[The sweltering temperature, likely enough to fry eggs on solid ground it feels like, is disorienting enough. The addition of massive beastly crocodiles cooling in otherwise still pools is absolutely over the top. Arthur has spent enough time in desert climates to know he ought to make for shade, so he decides to press onward toward the outskirts of what appears to be a very unearthly, fallen city. His suit jacket comes off and he wraps it around his head for a little bit of protection over his face and neck and he loosens his necktie before setting off.
The first crocodile he saw had been a short distance away, the great lumbering thing slid into the water as if it was only half its size. Arthur therefore keeps away from the pools' edges as much as he can--immortality doesn't make being eaten alive pleasant and given that he doesn't even know where he is or why? Well. Discretion is the better part of valor, as the old saying goes.
Eventually the stifling air gets the better of Arthur, who can already feel his fair skin frying nicely under the glare of the unforgiving sunlight. He cautiously moves toward the edge of a pool to drink, but his caution is in vain. After a few sips from cupped hands, the low hiss of a large and irritated reptile immediately alerts Arthur to his peril and he feels his heart drop into his stomach. Arthur slowly drops his hands and focuses his gaze.]
... Hello... Don't worry about me, I'll leave you be. I'm not a fan of you looking at me like that, so if you could, please--[Within an instant the creature moves to leap forward lightning-fast and in the same moment Arthur shouts STOP!
The effect of the spell is immediate--the massive creature's maw is stuck wide open, just short of taking Arthur down by his legs and the lit runes under the old nation's feet are bright and clear before they begin to fade.
Arthur realizes he's cringing instinctively. He slowly relaxes but his heart is pounding in his chest and he stumbles back several paces, a little shaken.]
--To Hell with that! Cutting it a little close, are we? [He wipes the sweat from his brow and quickly moves on before time resumes for that crocodile when the spell wears off.
Whether anyone saw this stroke of luck or not, he isn't paying attention--although he really should be.
All the more reason to find someone, anyone, and ask them if they know anything about where they are and why.
If and when he does come upon a stranger, he will call out to them. It's starting to feel like the start to a novel or film of science-fiction and that's deeply unsettling (though not as much as nearly getting eaten by a giant croc).]
Hello! Excuse me! Can you understand me? [Ugh, he must look a sight with his makeshift head wrap and his burning face.] I've no idea where I am and I'd like very much not to die out here.
Scenario Three;
[The light is more than just a bane for the fair-skinned; it spears England's eyes and incites the hammering trolls knocking heavy mallets on the inside of his skull to hammer even harder. God in Heaven.
What is possibly one of the worst hangovers he's ever had pushes Arthur to seek the shade of what looks like a public establishment--a bar, ironically--and to find a cool corner to make it a little refuge until he no longer feels like an overcooked undead.
By now he's badly sunburned, however, and when he collapses into a chair he nearly collapses onto the floor.]
It's not fair, [he mutters to himself,] I haven't even been drinking.
england (arthur kirkland) | hetalia
[The sweltering temperature, likely enough to fry eggs on solid ground it feels like, is disorienting enough. The addition of massive beastly crocodiles cooling in otherwise still pools is absolutely over the top. Arthur has spent enough time in desert climates to know he ought to make for shade, so he decides to press onward toward the outskirts of what appears to be a very unearthly, fallen city. His suit jacket comes off and he wraps it around his head for a little bit of protection over his face and neck and he loosens his necktie before setting off.
The first crocodile he saw had been a short distance away, the great lumbering thing slid into the water as if it was only half its size. Arthur therefore keeps away from the pools' edges as much as he can--immortality doesn't make being eaten alive pleasant and given that he doesn't even know where he is or why? Well. Discretion is the better part of valor, as the old saying goes.
Eventually the stifling air gets the better of Arthur, who can already feel his fair skin frying nicely under the glare of the unforgiving sunlight. He cautiously moves toward the edge of a pool to drink, but his caution is in vain. After a few sips from cupped hands, the low hiss of a large and irritated reptile immediately alerts Arthur to his peril and he feels his heart drop into his stomach. Arthur slowly drops his hands and focuses his gaze.]
... Hello... Don't worry about me, I'll leave you be. I'm not a fan of you looking at me like that, so if you could, please--[Within an instant the creature moves to leap forward lightning-fast and in the same moment Arthur shouts STOP!
The effect of the spell is immediate--the massive creature's maw is stuck wide open, just short of taking Arthur down by his legs and the lit runes under the old nation's feet are bright and clear before they begin to fade.
Arthur realizes he's cringing instinctively. He slowly relaxes but his heart is pounding in his chest and he stumbles back several paces, a little shaken.]
--To Hell with that! Cutting it a little close, are we? [He wipes the sweat from his brow and quickly moves on before time resumes for that crocodile when the spell wears off.
Whether anyone saw this stroke of luck or not, he isn't paying attention--although he really should be.
All the more reason to find someone, anyone, and ask them if they know anything about where they are and why.
If and when he does come upon a stranger, he will call out to them. It's starting to feel like the start to a novel or film of science-fiction and that's deeply unsettling (though not as much as nearly getting eaten by a giant croc).]
Hello! Excuse me! Can you understand me? [Ugh, he must look a sight with his makeshift head wrap and his burning face.] I've no idea where I am and I'd like very much not to die out here.
Scenario Three;
[The light is more than just a bane for the fair-skinned; it spears England's eyes and incites the hammering trolls knocking heavy mallets on the inside of his skull to hammer even harder. God in Heaven.
What is possibly one of the worst hangovers he's ever had pushes Arthur to seek the shade of what looks like a public establishment--a bar, ironically--and to find a cool corner to make it a little refuge until he no longer feels like an overcooked undead.
By now he's badly sunburned, however, and when he collapses into a chair he nearly collapses onto the floor.]
It's not fair, [he mutters to himself,] I haven't even been drinking.