KingofIceandSnow In reply to Heart-Of-Iron [2015-03-31 22:04:28 +0000 UTC]

Ivan hadn’t wanted to fight. Ivan wasn’t good at fighting. He was too small, too weak, too cowardly. But while all of that mattered to his father, King Dmitri, it had withered away in light of the civil war. As the crown prince of the Kingdom of Clubs, Ivan was expected to fight and by God he would or his father would make him sorry for it. So he was fitted for armor and placed on a horse—not his own, which wasn’t suited to battle either—and sent out at the head of the 32nd regiment. Soft-spoken, diffident Prince Ivan, who preferred the company of dogs to nobles and who more often played dolls with his little sister than played war games with boys his own age. In all things, he deferred to his generals, as he had no idea how to lead a regiment or fight a war. In truth, he was more there as a symbol than of any real use; the generals tried to keep him out of the heavy fighting, but to little avail—he was captured anyway.

The opposing Clubs forces kept him locked in what he could only assume was some sort of old grain silo or slaughterhouse. It was very dark, in any case, and he was chained to a wooden post, which he’d spent a while trying to break before realizing even if he did manage to free himself from his bonds, he was still in the heart of an enemy camp—how would he ever escape? Desolate, he remained where he was. As the overall plan of the rebels was to overthrow the ruling Braginsky family, they saw no need to take good care of their hostage. He wasn’t a bargaining chip for anything more than the Winter King’s total surrender. He wasn’t fed at all, only plied most roughly for information. His wounds were not treated and he began to become accustomed to the dark, so that when the door open he flinched and turned away from the unwelcome light.

“W-who’s there?” He scrambled away from the door, trying to force himself to look at the figure illuminated by the cloudy light from outside. They had taken his shoes and a good many of his layers of clothing, to further prevent his escape (or survival, if he did make it out of their camp); it was impossible to recognize him as royalty unless one had known it already. “Who is it?” His voice was slightly shrill, panic fluttering in his chest. Had they come to do away with him at last? But why send a child his own age to collect him? “If you kill me, it will not win you this war!” he said, forcing his voice to sound firmer and surer than he felt. He could bargain, right? A prince was worth something! They would’ve killed him right away if they didn’t think so, wouldn’t they?

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Heart-Of-Iron In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2015-04-01 03:20:05 +0000 UTC]

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to Heart-Of-Iron [2015-08-26 06:30:57 +0000 UTC]

Sofija's gesture did a great deal to assure Ivan she was telling the truth. There'd be no point for someone coming in to kill him or  move him elsewhere to keep him out of his father's hands. Her words confirmed, in his mind, that she was on his side, and he relaxed, chains rattling quietly as he lowered his hands. There had been an argument over whether or not he needed to be tied up; several soldiers thought it better safe than sorry, while some argued he was too weak to get away, especially by himself. Not that it mattered now, he hoped. The girl in front of him had a sword and it was his sincere hope that she'd be able to dispatch the chains rubbing his wrists raw and bloody. Ivan had never been a great fan of war, though he like to watch the tournies on festival days and such, but experiencing it had been even worse than he'd imagined.

"We have to go quickly," he urged the frightened, but determined young soldier. He swore she couldn't have been much older than him, if she was at all. Probably a peasant, he figured. They tended to enter the army at much younger ages, excepting the royalty, who were expected to lead their troops. Yekaterina only got out of it by virtue of being married and on the other end of the kingdom; if the war came to her, she'd be expected to lead troops as well. The Kingdom of Clubs didn't quibble much about gender when it came to fighting, and Yekaterina could be a fierce warrior when needed, despite her otherwise pleasant temperament. "Cut the chains," he said, holding his hands out to the newcomer.

He was terrified, but he knew this was his only chance and if they botched it, the rebels would punish him. He didn't think they would kill him, as then he'd serve no purpose, either as a bargaining chip or a threat to the king, but one could be alive and wish for death; he didn't want to imagine what they'd do if they caught him escaping, or what they'd do to this girl either. She they'd have no qualms about killing on the spot, or maybe torturing for information. Frantically Ivan tried to formulate a plan, but he hadn't been outside in days, he didn't even know what the current camp looked like. It had been the middle of the night when they hustled him inside this empty granary.

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to Flowerof-Scotland [2014-11-26 18:30:38 +0000 UTC]

(Thank you!)

