Two Suns in the Sunset {Russ, Liet and Ukraine}

[Russia]

((The name of this thread was taken from a Pink Floyd song about nuclear holocaust. Since this thread deals with the arms race, I figured it would work. XD *Epic fail at naming threads*))

September of 1957

It was a good day to be a Soviet. At least, it was as far as Russia was concerned. Since emerging from the war as a victorious global superpower, things had only improved for him and his people. The rebuilding and re-organizing had been challenging and an annoyance to have to deal with, but now he figured things were going pretty well and the future looked bright for he and his fellow Soviets, as well as their occupied areas. He had a new boss leading him, and had successfully smashed that annoying Hungarian revolt to pieces; maintaining his iron grip on his satellite nations. As far as Ivan Braginski was concerned, all was well.

It had been roughly eight years since his people had successfully tested their first nuclear bomb, and ever since that fateful test, The Russian had developed a fierce obsession for nuclear arms. His obsession spanned to just about any sort of arms really, but nuclear arms in particular had seduced him in a way that machine guns and rocket launchers never could. He was completely in love with them, with their power and ability to frighten people and other nations alike.

His rival, America, had no doubt thought that he could use his own nuclear weapons to intimidate the Soviet Union, and get Russia to concede to his demands whenever it struck him. Ivan however had been able to surprise Alfred, by coming up with his own nuclear bomb, many years before the Americans had ever thought it possible. It was his hopes now to achieve nuclear parity with the other global superpower as soon as he could, and then surpass him. The mere thought of obtaining nuclear dominance over all the other nations made him giddy, and even with Khrushchev not putting as much money into the military investments as he could, Ivan still felt that his dream would soon enough become reality.

Despite his preference for nuclear arms, Ivan realized that there was more to military dominance than just having an impressive arsenal of warheads. He was also pleased that since the Great War, there had been a prominent increase in weapons of all types being built in Soviet borders; in particular, within Ukraine. It was always good to see his subordinates helping out with their common goal. He only wished all of his underlings would be as productive as his sister when it came to something as important as military equipment. His happiness with his sister’s productivity concerning arms was however slightly muted by the rumors he had been hearing through the ranks. Many of his armed personal had complained that the weapons from Ukraine-as numerous as they were- were of a lesser quality. Since he personally stuck to only the most Russian of firearms most days, he was not sure how much weight these complaints held, but it was worth looking into.

It was part of the reason that the tall blonde nation was dragging his favorite servant with him on his trip to a weapons factory in his sisters’ borders. In addition to checking up on the weapons quality, he figured that perhaps seeing the magnificence of such a large scale production of weapons first hand would somehow convince Lithuania to improve military production in his own lands. The factory was located in a smaller town on the outskirts of Kiev, and he had arranged to meet his sister there and have her accompany them on their examination of the facility.

Truth be told, it was not an entirely necessary trip, although Russia’s boss supported the outing well enough. While they were there, he would have the chance to check up on the weapons, and touch bases with his sister, whom he had not personally spoken with in a awhile. He saw her around of course- being the lead Soviet he saw all of the others to some degree. Still, he had not had much of an opportunity to personally speak to her for a bit, so he might be a nice chance to catch up on a few things.

The violet-eyed Soviet had been quiet for most of the car ride from the train station in Kiev, however, as the decently large outline of the weapons factory came into view, he suddenly broke the silence. “There it is, Toris.” Never one to take vehicle safety seriously, Ivan took one hand off the steering wheel of their rental car and gestured towards the factory eagerly. Returning his hand to the wheel, he stomped down harder on the accelerator, pleased that these dusty backroads were so clear. Turning sharply off the main road and onto the gravel driveway to the warehouse, the Russian nation slowed the vehicle, stopping briefly to show a factory guard his pass and wait for them to open the gates that surrounded the building. Being the spirit of a nation, his boss allowed him near unlimited access to some of the most heavily guarded and secretive facilities. He was not sure, but he figured the same must have been true for many other nations though. The relationship between a leader and their country- though sometimes tense and uneasy- was beneficial in times like these.

Finally shifting the black car into park, Russia opened the door and stepped out into the crisp Ukrainian air. “Come along, my Litva. Sofiya should be around here somewhere.”

[Lithuania]

It wasn't easy to kill a nation.

It usually took something fundamentally catastrophic, like being erased from the political map, the dissolution of a government, the complete loss of the collective national identity of an entire race. But today, Toris Lorinaitis was absolutely convinced that he was going to be erased from existence, in a road traffic accident in the middle of nowhere in Ukraine.

Somewhere between fighting the urge to throw up from carsickness and saying the Rosary desperately in his head, Lithuania found the wherewithal to dig his heels into the floor, cling to the rickety passenger door and wonder why the Hell Ukrainian cars didn't come equipped with seatbelts.

“There it is, Toris.”

“Eyes on the road, Vanya...please, for the love of God!” he blurted out under his breath in a slightly hysterical panic as they narrowly avoided hitting a tractor on the dusty road.

They were on their way to visit Sofiya, Ivan's elder sister. He wouldn't have minded so much if it was just a social call. Ukraine, for all her occasional lapses of emotional stability, was someone he found to be very likeable. To Lithuania's mind, she had a motherly air about her and an innate thoughtfulness which was somewhat lacking in her cold and beautiful younger sister. But the topic of nuclear weapons made the pacifist brunette deeply uncomfortable, and he hated the almost fetishistic obsession that his lover had developed for them over the last few years. He was glad that his own people were producing such a comparatively low volume, despite the displeasure this evoked with Ivan.

