washed over the entirety of himself. Somehow, by some grace of whatever higher power that seemed to be taunting and laughing at them through the entirety of their time here thus far, chose to show them some semblance of whatever form of mercy that this could even be called.

He was still alive…

Thank goodness… Luci is okay….

“…W-What…?” England spoke in no louder than a murmur, the headache that was slowly beginning to wane came back with a vengeance. Leaning back with his back pressed against the wall near the door’s entrance, all the while unable to take his eyes off of the two strangers that he and Romano had to come to rely on. Despite being able to see straight, he quickly shook his head at least in an attempt to refocus. 

Why did it feel as though his heart was trying to claw it’s way out of his chest again?

He didn’t know what was happening, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. Taking a breath, the Brit spoke in a hushed tone but just loud enough he hoped to be heard.

“Luciano…Are you okay? Do you need any more assistance in getting up?”

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

“Ciao.”

It was only a whisper but Romano had finally greeted him.

He cautiously stepped foot inside, taking note of how his hands trembled as he entered the vicinity of others he had jeopardized. He did not fortify himself for this.

As much as he would have liked to remain ignorant to the notion that the crass excuse for a mop was not acting as he was earlier, the lack of conflict between them was bitterly welcome. However, he would still not ignore how the man - who clearly had ran a Beatlemania blog in his years - occasionally had a glazed look in his eyes, listening to what thoughts raced in his head. 

His eyes darted over to the sudden blur of movement.

In any other moment, he would have listened with a deaf ear. He would have looked sanctimoniously, as a hypocrite, to neglect the expansive, mortal sensation threatening to imprison him with the reality of his immaturity unable to misdirect it into rage, weakly disguising his brittle heart.

A silent current of misery flowed, inching throughout his body, chronically afflicting him after Veneziano’s death. It pained him to be an accomplice to ending the gaily presence of a man whose smile was as enthusiastic as a sickroom of whom harboured critical knowledge kept secret. But, now, it was perplexing how this private exhibit of those two’s raw emotions offered placidity if even for a second.

Love flies out of the window as quick as the eye can blink, but the scene beneath him displayed a moment of liberation and happiness held within the arms of two lonely people. Those two seemed to be freed from fear and uneasiness even if it was only for a second. This nauseating display of love managed to arouse his empathy than had anything he’d experienced before. It frightened Romano that he had even chosen to accept a moment of ease (and, perhaps, a bit of sympathy towards these strangers.) Even at a distance, physically and mentally, these moments intimidated him - mansion or not; he was intolerably afraid that these moments would bring a connection between him and humanity, embellishing unto an extraordinary phenomenon of genuine kindness. Romano had yet to cope.

He inhaled deeply. His shoulders dropping back to its relaxed state that would only last for a minute more.

They had to choose the expedient of braving along, find the keys, and return once more.

“Vai.”

With a flick of his hand, he staggered out of the room that offered them a moment of respite into the halls of sincere Weltschmerz. 

Every fibre of his being agreed upon one thing:

This chapter was coming to an end.

[caffelatteitaliano]

Luciano clung to Lutz like his life depended on it. Like he was the only thing left in the world. His body wracked with tiny sobs as he tried to calm himself in front of the other. He needed to calm down, to relax, but it was hard, especially when Lutz was right there holding him like that.  He really only pulled away when he heard the tiny ciao, glancing towards the others, well.. other in the room. Using Lutz to help him stand, he shakily held onto him, glancing towards England, a odd amount of relief as well as pain on his face. If Oliver wasn’t here.. then he knows what happened.  “Si, I can- I can stand.” He was a lil shaky on his feet, but he had to keep some pride. “We…we have a thing we have to do, si? Let’s go..” With that he started towards the room door, after Romano, his steps still a little shaky. However, once he caught sight of Romano, his hand reached out anyway, grabbing onto the sleeve of a shirt like a child might a older sibling. He wasn’t his sibling, but he cared so much about 1p Romano, even if he didn’t realize this wasn’t his. He gave him such a oddly soft, vulnerable look for a second, before letting him go folding his hands in front of himself awkwardly for letting himself have that moment. “Si, we have to get to the kitchen..”

[germanhimbo]

Lutz found himself so incredibly thankful for this one grace, but he did breathe out soon enough.

They still had a job to do.

He doesn’t particularly know what all these keys will help beyond getting the rest of them out of here, but the others have been talking like they’re able to do so much more. Somewhere.. he feels like they should, but he isn’t even sure where that inkling is sitting in his stomach. It’s certainly not Ludwig.. it feels akin to deja vu, but somehow even more vague than that feeling already is. It being anything like deja vu is a more concerning thought than he’d like to admit, he’s never been in a circumstance similar to this ever before in his life. He’s sure of it.

His concern aside, they have a job to do.. and him having doubts about his memories isn’t going to get them to the kitchen any faster. So, he helps Luciano stand as he steadies himself beside him, and starts the trek.

“...Was ist in der küche— ah, the kitchen anyway? Is it a key? Like in the attic?”

[caffelatteitaliano]

how are you holding up pasta boy? ready for some bad news?

What’s the point of being ready for bad news when you’re already aware of what it is. Luciano sits leaning against the wall of the side of doorway to the safe room, hand clutching his chest with a glazed over look. His heart hurt so bad, a tight clutch in his chest. His eyes glanced up slowly, glazed over, almost dazed. Someone....was at the door. He either was going to die or someone had found him, either way... he didn’t mind. His heart hurt to much to care at the moment. Maybe it would be better if it was the thing, then he wouldnt be in so much pain. 

[germanhimbo]

The other two arrived at the door around the same time Romano did, and Lutz personally couldn’t wait any longer to look for his Veneziano. Germany did not push past him or anything of that regard, but he did lean his arm forward next to him in order to move the door open, only to see... “Luciano!” Lutz called that louder than he would’ve liked to admit, but right now he couldn’t find it in him to care. He ran directly over to the Italian and fell down to his knees, scooping the other man up into his arms with such a relieved sound it nearly came out like a choked sob.

“...It’s okay, we’re here. Its the 1P England and Romano.. and me,” he mutters quietly to his best friend. Its to let him have any semblance of levity at all in this terrible problem they’ve all found themselves cast into. Lutz knows fully-well Luciano must be going through so much its terrible. They all are, but thank the air he’s breathing that Luciano is still breathing himself. He.. he was so worried that he was just going to find another body, and one that he definitely wasn’t sure how he’d even be able to deal with. “We’re going to figure it out okay? We’re gonna fix it.. just try and stand for me.”

[germanhimbo]

Do you need any sutures? I've a sewing kit and some scrap fabric laying around.

The German man.. nods, but he swallows with a grimace as he, Romano, and the 1P Englishman rush away from the room getting smaller and smaller behind them. In search of what, even? There was so much information moving so fast, he was hardly able to catch any of it.. something about keys.. a contract.. a clock? Some numbered code.. there.. there was an eight he thinks. Maybe if things weren’t going so fast he’d be able to keep track of it all. Lutz knows he’s good at following orders, but usually he’s told clearly things he needs to do, even if he hates thinking about that. He hates thinking about all of this, really. Not to mention, his friends are back there are likely fighting for their lives, he knows how strong these Things are.What did Romano just ask..? Oh.. right.“Ja.. but, I don’t feel good leaving Luciano and Oliver back there like that.. or Feliciano. We should have stayed back to help.”

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

The shakiness of the German’s tone wasn’t lost on England even in the state he was in, it was all he could even do to stay upright. Lutz’s body language told him everything, but it didn’t fully sink in until those words left his mouth before disappearing into the room that was once considered to be safe.

“…They’re gone. Feliciano and Oliver are gone.”

Even as he tried to explain the reasoning behind the sudden bout of severe pain that both he and Romano felt all within a mere few minutes of each other, all of the sudden, the tears fell.

But they didn’t feel like they were his.

The pain gripping at his heart slowly began to subside, and even though he was told not to look, England knew that he had to. Lurching toward the door frame, he was met with the horrifying sight.

Blood splattered against the back wall and oozing to cover the floor around the bodies, only able to watch in shock and horror while Lutz rearranged them both to at least give them some peace and respect in death.

“We have to find him. This means he’s alone somewhere, we can’t leave him.”

That’s right…

He was hopefully still alive.

It took everything in England’s power to try and control the sudden onslaught of powerful emotions that overtook him, and not just from seeing their two fallen companions laying on the floor in front of them. They… Had someone else to find…

Having to take in a few deep breaths to try and recollect himself as difficult it was proving to be, shaking his head before turning to look away from the grisly scene.

He… Just couldn’t look at them like that anymore.

“You’re right… We do have to find him…Italy and Oliver…They’re… At peace for now, there’s nothing more we can do for them.” 

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

His heart sunk to his stomach.

Romano had no idea why it felt like he was stripped of something so abruptly- punched in the gut with a tsunami of unremitting grief condensed into seconds of despair stemming from the nothingness in which the two in front of them now lay in. He shouldn’t feel this bad for a duo of strangers who had their lives torn from them by some apathetic monster who seemed not even to gain an ounce of enjoyment. It hunted simply to hunt. 

He hated that.

Feet. Move. 

One step in front of the other.

He clicked his tongue.

Why couldn’t he move?

Sure- the body of his brother may be as warm as the rest of the room and covered like a duvet resting on a couch to use for another time but, now, it simply existed like an ornament to the room. Nothing more.

Seeing that stupid goddamn blond try to find something - someone - so desperately…

It reeked of love.

He banged his fist against the wall. 

They needed to go. They needed to find that other person who seemed interesting in his eyes. The other Italian that Lorenzo had wanted to exchange even a simple “ciao”… before it was too late.

He opened his mouth, only to remember his throat was unable to form any words. He opted for whistling.

