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.

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Romeo loved this floor! He had missed fresh air so much since turning up at the tower! Even though this floor wasn't like being on the rooftops of Milano it was still cool in its own way. Romeo came up the stairs and saw the man, who he hadn't met before. "Hello sir!" He said politely before putting Piccolo down to run around. "Don't fall off the edge," he called at the weasel.

Ivan's head perked up a little when he heard the other, blinking slowly at the smaller male, raising his brows at him, and giving a tiny, friendly smile. "Ah... Privet," he replied, eyes moving to the weasel a little curious--after all, it wasn't a sight that he saw every day.

Prussia had still been recovering form the last event the tower has thrown at him, his right wrist and arm bandaged were left in a sling. He had heard of the room that was like a planetarium with millions of stars and universes projected on the walls.

It took him a moment once he entered the room to notice the other man there with him. In fact it made a shiver work its way up his spine and a deep rooted hatred bubble forth like acid. Standing in the gloom, he kept quiet and had half a mind to turn around and walk away from the Russian but something changed his mind as he stepped further into the room.

Ivan's shoulders stayed stiff, stock still, waiting, waiting for his world to show up, his brows furrowed and his eyes wide. One after the other, planets died, universes were destroyed. He wondered vaguely if this was real time, or if these were all from the past. Surely they would have nothing left if it continued at this rate.

He swallowed, tore his eyes away for a moment, when he heard another person enter, though it was just Prussia, not a shadow, or a member of this godforsaken tower. He gave a tiny nod to the smaller nation, eyes going back to the stars and the planets slowly being drained. "Privet, Gilbert," he said, a frown on his face. "You are not looking so good."

"No, but I've had worse. I'm sure you'd remember that." he said his words stiff and biting like wind off of the arctic ocean. He loathing of Russia was deeply situated, he doubted he could ever forgive the man after what transpired during the second world war and thereafter. Even now it mad him angry, but at the very least he could control it now that he'd managed to get over his post traumatic stress syndrome.

"...What are you looking at?"

"What does that mean sir?" Romeo grinned at him and then his eyes went back to Piccolo to make sure he didn't go near the edge. "His name is Piccolo sir and he's very friendly!"

Ivan frowned, giving a tiny shrug. After all, he could not see anything he had done wrong--he believed himself justified, given the treatment he had gotten during the war. "You were starting," he replied, but there was no bite to it, not focused on that. There were bigger things to worry about now.

"Looking," he replied, pointing at one of the planets getting the life sucked out of it, brows furrowed. "It is happening over and over again.... Hundreds of little planets, whole universes... they are all getting destroyed. I am hoping I do not see ours.... It would not be so good, if I was bringing down tower, and we were having no place to be going back to...."

Ivan blinked slowly, and smiled. "It is meaning hello in my language," he replied, and gave a tiny shrug. "You can be calling me Russia if you are wanting.... Ah, or Ivan." After all, it seemed silly to call him sir here of all places.

"He is your pet?"

Romeo smiled, "Oh you are a country person man sir!" He grinned as he looked up at him, "Russia is a really big country and sometimes it is really cold! Piccolo is my friend Mr Ivan, He came with me from Sonogno, that's in the Alps!"

"You actually believe that bullshit that our world was destroyed?" he snorted and moved closer to the large man, ignoring the instinct in his stomach that told him to run very far from the man with the lead pipe.

"If anything I'd say we were all kidnapped and forced here, I don't think earth is gone." he grumbled and looked around the room at all of the galaxies. "Orion nebula, Beteljeuse, Andromeda galaxy, Polaris. They're all systems close to us, but they're not dying, its just changing how far out in the universe you are." he muttered, a rare moment of Prussia actually showing he knew something beyond himself. It had been a necessity to learn about stars and charts in his earlier years, now it had just continued on for the tactician.