As the car screamed to a halt outside the factory, Toris found himself thrown forward against the dashboard, bracing the impact on his forearms.

“Come along, my Litva. Sofiya should be around here somewhere.”

He took a moment to calm himself down before shakily grasping the doorhandle and staggering out of the vehicle with the air of someone who has just survived a horrendously traumatic ordeal. Wiping his clammy hands on his trousers, he mustered a weak smile at his cheerful companion, studying him for a moment.

Things could be worse, he decided, the immediate horror of being trapped in a car with Ivan Braginski at the wheel slowly subsiding. Although, as much as he liked Sofiya, he found himself wishing that Ivan hadn't brought him along. He had reached a point where it was so much easier for him to hide away in the other man's house and not have to face the judgemental eyes of others. Self consciously, he ran a finger lightly over a stark bruise on his cheekbone, testament to a particularly hard slap from Ivan a few days ago after he'd clumsily broken a dinner plate.

But things could be worse. And it was nice to see the Ukrainian countryside, to see anything other than the inside of Ivan's house.

“You must be looking forward to seeing her,” he ventured quietly. Squinting in the Autumn sunlight in the direction of the large, looming factory building, he spotted a flash of blonde hair, not dissimilar to that of his companion. He put a hand lightly on Ivan's arm and nodded towards the tall, pretty blonde in the distance.

“There...”

He waved cautiously at the eldest of the Soviet siblings, with a shy, awkward smile, before staring down at his shoes uncertainly as he waited for her to approach them.

[ukraine]

Ukraine was feeling apprehensive today.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy to have the chance to see her brother. She hadn’t had a chance to really talk to him in quite a while, and she had to admit that she missed him. Nor did she have any objection to him bringing Lithuania along. She liked the little Baltic nation, and it would be good to see him again. If only Ivan was coming for some reason other than to inspect one of her factories, everything would be fine.

Sofiya was worried. She was afraid that Ivan would be dissatisfied with the weapons factory. She wasn’t deaf, after all. She had heard the complaints, everyone saying that her weapons were inferior, cheaply-made, poor-quality. She figured Russia must have heard the rumors, too. Probably everyone in the Eastern Bloc had heard about Ukraine’s weapons, how many there were, but how inferior. And they were right. It was all Russia’s fault, of course. Surely he understood that if he asked for a lot of weapons, they wouldn’t be very good quality, and that if he asked for superior weapons, she wouldn’t be able to produce as many? You couldn’t have both quality and quantity. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. Then again, her brother had never been the best at thinking rationally.

She was also worried that he would have the opposite reaction. She didn’t want him to be too enthusiastic about the weapons that she was mass-producing, to decide that it was a shame not to put them to use in a real war. Sofiya was terrified that a nuclear war would start between the Soviet Union and America. She wasn’t a big fan of wars – over the years, they had brought her nothing but hardship, and she knew that if the cold war turned into World War III, it would be worse than anyone could imagine. She wasn’t blind any more than she was deaf. The whole world had seen what nuclear warfare did to a nation. Personally, she wouldn’t wish that sort of destruction on anyone, let alone herself and her siblings.

Now, she stood outside a weapons factory near Kiev, waiting for Russia and Lithuania to join her for an inspection of the factory. She hoped that this would go well. She was, after all, producing weapons in much larger quantities than the other Soviet nations, and in much less time, and Russia seemed pleased with that. Maybe this really would be just a short, pleasant visit, and a chance for her to catch up with her little brother.

As Ukraine contemplated the future visit, a car pulled up in front of the factory. The door opened, and Russia’s large figure emerged, followed by Lithuania. They stood there for a moment, no doubt admiring the large factory looming overhead. Then Toris, apparently noticing Ukraine, waved nervously at her. Ukraine waved back and put a smile on her face. As she walked toward the other nations, she tried to pretend that this was just going to be a social visit between three friends who hadn’t spoken in a while. It didn’t work. Nothing was ever that simple. But pretending at least made things easier sometimes, and she would enjoy being able to see Ivan again.

“Hello, Vanya,” she said warmly, looking up at her brother. How unfair, she thought, that an older sibling should have to crane her neck to look up at a younger sibling who was so much bigger and taller. It was just like the way their countries worked, with Russia being the biggest and most powerful, and Ukraine being smaller and more submissive. But now wasn’t the time to think like that.

She turned to Lithuania, and her eyes widened sympathetically as she noticed an ugly bruise on his cheek. Russia’s work, no doubt. Well, he had done much worse before. He had come close to killing Ukraine herself, his own sister, during the Holodomor. She should have been desensitized to it by now, after so many years of Russian rule, but she wasn’t. She had a caring, motherly quality that just couldn’t stand to see others in pain, whether they were her human citizens or other personified nations. Even when the nation in question claimed to be in love with his abuser.

“Hi, Toris,” she said, trying and failing to keep the pity out of her voice. She gave the Baltic a sympathetic smile and then turned her attention back to her brother.

“It’s good to see you again,” she said. “Are you ready to see the factory?”

[Russia]

“You must be looking forward to seeing her.”