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Flowerof-Scotland In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-27 00:52:28 +0000 UTC]

(( no problem! I would love to RP sometime ))

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to sataninskiy [2014-11-19 09:05:30 +0000 UTC]

(Yes! I think I owe you an rp already OTL I'm really back this time though, so hmu if you have ideas, or I posed a meme you can respond to if you like!)

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sataninskiy In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-19 11:40:34 +0000 UTC]

outofHell; either after school i'll shoot you a starter, or i'll look at some of your memes and comment; i also have memes up that you can look at if you want! u v u
i've seen how long you write stuff and i love writing long rps so i'm excited sorryyyyyy

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to sataninskiy [2014-11-19 16:35:08 +0000 UTC]

(Okay, whatever works best for you! Haha, I can get a little lengthy, especially with certain people eue''')

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sataninskiy In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-19 20:17:07 +0000 UTC]

outofHell; i love the lengthy stuff <3
i'll check out your memes. u v u

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to Heart-Of-Iron [2014-11-17 15:05:04 +0000 UTC]

(That's okay! XD Just do what you want!)

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Heart-Of-Iron In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-17 17:03:49 +0000 UTC]

Hidden by Commenter

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to Heart-Of-Iron [2014-11-17 17:53:40 +0000 UTC]

In fact, since the fall of the USSR, Russia had withdrawn from everyone. His sisters had been the last to leave, so they had seen the worst of what it did to him, and they refused to speak to him after leaving. Even Belarus seemed to realize how bad her beloved big brother was for her, although she refused to listen to anyone else say a word against him. Emotionally, the whole thing had crushed him. And the worst part was that he knew they were right. They had every right to be angry, to be hurt, to want to go! Who would want to stay with him? Only someone without a brain. But the very worst of the whole affair was realizing what he had done. Coming to terms with the horrible things that he'd done and that his government had done nearly destroyed him. He'd wanted to die. He'd made a very concerted effort to die, but sadly, suicide was nigh impossible for nation-tans. It simply couldn't be done. They didn't get to choose when they died. So eventually he had to pick himself up off the hallway floor and stop acting like at some point he might actually succumb to death.

Then there was the crushing blow to the economy that had actually made him quite ill. Losing all their territories and satellite states over the course of a year had dealt a nearly deadly blow to the Russian economy. He'd been struggling with that one for some time before starting to make a recovery. The collapse of the dictatorial government had also freed Ivan of the propaganda-fed state of mental influence he'd been under. He had, in fact, not been himself while under the control of that government. He wasn't changed entirely, or controlled, but there was some level of brainwashing that took place. Suddenly losing that was jarring.

On top of that, there was trying to figure out how to restructure the government. If monarchies were obsolete and communism was out, what was there left? He turned to democracy for answers and hoped he would fare better there than he had previously. Results remained to be seen, but he clung to the hope that they would.

To say he was shocked to hear from Lithuania was an understatement. He'd been absolutely floored, and at first thought perhaps someone was playing a cruel trick. But that was not the case. He and Lithuania had such an odd, complex relationship...he had longed to be her friend from the very beginning, but everything he did seemed to only push her further away. At one point, he'd practically given up, choosing to seek his friendship from America instead. But he still returned to her, as he always seemed to. And whether from some twisted sense of Stockholm Syndrome, or genuine pity, Lithuania seemed to care about him, on some level. He couldn't fathom why, but she put up with him sometimes when no one else would. Of course, she too, had had her fill of him by the end of the Soviet Union and he didn't think he'd ever hear from her again.

Yet here he was. And there she was; he caught sight of her sitting outside the cafe. She looked much healthier than that last time he'd seen her in his office. She had only been getting better since then. But this was the first time they'd met outside work since she'd left the USSR. He had dressed nicely for the occasion; "business casual" one might say. The scarf was as omnipresent as ever, despite the fact that Ukraine wouldn't hear from him, take phonecalls with him or even be in the same room with him unless both their bosses were present.

"Gospazitza <> Lithuania," he greeted her, giving her a small bow. Old habits died hard; he was used to bowing to her when he saw her, a remnant of the old days of courts and balls. The habit had been crushed during the period of the USSR as a disgusting reminder of the old monarchy, but he had always slightly enjoyed court formalities. His eyes flicked up to her face, watching her reaction carefully.