He whistled - concise and sharp - much like you would when heeding a taxi, only, this time around, they were heading to another destination of hell or hell. There seemed to be no hope around this wretched building.

[germanhimbo]

It took everything in Lutz’s power not to do something more with how much he felt this twisting in his heart. Oliver was one of his closer friends, or at least.. he considers him one of those. Seeing him so battered and beaten isn’t something he thinks will ever leave his mind.. but.. he.. never even got to say goodbye, so he isn’t sure if he wants it to leave. Its all he has left of the poor man. Yet somehow beyond that, it felt like some of the emotions there in his chest were beyond him, seeing Feliciano that way.. and he could actually put words to it, unlike the other two in the group. Ludwig. He was feeling for Ludwig. …Where even was his 1P? He couldn’t feel him properly the way he normally might, pressing a hand to his chest as the group started moving on. His fingers clutch at the cloth of his shirt, the pain inside stinging so much worse than any of the wounds he’s taken on externally could ever hope to. Yet its dull.. far away. Something must have happened to him when he couldn’t jog the fact that it even occurred, but now, he was here. The only Germany to understand the pain the other would feel for a lost loved one. 

It was terrible. But at least they were together now.. in spirit, wherever they were.  That feels like the worst way to consider the situation, but what else can he even do?  He desperately wishes there was a way to fix this. The others were talking strangely like there was earlier, but he’s hardly even able to think fully through it all– with the deep amount of grief he just can’t. And yet, he needs to be strong. Luciano is still okay, right..? They need to find him. Desperately, he needs to find him. His face hardens as they travel, swallowing down everything he can just to move forward. Luciano would know what to do.. eventually, he always knows what to do.

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

England couldn’t even imagine how ‘Germany’ was feeling right now, nor how he seemed to be holding it together. Not with everything that he was going through right now. Having to fight that monster alone, being stabbed multiple times, not knowing if one of his friends was still alive all the while, seeing one of the others dead. It didn’t even feel right or decent to leave Italy and Oliver like that, but they didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

The pain that wracked through his body slowly began to ebb, the pain in his chest lowering to more of a dull ache. But now the Brit had a pounding headache, watching Lutz’s behavior for some reason only seemed to make it even worse. Rubbing at his arm and making sure to not look down at the fallen, turning his attention toward him, normally green eyes now flecked with hues of blue mixed in.

“If… If you need a second to say your goodbyes…”

What even was there else he could say? It was the decent thing to offer despite the pressing matter of time in their task, given they weren’t sure of the state of Luciano, and they still had to find the keys.

The sudden whistle broke him from his pained stupor along with his attempt to process what they just saw, merely following after Romano and Lutz as he left the room and the trio made their way quickly down the hallway to find their final companion, god forbid if he was still alive.

“……” England’s entire body felt heavy, heavier than it ever had since this entire ordeal began. He felt as though he was carrying burdens that he had never felt before, unsure of what was even happening as he thought back to what Lutz said. Something about what happens when their ‘other half’ dies. Was that what was happening? 

“You alright there big guy?”

Why did he feel the need to say that? That wasn’t the sort of vernacular that he usually used.

Was that just… Another side effect of what just happened? 

And why did it feel that his heart hurt so badly when he looked at him?

He didn’t even know him. Yet at the same time… He now felt as though he always had.

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

One thing of the many things Romano wished to mar his regret this night was having remained in a daze. The stabbing despair raking through the muddled rage molded the ghosts of fear. Unto him was the curse of vigilance; the awareness that within this plagued excuse of a harbor of life, the air they shared was infected with particles of the monster’s existence, parasitic in that it drained them all of joy traversing from beneath their feet, sullying the calm flow of reason as it traveled up until it eventually caused blindness. He had fallen into the trap, wriggling for a brief second, until he had lost his connection to himself and became nothing more than a vengeful ghost possessing a terrorized body. Years of performing at the epitome of his abilities had made the incontestable lie in which he’d survived shatter, the fear of humanity’s possibilities - in particular one being - writhe in his chest. As he, a fool, started to relax his guard a bit, confident that nothing could perturb his forged tungsten identity, he was struck, shattering upon impact to reveal nothing more than a cracked vase. The assailant was himself- his immaturity. Lorenzo had failed to recognize that he should have been on guard against himself.

His eyes darted to blobs of possible movement demanding his manic attention. Snapshots of information scampering into his brain as the edges of his vision seemed to take on a vignette effect. Romano ran, each step thunderous, quickening as if all the particulates that carried the monster’s ghost of a presence had appeared behind- or, better yet, had appeared where the sole Italy was.

This mansion of malediction summoned forth his fatuousness and hypocrisy in response to an impression years ago, With a pair of baptized eyes, acting far from an analgesic, the silent cathedral that surrounded them singing its accusatory rings of the sins the walls sealed which whispered demonical prophecies erring them into a crushing vacuity.

He had taken the bait and bit the apple. 

With him brought an anathema that he sought to repent for.

The air became freezing as he ran with them. The cold trickling down into his fingertips, threatening to go into an ironic rigor mortis as each bead of uninvited sweat formed out of fear.

“Dov’ Sa dophe p'tabbe handa'he?” (Dov'è? Sai dove potrebbe andare?) Where? Where would he go?

Could the other two even hear him? Each sound that came out of his mouth was weaker than a whisper- voiceless attempts at speaking. But he could tr-

For a second, he thought he saw something move.

“Cucina! D'bihamo ‘anda'he in cucina!” (Cucina! Dobbiamo andare in cucina.) The kitchen! Cotton candy mentioned the safe in the kitchen. He could be in the kitchen, attempting to find the other key whilst they were scourging the attic.

[germanhimbo]

Saying his goodbyes..? Yeah, he’d like to.. but he can’t even do that properly in a place like this. Maybe he can say something for them when they’ve at least found a spot to be safer for a moment. So.. in response to England, he merely nods.. but he looks over at him. 

There’s a small smile that comes from his face, the calmest little upturn of his lips to let him know that he’s staying calm for him. He’s letting him know that at the very least externally, he’s holding out hope and staying alright. Who ‘him’ specifically is.. is kind of up for debate in his head, but he knows he’s doing it.  Though, it wasn’t something that lasted long, hearing the slurred and broken Italian. A sharp pang of guilt struck through his chest hearing Romano like that, but he tried to piece it together in his head.

“Dov’..? Dove? Sai do– oh, keine Ahnung. Though.. I don’t know about the kitchen,” Lutz says with a calm amount of honesty, as he looks towards him, his tone gentle from how culpable he feels for having knocked the other out like that. Its definitely why the other is having trouble at the moment, and he knows it. He doesn’t know what else he could’ve done in the situation with how strapped for time they are. “The scream was on this floor, which means he– he can’t be too far, right? Maybe he got sent for something, considering the… state Feliciano was in when we left.”

[germanhimbo]

Do you like spinach puffs?

“Ja! I do have to check how they’re made unless I’m the one cooking, aber, otherwise they’re very good.”

[germanhimbo]

Why you himbo? You share cookie with me? -offers him cookie-

“Why am I what..? Haha! Here, these are for in a couple days, but I’m gonna make more since we’re all stuck inside for the holidays. I gotta go crazy, brudi. Legally,” Lutz laughs to himself. “Danke, for your cookie too!”

[germanhimbo]

Do you need any sutures? I've a sewing kit and some scrap fabric laying around.

The German man.. nods, but he swallows with a grimace as he, Romano, and the 1P Englishman rush away from the room getting smaller and smaller behind them. In search of what, even? There was so much information moving so fast, he was hardly able to catch any of it.. something about keys.. a contract.. a clock? Some numbered code.. there.. there was an eight he thinks. Maybe if things weren’t going so fast he’d be able to keep track of it all. Lutz knows he’s good at following orders, but usually he’s told clearly things he needs to do, even if he hates thinking about that. He hates thinking about all of this, really. Not to mention, his friends are back there are likely fighting for their lives, he knows how strong these Things are.What did Romano just ask..? Oh.. right.“Ja.. but, I don’t feel good leaving Luciano and Oliver back there like that.. or Feliciano. We should have stayed back to help.”

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

The shakiness of the German’s tone wasn’t lost on England even in the state he was in, it was all he could even do to stay upright. Lutz’s body language told him everything, but it didn’t fully sink in until those words left his mouth before disappearing into the room that was once considered to be safe.

“…They’re gone. Feliciano and Oliver are gone.”

Even as he tried to explain the reasoning behind the sudden bout of severe pain that both he and Romano felt all within a mere few minutes of each other, all of the sudden, the tears fell.

But they didn’t feel like they were his.

The pain gripping at his heart slowly began to subside, and even though he was told not to look, England knew that he had to. Lurching toward the door frame, he was met with the horrifying sight.

Blood splattered against the back wall and oozing to cover the floor around the bodies, only able to watch in shock and horror while Lutz rearranged them both to at least give them some peace and respect in death.

“We have to find him. This means he’s alone somewhere, we can’t leave him.”

That’s right…

He was hopefully still alive.

It took everything in England’s power to try and control the sudden onslaught of powerful emotions that overtook him, and not just from seeing their two fallen companions laying on the floor in front of them. They… Had someone else to find…

Having to take in a few deep breaths to try and recollect himself as difficult it was proving to be, shaking his head before turning to look away from the grisly scene.

He… Just couldn’t look at them like that anymore.

“You’re right… We do have to find him…Italy and Oliver…They’re… At peace for now, there’s nothing more we can do for them.” 

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

His heart sunk to his stomach.

Romano had no idea why it felt like he was stripped of something so abruptly- punched in the gut with a tsunami of unremitting grief condensed into seconds of despair stemming from the nothingness in which the two in front of them now lay in. He shouldn’t feel this bad for a duo of strangers who had their lives torn from them by some apathetic monster who seemed not even to gain an ounce of enjoyment. It hunted simply to hunt. 