Ivan stared up at the large factory curiously; the sunlight outlining the dark mass of metal and concrete. He considered the statement for a moment before deciding that a part of him really was looking forward to seeing his elder sibling again. Yet there were those nasty rumors floating around, that would surely somehow make the reunion that much less enjoyable. Then of course, there was the fact that spending too much time with his sisters could be rather depressing these days. It was easier to want to spend time with Ukraine as opposed to Belarus though, since Ukraine didn’t cling to him and insist on marriage at all. Hopefully this encounter with his older sister went better than usual despite the business edge to the visit.

“Да.” He verbally agreed with his companion, as the Baltic pointed out the feminine shape of his sister with a shy wave. With his characteristic look of friendliness, he approached the other blond.

“Привет, сестра.” The Russian replied amicably in response to her warm greeting. He studied his sister over, noting that she appeared to be in good health. She was certainly doing much better now that the war had been over for awhile and she had had time to heal. They had all been so busy after the fighting had finally stopped, that he had never really noticed how much better she had looked until now. Then again, they all looked in better health since the war had ended. As much as Ivan liked the fighting aspect of wars, he had to admit that the constant injuries and generally feeling physically exhausted all the time were less fun.

As Ukraine’s eyes widened slightly, Ivan followed her gaze to Toris. His sister looked as though she had never seen a Baltic nation before. Strange, since he knew that wasn’t the case. He stared at his servant’s bruised features with naïve confusion, wondering what his sister could have possible found so startling.

“It’s good to see you again.”

The violet-eyed Soviet pulled his gaze away from his servant, returning it to the soft unblemished features of his sister.

“Are you ready to see the factory?”

He smiled and gave a nod. “да. Let’s go inside then?” He waited for Sofiya to take the lead, since it was her factory and she was bound to know her way around it better than he would. “Come along, Toris.” He figured the other Soviet nation would be good and follow anyways, but he threw the verbal command out there in the off chance that the Toris had been considering staying outside and waiting.

The factory looked even larger on the inside than it had on the outside. As they entered the chilly building, Russia found himself pulling his scarf a little bit tighter to help block out the autumn cold. There were Ukrainians everywhere, doing all sorts of monotonous looking, mechanical tasks. Glancing around at the workers, Russia decided that he would surely hate to be one of them. He never thought making something as exciting as weapons could appear so dull. “They look so mechanical.” he stated quietly. It was a sight that would have surely made Stalin proud back when he had been leader. So many workers, only focused on the task at hand and making no complaints at their dull job. It was the a perfect example of productivity.

Convincing himself that these Ukrainians were all happy to be so productive, despite many of their frowns, he decided to focus on something else. “This looks like an impressive assembly you have here, Sofiya. Very productive. Let me say that I am thrilled with your ability to make so many weapons so fast.” he turned to his Baltic momentarily. “Take notes, Litva. You should get operations like these started up within your own borders.”
_________________________
((Translations: "да"= Yes "Привет, сестра" = hello sister))

[Lithuania]

Toris responded to Sofiya's greeting with a tight smile and a nod, pretending that he didn't notice the frank look of surprise and pity on her face, even as his cheeks began to flush.

At Ivan's command, he followed silently behind, keeping a respectful few steps behind the siblings, mostly because he dreaded the prospect of being pulled into a discussion about nuclear weaponry. His wide green eyes skimmed over the rows and rows of workers, each of their faces blank and expressionless, each mechanically performing the same task over and over again. And that task was to make weapons of untold destruction. The sight was chilling, and Lithuania found himself swallowing hard and suppressing a shiver.

It was wrong, so very wrong. How could Ivan do this, how could he use his sister's children to make such hideous things, turning them into a human production line for something so bleak and hideous? He looked away, looked at the floor so he wouldn't have to watch the eerie sight of so many Ukrainians working in miserable robotic unison.

“Take notes, Litva. You should get operations like these started up within your own borders.”

Toris looked up with a nervous start, his eyes wide and slightly guilty at having not paid attention to the conversation thus far.

“I...I...” he stammered, turning white. Something like this within his homeland was the last thing in the world he wanted. Besides, how was he supposed to do anything when Ivan refused to let him leave Russia, except on the very rare occasions like today, where he accompanied him on his business? Biting his lower lip nervously, he looked at the two Slavic nations. “I...well...you know...” he looked down at the floor, “I haven't been back to my homeland in over a decade, since the war ended...” A pained, helpless expression flitted across his face as he thought of how much he desperately missed his country, and Vilnius especially. The last time he saw his capital, it was in ruins from Ludwig and Ivan's fighting. “...so um...I don't know if I can really comment on Lithuanian productions, sir...”

He looked away, eyes flitting over the sickening lines of production. “But you must be very proud, Sofiya...” he added quietly. And if there was almost no feeling in his voice, then there was certainly as much of a trace of sympathy in his expression as he dared allow in front of Ivan.

[ukraine]

As Sofiya led the group into the factory, she felt her spirits quickly fall. It hurt her to see her people like this, slaving away to create weapons that she didn’t ever want to have to use. What an awful job to have to do, all this monotonous work to create such terrible things!

“They look so mechanical.”

And they did, repeating the same dull tasks over and over, mindlessly. Like machines, almost, except that they weren’t machines, they were human. But they might as well be machines, with the way that they worked, so monotonously. No need to think.

She listened as Russia praised her productivity, and she nodded and forced a smile. “Thank you, brother,” she whispered.