Poland was honestly just lost. There were too many rooms to this tower and it was all just confusing. But when he got to here, he took a break because it was air. Fresh air. It reminded him of the rye fields although there was no rye to be seen. He smiled a little before he saw Russia, the smile dropping as he turned to leave.

Ivan's head perked up a little when he saw the Pole, raising a brow when the blond looked at him--but then turned to leave. That seemed silly to him--he just got here, after all. And even if Russia didn't exactly like Poland, he could be okay company every now and again. Especially if he brought alcohol.

And if worse came to worse, he could always test his theory of escape.

"Pol'sha, come and be sitting, da? Is very nice out," he called, looking thoughtful.

Ivan nodded, and smiled brightly. "Da, da, I am a country-person, I am supposing you can be calling," he watched the other, letting out a giggle--the boy was cute, he would give him that, and he was certainly amusing Ivan. "I am very big country. Biggest. And coldest, too. Unless you are counting Antarctica." he smiled, and nodded, listening to the other with an amused look. "He is very cute. And alps? Who's child are you being? Ah... Where are you being from?"

Romeo grinned the man's enthusiasm catching, and really it did not take much to make Romeo enthused. "I saw Russia on a map on a big globe and Russia was gigantic," he held out his arms to show just how big it was.

He smiled, "Antartica? Is he here? Oh I am from Italy sir!

"I do not know what I believe, Kaliningrad," he replied, frowned and gave a tiny shrug, eyes on the stars, the galaxies and the planets. "I am still waiting to see. I do not think I will be believing either way until I am seeing for myself, da? But I would agree in saying that we all were being kidnapped and being forced here. I cannot imagine coming here willing."

He listened to the other speak, a tiny frown on his face, eyes on the lush planets being turned into dead rocks, and the stares eating themselves up. "They are looking like they are dying. But not in way I am knowing...." It was as close as he would get to telling Prussia to explain more.

Ivan was laughing then, nodding a little. "I do look a little big on a map, hm?" he replied, leaning back a little, still chuckling. "But never be confusing big, for fat, da? I am just having lot of land. Tall."

He paused a moment. "I am not being so sure. I have not been meeting very many other countries here. But I am sure it is being possible, da?" Another pause, and another smile. "I should have been guessing--you are acting little bit like Italy."

Poland doesn't have alcohol, sorry. He wishes he did because he feels like things could be so much easier that way. But he kind of frowns when Russia offers to have him sit with him. Russia's never been a trustworthy guy.

"Why?" He sounds suspicious and he definitely looks it.

"Don't call me that. I'm Prussia." he hissed, eyes as red and heated as coals from hell glared at him. It made more than a few old scars on his body burn in memory of that. The worst disgrace, the defacement of his city and it being renamed to that of all things. It made him sick to know how far his mistakes had taken him and how far he'd fallen as a result of his own arrogance.

"They're not dying, think of the universe as the entire pacific ocean. Massive right? Now where we are, earth, would be akin to the size of a thimble. Not to mention that space, as far as humans know, has no ending and it just keeps going." he explained and rubbed his shoulder. An old gunshot wound that the Russian himself has lodged there ached as he turned his eyes away from the massive man beside him and looked at the projections again.

Ivan didn't argue for once, though he knew it wasn't true. There was no more Prussia in the world--the country itself didn't exist. And that was what he was going on. There had been a time where he hadn't quite existed either, and he wouldn't have considered himself Russia then. "Gilbert then."

He glanced over to the smaller male, frowning and raising his brows. "But then how are you explaining this?" he replied, moving to tap at one of the planets, staying right where it was, and going from green and lovely, to a listless old rock. "Our planet might be being small and not here, but that one is...." He wasn't trying to be argumentative for once--instead, he only wanted to understand.

If only he did, if only he did. Russia would even accept wodka at this point.

Russia's brows grow furrowed when the other didn't follow up right away. "Because we are very good friends, da?" he replied, smiling as if that honestly was even possible. The answer was more likely because Poland was the closest thing to home he was going to get in this tower, regardless on whether the smaller Slav was terrible company or not.