He hated that.

Feet. Move. 

One step in front of the other.

He clicked his tongue.

Why couldn’t he move?

Sure- the body of his brother may be as warm as the rest of the room and covered like a duvet resting on a couch to use for another time but, now, it simply existed like an ornament to the room. Nothing more.

Seeing that stupid goddamn blond try to find something - someone - so desperately…

It reeked of love.

He banged his fist against the wall. 

They needed to go. They needed to find that other person who seemed interesting in his eyes. The other Italian that Lorenzo had wanted to exchange even a simple “ciao”… before it was too late.

He opened his mouth, only to remember his throat was unable to form any words. He opted for whistling.

He whistled - concise and sharp - much like you would when heeding a taxi, only, this time around, they were heading to another destination of hell or hell. There seemed to be no hope around this wretched building.

[germanhimbo]

It took everything in Lutz’s power not to do something more with how much he felt this twisting in his heart. Oliver was one of his closer friends, or at least.. he considers him one of those. Seeing him so battered and beaten isn’t something he thinks will ever leave his mind.. but.. he.. never even got to say goodbye, so he isn’t sure if he wants it to leave. Its all he has left of the poor man. Yet somehow beyond that, it felt like some of the emotions there in his chest were beyond him, seeing Feliciano that way.. and he could actually put words to it, unlike the other two in the group. Ludwig. He was feeling for Ludwig. ...Where even was his 1P? He couldn’t feel him properly the way he normally might, pressing a hand to his chest as the group started moving on. His fingers clutch at the cloth of his shirt, the pain inside stinging so much worse than any of the wounds he’s taken on externally could ever hope to. Yet its dull.. far away. Something must have happened to him when he couldn’t jog the fact that it even occurred, but now, he was here. The only Germany to understand the pain the other would feel for a lost loved one. 

It was terrible. But at least they were together now.. in spirit, wherever they were.  That feels like the worst way to consider the situation, but what else can he even do?  He desperately wishes there was a way to fix this. The others were talking strangely like there was earlier, but he’s hardly even able to think fully through it all-- with the deep amount of grief he just can’t. And yet, he needs to be strong. Luciano is still okay, right..? They need to find him. Desperately, he needs to find him. His face hardens as they travel, swallowing down everything he can just to move forward. Luciano would know what to do.. eventually, he always knows what to do.

[germanhimbo]

Do you need any sutures? I've a sewing kit and some scrap fabric laying around.

The German man.. nods, but he swallows with a grimace as he, Romano, and the 1P Englishman rush away from the room getting smaller and smaller behind them. In search of what, even? There was so much information moving so fast, he was hardly able to catch any of it.. something about keys.. a contract.. a clock? Some numbered code.. there.. there was an eight he thinks. Maybe if things weren’t going so fast he’d be able to keep track of it all. Lutz knows he’s good at following orders, but usually he’s told clearly things he needs to do, even if he hates thinking about that. He hates thinking about all of this, really. Not to mention, his friends are back there are likely fighting for their lives, he knows how strong these Things are.What did Romano just ask..? Oh.. right.“Ja.. but, I don’t feel good leaving Luciano and Oliver back there like that.. or Feliciano. We should have stayed back to help.”

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

“Italy…. He’s going to die.“

So England’s lingering suspicions were correct.

That bloody idiot.

How could he just allow himself to overexert himself like that?! Even though this was a dead loop already, he knew that, but keeping as many people alive as possible was one of the main priorities. However, a haunting thought crossed his mind. 

Romano too signed the contract.

If he dies…

England didn’t know how much power he had left. So if something happened… He didn’t know if he could take them back. As much as it both scared and pissed him off to think this way, for all of their survival, they would have to make sure Romano survived so he could perform the spell.

FUCK.

If that’s how it had to be just for all of them to make it to the next loop, then so be it.

“Romano. Can you stand? Can you walk or run? Or does ‘Germany’ have to carry you? I can help ease the chest pain, you just have to tell me what you need.” Despite his concern, England’s tone was that of matter-of-fact, in turn holding out a hand to help him up from the other side.

“As much as I hate to admit that this guy is right, time is of the very essence.”

Was he being callous? More than likely. But right now, without knowing the status of that other Italian being able to do the same as Romano or Italy and with the lack of knowledge as to his own status, Romano was their last hope.

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

“Hör pferdammt auf dich zu entschuldigen- Topio, I can stand. While it hurts like an absolute bitch, I can move.” ((Trans: Stop fucking apologizing- idiot))

[-5 health]

“Oh guarda, un genio.” ((Trans: Oh look, a genius.))

Just because it feels like his heart is going to give out doesn’t mean his mouth is.

”Just support me before I curl up like a sea cockroach. We’ve got no time to lose and, you, ventagli, warum redest du mit mir als wäre ich ein gopfershtuzer old man? I’ll punt your tall ciambella ass to the moon if you do that.“ ((Trans: why are you talking to me like I’m a fucking old man))

Romano’s not going to let himself slow down everyone else. That’s just being a prick. He has standards.

Chances are, big guy over here, can support him better than that posh NEET (who had clearly never shaved his eyebrows before). He takes the German’s hand and supports most of his weight against the man.

He’s not going to lie- it felt like he got food poisoning all over again but it was much worse this time around. Why does he have to suffer from that lanky psychopath’s deteriorating health? Oh wait- (If he actually decided to expend energy, he would’ve rolled his eyes) it’s because he tore up that book.

“Oi, unseasoned tweed genius, clearly you’re calm about all of this to know something about this mansion as well. How important was that bible and, once we get the keys and head to that clock strawberry chiffon mentioned, how do we turn back time?”

He grunted.

“Alright, kids, there’s no time to waste. We need to go.”

[germanhimbo]

He’s not going to argue with Romano, not right now, they need to go, wherever they’re going– the attic? Fast. Lutz starts pushing ahead after the italian’s up on his feet to start getting up there as quickly as possible.. but then suddenly, he hears it. The scream. It sounds like Feliciano but. No. No it’s not. He’d know that scream anywhere, its Luciano, and if he’s screaming out like that.. then that must mean.. Lutz blinks.

They can’t just leave him. They can’t. No matter what’s going on– the goal right now is all so vague and shapeless, and no one is explaining anything that isn’t confusing but– but people aren’t unknown goals. People aren’t things to leave behind, at least, not something he can. He can’t even stomach the fact that he left them behind in that room like that to begin with. Lives aren’t bargaining chips. And so Germany makes an executive decision, things he hardly ever makes, without even speaking. He turns back around, and first scoops Romano up into one of his arms, before picking up England over his other arm. Adjusting them on his shoulders properly, he full on starts sprinting back. Enough time has been wasted just talking about wasting time and talking about getting a move on. 

So now they’re going. “Sorry, but we need to bring Luciano and Oliver with us, and I am not leaving you two.” If only he knew.

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

“……………….!”

That guttural scream. 

“What… Was that?”

England didn’t even have the chance to bite back to Romano’s insults, when the arguing was quickly silenced by a piercing, primal sound that could even wake the dead.

He didn’t recognize that voice right away, it wasn’t Italy.

It was–

That possibly meant–

Before the Briton could even attempt to comprehend what they had just heard, he felt himself being scooped up like a rag doll and thrown over ‘Germany’s’ shoulder, yelping out of pure surprise before unintentionally snapping right in Lutz’s ear.

“HEY! I can run on my own put me down!” Even though he knew such protests were futile as the pair of them were carried easily like two sacks of potatoes down the stairs back down toward the second floor where the other group was left behind.

If only he knew what awaited them. Even though it was clear that it was a lost cause to ‘save’ this loop already.

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

H̸̱̳͚́̔ë̶̙͓́ ̸̥̳͓̀̄S̸̘̙̱̎ ̴͉̽́͗ͅĊ̶̖͍ ̵̢͒͐R̸̨̭̖̅͘͘ ̷͔͎͓́̒̒E̴̲̠̿͌ ̶̛͈͝A̵̘̠̹̓ ̸̛̹̞͚͊M̴̥̞̌ ̸̪̬͌̃E̸͕̍ ̶̻͕̘͐̎D̶̏ͅ ̷͙͍̏̐͘.̵̢̹̰͆͆̀

nononONONONONO.

HE’S DEAD.

Good riddance.

Lorenzo squirmed desperately in the German’s grip.

“Put me down.”

He wasn’t sure if he sounded more desperate or in grief.

This was a nightmare. Years of doing absolutely peachy and who knew being hauled like a sack of potatoes would lead him back to this; Back to the minute of his nightmares— about to be starved of air and have his life depleted by the hands of someone stronger than him. He can’t afford that. He was better than this. He wasn’t helpless anymore. He needed to save himself. 

“Häsch en ecke ab?!”

It was right there too — the attic was only a few steps more and they would’ve been there if this zoccola hadn’t turned around. He was only a few steps away from fixing this. His throat was raw. If it was just static that came out of his mouth he couldn’t give less of a shit as long as the message was sent through. He had one chance to scream and he expended it. 

Lorenzo was starting to get lightheaded.

The scissors… He’d trained for this. 

He stabbed the blunt metal end of the closed scissors into Lutz’s underarms with the intensity of Veneziano’s death and his rage all combined into one.

He doesn’t care if the stranger bleeds.

Everything he felt was a throbbing, stinging pain, antagonizing each of his movements attempting to corrupt his train of thoughts. He could do this. He can run — crawl if he needed to — and get the key and go to the kitchen next.

He had to fix this before he was all alone.

