dešimt; action/phone

[vytis]

1333 Benny Road; 4am {Closed to Olivier}

[Lithuania woke early out of habit even in times of peace. In a time like this, he was awake even earlier than usual, pacing the house restlessly but staying away from the windows. The fear had abated somewhat once he killed his target, but he had been worrying since this began--no hallucinations, at least, was better than nothing.

He wished vaguely for a sword--it was a bit ridiculous, given its lack of use compared to guns, but it was familiar, and the machete wasn't quite the same. Well, maybe he'd get one back. But a machine gun or something would probably be more useful.]

Phone; 6am (Closed to Estonia}
Hey, hey, Estija?

[His tone is--not exactly chirpy, but almost sing-song. A dull sort of sing-song, though.]

Comments

[thenorthernwall]

[Far earlier than she would usually venture out, Olivier is dressed and armed and headed for a target. After the kerfuffle killing Dist, and the fallout of some of the things she as seen happen, she's interested in more than just killing.

Information, a truce, anything to postpone a repeat of that nastiness is just fine. It's fortunate, too, that she recalls Liet's address.

Quietly, dressed in dark colors and with her hair tied back, she's making an armed reconnaissance run to 1333 Benny.]

[vytis]

[It's unfortunate--or fortunate--that Lithuania happens to be watching the area at the time. He thinks he spots movement, but while caution is a blessing excess paranoia can be a curse. Instead he waits. They might not be approaching his house at all, and he doesn't need to get into unnecessary fights. He's silent in the house, waiting to see what the possible figure does.]

SORRY I AM A MORON /fixes tense

[thenorthernwall]

[Olivier first headed past the house, crossing on the opposite side of the street, giving it a general look-over. Then, doubling back about fifteen minutes later, she stopped in front of the neighbor's house. Lithuania's home didn't seem excessively guarded or battened down. It seemed like every other house, cookie cutter and "perfect" in every way.

What's more, she didn't see any signs of wakefulness, which indicated to her that he didn't seem wary. Unless he was hiding in the interior, stock still and silent, like a frightened, paranoid animal, she reasoned that she had nothing to fear.

Boldly--perhaps too boldly--she scaled the front steps, pausing to pull a letter from her jacket.]

[vytis]

[His alarm had increased as the figure walked across the street and stared at his house--were they staring, it looked like it--but then they left. Still, no reason to believe they wouldn't be back. He hardly moved from his spot, watching the road, and then indeed they did return from a different angle.

And then walked up to his house.

Eyes narrowed, he slipped over to the door, waiting. Maybe she--definitely female, he vaguely thought he recognized her, but he couldn't tell in the gloom--would go away. Instead, it looked like she was pulling something out of her jacket, and he only had the machete on him, the guns an agonizing walk across the house away.

Instead he flung the door open and grabbed for where a gun would normally be holstered in the same motion.

That in his haste the gun went off wasn't exactly intended.]

[thenorthernwall]

[The entire event was a blur.

She pressed the letter against the door frame, which seemed to give way just as she felt a stinging sensation in her thigh. She knew that sensation. The bullet. The poisoned bullet they'd crafted in her home. It tore through her muscle, and she felt it before she heard it.

Hardly acknowledging who was before her, Olivier staggered backward, letting her letter flutter into the flower beds by the door. The blood flowed hot down her leg, soaking the fabric on her thigh in a matter of moments. Almost automatically, she calculated the time she had left... 55 minutes or less, depending on what happened now. The bullet didn't strike artery or vein, but muscle, making it unbearably painful to walk.

Olivier, though, is an Armstrong, and Armstrongs won't be stopped by mere bullets. Glaring, she put a hand on her sword.]

You were waiting after all.

[vytis]

Did you expect me not to be?

[He doesn't strike immediately, although he thinks maybe he should. The gun is lost in the bushes, and he doesn't have time to retrieve it. Well, she wouldn't have time either. She has a sword, he's jealous.

Well, he has a machete. Good enough.]

[thenorthernwall]

I thought you'd be reasonable. Do you even know why I'm here?

[Seeing no signs that he would back down, Olivier gritted her teeth and drew her blade. Really, she should've run, but Eirin's poison was potent and would fell her regardless. She might as well go out with honor.

Olivier glanced from side to side, evaluating her position. She'd take a defensive stance at first, then see what her options were. How strong was this man, how desperate?]

[vytis]

At this hour, when I'm the only one in my house who received a letter?

[Lithuania watched her, machete held a bit like a sword, taking a step forward to try and at least get her off his front step. The last thing he wanted was to wake up either of the children in his house and get them involved in this mess.]

