http://vanavanushka.livejournal.com/ (
vanavanushka.livejournal.com) wrote in
towerofanimus2011-08-16 10:31 pm
Entry tags:
Weary
Characters: Russia and YOU
Setting: Floor 12; Floor 11
Format: Either; Starting out Prose, but will change to match. ♥
Summary: Ivan explores the new rooms!
Warnings: None currently; possibly future language
A. Floor Twelve
Ivan had been through a lot in his life--through war, and conquest, invasion and genocide. But even with that experience, the tower was starting to run him down. Being cut off from his people, from his own home stung enough as it was--it was an ache that had started in his chest, and just would not go away. Honestly he felt a little sick--and the lack of alcohol didn't help. At least when life had gotten bad before he hadn't been sober.
The room wasn't helping. Especially not when he realized the significance of it--worlds being destroyed, over and over again. No, not just worlds, universes. He couldn't recognize them, the stares imploding, the planets being drained dry, and he stalled in the center of the room, watching, as it happened over and over again. And he waited, wanting to see if his world was being subjected to the same thing. He remembered vaguely the letter he had gotten when he had woken up--figured it was just a ploy, a lie to get him to sit down and behave. Now, he was not so sure.
B. Floor Eleven
The open air was a nice change to the cooped up tower, but it was missing something--it wasn't quite the same as his home had been. Perhaps it was the air, or the fact that the room didn't seem exactly physically possible (despite the fact that he was in it, and therefore it had to be). At the very least, there were flowers, and he did like flowers, despite them not being his, and the lake made a pretty sight (if not a tad confusing).
Either way, it was better than sitting inside, by a long shot, and the edges of the room were open. He wondered vaguely if he could get out of the tower that way--after all, he had survived bigger jumps before. A broken leg was a small price to pay for getting out of the tower. Though even as he mused on this, he knew it likely wouldn't work--and if it didn't, he would have a broken limb to contend with while being trapped. Perhaps he could find another nation, and get them to take the plunge--see what happened.
Setting: Floor 12; Floor 11
Format: Either; Starting out Prose, but will change to match. ♥
Summary: Ivan explores the new rooms!
Warnings: None currently; possibly future language
A. Floor Twelve
Ivan had been through a lot in his life--through war, and conquest, invasion and genocide. But even with that experience, the tower was starting to run him down. Being cut off from his people, from his own home stung enough as it was--it was an ache that had started in his chest, and just would not go away. Honestly he felt a little sick--and the lack of alcohol didn't help. At least when life had gotten bad before he hadn't been sober.
The room wasn't helping. Especially not when he realized the significance of it--worlds being destroyed, over and over again. No, not just worlds, universes. He couldn't recognize them, the stares imploding, the planets being drained dry, and he stalled in the center of the room, watching, as it happened over and over again. And he waited, wanting to see if his world was being subjected to the same thing. He remembered vaguely the letter he had gotten when he had woken up--figured it was just a ploy, a lie to get him to sit down and behave. Now, he was not so sure.
B. Floor Eleven
The open air was a nice change to the cooped up tower, but it was missing something--it wasn't quite the same as his home had been. Perhaps it was the air, or the fact that the room didn't seem exactly physically possible (despite the fact that he was in it, and therefore it had to be). At the very least, there were flowers, and he did like flowers, despite them not being his, and the lake made a pretty sight (if not a tad confusing).
Either way, it was better than sitting inside, by a long shot, and the edges of the room were open. He wondered vaguely if he could get out of the tower that way--after all, he had survived bigger jumps before. A broken leg was a small price to pay for getting out of the tower. Though even as he mused on this, he knew it likely wouldn't work--and if it didn't, he would have a broken limb to contend with while being trapped. Perhaps he could find another nation, and get them to take the plunge--see what happened.

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"Since when were you the optimistic one, and no, I'm not joining you before you ask me that once again."
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"I am not being optimistic. Just being reasonable," he said, and shook his head slightly, thoughtful, eyes on the planets and stars around them, rather than on the smaller Prussian. "I am not asking you to be joining me. You are already being part of me, little bit." He smiled then, and gave the other another tiny shrug. "Besides, you were being a terrible house guest."
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"When I was invading was awesome, I've never seen you struggle so much."
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"You were most amusing of people who were invading me. Especially before when you were just Teutonic knight. I have never been seeing an army fall through ice so fast," he replied.
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"I was still a kid back then and you lead us into that pass knowing that the ice was thin. At least I wasn't like the french trying to invade Moscow. I've made blunders but I've never been a complete tactical idiot."
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"I was being a child too. It is not my fault you were foolish enough to be wearing heavy armor on ice. It was like you were never seeing ice before," he replied, raising a brow. "At least Francis got to my heart, da? You could not even take me when I was already being weak from invasions."
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"I don't live in the mountains Russia, and we stay off of ice, we didn't even know we were on a frozen river you asshole." he turned to glare at the larger man. "France would've trounced you if you weren't so fucking insane that you burned your entire city to the ground just so he couldn't have it."
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"You should have been preparing better. I was not about to be putting myself at disadvantage just to make you happy. I had way to beat you and I was using it. I won." He paused, smiled, and it wasn't exactly a sane smile. "I was doing well before Frantsiya came to my heart, but burning it helped. It was better for it to be burned than for it to be taken again."
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"The ice was a petty example, I remember when we were actually friends before you were freaked out by how industrialized I was. I don't know what happened to you but you went fucking INSANE after that. I'd like to think you were better with a monarchy and as an empire."
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Taking a few steps back Prussia gave him a cheeky grin and a laugh.
"Did I piss you off Russia? Kesesesese, seems like I hit a sore spot."
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Not to mention Prussia only had one hand to work with unless he felt like further damaging the cracked bones in his wrist. Which, in this case, he was willing to do if the Russian brought out that pipe he seemed to carry everywhere with him.
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"Are you mad because I know the truth about you Russia? About how fucking insane you are. And how much you hate yourself that you take it out on the rest of us or is it the fact that even though you annexed me I still continue to live and harass the fuck out of you."
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Ivan followed the other, his eyes blazing, brows furrowed, angrier the more the other talked to him, and he kept the distance between them relatively small, though he was not stupid with his anger, just watching Gilbert, at least until the other started speaking again. And then he lashed out again, growling low in his throat.
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The punch was much more well aimed and the side of Ivan's hand clipped the Prussian's shoulder just before Gilbert made a mad scramble for the doorway. Being lighter and smaller than the Russian flight was a little easier at a moment's notice.
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It wasn't just the words that affected him either--it was a combination of them, his continued sobriety (really, he hadn't been sober for more than a day in years, decades even), and the fact that he was still stuck in this tower cut off from his people. If it was just the words, Ivan might not chase the Prussian, but as it was he was angry enough to follow after him, taking out his pipe for that added bit of reach.
He was a bit fast for someone his size, but Gilbert was generally faster, and did have quite a bit of practice on getting away from an angry Russia. Hell, he could make the book on it. "Coward," he snapped, scowling at the ground.
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"Hey I always wanted to ask, why the fuck are you always so damn angry?"
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"i am not usually angry! I am thinking you bring it out very well, though," he shook his head, eyes narrowed, grip tight on his pipe, thoughtful almost.
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"And you know behaving is boring, Da?" the mocking tone was still in his voice, red eyes flshing in amusement at the other man's.
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