[germanhimbo]

“ARGH–” Romano stabbed directly up under his arm and into him, the blunt end of the scissors only not digging further up into him because he throws his shoulder up. The italian get slammed against the side of Lutz’s head, and his grip on him loosens, though he can feel blood running down the side of his chest. That stings, badly. Maybe the only reason he’s not feeling it worse is because of the adrenaline running through his veins, but Gott is that bad. The cut can’t be clean. “Halt mal! Gh.. don’t you realize that we need to go together? Trying to do any of this shit alone is going to get us killed!” He shouts this, uncharacteristically to himself. Lutz hates yelling so much, but right now it feels needed. This situation is absolutely terrible, but the reality of it is– is that they need to stay with one another, and that their lives are so much more important than getting out of here at this moment in particular. The more of them that there are, the better the chance they have at succeeding.

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

Those screams.

The screams only continued.

Romano’s mixing in with that other Italy’s.

Just what in the hell was even happening?! 

Why were they both reacting this way?

Was… This because of Italy?

Finally just giving in and just allowing himself to be hauled off down the stairs as soon as they got onto the second floor and near the room where the other group was seen last, England stopped with his struggle only to hear the scuffle that was occurring on the German’s other shoulder. What was Romano even thinking?! Was he trying to get them killed?! 

“You damn bloody idiot! What are you playi–”

“………….”

A sharp pain suddenly began to squeeze at his heart, almost as though some unforeseen force forcibly reached inside of is his chest cavity and grabbed the still beating organ and put as much pressure on it as humanly, or as inhumanly possible. It took his breath away to the point where it was difficult for England to even breathe.

It didn’t stop there.

The pain began to quickly spread, trembling sharply as it began overtaking the entirety of his body. Almost as though the entirety of his being was being replaced with another.

The pain. It was almost unbearable.

Yet, he could do nothing about it.

Beads of cold sweat formed, falling down the lines of his face.  Wh-What was this?!

And why did all of the sudden… He feel an onslaught of pain, fear, anguish, sadness, anger.

It took everything in England’s being to not let out the screams, quickly biting down as hard as he could on his own hand to emit the ungodly noises that his body so badly wanted to release to the point where he could taste iron in his mouth.

His own blood.

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

He’s going to get them killed? Then, why the fuck did you run back to where the Thing was?

Lorenzo haphazardly shifted his weight towards the back of the blond, kicking his feet over much like when doing a handstand, and braced himself for the floor. He needed to get the key. The only thing keeping him from fixing his fucking mistake was this Missgeburt.

Lorenzo wanted to scream- the urgency and frustration racing through his thoughts verbally expressed to this braindead ditzy blond and an egomaniac who seems to believe they know absolutely everything and can make every decision on their own to feel as if they have power.

He is a hypocrite, yes, but h̷̤͂ȇ̷̛͈̫́̄̿͊ ̸̥̬̈́d̵̰̟͔̳̜͖̅̂̐̉̈́͘ò̷̢̦̖̦̗͆̈́ě̶̩̯͓̣̯́ͅs̴̼̥̈̀̑̏͘͜͜͝n̷̼̝͇̳̩͐'̴̢͍̬̪̭̏̿̿̾t̶̢͙̜̘̆͐̈̇ ̴̨̩͎͉̩͍̈́̎̿c̵̡̬͎̍̊a̷̼̮̾̒̽̕͝r̴̘͇̹͛̌̄͘͘ȩ̸̰̹̝͍̬͌͐ ̴̰̤̱͈͐̓̒̕͝a̵͔͉̤̩̩͗̈́n̷̺̘͙̐͛͂͑̃̈́ý̷̭̻̟͛̈̍̇m̸͓̱͔̼͍͚̑͘͝o̷̤̲̦̽̈̽͜r̴̢̧͖̻̞̲͝ę̷̦͙̞̣͙͑.

He’ll fucking kill him. He’ll strewn his intestines into elegant draperies dripping with red accenting the pre-existing gore of a room. His guts are going to make for the most exquisite strings on a baroque violin singing a sweet tune of musicians that have lived long ago and utilised their madness for genius. Where will his strength go then? It’ll go to something useful instead of hindering their chances of getting out of this cursed mansion that hosts nothing but monsters and its prey much like a game they’ll never win. He doesn’t even feel the pain anymore. All that coursed through his veins was sheer adrenaline, rage, and exhaustion. He knows he’s been fucking up as he always has been and he needs to fix it fast before it gets worse before he somehow ends up with a new life born out of destruction and pain.

He swung the scissors open, indifferent if the jagged side were to pierce his skin, and gripped it tight.

He opened his mouth to let out a coarse wheeze. He had already used up all his words and if, in any case, he needed to yell for help, he has already exhausted that whence he had announced the death of his odious brother.

If they dared touch him, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill them and lay them out for the world to see. Each layer of skin cleanly peeled back to reveal the small beads of mortal ichor grouping together in an attempt to cover the many layers of the human figure as delicate and intricate as a living croissant. He’ll stop the intricate being in its attempt to obstruct the necessary items to unlock them out of Hell. Lorenzo was going to reset this and fix it all but, currently, the ones living are in his way of fixing it. The end justify the means. 

If he stains his hands and becomes nothing less than his detestable blood relatives, then so be it. 

[germanhimbo]

This was.. so much. So much at once.  The only reason the German man was able to track it all was because of the fact that he’s been through times where he’s needed to think faster. Be stronger.  Romano was trying desperately to free himself from his hold, and they were almost there to the room they needed to be, and England was suddenly beginning to shake softly on his other shoulder, breathing hard like he was suddenly in such indescribable pain. Then, pain sears through his own back, the metal end of those damned fabric scissors tearing across his back. It was a jagged, harsh cut, but only as deep as the blade would let itself be, because Lutz was letting him go just to keep himself from being injured further. What on Earth was Romano doing?! Sure he was confused, but doesn’t he want to help his brother– doesn’t he want to protect them, even if he was angry at them for.. whatever reason he has. That’s the Romano he knows. The one with a heart of gold, who’d fight to protect his brother no matter what the hell he had going on in his mind. But. Right now he really is just going to get them all killed, not even because of the Thing or whatever else could be lingering around the corner, but he’s actively trying to kill him right now, it feels like. Lutz just wants to help everyone make it out of this. Doesn’t he want to? He’d be gentler with the poor man, he knows he must be freaking out, scared, or worse.. but he can’t use gentle words right now. Oddly enough, they just aren’t coming to him.  He lets England go to stand on his own two feet in the same moment he’d let Romano do the same, only to swiftly move to grab the second by the collar of his shirt, and slam his head against the wall.

It was a quick move to knock him out efficiently and with a quick amount of ease so his yelling and fighting didn’t make the situation even worse than it already was. He’d.. he’d wake up soon enough, and yes he’d be mad, but then they’d be in a safer spot.. he hopes. Boy, does he hope. Gloom shadows over Lutz after having to do such a thing, putting the italian safely down on the ground so he and England could walk into the room where..  

he thought they were safe.

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

England didn’t even have any sort of capacity at that moment to even try and comprehend the ensuing chaos that was even happening, fingers gripping tightly at his clothes covering his chest. His body felt as though it was both scorching hot and being crushed all at once, all at once all the while being hit with such a sudden onslaught of intense emotions.

All he knew at that moment was that ‘Germany’ had set him back down to where he was standing on his own two feet again, having to lean back against the wall just to keep standing upright. He felt heavy, as though he had been burdened with something so intense that he couldn’t even begin to describe the how or why.

it sounded as though he was dealing with Romano. Not even a couple of minutes later after he was set down to regain his bearings and try to re-catch his breath, there was a loud crash of what sounded to be a body hitting a wall.

Good.

He didn’t know what the hell had gotten into Romano, but at the same time, all he was at the moment was a liability and could get them all killed. So… If that was indeed what was happening… Such was the best course of action.

What followed after was something that England wasn’t at all expecting, an audible, horrified gasp from ‘Germany’.

Despite the state he was in, one eye cracked open to look in his direction only to see him standing at the doorway of their ‘safe room’, staring inside as though he had witnessed something so awful that no one would ever wish to see.

“What… What is it? What do you see? Are they alright?!”

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

What…

What happened?

A pure white static rang in his ear, piercing his eardrum with an imaginary spear, a scream that was akin to a cacophonous symphony- crescendoing and diminuendoing until it started to settle. There were low murmurs of bass in the background, overshadowed by the demanding tone of the E string dragged ever-so-slowly by an over-rosined bow.

He blinked.

He saw nothing- There was nothing in his vision until specks of light violently invaded his sight. Bringing him back to the world of consciousness and to the thundering pain emanating throughout the back of his head.

His limbs responded to him with a noticeable delay despite simply attempting to rub the back of his head. It was feverish without the heat. Somehow, he was sure that he could see the world itself spinning at a different velocity than his, adding a lag to his vision like a long exposure shot.

What- he opened his mouth to ask what he lost but nothing came out. He tried again. Still nothing. 

He propped himself up against the wall. Why did everything hurt? His head was killing him, his fingers felt wet, and he could barely see anything correctly. 

There were shadows moving about the light in front of him, possibly quite close, and then it stopped. It was a person. 

He stumbled over towards the curious door that seemed to have shocked its awaiting guests. 

His heart picked up its pace.

Why did it feel like he lost something?

It beat faster- galloping with it an erratic flow of emotions.

Thunder- that was all he could hear rushing towards his chest- his head.

Lorenzo stopped by the door.

His vision cleared up.

The world stopped spinning.

[germanhimbo]

“Don’t... look in here, England,” Lutz said with a slightly shaking tone. His eyes had begun to tear up, but he moved his hand up to his face to keep them from leaking more. He. He couldn’t let that happen, not right now, not in a situation like this. Germany couldn’t let himself cry in front of those two like this, and so he wiped his face clear and stood up straighter.  “...They’re gone. Feliciano and Oliver are gone.” Hearing Romano behind him regaining his world after he regained consciousness, Lutz didn’t particularly feel it was his right to keep him from seeing his brother. Nor was it his right to keep England from seeing his 2P either, but.. at least the Englishman wasn’t already over here to look. “That would.. explain.. the pain, you two suddenly felt. I-.. I don’t think you two remember what happens when another half dies if you don’t remember me. When a-- oh no.”