She felt herself shudder slightly. This was good and praiseworthy? To Sofiya, it looked like Hell. Couldn’t Russia see how miserable everyone was, working in unison like this, miserable beyond the point of even caring? Was he so far gone that he was numb to their pain? In his sick, twisted mind, her children probably deserved this, but she knew that they didn't. How could they?

“Take notes, Litva. You should get operations like these started up within your own borders.”

The little Baltic nation muttered something about not having been to his homeland recently, not having any control over what his people did, and Sofiya felt another spark of pity. How awful to be so disconnected from the very place and people who give you life. Of course most nations went through it at some point, but Lithuania seemed particularly prone to being invaded and forced into servitude. Of course Toris wouldn’t have control over Lithuanian weapons when he was stuck back in Russia, playing servant to Ivan. Really, other than Russia, which nation in the USSR did have a say in what their people did, what their bosses decided? If Ukraine had any real power herself, she would definitely not be producing so many of these awful weapons.

“But you must be very proud, Sofiya ...”

No, of course she wasn’t. How could she be? How could any nation with any amount of sanity be proud of something like this? But at the same time, it wouldn’t do to voice that opinion in front of the personification of Russia himself, and she was glad that at least her people were doing what was asked of them and not trying to stage some pointless rebellion. There had been a time when she would have wanted just that, a rebellion, but those days were over and she knew that struggling only made things worse in the end. So maybe it was better to just be a good, loyal, productive member of the Soviet Union. Maybe it was for the best to produce large quantities of weapons and do whatever Russia told her. By his standards, she was succeeding in doing something good. Maybe she should be proud. But secretly, she didn't think so.

“Yes,” she lied. “I’m very happy to be able to contribute.”

[Russia]

His servant looked almost panicked as Ivan looked at him. Like a deer caught in the headlights, or an unarmed enemy caught in the crosshairs of a rifle. It was a comical sight to the tall Russian, who gazed at his servant expectantly.

“I...well...you know...I haven't been back to my homeland in over a decade, since the war ended......so um...I don't know if I can really comment on Lithuanian productions, sir...”

It was a very true statement. Russia had not allowed him back to his own borders since he had snatched him away from Germany at the end of the war. As much as Toris probably wanted to push his people to raise the weapons production in his own lands, he really had no chance to do it. It was a sad situation to be sure, but necessary all the same. Ivan was not about to loosen his hold on his green-eyed servant for anything; weapons or otherwise.

Ivan shifted his attention back to his sister as Toris remarked that she must have been very proud. She should be proud. It only made sense for her to be proud of something as important as this. Weapons manufacturing was a big deal in times like these, with the threat of a nuclear war looming over them all. The thought that at any moment he could be attacked had kept him awake many times, and he was sure that the only way to keep his lands safe was to make as many weapons as they could so they could be ready. He just knew America was quietly waiting for any sign of weakness- missiles aimed and ready. Probably the only reason the capitalistic swine had not nuked Moscow off the map was because they knew Russia could retaliate. He may have lacked the number of weapons that America had, but he still had a decent stash of nuclear weapons ready to set loose on Washington DC at the slightest sign that the other country was preparing for an attack.

“Yes, I’m very happy to be able to contribute.”

Russia smiled at his sister’s words. “I’m glad to hear it. The more weapons the better, yes? We can’t have those capitalist beasts thinking that we are unable to defend our own borders after all. Just think of how many enemy lives something like this could end.” Russia had paused besides one of the stations to examine a missile of sorts. He rested a hand on the cool metal thoughtfully. This factory was producing so many different types of weapons too, he wondered what else they would run across as they explored the production lines.

He gave the missile a gentle stroke, looking at it with an insane sort of happiness. Tearing his gaze away from the weapon, he studied his companions again. “As thrilled as I am with your productivity, Sofiya, I have heard some interesting things regarding your weapons. It’s part of the reason I am here, in fact.”

He sighed softly, hoping that the rumors of cheaply made Ukrainian weaponry were false and that his sister would be able to set things straight. Using the Ukrainian he had learned a long time back, he dismissed the workers that were nearest to them, not wanting them so close when he questioned his sister. Using the common tongue, he knew that the workers would not understand anyways, but the paranoid part of him insisted on them being a ways off despite this.

Leaning back against some large metal casings, Ivan gave his companions the usual serene smile, as though nothing were amiss. “You have both heard these rumors yourselves, Да? I imagine most of the Union has by now. If you are familiar with these rumors, then I am sure you already know what I am going to ask you about, sister.”

[Lithuania]

“I’m glad to hear it. The more weapons the better, yes? We can’t have those capitalist beasts thinking that we are unable to defend our own borders after all. Just think of how many enemy lives something like this could end.”

Toris winced as he thought anxiously of Alfred Jones, his one time friend and employer. The bright, bubbly American had been unfailingly good to him, even if he could be a little hot-headed on the stage of world politics. The last he'd heard, America was still refusing to acknowledge Lithuania's incorporation into the USSR as anything less than an illegal occupation. He imagined that probably enraged Ivan somewhat, but he couldn't help but smile sometimes when he thought of Alfred's sweet and tactless hero-complex.

But of course, Alfred and Ivan were at each other's throats so constantly that to even mention the American's name would be tantamount to suicidal.

“You have both heard these rumors yourselves, Да? I imagine most of the Union has by now. If you are familiar with these rumors, then I am sure you already know what I am going to ask you about, sister.”

