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Post by Russia on Mar 20, 2011 14:16:36 GMT -5
((Beware, insane, gun-loving, paranoid commie rant dead ahead.))
“No, I'm sorry!”
Ivan turned his gaze to Toris in surprise. What are you apologizing for now, my little Baltic? His eyes immediately went to the gun that Toris was holding, at first thinking that maybe he was apologizing for damaging something on it somehow. It looked fine and in tact. In better condition that Toris really, who now looked wide eyed and horrified for some reason that Russia was not grasping. He decided that Baltics were simply easy to spook.
“The fence!”
With a slight laugh at the suddenness of the suggestion, he looked in the direction his servant had nodded in. Sure enough, there was an old looking wooden fence structure not too far off. It appeared as though it would make a fine target, it was roughly two hundred yards off, so well within the range of the assault rifle.
“Yes, Vanya, why don’t you try shooting it at the fence? Or maybe that tree?”
“Come now sister, a tree is too large of a target.” He teased lightheartedly. “Any child could hit a tree with a gun. I’ll aim for the fence.” He held out his hand expectantly to Toris, waiting for the other nation to hand over the questionably built Kalashnikov. But his servant-who usually was quick to do whatever he demanded- seemed hesitant to hand the rifle over. Impatiently, Ivan grabbed the firearm and pried it free from the Baltic himself. “You can’t be frightened of the prospect of me testing this gun, Toris. I know for a fact that you’ve used firearms before and don’t have a fear of guns.” Loading the assault rifle, he gave the other man a curious look. “You can’t honestly think I would turn it on either of you two. I don’t shoot people without reason.” With his deteriorating sanity, his reasons for shooting someone could be very questionable, but he did generally think that he never shoot someone who did not deserve it in some way.
Leveling the rifle, the Russian took careful aim at the fence post. Squeezing the trigger, he let loose a stream of hot lead on the weak wooden post, which splintered under the assault and sent small pieces of wood flying. He found that the rifle still held the same general values that all AK-47s were known for. In spite of the poor craftsmanship it still had the same rate of fire that the ones made in his own homeland did. Without a word he turned the weapon on the birch that his sister had pointed out, sinking a multitude of shots into it as well.
Insanely pleased at having destroyed a fence post and shot a tree full of holes, he still decided that his sister’s people could do better with making the weapons. They were never known for looking particularly sleek and impressive on the outside, but the ones built by his people still looked better than this one; more professional for sure. He was certain that due to better craftsmanship, his Kalashnikovs would hold up much better and be much more durable when it came time for war too. Insanely giving the gun a quick kiss, he turned to Ukraine. “She fired beautifully. However…” He studied his sister for a moment intently.
“I think your people can do a better job with the construction. This…” he waved the weapon carelessly as if to prove some sort of point. “Is not just some rifle. This is a symbol of our great Union. It’s worthy of being better made, isn’t it? It may fire like a Russian made Kalashnikov, but the craftsmanship is still so very poor in comparison to mine. We can’t have that, can we? When the West is at our doorstep and our people are bravely trying to eliminate the enemy for us, don’t you think they deserve a better looking weapon?” He offered the AK-47 to his sister.
Turning he addressed his servant. “Toris, would you send your people out on the front lines with something like this to represent our Union?” he gestured to the rifle.
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Post by Lithuania on Mar 20, 2011 17:29:28 GMT -5
“You can’t honestly think I would turn it on either of you two. I don’t shoot people without reason.”
Toris looked at Ivan with wide eyes for a moment before swallowing hard and responding with a nervous, slightly-too-loud laugh. As his lover took the gun, he eyed it anxiously for a moment, exhaling only when the blonde man train the gun on the aforementioned fence. Edging back towards Sofiya, he looked at her hopelessly and gave the tearful nation's hand a quick, sympathetic little squeeze, just before Ivan opened fire.
Much to Toris' surprise, the gun, which looked shoddily made at first glance, seemed to fire like a dream. He waited with a sort of patient despair for his boyfriend to finish gleefully shooting holes in the surrounding scenery.
Of course, Ivan was never satisfied though, and he proceeded to admonish poor Ukraine on the poor aesthetics of her weapon. Privately, Toris also suspected that, while it might fire well now, it probably wouldn't live up to the rigorous demands of the battlefield. But there was no way he would even mention that in front of the Russian.
“Toris, would you send your people out on the front lines with something like this to represent our Union?”