“Where’s Luciano?”

Germany stepped into the room, looking around for where the other Italian might be, but he’s nowhere among the bodies. While he’s in here, he goes to at least pick up the fallen England and set him down more peacefully beside the other Veneziano. But.. there’s only two dead in here. “We have to find him. This means he’s alone somewhere, we can’t leave him.”

[germanhimbo]

Do you need any sutures? I've a sewing kit and some scrap fabric laying around.

The German man.. nods, but he swallows with a grimace as he, Romano, and the 1P Englishman rush away from the room getting smaller and smaller behind them. In search of what, even? There was so much information moving so fast, he was hardly able to catch any of it.. something about keys.. a contract.. a clock? Some numbered code.. there.. there was an eight he thinks. Maybe if things weren’t going so fast he’d be able to keep track of it all. Lutz knows he’s good at following orders, but usually he’s told clearly things he needs to do, even if he hates thinking about that. He hates thinking about all of this, really. Not to mention, his friends are back there are likely fighting for their lives, he knows how strong these Things are.What did Romano just ask..? Oh.. right.“Ja.. but, I don’t feel good leaving Luciano and Oliver back there like that.. or Feliciano. We should have stayed back to help.”

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

“Italy…. He’s going to die.“

So England’s lingering suspicions were correct.

That bloody idiot.

How could he just allow himself to overexert himself like that?! Even though this was a dead loop already, he knew that, but keeping as many people alive as possible was one of the main priorities. However, a haunting thought crossed his mind. 

Romano too signed the contract.

If he dies…

England didn’t know how much power he had left. So if something happened… He didn’t know if he could take them back. As much as it both scared and pissed him off to think this way, for all of their survival, they would have to make sure Romano survived so he could perform the spell.

FUCK.

If that’s how it had to be just for all of them to make it to the next loop, then so be it.

“Romano. Can you stand? Can you walk or run? Or does ‘Germany’ have to carry you? I can help ease the chest pain, you just have to tell me what you need.” Despite his concern, England’s tone was that of matter-of-fact, in turn holding out a hand to help him up from the other side.

“As much as I hate to admit that this guy is right, time is of the very essence.”

Was he being callous? More than likely. But right now, without knowing the status of that other Italian being able to do the same as Romano or Italy and with the lack of knowledge as to his own status, Romano was their last hope.

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

“Hör pferdammt auf dich zu entschuldigen- Topio, I can stand. While it hurts like an absolute bitch, I can move.” ((Trans: Stop fucking apologizing- idiot))

[-5 health]

“Oh guarda, un genio.” ((Trans: Oh look, a genius.))

Just because it feels like his heart is going to give out doesn’t mean his mouth is.

”Just support me before I curl up like a sea cockroach. We’ve got no time to lose and, you, ventagli, warum redest du mit mir als wäre ich ein gopfershtuzer old man? I’ll punt your tall ciambella ass to the moon if you do that.“ ((Trans: why are you talking to me like I’m a fucking old man))

Romano’s not going to let himself slow down everyone else. That’s just being a prick. He has standards.

Chances are, big guy over here, can support him better than that posh NEET (who had clearly never shaved his eyebrows before). He takes the German’s hand and supports most of his weight against the man.

He’s not going to lie- it felt like he got food poisoning all over again but it was much worse this time around. Why does he have to suffer from that lanky psychopath’s deteriorating health? Oh wait- (If he actually decided to expend energy, he would’ve rolled his eyes) it’s because he tore up that book.

“Oi, unseasoned tweed genius, clearly you’re calm about all of this to know something about this mansion as well. How important was that bible and, once we get the keys and head to that clock strawberry chiffon mentioned, how do we turn back time?”

He grunted.

“Alright, kids, there’s no time to waste. We need to go.”

[germanhimbo]

He’s not going to argue with Romano, not right now, they need to go, wherever they’re going– the attic? Fast. Lutz starts pushing ahead after the italian’s up on his feet to start getting up there as quickly as possible.. but then suddenly, he hears it. The scream. It sounds like Feliciano but. No. No it’s not. He’d know that scream anywhere, its Luciano, and if he’s screaming out like that.. then that must mean.. Lutz blinks.

They can’t just leave him. They can’t. No matter what’s going on– the goal right now is all so vague and shapeless, and no one is explaining anything that isn’t confusing but– but people aren’t unknown goals. People aren’t things to leave behind, at least, not something he can. He can’t even stomach the fact that he left them behind in that room like that to begin with. Lives aren’t bargaining chips. And so Germany makes an executive decision, things he hardly ever makes, without even speaking. He turns back around, and first scoops Romano up into one of his arms, before picking up England over his other arm. Adjusting them on his shoulders properly, he full on starts sprinting back. Enough time has been wasted just talking about wasting time and talking about getting a move on. 

So now they’re going. “Sorry, but we need to bring Luciano and Oliver with us, and I am not leaving you two.” If only he knew.

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

“……………….!”

That guttural scream. 

“What… Was that?”

England didn’t even have the chance to bite back to Romano’s insults, when the arguing was quickly silenced by a piercing, primal sound that could even wake the dead.

He didn’t recognize that voice right away, it wasn’t Italy.

It was–

That possibly meant–

Before the Briton could even attempt to comprehend what they had just heard, he felt himself being scooped up like a rag doll and thrown over ‘Germany’s’ shoulder, yelping out of pure surprise before unintentionally snapping right in Lutz’s ear.

“HEY! I can run on my own put me down!” Even though he knew such protests were futile as the pair of them were carried easily like two sacks of potatoes down the stairs back down toward the second floor where the other group was left behind.

If only he knew what awaited them. Even though it was clear that it was a lost cause to ‘save’ this loop already.

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

H̸̱̳͚́̔ë̶̙͓́ ̸̥̳͓̀̄S̸̘̙̱̎ ̴͉̽́͗ͅĊ̶̖͍ ̵̢͒͐R̸̨̭̖̅͘͘ ̷͔͎͓́̒̒E̴̲̠̿͌ ̶̛͈͝A̵̘̠̹̓ ̸̛̹̞͚͊M̴̥̞̌ ̸̪̬͌̃E̸͕̍ ̶̻͕̘͐̎D̶̏ͅ ̷͙͍̏̐͘.̵̢̹̰͆͆̀

nononONONONONO.

HE’S DEAD.

Good riddance.

Lorenzo squirmed desperately in the German’s grip.

“Put me down.”

He wasn’t sure if he sounded more desperate or in grief.

This was a nightmare. Years of doing absolutely peachy and who knew being hauled like a sack of potatoes would lead him back to this; Back to the minute of his nightmares— about to be starved of air and have his life depleted by the hands of someone stronger than him. He can’t afford that. He was better than this. He wasn’t helpless anymore. He needed to save himself. 

“Häsch en ecke ab?!”

It was right there too — the attic was only a few steps more and they would’ve been there if this zoccola hadn’t turned around. He was only a few steps away from fixing this. His throat was raw. If it was just static that came out of his mouth he couldn’t give less of a shit as long as the message was sent through. He had one chance to scream and he expended it. 

Lorenzo was starting to get lightheaded.

The scissors… He’d trained for this. 

He stabbed the blunt metal end of the closed scissors into Lutz’s underarms with the intensity of Veneziano’s death and his rage all combined into one.

He doesn’t care if the stranger bleeds.

Everything he felt was a throbbing, stinging pain, antagonizing each of his movements attempting to corrupt his train of thoughts. He could do this. He can run — crawl if he needed to — and get the key and go to the kitchen next.

He had to fix this before he was all alone.

[germanhimbo]

“ARGH–” Romano stabbed directly up under his arm and into him, the blunt end of the scissors only not digging further up into him because he throws his shoulder up. The italian get slammed against the side of Lutz’s head, and his grip on him loosens, though he can feel blood running down the side of his chest. That stings, badly. Maybe the only reason he’s not feeling it worse is because of the adrenaline running through his veins, but Gott is that bad. The cut can’t be clean. “Halt mal! Gh.. don’t you realize that we need to go together? Trying to do any of this shit alone is going to get us killed!” He shouts this, uncharacteristically to himself. Lutz hates yelling so much, but right now it feels needed. This situation is absolutely terrible, but the reality of it is– is that they need to stay with one another, and that their lives are so much more important than getting out of here at this moment in particular. The more of them that there are, the better the chance they have at succeeding.

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

Those screams.

The screams only continued.

Romano’s mixing in with that other Italy’s.

Just what in the hell was even happening?! 

Why were they both reacting this way?

Was… This because of Italy?

Finally just giving in and just allowing himself to be hauled off down the stairs as soon as they got onto the second floor and near the room where the other group was seen last, England stopped with his struggle only to hear the scuffle that was occurring on the German’s other shoulder. What was Romano even thinking?! Was he trying to get them killed?! 

“You damn bloody idiot! What are you playi–”

“………….”

A sharp pain suddenly began to squeeze at his heart, almost as though some unforeseen force forcibly reached inside of is his chest cavity and grabbed the still beating organ and put as much pressure on it as humanly, or as inhumanly possible. It took his breath away to the point where it was difficult for England to even breathe.

It didn’t stop there.

The pain began to quickly spread, trembling sharply as it began overtaking the entirety of his body. Almost as though the entirety of his being was being replaced with another.

The pain. It was almost unbearable.

Yet, he could do nothing about it.

Beads of cold sweat formed, falling down the lines of his face.  Wh-What was this?!

