aphanon_meme | part 359 survival horror tropes

part 359 survival horror tropes

Hello again meme! Can you believe all these new updates? I love it! I hope we see more historical stuff, though ~~and not just emperors~~. Also more of that Denmark, whatta guy.

Enjoy part 359!

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[Turkey's not used to fighting with a sickle - any peasant uprising he's had to deal with was centuries ago - but he's always loved a challenge, and it seems he'll get one]

[he grins when Lithuania blocks, calculating how much harder he'd have to push to overpower him, and shifts his weight to intercept his strike but slams the sickle down and out, changing gears last second against the feint, barely catching it]

Good, good!

[he's laughing now, because this might be harder than he thought. Swords have agility on their side, but he'll just have to be harder, better, faster, stronger so he brings the sickle down for a chop at where Lithuania's neck meets his shoulder]

[His own expression verges on grim as Turkey catches the feint. It is thrilling on some level to be able to fight like this, which probably shows in his eyes, but his self-preservation instinct is too strong for him to actually be looking for death here. As he shifts his weight through the strike he's keeping his eye on that point, still wary of where it might land if he doesn't.]

[The next chop is harder to catch, and at a weird angle too--one advantage Turkey has here is mobility, unusual weapon or not. He does manage to stop the blow before it hits but it jars his arm, and his counterstrike is aimed more at Turkey's hand than at his shoulder like he wanted. He's unsure if Turkey really thinks that was good or if he's just playing with him, but he's definitely strong enough to do some damage if he gets any serious hits in.]

[the strike to his hand is refuted easily enough by some quick footwork as he dances back a step. It gives him leave to pause for a moment and consider his opponent. How serious he looks!]

Know, if you keep frownin' like that, you'll come back with wrinkles.

[he's just joking but the silence is unusual for him - he likes trading barbs while trading blows. And hey, if the bait riles Lithuania up too much, he'll just make exploitable mistakes]

[his next move is lunge with a sweeping underhand slash. Don't feel too gutted if this one lands cleanly]

[Silence is more his thing, especially when his opponent is trying to rile him up. He's guessing that's the aim here, although Turkey isn't doing a very good job of it. It takes a lot more to get under his skin.]

I'm not too worried.

[He means about the wrinkles, but Turkey is free to assume he means about the fight too. As Turkey lunges forward he manages to stop the slash before it touches him, although the sickle does leave a thin tear in his sweater. Great. Instead of backing off he bears down on Turkey's grip, trying to unbalance, disarm, or create a new opening.]

[well, Lithuania keeps a cooler head than most of the Balkans ~~and himself~~, he'll give him that, but that he managed to drag something out of him was really his aim so it's a small victory for Turkey]

[or would be, if he had a chance to gloat about it. He doesn't have his blade at a strong defensive angle and he has to tighten his grip or lose it, and the thing about sickles is that they're curved]

[he can't disengage]

[the only thing to do is try to overpower Lithuania, so he digs in and pushes back]

[It would be possible for Turkey to rile him up, but it would take more personal insults, and he's not sure Turkey is willing or able to do that just now. He'd be proud if he knew he was keeping Turkey from gloating, though--his specialty is keeping his opponents a little uncomfortable, and that seems to be working with Turkey now too.]

[He probably should have expected that reaction, but it's still a little surprising to feel Turkey digging his heels in. He raises one eyebrow as he leans into the contact, almost daring Turkey to break it. Considering the position he still has the advantage in theory, so he doesn't let up. Hopefully the sickle won't break before Turkey decides to let it go. They'd probably both get hurt.]

[eh, nah, he doesn't really know Lithuania well enough to throw something really personal at him and no motive for anything hurtful besides. He was just going for a bit of distracting banter to spice things up - not that it helped him out any]

[it's his turn to look grim at their stalemate. He's at the disadvantage and he knows it but backing down would leave him more open than he is now]

[he's got no choice]

Oi, Lithuania.

[the clashing metal starts to screech]

I gotta take a piss. Let's take a break.

[your move, buddy]

[Excuse him?? That announcement is a shock, and while he's not going to allow a break it does distract him from putting all his weight against Turkey's hands.]

Wh--No! You wanted this, you can't just take a bathroom break in the middle! You should have gone before we started.

