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@hatchedfromacannonball
I’ve tried to motivate myself into getting back into tumblr rp again several times, but it just doesn’t look like I’ll be coming back here. I’m still on tumblr, on my personal, which is a sideblog linked to this main. and I’m still down to rp in a private setting with anyone that wants to. Just shoot me a message, I’ll still be answering IMs.
@armedandneutral
6. In a room full of all sorts of equipment, handcuffed to pipes
Basch groaned upon regaining consciousness, trying to sit up but only wincing as he realized his shoulders had been wrenched uncomfortably in order to handcuff both of his hands up and back against something he was leaning against. Blinking in an attempt to clear the spots from his vision and the pounding in his head, he realized he was sitting in a dimly lit room full of… it was either torture equipment or some really fucked up bdsm lair. Maybe both? Probably not.
He felt a shifting movement to his side, and turning he realized that somebody else had been locked up right beside him, somebody with familiar white hair.
“What the hell is going on here?” He muttered in angry Swiss German, making an attempt at standing up to ease the pressure on his shoulders and bring his butt up to his hands so maybe he could reach into his pocket and find something useful. “Hey, wake up.” He grumbled, nudging the woman beside him with his knee.
It took Julchen a minute to fight her way back into consciousness, and when she did, she didn’t move for a second, trying to get her bearings. She could tell it wasn’t a good morning by the way her hands were twisted up and metal dug into her wrists, on top of the pounding in her head. Not a good sign.
When Basch nudged her, Julchen blinked her eyes open and, after it took a moment for them to focus, looked around. “Huh, and here I thought the inquisition was over. Fuck.” She was well aware of the difference between torture and S&M, being overly familiar with both, and all of the stuff she could see looked like the former. “Have you seen anyone else while I was out? Or is it just us so far?”
She pushed herself to her feet and turned as much as she could to inspect how she was cuffed: a pipe that ran horizontally at about hip height. Basch was cuffed to the same pipe. although there was a bracket in the middle of the pipe, for support, so they couldn’t slide to the opposite end. “This doesn’t look loadbearing, we might be able to bust it off the wall.” The cuffs on the other hand, felt like a serious deal, far beyond her abilities to just break.
Sentence Starters: Angst-ish
“Are you one of them?”
“You’re just blindly repeating their words.”
“How did you become like that?”
“What did I do wrong?”
“Not one of us is ready.”
“I don’t want to come home.”
“I’d rather be alone than return to that hell.”
“No one’s perfect. Not me, not you, not us.”
“Your lies hurt.”
“We need to stop pretending.”
“We both did horrible things.”
“Why do we keep doing this?”
“You only hear what you want.”
“You can’t have back what’s been lost.”
“Open your eyes. This is reality.”
“I think whatever’s broken inside is irreparable.”
“I’m used to it.”
“I promise I’ll change.”
“I know there’s something wrong, you can’t hide it.”
“This has to end.”
I accept the beer with a small nod before taking a drink from it. The feeling of the beer was enough to calm me down a bit but not much. Hearing the thought of another round of awful made me grimace even more. It had been something I had been coming to fear more and more - and I can’t help but wonder if al those efforts woud be for naught once more.
“It didn’t help at all. Shows that these orgs down’t really care about those out here.. that I’m certain. Perhaps it’s time for it to happen again.” The thought sends me back to the bottle, trying to choke down a groan. It’s enough to send me into a despair and I’m not entirely certain what can be done.
“The periphery always gets fucked over unless the center powers have a reason. I only got help during the Prussian Uprising because the Pope had been one of mine, so he knew how much you guys wanted to fuck me over. When Luftwaffe could’ve saved Königsburg? Nope, they let the Russians flatten it.” She took another drink and set the beer down. Then she did something strange: instead of mirroring the Estonian’s melancholia, Julchen grinned and nudged him. “And despite everyone’s very best efforts, I’m still here and kicking. So are you. If imperialism’s coming back in fashion, we’ll fight it again.”
He sighed, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth. “Your concern is very much appreciated, Prussia,” he said softly. The irritation in his voice was gone. “But it is simply a matter between me and my physician. Ex-physician. And I am quite recovered from my earlier temper.” He shrugged as well, a chuckle coming from him. “I shall have to write a letter for a new one so that will occupy my time anyway.”
“Oh, the one who said wearing pants would make me lose my mind? Can’t imagine that.” Julchen snickered, back to that easy grin that sat on he face with incredible familiarity. Since she hadn’t fallen into some sort of lunacy induced by pants in the past five hundred years, she was rather dismissive of the entire notion. “I take it he said something especially ridiculous?”
I guess Julchen was right. I didn’t really want to admit she was right.. but she was. I let out a small sigh and look at the beer that she has pulled out of the refrigerator.
“A beer would be nice. Thanks” When I said I wasn’t having this conversation stone-cold sober, I totally meant it. I still had to be careful, I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of the Prussian still. “Hm yeah. It does make me wonder why I haven’t lost my mind by now..” Goodness knows there were plenty of opportunities to do so.
“I just.. I don’t feel right. When you know how much you’ve changed and been forced to change by just.. constantly being under someone’s boot somehow - it’s draining.It makes me feel like I can’t trust anything I do to go well before someone swoops in and fucks things up once more.”
Julchen pulled another beer out of the fridge and popped the top off on the counter again before passing it to him. She wasn’t keen on being sober for this talk either, but she was hoping to limit herself a little by sticking to beer. As long as she didn’t get into anything above 20 proof, she would have a hard time drinking herself stupid. The psych degree she had buried somewhere in her office meant she was more than capable of understanding the concept of “unhealthy coping mechanism”.
“It’s possible round two-- or three-- is right around the corner.” Julchen shrugged and pointed out “It was, what, 20 years the last time all of East Europe fought free and then went back under a thumb? So 25 years means we’re overdue.” She took a sip of beer, letting the ominous statement process a minute. “Now we have things like the EU, which counts more than the League of Nations did, but look how much that helped Ukraine, right?”
He stumbled momentarily, a swear leaving his lips before he quickly switched strategies– to a more defensive one. He felt his ribs twinge in pain a bit but ignored it. He quickly brought a hand up to protect his throat, his hand grabbing her wrist and twisting it backwards behind her back.
Jul hissed in a breath through her teeth as her arm was twisted behind her. Despite what she might wish, she was not nearly as strong as Antonio, so she couldn’t stop the counter. “And this is what you’re bringing to the table? Come on.” Still, she wasn’t going defensive: Julchen aimed a kick at Antonio’s knees, knowing they were a weak point. She did make a point going easy, barely a tap compared to an actual kick, because she didn’t honestly want to blow out his knees again.
When people say they ship me with my brother… #aphPrussia #HetaliaCosplay #aphgermanbrothers