[thenorthernwall]

How should I know? I'm just delivering a damn letter.

[She took a few generous steps back, tugging her loose jacket closed again. This wasn't going to be easy or pleasant, and that machete turned her stomach. With every passing second, she simply steeled her nerves, unable to will herself to attack. She couldn't see any way that she would be the victor here.]

[vytis]

[The standoff was baffling to Lithuania, though it only made him more nervous; that bullet hadn't pierced anything vital. Painful, perhaps, but she hadn't run and she hadn't struck again. What was she doing?]

If you were, I'll apologize, but it was bad timing.

[His tone proves he disbelieves this excuse. He strikes, finally, keeping light on his feet.]

[thenorthernwall]

Your apology is pointless now. [She hops back lightly to accept the first strike, which actually scratches her blade visibly.]

That's not a real weapon. Pathetic!

[With a grunt of anger and pain, she shoves his makeshift sword back, putting a little distance back between them. It won't be safe to strike until she knows what he's thinking, and how he fights.]

[vytis]

The town hasn't given me a proper sword back.

[He strikes again, again attempting to back her up more. He's aiming for the sword and not her specifically, but he's still watching her carefully.]

[thenorthernwall]

Then fight like a man, with your hands.

[She'll let herself be backed out of the yard with little resistance, as she's trying to get some space between herself and his residence. It increases the likelihood that someone will see him dealing with her body, she figures, and she wants him to suffer a little.

Again, she adopts a defensive posture, not flinching when the machete bounces off her blade and nicks her in the shoulder. But she seems to be having a little difficulty putting weight on her injured leg.]

[webfreedomftw.livejournal.com]

Yes, Leedu?

[vytis]

Oh, good, you okay, I thought you might not be and that would have been bad, I mean at any point really and not just this point, but especially now because--um. Wait.

[Right usually he puts together the sentences in his head before talking, instead of stream-of-consciousness ranmbling. He'll try that this time.]

Okay, so I think I did something bad. Like, really bad. Really really really--well not two really's, more like two really's, but still, bad. It was an accident kind of and I'm not sure how I could have no done it but it was still bad. Did you know bullets could be poisoned? Oh, I guess that's not relevant...

[webfreedomftw.livejournal.com]

Are you trying to tell me you accidentally shot someone with a poisoned bullet? Or did I just mishear all of that?

[vytis]

Yes! [he seems a bit happier than is reasonable that Estonia understood that bit.] Yes, yes. The swordfight part wasn't accidental though but I guess that part didn't matter. Or the putting the body in the lake or the scrubbing it's really hard to scrub blood out of concrete and I had to check the grass a few times but she shouldn't have shown up at four in the morning.

[webfreedomftw.livejournal.com]

... Do you need me to come over?

[vytis]

Oh, that would be good, I mean I don't really feel all that great my head's kind of everywhere--um that's probably obvious--oh I don't mean literally! Well of course I don't mean literally I wouldn't be talking to you but I guess it couldn't hurt to clarify. I could go check outside again to make sure I got everything while I'm waiting I mean I checked a lot like ten or eleven or twelve or thirteen--um.




Yes.

[webfreedomftw.livejournal.com]

Leedu. I need you to shut up and listen to me. It's going to take me a couple of minutes to get there. I want you to go into your living room and sit on the couch and look at your knees. Don't look at anything but your knees. Can you do that for me?

[vytis]

[There's a pause where he is trying to keep with the "shut up" part of that and form something of a coherent sentence.]

Um okay, I guess as long as--um. Okay, I can do that.

[webfreedomftw.livejournal.com]

Thank you.



Lithuania?

[vytis]

Estonia!

[Lithuania cranes a bit to look at the doorway, but he's sitting on the couch still, at least.]

Do you want something to drink or eat--why are you wearing a hat?

[webfreedomftw.livejournal.com]

I just felt like wearing a hat, all right? Now tell me, slowly, what's wrong.

[vytis]

[He frowns, but focuses on what Estonia is saying for once.]

Alright... Well the woman who was out to kill me--or she must have been the one since--wait I'm getting ahead of myself. Um, she came. About two hours ago, well two hours and fifteen minutes, and it took an hour before she was dead--um. She came up to the door and I attacked her and the gun went off and then there was a sword fight except I only had a machete. But she died and when I picked up the things she'd dropped--um we lost the gun pretty early on, I was looking for that--there was this.

[He hands a letter to Estonia in which Olivier was requesting a truce from Lithuania.]

So that was all really really bad, I've decided for sure it's two really's.