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dešimt; action/phone
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.]
[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.]
SORRY I AM A MORON /fixes tense
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.]
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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.]
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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.
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[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.]
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[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?]
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[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.]
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[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.]
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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.]
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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.]
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[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.]
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[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.]
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Only when you put down the sword, Major General.
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[She's doing her best to cover for the screaming, burning, numbing sensation she can feel running through her leg and back up toward her heart. This isn't the sort of precise, ruthless fighting anyone's seen out of her, though. She's clearly buying some time.
She deflects one more blow, then shifts weight to her uninjured leg, leaving her shoulder exposed as she aims for his hand that's not holding the weapon, her blade aimed to skewer his wrist.]
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It's right about then that it hits her foot, so that blade of hers is going to angle up when she can't plant her foot, toward Lithuania's face.
When she hits the ground, regardless of everything else, she'll roll to the side and pull herself back up.]
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