"Prussia. I might be dead but I'm still here." he said quietly, he didn't feel comfortable with the large Russian calling him by his human name. He rarely even let his brother call him that let alone someone who he had been forced to live with while he was torn apart and given to other countries as a trophy.

But Ivan's question had him raising an eyebrow at the image. "Well, guess planets do die but its not as instantaneous as that... well, unless the planet explodes or an asteroid collides with it or something." he stated and moved away to look at other projections, noticing how various ones seemed to die like Ivan had pointed out.

"..You're really depressing you know." he stated and ran a hand over the projection on the wall. It was something that he knew Russia was afraid of, all nations were. Loosing their land, their tie to earth. He still wondered about his own situation, how the hell he hadn't vanished like Rome or Germania. He knew his time was coming, but it pissed him off to no end that someone like Russia of all people would be worried about such a thing.

"Da, but you are not being Prossiya anymore," he replied with a small frown, glancing back to the other, before nodding slowly. He could play the game if the other wanted him too--but that didn't mean he truly thought of the other as Prussia any longer. Besides, what was so wrong with being called Kaliningrad? It was a very nice bit of land, in Russia's opinion.

"Or something," he repeated, stared at the planet as the last bit of life fled from it and the scene changed to yet another one. "I am understanding it is not something that is normally happening. I am understanding that it is possibly a lie--to make us loose faith. But I am also understanding I am here--not where I am supposed to be being, and I cannot be feeling my people. I have been in space before away from Earth, but I could still be feeling them. And now there is being nothing. Is this how you are feeling, Prossiya?"

He paused a moment, before regaining his smile. "What are you meaning? I do not think I am depressing--only honest."

"I will be Prussia until I fade off of this rock like Rome and my grandfather." he snapped, loosing his temper completely at the larger man. "You remember them as what they were and I will be known as Prussia!" he roared. It was identity, it was who he was and who he fought tooth and bloody nail to be.

"You are depressing, you're always depressing. Those decades I was forced to live with you? I would've taken Napoleon over that shit. As for the planets, yeah, what you feel is exactly what I feel. Numb. I've felt that way since all of you signed my fucking death warrant!" he growled and clenched his fist more. He'd always had anger issues, but with being here it made his fuse even shorter.

"I am remembering you as Prossiya as well," he replied, blinking slowly at the other. "I am also remembering you as Teutonic Knight, but I am not calling you that any more either. Just like you are not calling me Moskoviya. I will be calling you Prossiya though, since you are really wanting. And I do not think you will be fading. I think it is possible for you to be becoming country again; you are being here still, after all--there is having to be reason for it."

Ivan raised a brow. "I am finding myself being very happy, actually," he replied, the smile sliding back on his face as punctuation to that, and he shook his head slowly. "Your death warrant was being signed moment you were joining your brat. And if you had not been committing such atrocities to me, I would not have been doing it back." He shook his head slowly, not wanting to think about that war, because really he had hated it.

He eyed the other's fists. "Are you wanting to be fighting? I am not minding sparring with you," he said, and it was true--it would be a nice release of steam for both of them.

"Just... shut up Russia." he said, he knew he couldn't even attempt to spar with him in the shape his right arm was in. Ivan would easily throw him to the ground and beat the shit out of him with such a handicap.

Prussia knew that he'd been asking for trouble once he allowed the fallen holy Roman Empire to join him. But at the same time he knew that Germania would've had his hide had he left the kid to fend for himself. Besides, he'd had a good run, people still remembered him, so at least there was that. The thing that pissed him off was Russia trying to seem like he was in right about atrocities.

"No I don't call you Moskoviya, nor do I call your sister Kievan Rus even if that is your proper name. I am dead and my name will die with me." he said quietly.

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Floor twelve

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Floor 11

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