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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jul 6, 2010 23:44:07 GMT -5
Arthur knew he was dreaming. He had to be. He hadn't held a sword in centuries, let alone fought with one. And yet, there he was, the heavy blade comfortable and balanced in his hand as he slashed through some nameless, formless creature.
But something was wrong. That was a lot of blood, gushing from the sudden hole in his stomach, and the thing holding the offending weapon had such a horrendous grin
Everything was pure. White, in every direction, on every surface, save for the man in front of him. As soon as Arthur recognised the man, though, he fell to one knee, head bowed. "My king..."
Although he felt the hand on his head, Arthur knew it wasn't real. His true king had left so long ago, and had vowed to return only when necessary.
But the hand crumbled, and jade eyes widened in horror as what was once his king crumbled into dust and bones, and if Arthur kept screaming like that, his throat was going to tear apart.
Sitting up, ragged pants filled the room, and Arthur quickly wiped the cold sweat out of his eyes. Dreams like this weren't natural. Walking to his desk and scribbling the details on the first scrap of paper he could find, he grabbed his mobile, dialling Norway's number and muttering about shitty service, praying that there would be an answer this late at night.
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Post by Terje Amundsen on Jul 7, 2010 1:13:18 GMT -5
To say that he was pissed off by waking up to the deafening sounds of his phone ringing at such an ungodly hour was saying the least. He was furious. So, throwing the blanket off himself, his face distorted with a livid expression, he reached over to the bedside table to retrieve the phone and made sure to voice is displeasure.
"This better be fucking important."
He was too old school to have phones with caller display, so if this was Denmark calling him, who he made it quite clear for to never call him pass midnight, may Odin help that man in the morning.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jul 16, 2010 20:14:16 GMT -5
"Terje, thank God," was the slightly shaky response. "I-- No, I don't even know where to start. This dream--" That was just awkward. "I think I had a prophetic dream." Arthur shivered slightly in the cool night air, the sweat on his face dripping onto his notes. "Something's going to happen, and soon. I don't know what, though. I thought maybe you could help." There were maybe four nations that Arthur would trust with this sort of information, and Norway was at the very top of that list. "I need insight."
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Post by Terje Amundsen on Jul 16, 2010 23:53:04 GMT -5
Mind quickly adjusting to the familiar voice of England, he sat up more straightly and held the phone closer to his ear. "Tell me everything" Without good enough explanation there couldn't be a well enough response to the others need for advice. Rubbing his eyes with his free hand, as slight concern grew within him, he added, ".. Because I have been having stranger than normals dreams recently, too" But he being a more silent type for such matters, he didn't bother to mention a thing; except that right now seemed like an opportune moment to tell his own.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jul 18, 2010 0:35:44 GMT -5
Arthur launched into the details, trying to put them into words before they faded as dreams so often did. The fictional king, the way everything seemed to leap at him, how he'd 'died'...
"And that's all I can keep in my head," he finished, hoping Norway's ability to peer into the minds of others would be able to reach enough to understand. "It's-- I'm a little afraid, to be perfectly honest," he admitted, sitting at the foot of his bed and rubbing his eyes with his free hand. "Something's happening, and soon."
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Post by Gupta M. Hassan on Jul 18, 2010 3:13:20 GMT -5
Flat, quiet, dry; traits of the desert, his world. Nothing but, a desert. He could stare at the endless hills of time, the sun blazing across the sky..nothing...but silence. Egypt stood there, looking at the empty land before him until, a figure appear in the distance.
He started walking towards it, not realizing the sand was slowly burying his feet...his ankle..slowly up his leg like a rising sea. Egypt didn't notice, his eyes focus on the figure before him...so close yet so far. He must reach her!
The woman held her hand out to him, saying something to him but, no sound, no voice, nothing. Everything is silent, Egypt reached out for his mother his eyes begging fro help as the sand swell up to his chest. His mother remained where she stand, mouth moving but, no voice. Egypt was almost there, within reach! The sand slowly reached to his neck, choking out air as Egypt cried out for help.
Egypt's eyes snapped open, darting everywhere in the darkness. Panic, he sat up wondering if he gone blind then, he heard his clock ticking, his jackal little whimpers and kicking in his dreams. He blinks, against to the darkness of night and gave a shuddering sigh. The dream..his mother..speaking...reaching for him. Why?
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Post by Terje Amundsen on Jul 18, 2010 9:57:14 GMT -5
Nodding, he took in every last word England was telling him. He did his best to piece what it all could mean, together, while the other spoke. However, one thing in particular caught his attention, even if it just seemed like a minor detail, "This fictional king? Are you sure about that?"
As often as dreams could prophesize and predict future events, it could also bring back one's deepest memories, one's hidden memories. A past long forgotten, even. Nightmares. Even if he was having a similar problem, he didn't care much to think about it, except for right now. If England was having unnatural dreams, and he was as well, it must mean something. Were there others having the same thing? He doubted the unmagical of the nations didn't, therefore, Iceland, perhaps? Maybe Italy? No... he was too stupid for that. Greece? He shook his head. Why was he thinking of nations who have long forgotten the unseen? Then, his eyes suddenly snapped wide.
Egypt.
"You know what, England, save your answer. I think a "meeting" is in order." Standing up from the bed he reached over to his curtains and threw them open. Blinking to the sudden brightness of the night, he searched for the moon whose position indicated it was just past midnight. "I'll be right over, alright?"
