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[fifty]

To be made pretty later.

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[keepscalm]

[Fuck subtlety. England grabs America's arm and yanks his sleeve up to study the injection site himself.]

[fifty]

H-hey--! [There's nothing there, though.]

[keepscalm]

I don't see anything. [America should regret allowing England into his personal space so much.]

[fifty]

Well--of course! There definitely wouldn't be! [He's still a bit flustered, though.] ...What about Ginger? [England better not just grab her and start checking her over.]

[keepscalm]

[He would never do that, Ginger is a lady!] We'll ask her to have a look.

[fifty]

Yeah. ...I'm sure she's fine, too! [He isn't sure, but he can maybe convince himself until Ginger checks.]

[keepscalm]

[And England scrolls through the tablet once more. He's quiet for a moment as his eyes skim the responses to the post.] It looks like it's just people who jumped in. [Or fell in...]

[fifty]

Oh. Then Ginger'll be okay. [But now he's thinking about everyone who ended up in the pit...]

[keepscalm]

[So is England, judging by his sudden silence as he regards all the usernames that have admitted to falling in somehow. The frown in his mouth becomes more pronounced.] I'm not sure that we can discount the possibility of danger completely.

[After all, when they've been split into groups before, it has rarely ended well for either group...]

[fifty]

We're okay. [The three of them aren't marked.] We can keep an eye on what happens.