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Heart-Of-Iron In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-17 20:14:28 +0000 UTC]

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to Heart-Of-Iron [2014-11-18 17:47:38 +0000 UTC]

"It has been quiet some time," he agreed, taking the proffered seat. His voice was unusually subdued, as soft as ever and he was very clearly watching her reactions like a hawk. Russia was not good with people, to say the least. He never had been. He said the wrong things or the right things in the wrong way and his facial expressions and tones were unsettling and he didn't know when so much force was too much. And most of the time he didn't realize what he was doing wrong, but Lithuania was one of the few important enough to him that he would analyze every reaction she gave to see if he was doing the right thing. Not always, of course. In fact, the past several decades he hadn't bothered at all, but when he was doing well and when they were friends, he could. Her smile--however small--was vitally important, he felt sure of that. She wouldn't smile if she was afraid...would she?

Russia was not doing well, and that much was fairly clear. He had dark shadows under his eyes and despite his hulking size, he had lost weight, to the point where one could tell just by looking. His face was waxen and he looked tired. Not in the sense of wanting to go to sleep, but the bone-deep, eternal weariness that seemed to catch up with every nation-tan at some point (America and Canada were lucky enough not to have reached this point yet). Some nations had it more than others and some showed it more than others. Russia had it a lot. Being alone was exhausting, to say nothing of the continued tragedy that was his life. Forget great Russian literature; the biggest, best, most ironic tragedy was his life.

Ivan was exceedingly good at hiding his emotions. It had always been one of his greatest talents and one flash of those disturbing smiles of his stopped anyone from bothering to look further into the matter. Lithuania, however, had more insight into Russia's emotional state and diverting behaviors than most people, aside from his sisters. But now, things were bad enough that he was exhibiting physical manifestations of his illness and grief, however much he might try to act as if nothing was wrong or out of place. That was one of the other things he did that unnerved people--behaving like nothing was wrong even when things were very wrong. It wasn't even the sort of pretending that people did when they wanted to comfort others or make it easier to get through the situation--it just came off as a crazy person wanting to act like nothing was happening.

He ordered a coffee and waited until it had come (he added lots of sugar and cream) before speaking again.

"I was surprised to hear from you, Lietuva." That was the understatement of the year; he'd read halfway through the message before he'd been ready to brain someone with the so-called "magical pipe of pain" for playing such a horrible trick on him. It had taken him a while to calm down and realize it really was Lithuania and it really was a genuine offer. And that had been even more shocking than the idea of someone playing a prank. He'd almost refused, because he was afraid of what she would say, or the looks she would give him. But he caved in the end, because it was Lithuania and he couldn't turn down the offer if there was a chance of them not hating each other (or rather, of her not hating him).

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Heart-Of-Iron In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-18 22:38:31 +0000 UTC]

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to Heart-Of-Iron [2014-11-26 18:49:54 +0000 UTC]

Try again? She wanted to try again? Try anything? Some light of unknown origin or intent sparked in Russia's gaze at those words. His expression grew, if possible, more intense. It was, as often with him, a quiet sort of intensity, but powerful enough to make his opponents quake when they looked at his face (okay and sometimes unfortunate passerby who happened to catch him thinking about something unpleasant). With some of his facial expressions it was no wonder people avoided him sometimes. With the loss of weight, his cheekbones stood out more and sharpened his expressions of late, though more often than not, it was one of silent grief or listlessness.

Oh, but now she was saying something else and that tone, it sounded like he was in trouble, or not quite, but he was on the edge. As America used to repeat from England, "walking on thin ice, mister". The spark died down some, but he kept his gaze fixated on her, listening to what she said. There could be no doubt about that, he was listening. As she went on, his eyes flicked away, an expression of guilt and possibly even shame crossing his face, but only very briefly before he resumed his earlier listening. He didn't see why these things had to be pointed out, because he already knew all of this, but he supposed it was something like France had once told him--sometimes it made people feel better to tell you how you'd hurt them, even if you already knew. Clearing the air or something like that, he didn't remember exactly. Those old memories were hazy and to be frank, he far better recalled the smell of France's cologne at the time than what he'd been saying.

Silently, Ivan dragged one gloved fingertip over the rim of his coffee cup, not speaking. He was prone to doing that, taking such a long time to respond to a statement or question that anyone who didn't know him would think he wasn't going to reply at all. But he was thinking. He always thought a long time before saying anything. He pondered what Lithuania had said. He didn't ever intend to try to repeat the Soviet Union but...well, it was untruthful to say he didn't still want some sort of family and that was the only way he knew how to get it. He didn't necessarily want to lie to Sofija, but he also wanted her forgiveness. Or at least for her to talk to him again. Honestly, even if she'd come here and railed at him, at least she was talking to him. Like a neglected child, Ivan preferred negative attention over none at all and would seek out even punishments over being ignored.

