[ March 28th ] Have You Seen This Country?

[Adriaan van Dijk]

"SHIT!" Adriaan shrieked like a girl shouted like a MAN and once again had to leap out of the path of fire. And this time, it was literally a path of fire.

Who the hell carries a flamethrower around with them on a regular basis?! When is a flamethrower ever necessary?

He leaned against a tree, catching his breath, before pointing an accusing finger at Russia.
"You! Do something about her!"

[Ivan Braginski]

Russia had long ago stopped being particularly surprised by the things Belarus carried around with her. Even so, he took an involuntary step back when she procured the flamethrower, and might even have balked a little bit when she proved entirely willing to use it. Furthermore, he barely had time to be relieved that the posters would be taken down before that man was shouting at him again. He plucked uneasily at his collar and ignored the distant, strangely compelling urge to snap that pointing finger right off.

“It is not that easy. I am as flammable as you are,” he reminded earnestly, though what he really meant was ‘I will try but, for your sake, please stay back’. While he knew that Belarus most likely would not set him on fire, he couldn’t necessarily say the same for the Netherlands. He cautiously followed her, trailing by several generous strides. “I think he is only helping,” he attempted to assure her, placating hand gestures included. “No harm in that.”

[Natalia Arlovskaya]

Belarus brought her hands close to herself. She felt so cold and alone and exposed. Why did she always have to mess things up in front of Russia, the one person she only wanted to make happy? A silent tear sparkled down her cheek and she looked up at Russia.

"I'm only trying to make you happy, Brother..." she said in a small voice. Then, all at once, she completely snapped, grabbing him tightly by the scarf and pulling him closer like a fish on a line. "Why can't you appreciate my love for you, darling?"

She smiled largely and laughed a little as she continued pulling. The only time her smile would waver was when she turned toward the Netherlands, "Don't interfere."

[Adriaan van Dijk]

Adriaan was, needless to say, more frightened than he could ever remember being. Something about people that looked sweet but ended up being stark raving mad made his skin crawl.

And then she even had the nerve to tell him not to interfere! Interfere with what, her creepy bipolar molestation? He glared at them both, but kept a safe distance.

He felt bad for Russia, sure, but not bad enough to actually do anything about it.

[Ivan Braginski]

He was only momentarily disarmed by her tears, but that was long enough for Belarus to strike, and Russia couldn't help the little shriek that escaped him when he found himself being seized and roughly hauled down to her level. Luckily self-preservation kicked in, and he frantically performed a flappy-armed panic-dance, twisting in a full circle and leaving Belarus with nothing but the now neatly unwrapped scarf clutched in her hands as he stumbled back, wide-eyed and jumpy. He didn’t care how ridiculous it looked, or that the Netherlands was there to see.

He had been somewhat fond of that scarf though.

“Stop playing,” he snapped, or tried to. His tone held a sharp note of desperation, and he unconsciously jerked his collar closed. “I need to be at the library soon. So, please, either help me with those—“ with a glance he indicated the blackened remains of the poster Belarus had set ablaze, “—or leave me be.” His voice cracked and nearly died despite the seemingly strong words.

[Natalia Arlovskaya]

"Brother, take me with you!" she demanded. Though the scarf was not exactly what she wanted, she quickly balled it up in her arms and took a long sniff of its glorious scent. It smelled of Russia and what a beautiful scent that was!

However, why settle for a mere scarf when you had the real thing in front of you. Trusting the scarf in the Netherlands' hands, Belarus shoved it in his arms. "Guard this with your life," she insistently insisted with insistent insistence in her voice. Then, with her arms held up as if to claw Russia's eyes out with her love, she descended upon him slowly. "Brother~ Don't you know I just want to love you?"

[Adriaan van Dijk]

Being temporarily distracted by trying to work out this weird convoluted incestuous relationship in his mind, Adriaan was jarred back to reality when a recently-sniffed scarf was thrust into his hands and he was threatened for the dozenth time.

Out of pure curiosity, he sniffed the scarf as well. Mmm, testosterone. But then he snapped out of it, because sniffing another man's scarf was decidedly UNMANLY and thus went again everything he stood for.