Toris looked at Sofiya fearfully. The little brunette was already well aware of the rumours regarding the poor quality of Ukraine's mass produced weaponry, and his heart went out to Ivan's sister. After all, when put under such tremendous time pressures, and with exhausted, unhappy workers and so little resources, how could Russia really expect high production standards?

“Vanya...I'm sure that Sofiya's children are doing the very best they can...” he cut in, his voice shaking a little. While keeping his mouth shut and not contradicting his lover was generally advisable, his heart went out to Ukraine, and the last thing he wanted was to see her being bullied and intimidated by her brother. “I'm sure the rumours are nothing more than...um...foreign attempts to spread bad propaganda...”

His conscience pricked guiltily, as though he was somehow betraying his old friend by implying that America was to blame, but then, Alfred wasn't above such things in reality. The American repeatedly kept trying to whip Ivan into a paranoid frenzy and it was better to blame someone who wasn't here than to watch Sofiya take the brunt of Ivan's manic obsessions.

He put a hand on Ivan's arm and looked up at him earnestly. “Sofiya is clearly trying her best...” he said quietly, his voice still shaking slightly. Telling Russia that he might be wrong, and especially doing so in front of someone else was a terrifying thing, but standing there helplessly and staring at his shoes while Ivan prepared to push his sister into a corner was equally abhorrent.

He swallowed hard and blurted his next words out as bravely as he could. “Perhaps you're mistaken, sir?”

[ukraine]

“Just think how many enemy lives something like this could end.”

Ukraine shuddered slightly at his words. That’s exactly what I’m worried about. She didn’t want to be responsible for that kind of death and destruction. America might be a bit of an idiot, but she didn’t want him to suffer and die in such a horrible way. And most of his people were only innocent civilians – capitalists, yes, but still civilians. Surely it wasn’t right to target them. And whatever they could do to America, he could do the same things to them. Surely Ivan didn’t really want to see the Soviet Union, his own sisters and his subordinates, maybe even himself, destroyed through nuclear warfare. In any war, there would always be losses, but this was different. This was too much. Any sane person could see that.

Unfortunately, Ivan did not qualify as sane. Sofiya had known that for a long time, and it was only reinforced as she watched him stroke the missile almost lovingly. How sick-minded did you have to be to look at and touch a dangerous weapon while smiling in that insane way?

But Ukraine didn’t have long to dwell on her brother’s insanity. She was pulled sharply out of her thoughts as Russia spoke again, telling her that he had heard some “interesting things” about her weapons. She flinched and her eyes widened in fear. She had hoped that he wouldn’t have heard, or that he would dismiss the rumors as nothing but unreliable gossip. Apparently, fate did not seem to be working in her favor today.

She was surprised that he dismissed the workers. Why would he have any reason to? If he didn’t want to be overheard, he could simply speak in the common tongue. Did he think that she had taught these people Shaykomay, the nations’ own language, so that they could eavesdrop on the conversation? It seemed like the kind of irrational conclusion that he would come to. She decided it was best not to question her brother’s paranoia when she was already treading on thin ice with the weapons issue.

“I am sure you already know what I am going to ask you about, sister.”

Sofiya let out a frustrated sigh. She hated Ivan’s mind games. So he was going to make her guess, was he? And what if she was wrong? What if he had come to inquire about a different problem and she only made it worse by bringing up an issue that he was sure to get angry about? Was it better to apologize now and promise to try harder and hope that he didn’t lose control of his temper too badly, or to pretend that she didn’t know what he was talking about and pretty much guarantee that he did get angry?

“I … I’m sorry ,” she stammered. “I …”

She gave a little sob, not quite sure what to say. Then she heard a quiet, nervous-sounding voice come to her aid. Lithuania.


“I’m sure Sofiya’s children are doing the very best that they can.”


Sofiya listened as Toris stammered that it was probably only propaganda, that she was clearly doing her best. He even went so far as to suggest that her brother was mistaken. Sofiya hadn’t known that the Baltic nation could be brave enough to stand up to Ivan. But she also couldn’t let him keep doing it. She knew if he kept it up, Russia would find a way to blame him, and she couldn’t let him suffer for her problems. She took a deep breath and braced herself.

“You’re talking about my weapons, yes?” she asked quietly. “I’ve heard the rumors, brother, and I’m sorry. I am trying my hardest, I really am.”

[Russia]

Inquisitive violet eyes scanned his sister’s face as he waited for an explanation. Even though Ivan had a tendency to misread people, the seemingly worried expression his elder sister wore did not escape his notice. Not a good sign. She must have known about the rumors, which led him to wonder why she had not looked into the problem before and fixed it. He saw it as her job as a nation to make sure her people were helping their union by whatever means.

“I … I’m sorry…I …”

Ivan’s disappointment did not show on his face, even as Toris attempted to jump to her aid over the matter. Turning his gaze to his servant, the tall Russian was not remotely swayed by the argument that Sofiya’s people were in fact trying hard. If they were trying to the best of their ability, they would not have been making mistakes with the weapons. The weapons would have easily matched their Russian counterparts in quality.

“I'm sure the rumours are nothing more than...um...foreign attempts to spread bad propaganda...”