He bit his lip awkwardly and glanced down at the weapon. “You know me, Vanya,” he said with what he hoped was as much diplomacy as possible. “I've never been one for the finer things in life. If she fires straight, then that's good enough for me.”
Or alternatively, maybe we could not send my children to die in any more wars, just because you've lost your mind.
Toris coughed and put a hand awkwardly and patted Sofiya on the arm, giving Ivan his most earnest smile. “I'm sure that everyone was just concentrating so hard on functionality that they forgot to pay attention to aesthetics. But it seems that they had the very best of intentions. Right, Sofiya?”
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Post by ukraine on Mar 25, 2011 21:01:35 GMT -5
Insanity. It was a crazy thing. Despite the feeling reassurance that Russia’s promises not to shoot at them brought, Ukraine wondered how he arrived at the conclusion that they couldn’t possibly be worried that he would. She had never seen him shoot at an unarmed ally before, but he was so unpredictable that this hardly made a difference.
Nevertheless, Sofiya’s main problem was still unresolved. Toris squeezed her hand sympathetically, and she gave him a grateful glance. She held her breath nervously as Ivan raised the rifle and took aim at the fence. Please let it work, she thought. If you’re there, God, I know you’re probably pretty upset with me these days, I’m sorry for renouncing you, I’m sorry for everything, just please let the gun fire the way it’s supposed to.
And it did. Ukraine breathed an uneasy sigh of relief as the bullets flew, first into the fence post, then into the tree. As ugly as the rifle was, she could see nothing wrong with the way that it fired. Of course, it might fire well the first time but fall apart quickly in battle, not that she was going to bring that up now, or ever, in front of Russia.
“This is not just some rifle. This is a symbol of our great Union. It’s worthy of being better made, isn’t it?”
Ukraine had to hold back a desperate laugh. What was it supposed to be, a weapon or a symbol? Apparently, both, at least from Russia’s viewpoint. Not only did it have to shoot straight and kill enemies, it had to look pretty, too.
“When the West is at our doorstep and our people are bravely trying to eliminate the enemy for us, don’t you think they deserve a better looking weapon?”
How about not getting into that situation in the first place? Despite Russia’s insistence that World War III would break out any day now, Ukraine still held onto the desperate hope that it would not. Considering America’s egotistical overconfidence and Russia’s mental instability, Ukraine wouldn’t be surprised if it did happen. But she could still hope.
Sofiya felt a slight wave of relief as she took the gun back from Ivan. Although she knew that they were on the same side and he probably wouldn’t shoot at her, she didn’t feel safe when the larger nation had a weapon in his hands. But the relief was short-lived as Ivan spoke again, asking Toris for his opinion on the weapon.
Thankfully, the Baltic kept up his usual diplomatic approach, insisting that functionality was good enough and the weapon’s appearance didn’t matter much, then stating his opinion that Ukraine’s people clearly had the best of intentions.
“Yes, of course,” she said, thankful for his metaphorical helping hand. “I guess I worry more about whether the weapons work than what they look like. It just never struck me as very important …”
Her voice wobbled a little bit as she tried to come up with something to say that would give her brother what he wanted to hear without promising too much. She still couldn’t afford to make every weapon look good and last a long time if she was still going to keep producing so many, but she didn’t dare to say that.
“If it matters to you, we can try to improve,” she said, looking up to meet Russia’s violet gaze. “You know I want what’s best for the Union.”
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Post by Russia on Mar 27, 2011 22:28:11 GMT -5
“You know me, Vanya, I've never been one for the finer things in life. If she fires straight, then that's good enough for me.”
He could understand the sentiment in most things, but not weapons. No, just firing straight was not good enough. They had to take into account durability and to some extent appearances. No matter how silly it was, Ivan had the childish desire to always try and outdo America on every aspect of weaponry. The Americans had some slick, beautiful designed guns, so he should arm his military with something even better. And whereas the Ukrainian made rifle fired well, it still did not look impressive enough to be given to his military. Toris must not have understood guns very well, or understand their significance and what they stood for concerning the Soviet Union. It didn’t surprise Ivan, since Toris had never been as concerned with these things as he was.
Ivan studied the bullet holes in the birch tree thoughtfully, listening to the Baltic’s explanation that Sofiya’s people had probably just forgotten to pay attention to aesthetics. It was possible. When working under a lot of stress he knew first hand that people could get foolish and forget things. He had seen Toris do it on several occasions when he was scrambling to get his list of chores done. But Russia was a very paranoid country by nature, and found it more likely that his sister’s people had just been slacking off and not putting their heart and soul into what they were producing.