[And frankly, he has no idea if Turkey is serious or if he's bluffing. The effect of all of it is that it sounds like he's talking to a misbehaving child, though.]

[hey, it might've been conveniently timed, but he came into this place looking for a bathroom! He just didn't have to GO completely before the fight started. ...He can't say that or he really will sound like a child]

Why not?! S'part of bein' a good sport! You had to go, I woulda said yes!

[but it does serve as enough distraction to safely slip out of their deadlock]

[sadly, now he's mentioned it, he can't help but be distracted by the pressure of having to pee god damn it, this has not fully worked out for him ...but at least now he knows not to be merciful. He's already gearing up for another attack]

[Yes, he really would. If Turkey said that out loud he'd never live it down, and he still wouldn't get his bathroom break.]

This isn't a sport, it's a fight. If you want to play a game this isn't the place or time.

[As Turkey moves away he's preparing for another attack too, keeping low this time and trying to unbalance Turkey as he comes in from the side. For now he's unaware of Turkey actually having to pee, but maybe that's an advantage(???) He still wouldn't know how to press that if he knew about it, though.]

[and here it is, Turkey's infamously short fuse has been lit]

I'll be damned if it ain't a game! Someone's forcin' us to put on a show, might as well give 'em a good one, but that don't mean you gotta piss all over good sportsmanship!

[says the guy who killed a kid 'cause he got mad]

[and shit, this blow isn't gonna be easy to block. He's liking his sickle less and less. He turns with a mighty two-handed swing but the flimsier make of the sickle can't stand up to the heartier sword and it scrapes alone the blade, diverting it just enough to slice deep into his left arm]

[he curses, has to take a step back from the pain, shifting from foot to foot. But all he can do is shake it off, splattering blood across the pavement, and lash out wildly to drive Lithuania back]

Sportsmanship? We've been manipulated, starved out, drugged, and recorded, and you're worried about sportsmanship?

[He can see prioritizing peeing because the bladder waits for no man, but seriously? Those are some messed up priorities. Maybe try him again sometime when he hasn't been wandering around on his own for several weeks. It's not exactly good for him.]

[When he feels the sword cut into Turkey's arm he feels a slight thrill of adrenaline, letting Turkey breathe just long enough for him to step away. That wild slash is obvious enough that he can mostly dodge it, but the sickle does graze his shoulder. In the moment he doesn't even feel it. Instead of moving back he steps to the side, striking at Turkey's wounded arm again. If they're going to do this, he's going to really go for it.]

[yeah he's worried about sportsmanship - it's the only damn thing they can control themselves despite everything. But he doesn't know how to say that and rising anger and pain don't lend themselves to rationality...]

Fine! Jus' shut up an' kill me before I kill you!

[that'll simplify it]

[just the clang of blades and the spilling of blood]

[the strike he blocks with his own upward thrust, putting his full strength into pushing it back, injured arm tight against his side as a hazy plan sparks in his mind: he can see that stupid pit of balls behind Lithuania and if he can just maneuver him in that direction...! He inches forward]

[Well, he would get that if Turkey could put it into words. Although he's been controlling himself the whole time (minus that part in the fuck fields), and where has it gotten him?]

[That works for him, so instead of bothering to reply he focuses on the fight. As Turkey moves forward he moves back, wondering yet again about disarming him. With only one usable arm, his temper up and his reflexes possibly dulled he's not as much of a threat, but that doesn't mean he's underestimating him just yet. With his next swing he aims for Turkey's chest, a small part of him wanting a quick end to all this.]

[ain't that just the way]

[it's good not to underestimate him, after all his specialty is engaging in endlessly drawn out conflicts! though Lithuania isn't wrong either: while he gets the sickle up in time to claw the sword aside, the tip scratches a painful (if not deep) line across his chest]

[but he doesn't have time for that. He lets the pain drive him mindless, reckless, and while he has this slim window of opportunity, he shakes his sickle free and charges forward with an overhead downward blow. Even if Lithuania blocks this one, he's hoping this will be enough to get him to trip into a sea of plastic balls]

[He's actually surprised as he watches the sword bite into Turkey's chest this time, and it shows on his face. That should have been something Turkey could handle, but if he can't that means he's wearing him down. Maybe this will be over sooner than he thought.]

