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Post by [x] Iceland on Mar 9, 2012 15:32:09 GMT -5
The dripping sound from the tap was driving him insane.
He'd been meaning to ask someone to fix it but they'd all been away fighting the hordes and his own mechanical skills weren't impressive. For now he'd just have to grin and bare it, whilst he, though mean, awaited someone to come by that actually needed his help. For now, Ice regretted offering to stay behind and man the clinic; the shiny knife around his waist was begging for some zombie flesh. He tossed it up in the air; the dim light of the single lamp caught it and it shimmered. It had only ever been used once and due to the circumstances, Iceland had hoped it'd have been used more than that by now. But still, he stood by as he should have, waiting until someone would stumble in.
"It's been an hour... alright, you can come on out." He whispered, eyes flicking around the room constantly to check for anyone who might happen to be walking around. After a finger click signal, the black and white bird flew out of the cupboard under his desk and fluttered on top of it. Glancing around and looking to see if anyone had left any food around, he clambered over all of the objects on the desk.
"If anyone and I mean anyone comes in here, you're to hide as quickly as possible. Right? I mean it." At this, the bird simply looked back up at him and fluffed his wings.
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Post by [x] Spain on Mar 9, 2012 15:43:15 GMT -5
Spain walked into the clinic after making sure that Prussia didn't burn anything else down. "SeƱor Islandia? Iceland? Are you still here?"
Noticing the silver-haired male sitting at the wooden desk, he smiled and shifted his shirt so that the gash on his upper arm could be seen. "I think that this is your area of expertise."
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Post by America on Mar 9, 2012 18:02:20 GMT -5
America followed closely behind, still trying to catch his breath. He wasn't used to fighting zombies, obviously. Sure, even if the zombies had started out in his territory, he never had to fight them. This experience was new and rather frightening. Especially when that zombie grabbed him from behind. No, don't start thinking about that again, he scolded himself, moving to stand next to Spain.
He winced when he saw Spain's wound. It looked much worse than his own. Or, so he thought. He actually hadn't gotten a good chance to look at his own wound, but the pain was still just a dull throbbing. It must not be too bad, then, he assured himself, glancing over at Iceland.
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Post by [x] Spain on Mar 9, 2012 19:06:17 GMT -5
"Hey, America!" Spain said, ignoring the fact his arm felt like it was on fire. "How are you feeling? I hope my toss didn't hurt you too much."
To him, America didn't seem so much like he was in physical pain, though where the zombies took a chunk of his skin when they fell back after sinking them into his shoulder looked really bad, he had an aura of... something. Spain couldn't quite but his finger on it, but he didn't seem his usual boisterous self.
"You alright, amigo? You seriously don't look too good." He asked, keeping his voice a little lower than usual to keep privacy and putting his hand on America's uninjured shoulder. "Something happen on the way back?"
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Post by America on Mar 9, 2012 20:17:49 GMT -5
"Hey, Spain!" America exclaimed, quickly forcing his face into a grin as the older nation addressed him. He had to look and act cheerful. He had to prove that nothing was wrong with himself, nothing at all. It'd be easy, he assumed. Just smile and act normal. Simple enough, correct? Ah, but who was he kidding? At the moment, he just wanted to curl up on a bed and sleep all of this off. He really wasn't expecting a zombie fight to shock him so much. I'm gonna have to get used to it sooner or later, he grumbled to himself, straightening the glasses on his face. "Oh, no, your toss didn't hurt. I'm cool." He wanted to ask Spain why he wasn't allowed to fight, but he had a sinking feeling that he probably wasn't capable of handling such a mass just yet. Plus, he was wounded pretty nicely, so that might have been part of it.
When Spain asked his next question, America's grin faltered. He felt the country's warm hand on his shoulder and shrugged, wincing when his injury sent a flash of pain through him. Ah. So, it does kinda hurt sometimes. "No, I'm fine. Don't worry 'bout me, really." He didn't want anyone knowing what a 'fraidy-cat he was. After all, he was one of the youngest nations here (along with Wy) and most everyone already knew that, while he was strong and, for lack of better terms, effective in his fighting, he was but a child at heart. He didn't want anyone to worry about him or pity him. Quickly, he changed the subject. "I hope your arm is okay. It looks nasty." He didn't meet Spain's gaze, though, opting instead to stare down at the wound he was speaking of.