He considered the idea. It was true, it seemed like something his western rivals might do. They were so very fond of spreading lies and deceit in attempts to get at him. Especially America. Spreading bad propaganda about the Soviet Union must have surely been one of Alfred’s favorite past times these days. But he had heard these complaints from his own armed military personal; men who had received these weapons first hand. Surely they would have known such rumors were merely propaganda if the weapons were indeed up to par, and with such knowledge, why would they spread Western propaganda?

His eyes swept over the factory briefly. The Ukrainians off working the lines looked hardworking enough. They didn’t appear overly lazy and inattentive to what they were doing at a glance. But if there was one thing Ivan had learned over the years, it was that people could not be trusted based on appearances. What he saw as his greatest foe- America- did not physically look as intimidating or malicious either, but Ivan knew for a fact that he was plotting the Unions’s downfall, just waiting for the right moment to strike.

“Perhaps you're mistaken, sir?”

The unexpected words brought his attention instantly back to Toris, his serene smile vanishing. The violently unhinged nation did not like being told he was mistaken about things, particularly not by a servant. As fond of Lithuania as he was, he would not tolerate having the other openly question him. “Do you really think I can’t tell western propaganda when I hear it, Lithuania? Do you think I…” his deceptive, gently spoken words were cut off by Ukriane’s quiet voice.

“You’re talking about my weapons, yes? I’ve heard the rumors, brother, and I’m sorry. I am trying my hardest, I really am.”

“Сестра, if you were trying your hardest, surely your people would not have such nasty rumors floating around about them. If these rumors are true, it’s a sign to me that your people are not trying their best. But, since we’re here, we can investigate these rumors for ourselves, yes?”

Grabbing Toris by the upper arm slightly rougher than usual for his earlier remarks, he gestured for Ukraine to follow them as he made his way towards an assemblage of supposedly finished small arms. “I think you two must not realize how important these weapons are for us. We need to be prepared for when the western powers attack. I ask so little of you, Sofiya. Only that you supply decent weapons in preparation of that fateful attack.”

Reaching a pile of newly manufactured AK-47s, Ivan released his servant’s arm. Taking one of the rifles in hand, he turned back towards his companions, with his characteristic smile once more on his soft boyish features. “I will be so very sad if we find out that you’re people have not taken such an important task seriously.” He set to work carefully examining the weapon, looking carefully for any careless flaws that might lead to the weapon being less effective. He could already tell that the rifle was thrown together with much less care than any of his own AK-47s. The material appeared to be less refined as well. Outward appearance aside, he would at some point need to test the weapon first hand.

“What do you think Sofiya?” he offered the gun to her, wondering if she had anything to say in defense.

[Lithuania]

“Do you really think I can’t tell western propaganda when I hear it, Lithuania? Do you think I…”

Toris held his breath the moment Ivan's smile vanished, tensing himself for the possibility of a blow. But then Sofiya interrupted hastily and he shot her a grateful look.


“You’re talking about my weapons, yes? I’ve heard the rumors, brother, and I’m sorry. I am trying my hardest, I really am.”

His heart went out to her. When Ivan had his mind made up about something, he was like a dog with a bone, and no amount of apologies or pleading had any effect. Toris had learned that many times, the hardest way possible.

The Russian grabbed his arm, much too roughly, and he hissed through his teeth and closed his eyes, but tried not to make a sound. As the taller nation dragged him across the factory like a rag doll, in the direction of a pile of weapons, he looked back and shot Sofiya an apologetic little look, as if to say “I tried.”

Toris was in no doubt that Ivan would find flaws in the weapons. Aside from the fact that unreasonable Soviet demands meant that Sofiya's productions would almost certainly be lacking in quality, even if they were perfect, Russia was in the kind of mindset where he would find fault with them regardless.

Wide eyed, he watched Ivan run his fingers over the weapon and eye it critically. He fancied that he could already see a little gleam of judgement in those violet eyes. The Lithuanian looked down at the AK-47 as the blonde handed it to his sister, and even he could tell at a glance that the quality was poor.

“What do you think Sofiya?”

Swallowing hard, Toris reached up and twined his fingers through Ivan's, giving his hand a gentle, insistent squeeze, looking up at him with wide, imploring eyes.

“Vanya please...” he mumbled pleadingly to his lover, his voice tiny and subdued, perfectly aware that he was already fighting a losing battle. “She's...really trying her best.”

[ukraine]

“If these rumors are true, it is a sign to me that your people are not trying their best.”

Ukraine looked away, unable to meet her brother’s eyes. He had a point; she was fully aware that her weapons were not high-quality. There was no way that they could be. Russia didn’t seem to realize how much he was demanding from his older sister. It was also true that, although she was producing as many weapons as she could, she was not very enthusiastic about their production. The weapons scared her, and she supposed that her attitude toward them had affected her people to some extent. And then there were the workers themselves. When people were forced to work in such miserable conditions, it only stood to reason that the quality of their work would not be good. But that didn’t mean that Sofiya and her people were simply being lazy and slacking off. Under the circumstances, she was doing all that she could. Not that this would make any difference to Ivan.

“We can investigate these rumors for ourselves, yes?”

Sofiya’s heart sank. This must be one of Ivan’s sick games. He couldn’t just punish her here and now; he had to drag it out and play with her mind. As unpleasant as the idea was, she would prefer to just get it over with.

“I ask so little of you, Sofiya. Only that you supply decent weapons in preparation of that fateful attack.”

