towerofanimus

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ivan's lips thinned, and his eyes narrowed, and even though he previously denied the existence of this famine, he certainly knew it existed. "You are knowing as well as I am knowing that we cannot be stopping doing what our leaders want," he replied, and there was ice to his words, anger, and his shoulders were stiff as he watched the Prussian.

"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."

"Maybe not, but you could've done a better job of looking after the woman who virtually raised you." he growled. He liked Ukraine, as much as her sobbing irritated him she was a sweetheart who went out of her way to try to help people and loved freely. Seeing shit like that happen to her pissed him off royally.

"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."

"I did best job that I could be doing, Kaliningrad," he replied, eyes narrowed, shoulders stiff, and his hands were definitely clenched into fists now. He hadn't wanted to harm his sister, hadn't done it purposefully. But what he wanted didn't matter--a nation's leader got what they wanted, and that was that.

"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."

"Yea, you seem to like destroying others as a self medication for the shit that happened to you. Newsflash Russia, you're just as fucked up as the rest of us you're just too weak to hold yourself together." he growled and shifted his stance.

"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."

That was it. Everyone had their breaking points when it came to their angers, and Ivan's wasn't exactly the hardest to reach--especially when the Prussian continued to poke at things he did not like poked at. Everyone also had their ways of taking out their pent up emotions. Some liked to write angry poetry. Ivan liked to hit and forcibly make whomever was creating the annoyance stop. And that was why Prussia suddenly had Ivan's fist speeding quite fast at his face.

Prussia had just enough time to throw himself to the side, feeling the Russian's hand just miss his face and clip his hair. He grinned to himself in victory, it wasn't hard to piss the Russian off but Prussia still took pride in being able to still antagonize the world.

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."

Ivan was glaring at the other, a scowl on his face, watching the other, and slowly stepping forward. It was obvious that he was frustrated with the Prussian, but then he had every right to be. Between the Prussian and the tower, the lack of vodka and everything else--no, he was not in a good mood. And Gilbert made a good punching bag, he had found. "You are an idiot, Kaliningrad," he snapped.

"Prussia, or are you too thick to remember a name that's one letter off from yours?" he growled, sidestepping Prussia and keeping just out of the larger man's reach. He'd done this kind of tango several times with Russia and often it didn't end well for either of them.

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.

"'Prussia' does not exist," Ivan snapped back and shook his head slowly, watching the smaller male, continuing to move forward, though he kept the pipe away for the moment, hidden inside his coat. He also kept the guns away, because really, he would not want to waist bullets on the Prussian, no matter how annoying he might have been at the moment. "Or are you too 'thick to remember' that you are not Prussia any longer?"

"It will exist as long as I do!" Prussia snarled, sidestepping away from Russia to keep a good distance between them. He did not want to get hit by that pipe.

"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."

"It's existence is dead, like you should be!"

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.

"And I'm not! That's a big FUCK YOU to you annexing me, You can't kill me Ivan I'm going to haunt you like everything else." Prussia gave an almost crazed grin, red eyes flashing at the threat of Russia coming at him. Mostly he was just shitting around with the Russian, battle and fights were what he lived for even if he was no longer a nation and seeing Russia riled was just icing on his cake.

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.

"And you are!" he snapped, because Prussia was dead. He might come back, and by Gilbert's continued existence it felt likely, as any nation that he could think of that had permanently died, had brought their representation with them, but for now Prussia was gone. At least Gilbert got what he wanted--a very riled up Russian.

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.

"I know when I'm at a disadvantage to a madman," He laughed and cursed when he caught the glimmer of the lead pipe. Instead of running he simply slid down the banister to stand at the bottom of the flight of stairs, grinning like a cheshire cat up at the angry nation.

Of course Ivan continued to follow. He didn't copy Gilbert when it came to the banister, instead walking down the stairs, a little slower than the chase he had given before. "You tend to be at a disadvantage a lot, da?" he watched Gilbert, eyes narrowed, anger still definitely there.

"Seeing as everyone seems to be out to get me, yeah. I guess I am." he said and continued backing away from the Russian and down the stairs.

"Hey I always wanted to ask, why the fuck are you always so damn angry?"

"Perhaps if you would behave, they would not be trying to hurt you so much," he replied, pursing his lips, and following the other, eyes blazing.

"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.

"You are angry when people pull you out of your comfort zone and tell you exactly what you ignore, Russia." Gilberts grin only widened as he moved further down the stairs, keeping an eye on the large Russian.

"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.

"I am angry when you continuously provoke me by saying silly, foolish things!" he snapped back, following the other, pipe clicking on the ground as he went down each stair, eying the other, unhappily.

"Behaving in some places can make it so you are not being punished, da?" he heard the mocking, look sour about it, eyes narrow, violet blazing.

"But would you get mad if it was your dear Katyushka saying such things? Or Canada? Don't think so. You just don't like me because I have the balls to tell you how much of an insane bastard you are!" Prussia grinned, still keeping a healthy distance between them.

"In your world even if I behaved I'd be punished, there's a reason why no one likes you Russia. You hurt everyone."

"They would not be spreading such lies about me!" he snapped back, staring at the other, eyes blazing, continuing to follow, knowing the other would slip up eventually, would run out of space.

"If you would be behaving, then there would be no need to be punishing you!" He watched the other, brows furrowed. "There are people who are liking me. And I do not hurt everyone. When I am hurting, they are deserving!"

"Yeah so when you're upset everyone has to suffer? That's fucking bullshit Russia." he continued moving down the stairs until he found the door that led to the aquariums.

"How do you know people don't say such things?" He grinned almost crazily, "You have a twisted sens of what is right and what is wrong." he laughed and ducked into the room, disappearing among the vast glass-less tanks.

"That is not what I am saying!" Ivan snapped back, following the other through the water room, eying the glassless tanks for a moment, before smiling pleasantly, or not-so-pleasantly, following the other.

"I am knowing because they are very stupid things to be saying!" he snapped back,shaking his head, following him, lunging toward the other, swinging his pipe at the Prussian, eyes narrowed.

"Or because it's the truth!" Prussia had to leap around the corner of a tank to avoid the blow that had been so close to his eye. He still remembered the last time he had lost an eye to the Russian and it had been brutally painful until it had healed properly once again.

Prussia had had enough, pulling out his gun he aimed it at the Russian. "I'll put one in your forehead Ivan." He threatened. His threats were not idle either, he'd killed his fair share of men through the years and putting a bullet between the Russian's eyes was easily done. Prussia wasn't a bad marksman, but he knew the bullet wouldn't kill the Russian.

Ivan stared at the other, eyes wild when the Prussian pulled the gun at him, but he wasn't afraid. After the third or fourth time being shot in the head it kind of lost it's fear value, or maybe Ivan was just crazier than ever. "Is taking little bit more than that to be killing me, Kaliningrad," he replied pulling out his own gun, because, really, if he was going to be shot, he was not going to allow himself to be the only one with a hole through his skin. He was smiling though, broader, as if they were merely playing a game. "But if you are really wanting to be wasting bullets on me rather than on the tower, then do, da?"

Weary

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