A/N: "Meeting" = magical gatherings often had between England and Norway, I guess, hahaha.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jul 21, 2010 18:05:51 GMT -5
Arthur had dressed and put on tea before staring at the scribbled notes again. Something about them seemed vaguely familiar, aside from his namesake, and it was driving him out of his head as to why he would recognise any of what he'd seen. 'I certainly have never been stabbed,' he thought to himself, running a hand through his hair yet again.
"Terje, hurry up," he muttered, looking at the clock again and wondering what was taking the other Nation so long. Starting at the sound of the kettle whistling, he mentally berated himself for being so on edge over a dream as he made himself a mug of his strongest straight black tea.
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Post by Gupta M. Hassan on Jul 21, 2010 18:21:18 GMT -5
Egypt found himself sitting on his chair, thinking over his dream. His jackal gave a gentle nudge on his hand, worry from his master odd reaction. He gentle pats his pet and gets up, perhaps, it's time to get some answers. Thinking over, he grabs his notes he had been taking on guesses of what his mother was trying to say yet, the dream was a blur and left him puzzled as he left the house.
After traveling through air and ground, Egypt finally arrives to a house he rather not be, but in situation like this he had no choice. Magic and visions isn't a funny business and, not every nation tend to take it serious except, maybe a few. He waves off his taxi, who is rather rude to him and left with the money. Egypt sighs and glances at the house, England's house, and walks up t the door.
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Post by Terje Amundsen on Jul 21, 2010 18:37:35 GMT -5
He may have said he would be there right away but he had things to collect and pack up before doing so and he just had to have a cup of coffee to waken his senses a little more. He and England may have several things in common, but when it came to caffeine, that big-browed nation preferred tea. In his mind, a sweet cup of straight black coffee was worth it to be cursed.
So he took his time.
He even had a shower.
Then about an hour later he was whisking himself away to the Brit's place. Like usual, he didn't bother with knocking (Even though he was quite aware of certain superstitions) but as he was about to just let himself in he noticed somebody else beside him. Turning to eye this character better he came to realize it was Egypt, so speaking up he made himself known whether the other noticed him yet or not, "I was just thinking about you."
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Post by Gupta M. Hassan on Jul 21, 2010 20:00:12 GMT -5
Egypt was about to knock on the door until, someone suddenly came walking up and practically opens the door. He blinks in startled and sees it was another nation. It wasn't England or America, or France but this man was unusual. He looked rather pale like he hasn't seen much sunlight (in his view), obvious lived in the Northern areas.
Egypt tried to think of the nation's name until he spoke, "I was just thinking about you." This caught him off-guard though, kept this blank stare at this Northern nation. Why was he thinking of him? Why is he here in the first place? Questions popped in his head as he simply nod to the man in response of 'hello'.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jul 23, 2010 18:59:57 GMT -5
Pulling the door open, Arthur's tired eyes took in them both, eyeing Egypt with slight confusion. However, he had learned long ago not to question people showing up at his door; odds were, they were supposed to be there, even if he didn't yet know the reason. "Come in, both of you," he said quietly as he stood to the side. "The sooner we get this figured out, the better."
A few moments later, he placed a tray with the teapot and (packaged) biscuits on the table between them and sat with a sigh. "Terje," he started, looking at the aforementioned nation, "you know the basics. I suspect you know more than that, too, but that's another story. It wouldn't surprise me if you'd seen something similar." Pouring a cup and pushing it at Norway, Arthur then turned to Egypt.
"But you, Gupta... Why are you here? What did you see? Maybe it's connected." It was with this question that he pushed a second cup toward the African nation, placing an extra teabag in his own to help fortify him for the forthcoming discussion.
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Post by Gupta M. Hassan on Jul 23, 2010 22:24:49 GMT -5
After being invited inside by his ex-controller, Egypt sat on the chair and stares down. He was confused when England mention something about visions so, he wasn't alone. Accepting the offer of the tea, noticing the nation's questioning. Obvious he is trying to get him to talk.
Egypt took his time, sipping the tea letting the warmth flow down his throat. How can he explain it? He didn't like talking about his mother much in a...mother way. It was personal in a way yet, a warning. Sipping the rather strong tea once more, Egypt finally speaks in a monotone voice," Perhaps they are connected. First I want to hear yours.." he look up at England.
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Post by Terje Amundsen on Jul 24, 2010 0:17:47 GMT -5
Quirking a brow at England's assumption, he refused the tea -He already had coffee before he came here. "What are you suggesting that I know, Arthur?" Voice dropping a hint of teasing he averted his attention from the Englishman to the Egyptian beside him and nodded knowingly, like he caught onto something that wasn't even said yet.
"No doubt, we're all having visions of the past... in a nightmarish fashion, atleast I would think so. An exaggerated fear in it's worst case..." Eyes darting around the room, he squinted to get a better look around, muttering to himself before continuing, "... because there's no way the plague could come along again..." Leaning back against the couch he glanced towards Egypt again then back to England. "That's my synopsis on this case."
A/N; I have to be honest here and say I have no idea where this is going... Are we all just dreaming whatever is a fear to our muse?
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jul 24, 2010 11:54:01 GMT -5
"I don't see how mine can be 'a fear of the past,'" he murmured, taking a long sip from his cup. "Arthur only existed once because of... But that's not important. What matters is, it's a sign of something to come." That was a secret England would be taking to his grave.
"The fact that King Arthur appeared is significant, though," he continued, resting his chin in his hand thoughtfully. "Can I assume you both saw something like that? A... a legend, or something to that effect?" Grasping at straws, Arthur struggled to find meaning in the vividness of his vision, and tried to find it in the others' too.
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