No, she wanted to scream. You ask so much! You ask me to force my children to work in awful places like this, manufacturing weapons that could end millions of lives in what would no doubt be the bloodiest war the world has ever seen, you ask for unreasonable quantities of these weapons, and then you’re upset that they’re not good enough for you! But she didn’t say anything. Arguing with Ivan would be suicide.

At least the weapons they were looking at now were only guns, only AK-47 rifles. Normal weapons, dangerous and deadly, but nothing compared to some of the others that she was producing. Still, she felt panic stirring inside her gut as Ivan picked one up and looked at it as if he was thinking of shooting someone with it. She flinched as he held it out to her, asking her what she thought.

Sofiya took the rifle with shaking hands as Toris pleaded with Ivan once again. She looked down at it and could tell at a glance that it was poor quality. It had obviously been thrown together carelessly by someone who was trying to get the job done as quickly as possible. It wasn’t so different from any of her other weapons, Sofiya noticed sadly. With large quotas to fill and unmotivated, miserable workers, how could things be any different?

What was she supposed to say? She could tell that pleading and apologizing would do no good. There was no point in begging for mercy when the nation in question didn’t know the meaning of the word. Defending her people’s work would only make it worse. Any attempt to explain would fall on deaf ears. Remaining silent would no doubt infuriate Russia. That was the worst part of his mind games: there was no way to win.

It was all just too much for Sofiya. Tears started welling up in her eyes, and she simply couldn’t stop herself from crying. She felt like she spent most of her time crying these days, but she just couldn’t help it. Her emotions were so strong and unpredictable. In that way, she wasn’t so different from her siblings. They were all volatile in completely different ways. Natalya couldn’t contain her lust for Ivan, Ivan couldn’t control his sadistic side, and Sofiya couldn’t stop her tears from flowing. The difference was that Russia’s insanity and Belarus’ intensity made people more afraid of them, while Ukraine’s emotional instability only caused people to see her as weak and pathetic. But then again, if she was going to suffer, then she might as well be able to cry about it.

“I know it doesn’t seem very good,” she sobbed, looking up at her brother with teary eyes. “But it really is the best I can do. I’m making so many weapons that I just don't have the resources to make sure each of them is perfect.”

“I’m sorry, brother,” she said, shaking almost as much as Latvia, barely able to keep holding onto the gun, lifting a trembling hand to wipe away some of the tears still rolling down her cheeks. “I’m just not as good at these things as you are.”

“And …” Ukraine frantically searched for something else to say in her defense and immediately went with the first thing that came to mind. “Even if it doesn’t look very good, I’m sure it will work fine.”

As soon as the words left Sofiya’s mouth, she knew that she had made a mistake. She did not want her brother to get any ideas about shooting that gun. But it was too late to take it back now.

[Russia]

As Ukraine took the weapon from him, the violet-eyed nation turned his gaze to Toris, who was once more trying to defend his sister. He gave the Baltic’s hand a squeeze. “Toris, I’ll decide whether or not she’s trying her best.” he reprimanded his servant. “No need to be so eager to defend her. We’ll work out this little problem one way or another.” As enduring as Toris’ caring and protectiveness was most of the time, in this case it simply wasn’t necessary.

Russia’s eyes shifted back to observe Sofiya as she looked over the weapon. As he watched the Ukrainian, he noticed tears begin to well up in her blue eyes. His older sister was always so emotional. Ivan was baffled as to how she could cry so much, and allow her emotions to rule her like that. He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to be so upset all the time. Unless… she didn’t only cry when she was upset? Those couldn’t be tears of joy though, not with the poor craftsmanship of the gun she was holding. Staring at his sister, he figured that maybe it was something she did when she was nervous in addition to being upset. Like how some people would laugh even if they were terrified or upset. Not that Ivan had a place to point that out, being as how he had been known to laugh even when he was completely pissed off.

“I know it doesn’t seem very good, but it really is the best I can do. I’m making so many weapons that I just don't have the resources to make sure each of them is perfect.”

He met her watery gaze silently, disappointed by her words, and the fact that she had not been able to put his mind to rest about the rumors surrounding the weaponry. He had been hoping that maybe she would defend herself and claim that only these weapons were somehow being poorly produced; that in other parts of her land the weapons were better, and completely up to par. But his older sister never had been much of a liar. Not to him, anyways. And as much as he would have wanted to hear such a thing from her, it was better to hear the truth in the end.

“I’m sorry, brother. I’m just not as good at these things as you are.”

The blonde Russian gave her just a hint of a sympathetic look. No, she wouldn’t be as good as he was at things concerning defense. None of the other Soviets could be. By his way of thinking, he was the power of the Soviet Union, and the others were varying degrees of support.

Ukraine‘s remark about the guns working fine brightened his expression a little. He had been planning on testing them, and it was nice to see that his sister had been thinking the same thing. “Don’t cry, Sofiya. There is still a chance that the weapons will fire properly.” he tried to assure his older sibling. “And even if it doesn’t fire very well, we can surely encourage your people to do a better job from now on, yes?” With the shoddy outer appearance of the rifles, he was already planning on pushing her workers to produce better quality weapons. He saw no reason why her people couldn’t produce just as many weapons as they were now, only better quality.

“Grab the gun, Toris, and both of you follow me outside.” Ivan swept past his sister and started off towards the back door to the factory. He paused briefly near the exit to demand a few rounds of ammunition from one of the workers. The small Ukrainian man must have figured Russia to be a high ranking Soviet official or something similar, because he wasted no time in scampering off to a different station in the factory to fulfill the rather imposing nation’s request. The Russian had a very imposing build and stature, which always seemed to work in his favor to get people to pay attention to him when he was tossing around orders.