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Post by [x] Spain on Mar 9, 2012 20:30:19 GMT -5
"Oh, this little thing?" He raised his arm up a bit. "It kind of hurts, but not really. I'll be fine once I give some attention to it." The cheery nation linked his fingers together and put his arms behind his head. "Good thing we finally have a medic, si? Things could be a lot worse if we didn't have Islandia here."
He looked around, examining the hospital wing and noticed it was in the same state as the rest of the warehouse. Heck, there was even a dripping pipe which could be annoying very quickly.
There's quite a bit to be fixed. He thought, keeping a mental list of things to repair. The pipe, the state of where the bunk-beds where, the kitchen (he had gotten a quick glimpse of it on his way to the medical wing), really everywhere he looked there was something to be cleaned up. I guess all those years of cleaning up after Romano are really going to pay off.
"Oy, America," He said, turning to his blonde companion who once again, seemed off. "If I were to start cleaning this place, where do you think I should start? I was thinking the kitchen - seeing as how everyone's probably hungry." As if in response, his stomach growled loudly. "Eh heh heh, after we eat, of course."
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Post by America on Mar 9, 2012 21:10:47 GMT -5
America smiled when Spain brushed off his injury like that. He's always been really cheerful, almost cheerful enough to rival myself. Actually, at the moment, America noticed that Spain was more cheerful than he was. Right. Well, I can't let him do that to me, can I? He was determined to be just as happy and carefree. Once he got over his initial shock, that is. Still, he refused to let it overtake him as it did out on the battlefield. "If we had a medic, I dunno what I'd do," he truthfully responded, mussing his blond hair. He had supposed that England would be one of the nurses-doctors-whatever, but he was actually quite thankful it wasn't. If his medical skills were anything like his cooking skills, they'd all be screwed. Besides, he liked Iceland, despite not really knowing him for long enough. He seemed like he'd be able to heal whatever wounds he came across.
He glanced back over at Spain, finally able to look at his green eyes without feeling ashamed for being scared. As a matter of fact, most of the fear was now leaving him, although he felt the pain on his shoulder start to throb a bit more. It wasn't nearly enough to worry him, though. "Kitchen would be awesome!" he agreed, managing to actually give out a legitimate grin, thinking of the food he would consume once he got his shoulder checked out. "I'm starving, too!" Indeed he was. Fighting can do that to a person.
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Post by [x] Spain on Mar 9, 2012 21:21:28 GMT -5
Thinking about the kitchen made the tomato-loving country realize something. "Do you know if England is the one cooking?" The very thought of the worst. cooking. EVER. made him shudder, even though he was never cold. "That would be muy mal..." He honestly didn't want to think about the tasteless island nation's lack of good food. At least America's food had tomatoes in it! England's didn't even have that!
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Post by England on Mar 9, 2012 22:32:26 GMT -5
"Alright, alright, what's the commotion?" England sighed as he pushed the cloth flap open and strode into the infirmary, immediately spotting America and Spain next to each other. His eyes darted across their figures, analyzing their movements and reactions, down to the slightest twitch of their face muscles.
He could feel the weariness radiating off of them from where he stood.
"I think we could all use a warm meal and a good night's rest now." he scratched his head, smearing more blood in his hair and groaning in disgust. "And a shower. Most definitely a shower."
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Post by America on Mar 10, 2012 7:48:49 GMT -5
America was chuckling when Spain mentioned England's cooking, and when England actually walked into the infirmary, the blond nation had to bit down on his lip to keep from laughing anymore. It wouldn't be a good idea to piss England off today, not after the battle they just had. Luckily, he was able to control himself and looked over at his former caretaker, a small smile still on his face.
"That would be nice," America agreed. "A few hamburgers, specifically. Hey, you know what we need in here? A McDonald's. Like, instead of having the kitchen, we just build a McDonald's." He nodded, thinking how oh so nice it would be to bite down on a large, juicy Big Mac and stuff his face with those salty, greasy fries. Then, he'd wash it all down with a Coke and grabs seconds. If there's one thing I miss most of all, it's good ol' Micky D's, he thought, sighing.