Actually, scarves themselves were pretty unmanly, so he tossed it back to Russia. Maybe he could use it at a weapon or something.

[Ivan Braginski]

A spark of indignation flickered through the fear and frustration clouding Russia’s face. “What—no!” Almost immediately, he faltered and paled, knowing that Belarus would probably not be happy with that response. “I can’t; I have work to—oh!” He reacted quickly, though a little clumsily, to catch his scarf as the Netherlands sent it sailing unexpectedly into his arms. “Thank you,” he said automatically, balling the article up tightly against his chest and looking rather childishly bewildered as he struggled to regain the lost momentum of his interrupted sentence.

He didn’t have long to think about it though, because Belarus was soon bearing down on him again, and he could run; it would be so easy to run— It was only his white-knuckled grip on the scarf that kept him grounded enough to scrap together an ounce of composure. “I should be going now,” he managed to say, scuttling backwards from her and just barely restraining himself from breaking into an all-out mad sprint.

[ooc: Sorry for the wait. School is manhandling me.]

[Natalia Arlovskaya]

Belarus turned to the Netherlands when the scarf was thrown back to Russia. How dare he? Belarus was going to hang that scarf in her bedroom and use it as an air freshener! (That way, he room would smell of Russia all the time.) She turned around on her heels and faced the offender, giving a loud and angry hiss.

"You were supposed to guard it with your life," she said. Well, if the Netherlands was not going to value his life, she supposed that wasn't her problem. She pulled out a knife and held it up threateningly. "Brother, the things I do for you~"

[Adriaan van Dijk]

Shit shit shit. What the fucking hell was this chick playing at?

In an act of stellar manhood, Adriaan tackled her to the ground and snatched the knife away.

Though it was clearly a wonderful plan, it kind of left him with nothing to do but stand up, brush himself off, and glare at the world.

[Ivan Braginski]

Russia’s attempt to slip away had been half-hearted at best, the chances of escape having seemed far too low for him to have much hope, but now he saw his golden opportunity. Of course he knew the rule that one was not supposed to hit women -- by the same logic, he figured that one was probably not supposed to tackle them either -- but, all the same, he fled for his life the instant that Belarus went down. If Russia knew his sister at all, then she would be perfectly fine, and bless that man’s poor, brave soul when she got up again.

He, however, intended to be as far away as possible when she did, and could be surprisingly fast when the need was dire.

If he saw the Netherlands again (alive), he would be sure to at least ask for his name.

[Natalia Arlovskaya]

Belarus hit the ground hard. It didn't hurt, for she had the stolen souls and laughter of small children to cushion herself from getting too harmed. What hurt her the most was seeing her brother fleeing off in the distance. She reached her arm out fruitlessly toward him. "Brother, wait!" she yelled after him.

Looking back up at the Netherlands, she glared at him. It was now time for war.

[Adriaan van Dijk]

Adriaan watched Russia scamper away, and he felt a strong sense of accomplishment. He was the bold hero of manhood who had just saved that poor man from certain doom.

His victorious mood faded as soon as he turned and saw Belarus glaring daggers of pure hate at him. He gave her a suspicious look and started to back away, suddenly regretting the loss of Russia. (He was big, and would have made an excellent shield.) Adriaan tried to judge what kind of weapons she could have hidden on her person. A sword would be too big, but a gun would definitely be easy to conceal...

[Natalia Arlovskaya]

Belarus tilted her head to the side, her expression that of a fake smile with frowning eyes. Her hair dangled lightly by her side as she bore her eyes into The Netherlands, killing the souls of his unborn future children and sending them to the pits of hells with but a stare. "You made me lose my true love," she said in a quiet voice. The tone of her voice lowered.

"Go get her," her voice was raspy and the shadows hung around her. Somewhere, on the other side of the world, a kitten died.


((OOC: Sorry! Life got in the way and I forgot to log in!!))

[Adriaan van Dijk]

Shit. Shit. If Adriaan weren't such a man, he's be in tears right now.
As it were, he was certainly not trembling in fear. Nope. That shaking was just...excess testosterone waiting to escape.

Good sense dictated that he should run as fast as possible in the opposite direction, but he couldn't resist deadpanning, "He obviously didn't love you very much, seeing how eager he was to escape."