Once the man had returned and shoved the rounds of ammo at him, Ivan pushed the door open and made his way outside. The sunset was casting the usually golden September landscape in a strange reddish color, and the buildings off in the distance were just small black silhouettes. It was a good thing there was still enough light to see by, even if it was dim. “Now, what should I use as a target?” he asked his nation comrades, scanning the area for a target.

[Lithuania]

Toris gasped slightly in pain as Ivan squeezed his hand a little too hard. He bit his lip as Sofiya started to sob, his chest tightening even as he was too fearful of his volatile lover to speak up again. He listened to her pleas and there was a tiny spark of hope in his expression as he saw a hint of sympathy in the Russian's eyes.

Ivan's lilting, gentle voice told her not to cry and the brunette shivered at that all too familiar tone, which usually accompanied something deeply unpleasant. He shot Ukraine a look of desperate sympathy and opened his mouth to say something futile on her behalf, when Ivan suddenly ordered him to take the gun, and began to sweep abruptly out of the factory.

“I'm so sorry, Sofiya...” he mumbled, half-ashamed as he picked up the weapon and followed his captor, his shoulders slumped in a defeated air. At least Ivan would not be as brutal with his own sister as he frequently could be with his servants. Hanging his head, he followed the tall blonde outside, staring at the poorly made gun in his hands.

There was a certain beauty to the stark Ukrainian landscape as they exited the factory. For a faint moment, Toris found himself lost in the sight of the sunset, and the fresh air of the evening. It was something he normally only had the privilege of looking at from the window of Ivan's house. But the sobering weight of the weapon in his hands brought the situation back home with frightening clarity and he looked up anxiously as the Russian glanced around him.

“Now, what should I use as a target?”

“No, I'm sorry!” The words left his lips without a second thought as an irrational panic seized the Lithuanian at those words. He clutched the gun tighter to his chest with wide eyes and a shudder at the sudden thought that the blonde might be referring to him. But no...Ivan could not possibly be so blatantly sadistic, and the Soviet nation had very rarely shot him in the past. Besides, it seemed unlikely that he would choose to play such a dreadful game while on official business. He tended to favour the worst of his cruelty for when they were alone together in that awful basement.

Still...he couldn't help but grip onto the gun with white knuckles, as though he were reluctant to surrender it to the hands of someone with such questionable sanity.

“The fence!” he blurted out nervously, nodding to an old wooden structure that was some metres away from where they stood. His voice sank to an almost pleading whisper. “I think that fence would be the best target...”

And yet still, he momentarily refused to surrender the gun, looking desperately from the Russian, to his sister, and back.

[ukraine]

Well, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. After all, something in Ivan’s eyes looked an awful lot like pity. Maybe he had realized that he was really just asking too much of her. Maybe he wouldn’t get too angry.

Yes, and maybe he and America would make up and forget all this nuclear nonsense. That was about as likely. Knowing him, he was just playing with her already unstable emotions, trying to make her lower her guard. Or maybe he did feel genuinely sorry for her. It probably didn’t matter. Her brother never seemed to see anything that he did as wrong or cruel. In a really twisted way, he was very innocent, despite the terrible things that he did. He was perfectly capable of hurting those who he cared about without even realizing how badly he was hurting them.

She flinched as Ivan told her not to cry. How could she not cry? Ukraine cried whenever anything bad happened, even trivial things. How could she not cry over something like this? Would Russia be angry if she couldn’t stop crying? That thought only made her cry harder as she tried to stifle her tears.

“Grab the gun, Toris, and both of you follow me outside.”

No, thought Ukraine desperately. This is not really happening. An angry Ivan getting ready to shoot one of Sofiya’s weapons … there was absolutely no way that could be a good thing. Toris’ apology did nothing to make her feel any better. She didn’t blame the Baltic nation, but his pity could do nothing for her. Ukraine hung her head as she followed her brother outside.

The land outside was beautiful, silhouetted by the sunset. It might not seem like much to most people, but to the woman who was the personification of this land and its people, it was absolutely stunning. Sofiya wished that she were able to enjoy it properly, without the fear of what Ivan might do hanging over her like an angry cloud.

“Now, what should I use as a target?”

Ukraine’s eyes widened in fright. She bit her lip, trying to stay silent and not give Russia any ideas. Lithuania shuddered fearfully and stammered an apology. Despite her own precarious situation, Ukraine felt another wave of pity for Toris, as well as disgust toward Ivan. I’m Russia’s sister, she thought. Lithuania is his lover. Out of all the nations, surely we shouldn’t have any reason to be afraid of him. And look at us, completely terrified. The only one who’s not afraid is Belarus, and she’s as crazy as he is. Can’t he see that there’s something wrong with that?

“The fence!” Lithuania said, obviously nervous.

Ukraine nodded nervously, grateful for the idea. “Yes, Vanya, why don’t you try shooting it at the fence? Or maybe that tree?” She pointed to a scraggly birch tree not far away and looked up at him with pleading eyes.

Please do something sane for once, she thought desperately. Shoot at the fence or the tree. Don’t do something crazy like shooting at me or my people. Please, little brother!

“Ivan?” she said timidly. “What do you think? The fence or the tree?”