And why did all of the sudden… He feel an onslaught of pain, fear, anguish, sadness, anger.

It took everything in England’s being to not let out the screams, quickly biting down as hard as he could on his own hand to emit the ungodly noises that his body so badly wanted to release to the point where he could taste iron in his mouth.

His own blood.

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

He’s going to get them killed? Then, why the fuck did you run back to where the Thing was?

Lorenzo haphazardly shifted his weight towards the back of the blond, kicking his feet over much like when doing a handstand, and braced himself for the floor. He needed to get the key. The only thing keeping him from fixing his fucking mistake was this Missgeburt.

Lorenzo wanted to scream- the urgency and frustration racing through his thoughts verbally expressed to this braindead ditzy blond and an egomaniac who seems to believe they know absolutely everything and can make every decision on their own to feel as if they have power.

He is a hypocrite, yes, but h̷̤͂ȇ̷̛͈̫́̄̿͊ ̸̥̬̈́d̵̰̟͔̳̜͖̅̂̐̉̈́͘ò̷̢̦̖̦̗͆̈́ě̶̩̯͓̣̯́ͅs̴̼̥̈̀̑̏͘͜͜͝n̷̼̝͇̳̩͐'̴̢͍̬̪̭̏̿̿̾t̶̢͙̜̘̆͐̈̇ ̴̨̩͎͉̩͍̈́̎̿c̵̡̬͎̍̊a̷̼̮̾̒̽̕͝r̴̘͇̹͛̌̄͘͘ȩ̸̰̹̝͍̬͌͐ ̴̰̤̱͈͐̓̒̕͝a̵͔͉̤̩̩͗̈́n̷̺̘͙̐͛͂͑̃̈́ý̷̭̻̟͛̈̍̇m̸͓̱͔̼͍͚̑͘͝o̷̤̲̦̽̈̽͜r̴̢̧͖̻̞̲͝ę̷̦͙̞̣͙͑.

He’ll fucking kill him. He’ll strewn his intestines into elegant draperies dripping with red accenting the pre-existing gore of a room. His guts are going to make for the most exquisite strings on a baroque violin singing a sweet tune of musicians that have lived long ago and utilised their madness for genius. Where will his strength go then? It’ll go to something useful instead of hindering their chances of getting out of this cursed mansion that hosts nothing but monsters and its prey much like a game they’ll never win. He doesn’t even feel the pain anymore. All that coursed through his veins was sheer adrenaline, rage, and exhaustion. He knows he’s been fucking up as he always has been and he needs to fix it fast before it gets worse before he somehow ends up with a new life born out of destruction and pain.

He swung the scissors open, indifferent if the jagged side were to pierce his skin, and gripped it tight.

He opened his mouth to let out a coarse wheeze. He had already used up all his words and if, in any case, he needed to yell for help, he has already exhausted that whence he had announced the death of his odious brother.

If they dared touch him, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill them and lay them out for the world to see. Each layer of skin cleanly peeled back to reveal the small beads of mortal ichor grouping together in an attempt to cover the many layers of the human figure as delicate and intricate as a living croissant. He’ll stop the intricate being in its attempt to obstruct the necessary items to unlock them out of Hell. Lorenzo was going to reset this and fix it all but, currently, the ones living are in his way of fixing it. The end justify the means. 

If he stains his hands and becomes nothing less than his detestable blood relatives, then so be it. 

[germanhimbo]

This was.. so much. So much at once.  The only reason the German man was able to track it all was because of the fact that he’s been through times where he’s needed to think faster. Be stronger.  Romano was trying desperately to free himself from his hold, and they were almost there to the room they needed to be, and England was suddenly beginning to shake softly on his other shoulder, breathing hard like he was suddenly in such indescribable pain. Then, pain sears through his own back, the metal end of those damned fabric scissors tearing across his back. It was a jagged, harsh cut, but only as deep as the blade would let itself be, because Lutz was letting him go just to keep himself from being injured further. What on Earth was Romano doing?! Sure he was confused, but doesn’t he want to help his brother-- doesn’t he want to protect them, even if he was angry at them for.. whatever reason he has. That’s the Romano he knows. The one with a heart of gold, who’d fight to protect his brother no matter what the hell he had going on in his mind. But. Right now he really is just going to get them all killed, not even because of the Thing or whatever else could be lingering around the corner, but he’s actively trying to kill him right now, it feels like. Lutz just wants to help everyone make it out of this. Doesn’t he want to? He’d be gentler with the poor man, he knows he must be freaking out, scared, or worse.. but he can’t use gentle words right now. Oddly enough, they just aren’t coming to him.  He lets England go to stand on his own two feet in the same moment he’d let Romano do the same, only to swiftly move to grab the second by the collar of his shirt, and slam his head against the wall.

It was a quick move to knock him out efficiently and with a quick amount of ease so his yelling and fighting didn’t make the situation even worse than it already was. He’d.. he’d wake up soon enough, and yes he’d be mad, but then they’d be in a safer spot.. he hopes. Boy, does he hope. Gloom shadows over Lutz after having to do such a thing, putting the italian safely down on the ground so he and England could walk into the room where..  

he thought they were safe.

[germanhimbo]

Do you need any sutures? I've a sewing kit and some scrap fabric laying around.

The German man.. nods, but he swallows with a grimace as he, Romano, and the 1P Englishman rush away from the room getting smaller and smaller behind them. In search of what, even? There was so much information moving so fast, he was hardly able to catch any of it.. something about keys.. a contract.. a clock? Some numbered code.. there.. there was an eight he thinks. Maybe if things weren’t going so fast he’d be able to keep track of it all. Lutz knows he’s good at following orders, but usually he’s told clearly things he needs to do, even if he hates thinking about that. He hates thinking about all of this, really. Not to mention, his friends are back there are likely fighting for their lives, he knows how strong these Things are.What did Romano just ask..? Oh.. right.“Ja.. but, I don’t feel good leaving Luciano and Oliver back there like that.. or Feliciano. We should have stayed back to help.”

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

“Italy…. He’s going to die.“

So England’s lingering suspicions were correct.

That bloody idiot.

How could he just allow himself to overexert himself like that?! Even though this was a dead loop already, he knew that, but keeping as many people alive as possible was one of the main priorities. However, a haunting thought crossed his mind. 

Romano too signed the contract.

If he dies…

England didn’t know how much power he had left. So if something happened… He didn’t know if he could take them back. As much as it both scared and pissed him off to think this way, for all of their survival, they would have to make sure Romano survived so he could perform the spell.

FUCK.

If that’s how it had to be just for all of them to make it to the next loop, then so be it.

“Romano. Can you stand? Can you walk or run? Or does ‘Germany’ have to carry you? I can help ease the chest pain, you just have to tell me what you need.” Despite his concern, England’s tone was that of matter-of-fact, in turn holding out a hand to help him up from the other side.

“As much as I hate to admit that this guy is right, time is of the very essence.”

Was he being callous? More than likely. But right now, without knowing the status of that other Italian being able to do the same as Romano or Italy and with the lack of knowledge as to his own status, Romano was their last hope.

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

“Hör pferdammt auf dich zu entschuldigen- Topio, I can stand. While it hurts like an absolute bitch, I can move.” ((Trans: Stop fucking apologizing- idiot))

[-5 health]

“Oh guarda, un genio.” ((Trans: Oh look, a genius.))

Just because it feels like his heart is going to give out doesn’t mean his mouth is.

”Just support me before I curl up like a sea cockroach. We’ve got no time to lose and, you, ventagli, warum redest du mit mir als wäre ich ein gopfershtuzer old man? I’ll punt your tall ciambella ass to the moon if you do that.“ ((Trans: why are you talking to me like I’m a fucking old man))

Romano’s not going to let himself slow down everyone else. That’s just being a prick. He has standards.

Chances are, big guy over here, can support him better than that posh NEET (who had clearly never shaved his eyebrows before). He takes the German’s hand and supports most of his weight against the man.

He’s not going to lie- it felt like he got food poisoning all over again but it was much worse this time around. Why does he have to suffer from that lanky psychopath’s deteriorating health? Oh wait- (If he actually decided to expend energy, he would’ve rolled his eyes) it’s because he tore up that book.

“Oi, unseasoned tweed genius, clearly you’re calm about all of this to know something about this mansion as well. How important was that bible and, once we get the keys and head to that clock strawberry chiffon mentioned, how do we turn back time?”

He grunted.

“Alright, kids, there’s no time to waste. We need to go.”

[germanhimbo]

He’s not going to argue with Romano, not right now, they need to go, wherever they’re going– the attic? Fast. Lutz starts pushing ahead after the italian’s up on his feet to start getting up there as quickly as possible.. but then suddenly, he hears it. The scream. It sounds like Feliciano but. No. No it’s not. He’d know that scream anywhere, its Luciano, and if he’s screaming out like that.. then that must mean.. Lutz blinks.

They can’t just leave him. They can’t. No matter what’s going on– the goal right now is all so vague and shapeless, and no one is explaining anything that isn’t confusing but– but people aren’t unknown goals. People aren’t things to leave behind, at least, not something he can. He can’t even stomach the fact that he left them behind in that room like that to begin with. Lives aren’t bargaining chips. And so Germany makes an executive decision, things he hardly ever makes, without even speaking. He turns back around, and first scoops Romano up into one of his arms, before picking up England over his other arm. Adjusting them on his shoulders properly, he full on starts sprinting back. Enough time has been wasted just talking about wasting time and talking about getting a move on. 

So now they’re going. “Sorry, but we need to bring Luciano and Oliver with us, and I am not leaving you two.” If only he knew.

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

“……………….!”

That guttural scream. 

“What… Was that?”