"I cared about you," he said at last, a slight croak in his throat. "I suppose...I still do...although I am sure that does not mean much anymore..." He looked away, watching people pass in the street for another moment. He knew, of course, the full horror of what he had done and the guilt of it weighed heavily on his soul; he hadn't set foot in a church for years now. He understood these days, what France said about sins even God couldn't forgive. He wanted to say he'd never intended to hurt her, but he didn't think she'd believe it and he didn't want to hear her dismiss it. "I cared about all the Soviet states...but...it is say the road to hell is paved with good intentions...and I know that at times, even my intentions were not good..." He was ashamed, but there had been times he'd been violent just because he could. There had been times he'd wanted to see them cry, perhaps out of some sadistic desire to cater to everyone's view of him as a monster. He had always felt horrible afterwards, so he had drunk, and then he'd been worse. It wasn't a good cycle. "But we are a democracy now...so the government is different and...perhaps things will change..." He wanted to be hopeful about the new government and tentatively he was--after all, it had worked for plenty of other nations--but when things so often went wrong for him, it was hard to trust wholeheartedly that it would work out.

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Heart-Of-Iron In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2015-01-02 22:12:51 +0000 UTC]

Hidden by Commenter

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to Heart-Of-Iron [2015-03-31 21:29:00 +0000 UTC]

Of the few people who might have insight into Russia’s moods and behaviors, Lithuania was a notable one. Whether she wanted it or not, he’d taken to her far more than any of the others under his control. He’d desired friendship with her from the first day they met and that desire never wavered or died out. He trusted Lithuania, even though he knew she did not trust him in return (and not without good reason). Perhaps it was foolish of him then to place such trust in her, but Ivan sometimes trusted people he shouldn’t. Like a child, his assessments of character were often cursory and overly optimistic.

The use of his name made him wince and his eyes flicked away. He didn’t like to hear it anymore; it reminded him too much of hearing them beg and plead for mercy, of hearing Ukraine desperately try to reason with him, of even Belarus’ sense of betrayal at the way they were treated. Those two were supposed to form the core of the Union with him, but it was a sham, they all knew it. Moscow ran the USSR and everyone else snapped to attention when the Supreme said “Jump!”. What had once been an intimate term between nations, a marker of familiarity or even affection had become something he couldn’t bear to hear. There were too many bad memories with it now, and it reminded him of the man he’d become—the one he’d never wanted to be. His shoulder slouched at her dismissal of his democracy. It was such a wispy, tender flame of hope in his heart about that, so easily crushed. He wanted so much to trust that things would be different now, as he had with Lenin and Trotsky, but…well, one only had to look at where that had gotten him to understand why it was hard even for Ivan to believe in this new government, especially when it felt like everyone—America in particular—was just waiting for him to fail.

Every word she spoke visibly weighed more on him, but he never stopped her from speaking. He had destroyed every meaningful relationship he’d had in the past several decades; Ukraine still wouldn’t speak to him unless it was absolutely required for political reasons. She had told him as a child the value of owning up to one’s mistakes. Then it had seemed easy, when his worst offenses were skipping out on military training or stealing extra baklava before dinner.  This…never could he have imagined it would come to this. But if he could get even some small part of Lithuania’s forgiveness or friendship back, he would let her say whatever she wanted to say about him and his government. He didn’t bother pointing out that Russians had suffered greatly under the USSR as well—particularly under Stalin. He had brought that suffering to the other Soviets, rather than allowing it to remain his burden alone. He had thought he could help them, but in the end, they bore a worse brunt of his mistakes than he did. Perhaps there was no atoning for what he’d done. Still…maybe it would make her feel better to say these things.

She was right about one thing—the anger was drained from him. It was as if he didn’t have the energy for it. In truth, he was probably suffering from depression which robbed him of the ability to be truly angry, but even without that. The USSR’s propaganda was no longer making him paranoid and aggressive, the Madness of the Empire had faded from his mind and the loss of all his territory, power and make-shift family had crushed him. His rage and resentment towards America no longer had fuel to make a fire and while he still didn’t like the younger nation, he didn’t have the motivation or stamina to maintain their violent rivalry anymore. That calmed his general disposition as well, when everything wasn’t about proving a point to Alfred or shoving something in his face or being better than him (or any of the other Western nations, for that matter).

