Post by Lithuania on Jul 18, 2010 19:02:15 GMT -5
(((My Reflection)))
Nation: Republic of Lithuania
Name: Toris Lorinaitis
Gender: Male
Appearance Age: 19
Hair Color: Brown
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Eye Color: Green
Height: 5'7"
Weight: Let's just say that he's on the malnourished side of the spectrum.
Appearance:
With shoulder length hair, sharp, earnest features and perpetually startled-looking green eyes, Toris is by no means an imposing figure. Smaller than average and slender, he retains a boyish, if slightly androgynous, appearance. He can usually be found with an expression of nervous anxiety on his face, but when he smiles, it is subdued and gentle. He is most often clad in a poorly fitting olive-green uniform, complete with shirt and tie, although when doing housework he favours simple shirt and trousers with an ever-present apron.
(((Know Thyself )))
Personality: If Toris could be summed up in three words, it would be "eager to please". A hard-working, humble and serious young man, he is forever running around fretting over the wellfare of others, often putting his friends before himself. He adores his younger brothers, Latvia and Estonia and will often intervene to stop them from getting hurt, even to his own detriment.
Toris remains perpetually wide eyed and earnest, despite a history which would make many countries extremely bitter. He frequently finds himself the target of Russia's more brutal whims, and has spent many years in servitude to the older nation, along with his brothers. His treatment at Ivan's hands has left him with a great many scars, both emotional and physical yet, barring the odd act of desperate rebelion, he remains somewhat loyal and unaccusing towards his captor and tormentor for reasons that he can only barely understand himself. These experiences seem to have resigned Toris to a lifetime of subordination, and he seems to be perpetually in the service of one nation or another. However, given his hard working and stoic nature, he never seems to mind particularly much, and there is hardly a trace of bitterness in his personality, despite his traumatic past.
Although some might argue that Toris' subservient and passive nature makes him weak, he simply feels that he has different values to other nations. Power and conquest do not particularly appeal to him, and is perfectly content to take on the role of a useful ally to more dominant nations. Although easy going and willing to bend to the whims of others, Toris will still take a stance when he feels strongly about something and has a surprisingly fierce notion of morality.
Sometimes he feels wistful for the more carefree times in his past, particularly the good times he spent with Poland and, latterly, America.
Likes:
★ His brothers
★ Reading
★ Cleaning (what?! It's satisying!)
★ Baking
★ When Ivan is in a good mood.
Dislikes:
✖-Confrontation
✖ Mess
✖ Pop music
✖ Instability
✖ Instant coffee
Fears:
☣ Losing his independence again
☣ What might happen if he leaves Feliks to his own devices for too long
☣ Russia
Secrets:
♦ Whenever he is overly stressed, he gets a dreadful stomach ache.
♦ He actually really quite likes hamburgers.
♦ Two words: Maid dress. XD
Strengths:
Toris' main strengths lie in his patience and endurance. He has an exceptional amount of emotional and psychological strength and has withstood a very troubled past and still retained his altruistic nature. He is level headed and has a gentle and unobtrusive nature. Toris is generally a calming influence on those around him. He never lets pride get in the way of what he believes to be the right thing to do. He is very self controlled and rarely loses his temper. He's also really handy to have around the house, and makes a mean cup of coffee!
Weaknesses:
While not a "coward" per se, Toris has a terrible tendency to let himself be bulldozed by bigger nations. This has happened so often that he now just accepts it as a fact and this often leads to him being dragged into some morally questionable schemes. He often regards himself as being powerless and refuses to stand up for himself. He spends far, far too much time cleaning. Oh, and there's the small matter of a not-so-healthy dose of Stockholm Sydndrome where Russia is concerned...
(((The Pages of History )))
History:
In the middle ages, Lithuania and Poland were very close, and Liet found himself very influenced by his loud and vocal friend. By the 16th century, they'd made a Commonwealth together and were even starting to speak the same language. Sadly, in 1772, Russia, Prussia and Austria came along to partition Poland, and Lithuania somehow ended up split between Russia and Prussia. This was a confusing and troubled period for him as his entire idenitity was taken away and he wasn't even allowed to really call himself a nation. By 1795 he was completely under Russia's rule.
He tried to fight back a couple of times, in 1831 and 1863. He was crushed again by Russia, who responded by refusing to allow him to speak his own language. He still did it anyway, in secret, and eventually, at the turn of the 20th century, Russia had gotten a little more lenient and decided to let him use it in public again.
By World War I, he found himself under the control of Germany but after a political struggle, he was allowed to declare independence in 1918. By 1934, things had gotten pretty bad between him and Germany, but when he tried to stand up for himself, Germany cut off their trading agreement, which lead to a period of serious poverty. Around this time, Lithuania got pretty volatile.
After this Poland stepped in and threatened him with violence until he agreed to start conducting normal diplomatic relations again. Not long after that, Germany came in and started taking land from him again, leaving him weak.
Germany and Russia got together around 1939 and, without particularly consulting him, he ended up falling under Russia's control again. This time, occupation was especially brutal, as the larger nation seeked to dominate him completely and undermine all traces of his spirit.
By 1941, Nazi Germany had invaded the Soviet Union and Lithuania took advantage of the chaos to declare independence again. Germany crushed this and things got even more brutal for Lithuania. He tried to fight back sometimes, but it was ultimately futile.