England didn’t even have the chance to bite back to Romano’s insults, when the arguing was quickly silenced by a piercing, primal sound that could even wake the dead.

He didn’t recognize that voice right away, it wasn’t Italy.

It was–

That possibly meant–

Before the Briton could even attempt to comprehend what they had just heard, he felt himself being scooped up like a rag doll and thrown over ‘Germany’s’ shoulder, yelping out of pure surprise before unintentionally snapping right in Lutz’s ear.

“HEY! I can run on my own put me down!” Even though he knew such protests were futile as the pair of them were carried easily like two sacks of potatoes down the stairs back down toward the second floor where the other group was left behind.

If only he knew what awaited them. Even though it was clear that it was a lost cause to ‘save’ this loop already.

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

H̸̱̳͚́̔ë̶̙͓́ ̸̥̳͓̀̄S̸̘̙̱̎ ̴͉̽́͗ͅĊ̶̖͍ ̵̢͒͐R̸̨̭̖̅͘͘ ̷͔͎͓́̒̒E̴̲̠̿͌ ̶̛͈͝A̵̘̠̹̓ ̸̛̹̞͚͊M̴̥̞̌ ̸̪̬͌̃E̸͕̍ ̶̻͕̘͐̎D̶̏ͅ ̷͙͍̏̐͘.̵̢̹̰͆͆̀

nononONONONONO.

HE’S DEAD.

Good riddance.

Lorenzo squirmed desperately in the German’s grip.

“Put me down.”

He wasn’t sure if he sounded more desperate or in grief.

This was a nightmare. Years of doing absolutely peachy and who knew being hauled like a sack of potatoes would lead him back to this; Back to the minute of his nightmares— about to be starved of air and have his life depleted by the hands of someone stronger than him. He can’t afford that. He was better than this. He wasn’t helpless anymore. He needed to save himself. 

“Häsch en ecke ab?!”

It was right there too — the attic was only a few steps more and they would’ve been there if this zoccola hadn’t turned around. He was only a few steps away from fixing this. His throat was raw. If it was just static that came out of his mouth he couldn’t give less of a shit as long as the message was sent through. He had one chance to scream and he expended it. 

Lorenzo was starting to get lightheaded.

The scissors… He’d trained for this. 

He stabbed the blunt metal end of the closed scissors into Lutz’s underarms with the intensity of Veneziano’s death and his rage all combined into one.

He doesn’t care if the stranger bleeds.

Everything he felt was a throbbing, stinging pain, antagonizing each of his movements attempting to corrupt his train of thoughts. He could do this. He can run — crawl if he needed to — and get the key and go to the kitchen next.

He had to fix this before he was all alone.

[germanhimbo]

“ARGH–” Romano stabbed directly up under his arm and into him, the blunt end of the scissors only not digging further up into him because he throws his shoulder up. The italian get slammed against the side of Lutz’s head, and his grip on him loosens, though he can feel blood running down the side of his chest. That stings, badly. Maybe the only reason he’s not feeling it worse is because of the adrenaline running through his veins, but Gott is that bad. The cut can’t be clean. “Halt mal! Gh.. don’t you realize that we need to go together? Trying to do any of this shit alone is going to get us killed!” He shouts this, uncharacteristically to himself. Lutz hates yelling so much, but right now it feels needed. This situation is absolutely terrible, but the reality of it is– is that they need to stay with one another, and that their lives are so much more important than getting out of here at this moment in particular. The more of them that there are, the better the chance they have at succeeding.

[germanhimbo]

Do you need any sutures? I've a sewing kit and some scrap fabric laying around.

The German man.. nods, but he swallows with a grimace as he, Romano, and the 1P Englishman rush away from the room getting smaller and smaller behind them. In search of what, even? There was so much information moving so fast, he was hardly able to catch any of it.. something about keys.. a contract.. a clock? Some numbered code.. there.. there was an eight he thinks. Maybe if things weren’t going so fast he’d be able to keep track of it all. Lutz knows he’s good at following orders, but usually he’s told clearly things he needs to do, even if he hates thinking about that. He hates thinking about all of this, really. Not to mention, his friends are back there are likely fighting for their lives, he knows how strong these Things are.What did Romano just ask..? Oh.. right.“Ja.. but, I don’t feel good leaving Luciano and Oliver back there like that.. or Feliciano. We should have stayed back to help.”

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

“Italy…. He’s going to die.“

So England’s lingering suspicions were correct.

That bloody idiot.

How could he just allow himself to overexert himself like that?! Even though this was a dead loop already, he knew that, but keeping as many people alive as possible was one of the main priorities. However, a haunting thought crossed his mind. 

Romano too signed the contract.

If he dies…

England didn’t know how much power he had left. So if something happened… He didn’t know if he could take them back. As much as it both scared and pissed him off to think this way, for all of their survival, they would have to make sure Romano survived so he could perform the spell.

FUCK.

If that’s how it had to be just for all of them to make it to the next loop, then so be it.

“Romano. Can you stand? Can you walk or run? Or does ‘Germany’ have to carry you? I can help ease the chest pain, you just have to tell me what you need.” Despite his concern, England’s tone was that of matter-of-fact, in turn holding out a hand to help him up from the other side.

“As much as I hate to admit that this guy is right, time is of the very essence.”

Was he being callous? More than likely. But right now, without knowing the status of that other Italian being able to do the same as Romano or Italy and with the lack of knowledge as to his own status, Romano was their last hope.

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

“Hör pferdammt auf dich zu entschuldigen- Topio, I can stand. While it hurts like an absolute bitch, I can move.” ((Trans: Stop fucking apologizing- idiot))

[-5 health]

“Oh guarda, un genio.” ((Trans: Oh look, a genius.))

Just because it feels like his heart is going to give out doesn’t mean his mouth is.

”Just support me before I curl up like a sea cockroach. We’ve got no time to lose and, you, ventagli, warum redest du mit mir als wäre ich ein gopfershtuzer old man? I’ll punt your tall ciambella ass to the moon if you do that.“ ((Trans: why are you talking to me like I’m a fucking old man))

Romano’s not going to let himself slow down everyone else. That’s just being a prick. He has standards.

Chances are, big guy over here, can support him better than that posh NEET (who had clearly never shaved his eyebrows before). He takes the German’s hand and supports most of his weight against the man.

He’s not going to lie- it felt like he got food poisoning all over again but it was much worse this time around. Why does he have to suffer from that lanky psychopath’s deteriorating health? Oh wait- (If he actually decided to expend energy, he would’ve rolled his eyes) it’s because he tore up that book.

“Oi, unseasoned tweed genius, clearly you’re calm about all of this to know something about this mansion as well. How important was that bible and, once we get the keys and head to that clock strawberry chiffon mentioned, how do we turn back time?”

He grunted.

“Alright, kids, there’s no time to waste. We need to go.”

[germanhimbo]

He’s not going to argue with Romano, not right now, they need to go, wherever they’re going-- the attic? Fast. Lutz starts pushing ahead after the italian’s up on his feet to start getting up there as quickly as possible.. but then suddenly, he hears it. The scream. It sounds like Feliciano but. No. No it’s not. He’d know that scream anywhere, its Luciano, and if he’s screaming out like that.. then that must mean.. Lutz blinks.

They can’t just leave him. They can’t. No matter what’s going on-- the goal right now is all so vague and shapeless, and no one is explaining anything that isn’t confusing but-- but people aren’t unknown goals. People aren’t things to leave behind, at least, not something he can. He can’t even stomach the fact that he left them behind in that room like that to begin with. Lives aren’t bargaining chips. And so Germany makes an executive decision, things he hardly ever makes, without even speaking. He turns back around, and first scoops Romano up into one of his arms, before picking up England over his other arm. Adjusting them on his shoulders properly, he full on starts sprinting back. Enough time has been wasted just talking about wasting time and talking about getting a move on. 

So now they’re going. “Sorry, but we need to bring Luciano and Oliver with us, and I am not leaving you two.” If only he knew.

[germanhimbo]

Do you need any sutures? I've a sewing kit and some scrap fabric laying around.

The German man.. nods, but he swallows with a grimace as he, Romano, and the 1P Englishman rush away from the room getting smaller and smaller behind them. In search of what, even? There was so much information moving so fast, he was hardly able to catch any of it.. something about keys.. a contract.. a clock? Some numbered code.. there.. there was an eight he thinks. Maybe if things weren’t going so fast he’d be able to keep track of it all. Lutz knows he’s good at following orders, but usually he’s told clearly things he needs to do, even if he hates thinking about that. He hates thinking about all of this, really. Not to mention, his friends are back there are likely fighting for their lives, he knows how strong these Things are.What did Romano just ask..? Oh.. right.“Ja.. but, I don’t feel good leaving Luciano and Oliver back there like that.. or Feliciano. We should have stayed back to help.”

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

Romano blinked rapidly a couple of times, his stitching pace noticeably slower than before.

Rationality and logic are two of the most important values he’d been establishing despite his volatile personality polar of that. Now, sure, he could be a bit nicer and, it’s probably going to relieve the tension between him and that damned felt eyebrows hag if he was initially amicable, but it seemed like the guy he was stitching up (dressed in the same palette as his skin care items, might he add) had already imposed it upon himself to act as the neutral resting front. Taking the brunt of the damage quite literally and calming he and that asshole down.

Hell, he did feel inclined to act nicer but wouldn’t it be awkward if he — the one who destroyed that fucking book and almost made his b̴̯̖̂͌r̸͉͐̅͗ͅǒ̵̤͍̏t̴̰̙̑h̵͓̀̚e̵̮̤̅͆͝r̷͕͍͙͋̄ die and/or is dying, antagonizing everything and everyone, being a fucking prick — started being nicer. He shuddered. God fucking dammit why does he have to exist.