“I guess I worry more about whether the weapons work than what they look like. It just never struck me as very important …”
With weaponry, it was all very important. He was tempted to point that out, but simply stared at his sister expectantly for a few moments waiting to see if she had anything more to add to her claim.
“If it matters to you, we can try to improve. You know I want what’s best for the Union.”
Ivan’s smile brightened at the statement. “Of course you do, sister. Which is why I know you won’t mind insisting that your people bring the quality of weaponry up to my standards.” It wasn’t too much to ask by his reasoning. Then again, Ivan rarely thought too hard about how much stress he put on his subordinates and their people. He couldn’t put himself in anyone else’s shoes so to say, and had a hard time grasping the concept that he really did expect too much sometimes. He wanted things to go his way, and he did not really think about how unfair that might be for anyone else.
Moving over to stand by Toris, he wrapped a burly arm around the small Baltic’s shoulder. He had seen what he needed to see with his own eyes, and they would be leaving Ukraine soon and heading back towards his own borders. “Sofiya, not only do I want the quality and general looks of the weapons to go up, but I also expect the production to go up. I know I can count on you to whip your people into shape and start producing greater quantities of better weapons. You would do that for your little brother, wouldn’t you?”
Of course she would. Why wouldn’t she? If she cared about their glorious Union she would do anything in her power to see that Ivan’s demands were met. It only made sense. He liked to think Sofiya would do anything for him anyways just because she was his sister. Family ties meant something to him, so he always assumed they must mean something to other nations as well.
“We should be leaving my Litva. I am sure Sofiya has a lot to do now.” He turned his gaze back towards the Ukrainian nation for a moment as though waiting for her to confirm that. ________________________ ((Poor Toris, having to get back in the car with Ivan behind the wheel. XD I can close this one up with my next post if you guys want. Just let me know if you have other plans.))
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Post by Lithuania on Apr 8, 2011 16:50:42 GMT -5
“Sofiya, not only do I want the quality and general looks of the weapons to go up, but I also expect the production to go up. I know I can count on you to whip your people into shape and start producing greater quantities of better weapons. You would do that for your little brother, wouldn’t you?”
“Sir, that's not...” he began, but realised almost instantly that it would be no use at all contradicting the larger man. If anything, they should both be grateful that he was in one of his marginally less homicidal moods that day. Shuffling his feet, he kept his head bowed, his eyes darting up briefly to shoot a guilty glance at Sofiya. Surely she would understand as well as he did that there was nothing to be done but nod and agree with the unhinged blonde who held all of the cards. Perhaps there had once been a time when his opinions had held some small weight with his lover, but now telling Ivan whatever he wanted to hear, no matter how infeasible, seemed to be the only thing that came close to pacifying him these days.
He looked up at the man whose arm was wrapped around his thin frame. Once upon a time, a gesture like that would have made his heart skip happily, but today he could only feel a sinking feeling in his stomach. Still, he leaned his head against the taller nation's chest, reaching up to lock his fingers with the hand which dangled from his shoulder, giving it a tiny, placating squeeze.
“She will,” he said, looking up earnestly into violet eyes which were tinged with mania. “She'll do her best. She loves you...we both do.”
He forced a watery smile and shot Sofiya a helpless glance. But in an unhappy sort of way, she was one of the luckier ones. Of those who were close to Ivan, it was Lithuania who had to deal with his paranoia and mood swings on a day-to-day basis, who was there at night to calm him down, who was forever taking the brunt of his volatile whims. He pitied her deeply, couldn't help but feel so very sorry for the woman whose children were already working their hands to the bone in order to fuel Russia's paranoid obsession with a war he prayed would never come to fruition. But she wasn't the one who would be going home with him, who was caring for him and watching his fragile mental state degenerate further and further beyond repair.
I miss the days when you were saner...
At Ivan's assertion that they were leaving, his heart sank a little. He'd hoped to grab a moment alone with Ukraine, to at least be able to speak to her honestly, to console her a little, even for a brief moment. In his opinion, she was as emotionally fragile as Ivan was mentally, and he felt for her deeply.
“It was lovely to see you again, Miss Sofiya,” he said with measured politeness, green eyes bright and sorrowful. “Please take care of yourself and give my regards to your sister, next time you see her.” He found himself wanting to hug her, but the brawny arm around his shoulder restrained him from doing so. And it was probably for the best.
Looking back up at Ivan nervously, it suddenly occurred to him at leaving meant getting back in the car and enduring another few hours of the Russian's spectacularly dangerous driving. It had taken all of his strength not to throw up out of the passenger window on the journey there.