1944 saw Russia's return and he fell under Soviet rule again. This was another troubled, unhappy time for him where he was subjected to years of abuse. Eventually, in the 1980's he and his brothers, Latvia and Estonia, found the courage to join hands together and finally get the rest of the world to pay attention to their suffering.
By the end of the 90's, Lithuania was trying for independence again. Russia tried to supress him then when Liet refused to be beaten down this time, he simply refused to acknowledge his bid for freedom. But other nations did, and eventually Russia was forced to concede that Lithuania was no longer his property.
Allies:
Poland, America, Belarus (in his head, at least), Latvia, Estonia and (for a period of time) whoever Russia tells him to. Germany, on and off.
Enemies:
None per se, although he has found himself getting dragged into Russia's fights on more than one occasion. Luckily most nations seem to understand that he's not the aggressive type.
Sample Post:
Mid-December 1939
The Winter War between Soviet Russia and Finland has just begun and Soviet forces, despite having superior numbers, is taking heavy losses. Morale is low and troops are exhausted.
Winter.
It had crept up on both of them before they'd even realised it, and soon the General was raging in full force through Russia's lands. After Ivan had claimed him back from Germany, it hadn't taken long for things to settle into their same old routine. But at least the elation at having emerged so much better-off in the pact had abated Ivan's mood for some time. There had been times when the Russian had seemed genuinely happy to have him around and he'd managed to make it through the autumn months without falling too much foul of Russia's violent streak. And there was still that restless part of him that resented his servitude, that longed for his own language and religion and home, but Toris found that he could keep his head down and bear things rather optimistically. Even the occasional rough treatment wasn't so dreadful, in comparison to other, darker times he'd weathered through with the tall blonde.
But then Ivan never could stay out of trouble for long. His boss had to go and start making war with Finland, and had gone and gotten him kicked out of the league of nations.
In a way, Toris felt as though he should have been grateful, that Ivan was out spending so much time fighting with Tino that he had no real time or energy to direct his sadism towards the Lithuanian or his brothers. But in truth, ever time the violet eyed man left for the front line, Toris felt a sick lurch of anxiety in his stomach. And he would earnestly pray every night for the larger nation, pleading for Ivan's protection to a God that the Russian had all but outlawed. The irony was not entirely lost on him.
He'd been gone for a week this time and news from the frontline was coming through with such a heavy censorship that it was hardly worth enquiring. Everything was drowned in Stalin's propaganda anyhow.
Toris rested his chin against the top of his broomstick and peered out anxiously into the snow-obscured land beyond the window with a small sigh. His brown hair was tied into a loose ponytail, a smudge of dust on his nose and stray wisps of hair falling into his face, his hands thin and chapped and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The apron he was wearing was much too large, double tied around his waist and streaked with furniture polish. Even if Ivan wasn't around to force him, he still felt compelled to keep the Russian's sprawling old house as warm and welcoming as possible. Toris firmly believed that a house should feel like a home.
Besides, housework was as good a way as any other to distract himself from the irrational worry he felt whenever he thought of Ivan out fighting on the front line. His brothers couldn't understand it. Russia's absence was almost like a holiday for them, but the Lithuanian couldn't share their quiet elation at the blond's departure, despite the fact that it arguably made life easier for everyone.
"Please don't be out there doing anything stupid..." he muttered under his breath for what must have been the hundredth time that week. Squinting out into the raging snowstorm outside, he watched the blizzard warp the landscape to the point where it was barely possible to see past the front gate. There was something strangely mesmerising about a Russian winter, on evenings like this when everything was blanketed in white. It had a way of making him feel like there was no world outside beyond the confines of Ivan's house. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that, sometimes.
Blinking, Toris turned back to the broom he'd been using to sweep the kitchen floor with, pulling his gaze away from the snowy scene outside. Then he caught a flash of shadow against the unrelenting carpet of white outside and he jerked his head up sharply again. Squinting, he dropped the broom and pressed his palms and nose to the window, trying to discern exactly what he'd just seen. A gloomy figure stood at the garden fence and for a moment the Lithuanian was certain that his eyes were playing tricks on him amidst all the dazzling white.
But no. The figure grew closer, its movements slow and fatigued but unmistakable human. And then he caught a flash of something ribboning in the wind, casting a shadow on the snowy ground. A scarf.
Toris' hand flew to his mouth and he let out a small, stifled cry. His heart lurching irrationally, he all but ran to the front door, flinging it open and ignoring the biting wind and the snow which whipped at his face and instantly numbed his hands. And without caring that he was wearing neither coat, nor gloves, or that the snow was almost up to his knees, he found himself half running, half stumbling out into the garden towards the wind-beaten figure.
"Vanya!" he exclaimed at the top of his voice, the wind carrying his voice away and making it sound strangely quiet. He reached the taller nation breathlessly, wildly and impulsively curling his freezing hands into the fabric of the Russian's heavy coat and, through his relief, only just barely restraining the impulse to throw his arms around the violet eyed man.
"You're home...! You're really home..." He looked up at the war-weary nation with wide, anxious eyes, scanning him for any signs of injury, ignoring the snow that soaked through his shirt even as his teeth began to chatter. "A...are you alright? Are y...you wounded?"
Did you read the rules and Dark Reflections Canon?
Umm...Italian pasta...?
Random fun fact about yourself:
I have synaesthesia. XD