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Post by [x] Spain on Mar 10, 2012 10:09:05 GMT -5
Spain jumped a bit when England entered the infirmary. The last thing he wanted to do was make the already tired former pirate angry with his comment about his cooking abilities (or lack thereof). To his relief, his companion distracted England just long enough so that he wouldn't look like he was talking about him. "Once I get the greenhouse organized and cleaned up," Spain said, turning to America, "We might be able to replicate your McDonald's to some extent." On his trip here, every once in a while he would find a mutated animal that was safe to eat; most notably a deer or two. With some time, he might be able to at least make the young nation something similar to his comfort food.
Which gave him a brilliant idea. "I know!" He said, excitement in his voice. "Why not have a 'comfort food' day for everyone? We all miss our homes, so having a day where we can enjoy our favorite foods - or something like them - would keep our hopes up! And even better, we could show each other how to make them too! I think that would help out a lot!" Of course it would take some time to get all the food together because of the state of the greenhouse, but working with the earth was something Spain loved and with his dedication, it wouldn't be all too long.
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Post by England on Mar 10, 2012 12:10:28 GMT -5
"Well, if you think you could manage that..." England sighed. He, too, would give anything for a fresh batch of scones and some warm, well-brewed tea right now, but those were commodities that could only be sent over from Europe, and so, he didn't know when they could get their hands on flour or tea. Thankfully, they had bread stocked in the cupboards, but what if that bread ran out?
The last thing they needed was starvation plaguing them.
"But one thing we WILL not EVER have is an unsanitary, disgusting kitchen in which we produce entirely-fake, horrid, dripping-with-fat-level-of-greasy, clogging-up-your-arteries-with-every-bite slabs of meat and sawdust stuck between two slices of bread and called food." he huffed irritably. If one thing came from their lack of luxury in this warehouse, it was the lack of annoying sounds that came from America when he ate. No sodas to slurp, no hamburgers to chew loudly on. This, he could live with.
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Post by America on Mar 10, 2012 20:47:25 GMT -5
The last thing America had been expecting was for England to agree to Spain's request. Now he could honestly say that perhaps the smaller nation wasn't just a party pooper. Spain's idea had seemed like possibly the best idea he had heard in ages, and eating a large hamburger might even take his mind off of the zombies and their ever-growing population (well, minus that huge batch they had just taken down). His face broke into another wide grin, thankful that they were discussing a topic he could easily relate to without feeling any fear. "Spain will manage! If need be, I can even help!" He would, too, if only for a hamburger. Just one would probably make life better.
However, when he heard England's rant about what he could only assume was his favorite food, his face drew into a pout. "Aw, come on, Iggy!" he whined. "Hamburgers aren't that bad! Besides, what about you and your scones? Those taste like sawdust, not my burgers." He smirked proudly before adding, "Besides, I've been eating them for a long time now, and I'm still in perfectly good health and as fit as can be!" Yes, his hamburgers might be unhealthy to some, but he was able to take them perfectly fine. Well, when you're as heroic as I am, of course you can!
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Post by England on Mar 10, 2012 21:46:01 GMT -5
"You wish, those things are heart attacks on buns!" England huffed, crossing his arms. "And they will do no good for your arteries! During a zombie attack, the slowest get eaten first, and I'd hate for you to be eaten just because you decide to fatten up on those disgusting things you like to dub as 'food'." he finished, before realizing what he'd said and turning around so that nobody would see his reddening cheeks. "Not like I would care if you got eaten. That would be entirely your fault, and I will certainly not take a part of the blame." because he knew he'd probably take ALL the blame.
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Post by America on Mar 10, 2012 22:12:45 GMT -5
America blinked, surprised at England's sudden outburst. He wasn't sure what exactly to do now. I had no idea that England took the subject of hamburgers so...well, I didn't know he'd react like this when I mentioned hamburgers. However, when he narrowed his gaze slightly at his fellow country, he noticed something about his body language and tone and- ah. He was embarrassed to be shown to actually care about someone. America relaxed and waved England off. "Don't worry! I won't go down without a fight! Besides, we got all of these guys here to help me, and I'm sure you won't let me die that easily. You'd probably want me for manual labor, since you're too scrawny to do anything."
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