Dio, so che non vado in chiesa da un po’ di tempo like a good Italian ma comincerò a pregare perché tu possa rendere questo meno imbarazzante. Grazie. ((Trans: God, I know I haven’t been to church in a while like a good Italian but I will literally start praying to make this less awkward. Thanks.))

He sped up his pace, trying to avoid the gaze of the other two because he had to admit this was making him die of shame inside.

Much like a paranoid victim to a psychopath’s experiments being spatially aware and having his brain run on limitless power, painfully cognizant about his actions but somehow remaining a dumbass— he knew something was missing here. His mouth was on autopilot — as it was most of the time — and he had said things with an absoluteness despite having not the knowledge about it or experiencing it.

He grinned.

“You’re Germany?” He couldn’t help but snort at that. “Ehi stronzo, how hard did that monster hit you for you to think you’re the entirety of a country. You didn’t get hit on the head right?”

That’s one contradiction. Didn’t he call the one with a personality of a burnt scone a country before? Why’d he act so jestingly friendly a while back? At times, it felt like the both of them were quite familiar to him, albeit stick-in-the-ass more so than the Chow-Chow.

Now, as for the fact that Herr “personification-of-the-country-that-banned-red-and-blue-cloth” seemed too friendly towards him— 

“I’ll be honest here, I don’t know who you are or have, to my knowledge, met you yet. This is my first time seeing your abhorrently inerrant rendition of a himbo on both the looks and personality and I’ll apologize in advance if in some case we’d had met before and I didn’t know it. I’m missing the first 15 years of my life here so cut me some slack.”

He grimaced. Fucking h̶͖͙̣̀e̸͙̾̕͝l̷̖͋l̸͚̮̑͂ his right eye feels like it got slammed with a sledgehammer from the inside. If it weren’t for this pain, he would’ve chewed out Schulranzen for sighing so much that it threatens his existence. Not that it actually did but Romano hated silence. It was ominous and hid too much.

He finished off the last throw with a square knot and cut the excess thread with his scissors. He wiped his hands off on his vest.

Romano’s going to smell blood for days.

“Spain?” His mouth felt dry. “What the hell are you talking about?” He snorted. The idea of the Englishman insinuating that that idiot was the entirety of a country. “You’re talking about Antonio?” What an astoundingly baffling joke.

“He’s probably eye-fucking some pinchitos over in the market and is going to have a moment to himself once he gets back to his house.”

At least, that’s what he usually would do.

“If anything, he’d just make it at home and fuck off into the baseme-“

His grin dropped.

Romano felt his heart drop, blood running as cold as the air that monster had brought and paralyzing his limbs with its heaviness. He didn’t need a split-second to realize that Spain died is dead dYING NO, he is alive. The noise of the mansion’s pipes mirrored the beating of his heart.

Shit shit sHIT-

He took a step back, freezing.

[germanhimbo]

Now.. now Lutz was very confused. These two should know he’s one of the Germanies. There’s four of them in total, if you don’t count the Prussia’s!

What on Earth is going on?

He thinks about that as Romano continues sewing him up, but that one part really just strikes him out as even more odd. The first 15 years of his life? Which fully-fledged country here even recalls the first 30 years of their life, god forbid 15. Claiming he doesn’t know him is another odd strike too, but soon that third strike hit him a bit later than Romano really said it. Of course he’s an entire nation, they’re all nations! However, he couldn’t particularly get a word in edgewise yet because suddenly the other stopped.

He seemed to be.. freaking out? At least Lutz thinks he is. He just stopped right there.

“Romano?”

Lutz looked towards him concerned.

“Spain should be okay if he isn’t here.. why were you talking about him like he’s hurt? Plus.. course you know me, Lovino. Luciano introduced you und the other Italies to me back in the 20’s… it wasn’t the best meeting ever, but— agh, are you okay? Und you?”

The last question of concern is cast towards the Brit, who seems just as confused at his existence as the italian. Maybe he should.. try and keep this simple so they don’t walk themselves into a tizzy conversationally, not to mention they have places to be. He’s just so confused in himself.

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

None of this was making a lick of sense.

What were they both talking about?

And what was Romano even talking about? Who was ‘Antonio’? The mere fact too that the Italian was freaking out as much as he seemed to be was also concerning in it’s own right. The look on his face, what he was saying. They weren’t normal. And this ‘Germany’ claimed to know them both, but England had never seen him before.

What was going on? 

Or was this another trick? Was it a trick of the mansion, or was this stranger trying to catch them off of their guard with this stupid act by acting dumb. England wasn’t sure yet, all he could do at that moment was take in what was being said by them both and keeping it in the back of his mind. 

“Romano, I don’t know what you are talking about but you need to pull yourself together. Are you finished sewing him up?” Back to business. At least someone had to be a voice of reason and to keep them on task, the Italies and the other ‘England’ were their distraction. This was a chance they couldn’t waste.

“We need to move. I don’t know how much longer the others can hold out, and the quicker we find the keys and get to that clock, the better.”

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

“I already finished sewing him up. Eat some carrots old man or wear glasses. Your execrable attempt at establishing yourself as the voice of reason is palpable but I can sense your ego radiating as large as your eyebrows.”

He kind of gets it now. For some reason, foreign memories embedded into his brain like a sort of virus and it explains the slip-of-the-tongues; Romano wasn’t particularly known for holding back his tongue or, even, just thinking fully before speaking. The only thing that has kept him afloat until now is never going back on his word. Words spoke of a promise and he’d work to the best of his abilities to fulfill it.

On the other hand, trying to sort through the sporadic memories of himself(?) made him feel like he was being untethered to his physical body, gradually transitioning into a consciousness controlling a body. It was too much. Two types of auto-pilot, two types of muscle memory, and two sets of too many life experiences conflicting against one another.

The most notable effect was the struggle between two philosophies: Let Feliciano suffer for all the pain he’d caused him. Blood saves no one.; Protect Veneziano at all costs. They were brothers- each other’s half. 

He took a step forward.

Then another. He sped up, gesturing the other two to pick up the pace.

“If I’m right, we need to head into the attic and there should be a box somewhere in it. It should have a key.”

Does he remember full details? Absolutely not. Does he have vivid memories of extremely random areas around the mansion? Yes. And, luckily enough, he got some hints for the attic.

He still feels uneasy about talking about Spain. Antonio? And then the fucking psychopath versus Veneziano. 

Romano felt a sharp jolt in his chest. (Veneziano…) He keeled over. 

He’d be down to take a siesta right about now.

[germanhimbo]

That didn’t really answer any of the questions he had about the other two at all. But at least it’s some kind of answer about what they’re looking for.

He guesses.

Why does this guy seem to know so much about it anyway..? What makes him so sure about any of that at all, Lutz is fairly certain no one said anything about an attic at all… maybe he just wasn’t listening well enough. That happens sometimes.

No one seems to trust eachother in the slightest, either.. not like Lovino ever did have much faith in him. After all, he’s a Germany, but Arthur’s apparent lack of trust suddenly makes him feel so strange. Yet another, fifth sigh escapes Lutz, but it’s a quieter one this time. He’ll just follow the other two, and try to be quick about his own pace— they need to make it back soon.

Sheiße, this is going to be one long trip.

[absolutelyinvincible-deactivate]

“And I think we can stand not to have to deal or listen to any of your smartass lip right now. Someone had to step up since you clearly weren’t going to and I doubt ‘Germany would be able to either.” This stupid, petty arguing was pointless and getting them no where, taking a quick glance toward their other companion. The only thing that England could glean from him at the moment was nothing more than confusion and resignation, it seemed as though he would listen and follow whatever they would say.

That was at least something.

Following Romano out of the room and gesturing ‘Germany’ to follow, the trio bolted down the hallway and up the stairwells in their fast-paced trek toward the attic. When the Italian however mentioned the key was hidden in a box, he had no time to question it. A clue was a clue, so that’s what they had to split up and find upon getting to the fourth floor.

Then, once they made it to their respective floor, Romano suddenly collapsed to the floor.

Something happened.

“………..”

England practically skidded to a stop at the top of the fourth floor stairs, staring in shock for a second at the sight that just happened right before them.

Something… Happened to… Did something happen to Italy?

Rushing toward the other and kneeling down next to him, practically barking at Lutz in return.

“FUCK– Help me with him will you?!”

[ask-vargas-deactivated20210602]

“I-Italy.”

His heart was beating with such fervor- each beat feeling like the waves of a tsunami crashing against coastal rocks. 

“He’s going to die.”

It’s inevitable at this rate. The pain told him so. There was only one way to fix this and it was to start all over again. But, that time around, he had to also work towards working together with others. He was a hypocrite- having prepared himself to chastise Italy for thinking he could fix this all on his own and, yet, he does the exact same thing.

“Just fucking help me up and let’s get to the attic. We need the key. I need to fix all of this.”

[germanhimbo]

Romano collapsing like that was more than concerning enough for the Germany to immediately push his way up towards him in the hall. He was moving as soon as England spoke up, practically a moment before. He knelt down beside the Englishman in front of the Italian, a hand hesitating.. he wanted to put a hand on his back in order to help him stand up but– Mnh. He just offers the hand instead, concern filling him to the brim from the insinuation that one of the other Italies was going to die– he.. he just said Italy, he didn’t say which or who or– verdammt. “Es tut mir leid, aber, steh auf. Schnell, bitte, bitte. Wir müssen jetzt gehen, damit wir zu ihnen zurückkehren können,” he starts talking rather quickly in German, his tone concerned as he helps Romano to his feet. “Sie werden nichts selbst reparieren, seien Sie nicht dumm. Wir alle müssen.”  ((Trans: “I’m sorry, but get up. Quick, please, please. We have to go now so that we can return to them” || “You’re not going to fix anything yourself, don’t be silly/stupid. We all have to.”))