“Friends?” Ivan was so startled and quick to agree he nearly knocked the table over jumping to his feet and grabbed it to steady it. “You want to be friends?” he asked breathlessly, the shock clear on his face. He didn’t even smile because he hardly dared to believe he had heard her correctly. He made a bit of a scene, but didn’t seem overly concerned with that; he had far more pressing and important matters at hand.

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to I-ndivisible [2014-11-16 17:21:57 +0000 UTC]

((Thank you!))

//raises an eyebrow

Since when do you ask permission for things like that? Actually, since when do you ask permission for anything, Amerika?

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I-ndivisible In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-16 17:28:39 +0000 UTC]

(No problem!! C: )

Oh, shut up. Since now I do. Is it a yes or no?

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to I-ndivisible [2014-11-16 17:34:26 +0000 UTC]

Of course not. Why would I let you do that?

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I-ndivisible In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-17 14:38:09 +0000 UTC]

Because you don't like me and I don't like you which means if I shoot you, you'll never have to see me again! Cus, you'll be dead, y'know?

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to I-ndivisible [2014-11-17 17:07:24 +0000 UTC]

If that is your logic, why don't you let me shoot you?

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I-ndivisible In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-17 18:08:15 +0000 UTC]

Because I deserve to live!!! And everyone likes me better than you.

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to I-ndivisible [2014-11-17 18:17:16 +0000 UTC]

...go away, little pest.

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I-ndivisible In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-17 18:29:39 +0000 UTC]

But you didn't answer my question!

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to I-ndivisible [2014-11-17 18:41:08 +0000 UTC]

Out.

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I-ndivisible In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-17 18:43:16 +0000 UTC]

How about no?

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to I-ndivisible [2014-11-17 18:53:49 +0000 UTC]

How about I bash your face with the magical pipe of pain?

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I-ndivisible In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-17 19:06:25 +0000 UTC]

How about I shoot you before you can do that? *takes out pistol from pocket*

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to TheHERO-takes-it-all [2014-11-16 10:14:35 +0000 UTC]

((No problem; your account looks really cool! ouo))

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TheHERO-takes-it-all In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-16 11:55:40 +0000 UTC]

( why thank you good person )

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to Black-Leather-Jacket [2014-11-15 17:40:15 +0000 UTC]

Ivan's lip curled ever so slightly, regarding the American in front of him. He had no great desire to see America either; everywhere he turned it was just a bunch of anti-communist and anti-USSR propaganda. Some of the things they said! Not that the same thing wasn't going back on in Russia, in regards to America and capitalism. But still. He didn't want to talk to Alfred. He hadn't wanted to talk to Alfred since the Russian Revolution, when he had backed the damning White Army instead of Ivan's own communist Red Army.

"I am not, but with that tone, it sounds like you are...cruising for the bruising," he replied at length, in his usual even, methodical way.

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Black-Leather-Jacket In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-15 19:46:30 +0000 UTC]

The American rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. "We both know you can't win this war so don't even try." America said with a scoff.

((I would add more but I can't think of anything else ;A; ))

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to Black-Leather-Jacket [2014-11-15 21:29:49 +0000 UTC]

"You're so cute," Russia said with a saccharine smile. "Like a little puppy who thinks he can take on the big dogs! How sweet." He stopped just short of reaching out to pat Alfred on the head; as patronizing as he might act, he knew America could match his strength and while a busted arm wouldn't kill him, he didn't really want to deal with that today.

((No worries, it's fine!))

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to just-imagining [2014-11-15 16:37:26 +0000 UTC]

((Oh hey, long time no see!))

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just-imagining In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-15 16:38:13 +0000 UTC]

[ i know! it's been such a long time!
how have you been? ]

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KingofIceandSnow In reply to just-imagining [2014-11-15 16:49:53 +0000 UTC]

((Oh God so busy and so much family drama and by the way I'm in France right now. How've you been?))

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just-imagining In reply to KingofIceandSnow [2014-11-15 16:54:24 +0000 UTC]

[ aw that's not cooool
bUT THAT IS
FRANCE IS AMAZING I LOVE IT! where are you though? like exactly
oh and i've been okay
next week is the last day of school and boy do i need it
also i'm going to start applying for scholarships in the U.S and yeeeeee
college application process just started and im scared i won't be good enough idk diuasbfia ]

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