Kahdeksan ♰ Action

[ex_finnish_604]

[If you were to ask someone that's spoken to Finland more than once, they'd agree that he's almost always smiling or overreacting to something pointless. However, nobody can smile forever, and Finland isn't an exception. Despite being the "odd one out" of his family, he did share some of their traits. The infamous Nordic lineface wasn't one of them, but if one happens to be anywhere between Brady Lane and Mitchell Road (precisely house number 1450), they'll have the semi-rare opportunity to see Finland with a straight face.

He's more so pondering than upset, yet he's walking with his eyes to the ground, not to mention that he's carrying a rifle on his back. It may take him a moment to respond, but you're more than free to bother him. Something just doesn't seem right.]

Comments

[atvaere.livejournal.com]

Ain't no goddamn point. [ Snapped, tiredly, looking back sharp at Finland. ]

[survived]

So you're resigning to death? You're just going to wait until you die and suffer all the while?

[He adjusts his expression to match Denmark's.]

You're stupider than I thought.

[atvaere.livejournal.com]

[ He struggles to sit himself up a bit, wincing and clenching as it hurts his stomach. He gives up once he's an inch or two higher, glaring at him—hotly, not cold. ] Won't have ya talk to me like that.

[survived]

You can't stop me if you can't even sit up. Why can't you accept help every once in a while? Nobody can do absolutely everything on their own.

[atvaere.livejournal.com]

[ He takes several deep, slow breaths, then tries again, yanking himself up before the pain can hit him completely. It does then, of course, and he clenches his mouth hard, sitting up, face screwed, head thrown back at the ceiling. Pure stubbornness. Look—he can sit up. ]

[survived]

[And all too quickly he raises his voice without warning pushing Denmark's shoulders down toward the couch again.]

Are you kidding me?! Lay back down, idiot!

[atvaere.livejournal.com]

[ Unexpected. It's his stomach that's white-hot with pain, not his shoulders, but at this point the jolt enough is cause for pain. He automatically balls up his left fist and takes a swing at Finland, but it's weak, loose, not well-aimed. ]

Don't ya— [ He's lost his breath, and can't finish his sentence for catching it. ]

[survived]

[The reaction was half expected, half surprising. He misses Denmark's fist by leaning slightly to his right, but even still, he feels a bit guilty. It takes a moment for him to cast his eyes toward the ground.]

Sorry.

[atvaere.livejournal.com]

[ He has to take a minute before he can reply. ]

The fuck are ya doing here.

[survived]

[And bluntly:]

I'm either going to take you to the hospital or shoot you. It's your choice.

[kongeriget]

[ He's silent, just staring, and then the corners of his mouth twitch up. ] Shoot me?

[survived]

[Oh God, he's smiling back.]

I brought my rifle with me.

[kongeriget]

Don't make me fucking laugh, it hurts too much. [ Still smiling, but the colder edge is creeping in. ]

[survived]

[It only takes a second, maybe two, for his expression to neutralize once again.]

I'm being serious, you know. I'm not going to let you suffer. You have to do something.

[kongeriget]

There's nothing to do. [ He almost mentions that someone magically neutralized what there was to neutralize - even if the failure itself wasn't repaired - but bites that back, staring almost thoughtfully up at the other. ]

[survived]

Well you can't just give up, can you? You're stronger than that.