[The next blow from Turkey gets blocked too, but the sheer force of it pushes him back a couple of steps. Unfortunately he's not paying attention to where he's stepping, and one of his feet lands awkwardly on the edge of the ball pit. That's enough to unbalance him and he falls on his butt in the pit, his free hand moving to catch himself on reflex and his sword hand lashing out at Turkey's knees.]

[despite the fact that he's the one that got wounded, Turkey lets a smirk flit across his face at Lithuania's surprise, knowing the trap he set is about to be sprung...!]

[that fall is all according to plan but he didn't account for an attempted strike as Lithuania goes down. He jerks back on reflex, manages to deflect it with a side swipe more by instinct than anything else]

[he only allows himself a moment for a deep breath, hissing out on the exhale from the sting of his injuries, before he's stepping up to the pit, looming over Lithuania with a downward hack at his heart, convinced the balls won't give him the leverage he needs to twist out of this one]

[By the time he actually swipes at Turkey he's acting on pure adrenaline, because this is not the kind of position he wants to be in. Getting dumped on his ass and then stabbed is exactly how he died last time, and he's not keen to repeat it. When Turkey blocks he tries to calm himself down a little, hyper-aware of the pained way Turkey is breathing. Good.]

[That hacking movement is not so good, however, and dodging something like that in a kiddie pool version of a ball pit is not going to be easy. With approximately the grace of a dying fish he rolls so the sickle catches his arm instead of his chest, wincing at the pain of it and trying to kick out at Turkey's shin at the same time. Even like this he's not going to just lie here and die. That arm is going to be significantly less useful now, but he takes a little comfort in the fact that Turkey has one of his own to match.]

Edited 2015-03-02 23:33 (UTC)

[shit, okay, that wasn't what he was aiming for but taking out an arm when he's got Lithuania down like this is still a huge plus]

[he's wrenching his weapon free from flesh when the kick connects. Bent forward as he is, it's enough to send his knee slamming down on the rim of the pit which gives under him]

[his besickled arm flails out wildly in a useless attempt to reestablish balance as the buoyancy of the inflatable pit sends him sideways. His injured arm plunges into a sea of plastic orbs and buckles, unable to hold his weight, and with a yelp he topples like the last domino in a sequence and cracks his head painfully on the concrete, left arm twisted awkwardly over the rim of the pit]

[Feeling Turkey go down like that is surprisingly satisfying, and as Turkey struggles to right himself he manages to awkwardly get back onto his feet with only a little fumbling over the balls. The pain of his arm will be really getting to him soon, and even now the adrenaline can't completely mask the sting of it. He's going to need to patch himself up fast after this.]

[Even after Turkey cracks his head on the concrete like that he's not entirely sure he's dead, and he allows himself a fraction of a second to admire how difficult this entire thing has been before he aims a quick, forceful blow down toward Turkey's heart. He has no intention of drawing this out any longer.]

[he lays there shocked, staring up at the fluorescent lighting, too stunned to move. The pain washes over him all at once along with the weariness of thirty days trapped on this island. He doesn't want to get up]

[it's only when Lithuania appears over him that the fear hits. His eyes go wide, he tries to elbow himself up, a half-formed No! on his lips but]

[it's too late]

[the sword sinks into his chest with an awful sound and Turkey falls back, blinking rapidly in confused betrayal as the world starts to go dark]

[the last thing he hears before everything goes black is the clatter of a blood-soaked sickle dropping from slack fingers]

[it will take a few moments more for the oxygen in his brain to entirely deplete]

[and when it does, when his muscles relax and his body loses all the control it had in life, there will be no holding in his bladder, the growing pool of urine under him, or its acrid stench mingling with the sick tang of freshly spilled blood]

[he actually did have to go]

[you fucking heartless bastard]

[Once Turkey stops breathing he carefully retrieves his sword, picking up the sickle too and wiping them off on a part of Turkey's shirt that's not covered in blood. He doesn't want to leave it here for someone else to find and use against him later.]

[At this point he was being merciful, because leaving Turkey badly wounded and possibly concussed for someone else to find him wouldn't be kind. Not that Turkey would probably say he's kind after this, but he's a pragmatist all the way and he doesn't let his opponents take bathroom breaks. That said...he probably deserves the pee on his shoes right now.]

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part 359 survival horror tropes

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