“Vanya...perhaps I might offer to drive? Y..you must be tired. It's been a long day after all...”
----------------------------------------------------- OOC: Oh God, for some reason I had it in my head that it was Ukraine's turn to post. Please forgive me for delaying the thread so much!!!
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Post by ukraine on Apr 14, 2011 18:49:23 GMT -5
“You would do that for your little brother, wouldn’t you?”
Ukraine stared up at Russia with frightened eyes still stained by her tears. She was afraid of disobeying her brother and terrified of making him angry, but she didn’t see how she could say yes to such an unreasonable demand. Her people were already faced with higher quotas than she could reasonably handle; how could she possibly pay more attention to quality and increase production? But, as anyone who had lived under his rule for any time at all knew, it was not wise to say no to Ivan Braginski, so Sofiya nodded her head obediently and muttered “I’ll try my best.”
She heard Lithuania talking, affirming that he believed she would try her best. His words comforted the tearful nation. It was nice to know that there was someone else in the Soviet Union who would support her, even if it was only Lithuania, a nation who was in an even more desperate situation than Ukraine and whose opinions carried absolutely no weight with the nation in charge.
“She loves you. We both do.”
Ukraine nodded sadly. The truth was that she was very much like Lithuania in that way, except that her love for Russia was sisterly while his was romantic. Despite the years of fear and abuse, Ukraine still cared about Russia. It hurt her worse than she liked to admit to see his mental state constantly deteriorating and be forced to watch him become more insane and bloodthirsty with each year that passed. She wished desperately that she could somehow bring him back to relative sanity even though she had no illusions that it could ever be done.
“It was lovely to see you again, Miss Sofiya. Please take care of yourself and give my regards to your sister, next time you see her.”
“Of course,” Ukraine replied, although the thought of seeing her frightening youngest sibling again was not a pleasant one. No doubt Belarus would be jealous that Russia had come to visit his older sister rather than his younger one. Not that I would visit her either, if I were him, she thought, but I really don’t want to deal with her obsession again.
“I hope to see you both again soon,” she said, forcing a smile. That was an outright lie. She certainly wouldn’t mind talking to Lithuania more often, but Russia never seemed to let the Baltic out of his sight. Ukraine cared about her brother, but she was also afraid of him, and his visits made her nervous – with good reason. The thought of seeing more of him than she already did was a terrifying one. However, she was aware that "please don't come back until you're sane" was not an acceptable form of goodbye. Anyway, she knew that he would come and visit her when he wanted to whether or not she encouraged him, so why not play along if it would help keep him happy?
As the two other nations walked back toward their car, Ukraine turned around and ran back into the factory. The tears that had been pooling up in her eyes could stay there no longer, so she let them flow. Crybaby, she scorned herself. She looked around at the workers, still monotonously slaving away. How could she ask them for more than they were already giving her? How could she do that to her people and herself? She knew that she would never be able to come close to meeting Russia’s demands. It just wasn’t realistic. She was already giving everything she had.
Maybe, somehow, it’ll be okay, Ukraine thought. Maybe if everyone works just a little bit harder, I can improve enough to keep him happy. Not likely, I know, but I can try my best and hope for a miracle.
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Post by Russia on Apr 15, 2011 17:56:57 GMT -5
It would have been better if Ukraine had stated that she would do more than try her best, but it was a start. Ivan was satisfied enough with the answer for now to let the uncertainty slip by without any complaint. If in the future he decided that if her best wouldn’t do, he would just have to pay her another visit and urge her to do more than try. Really, how hard could it be to make a large quantity of well made weapons? Firearms were not terribly complex things. And even the more powerful, nuclear weaponry that was being produced in her borders couldn’t be that hard to manufacture with the blueprints they had. It wasn’t like he was expecting her to come out with new deadlier weapons; just improve the quality of the ones she was making.
“Please take care of yourself and give my regards to your sister, next time you see her.”
Ivan couldn’t help but shudder at the mention of his other sister, even if only in just passing. As obsessed as he was with nuclear arms and war, she had the same level of obsession for him. For all her issues with being too emotional sometimes, Ivan felt that at least Ukraine was approachable. He wouldn’t dare to have journeyed to Belarus’ land to confront her about weapons production. Even if she had been the center of such rumors. The thought of trying to push Belarus to do something was a frightening one for Ivan, with his seemingly unnatural fear of his sister. No doubt she would ignore his demands and find a way to link weapons production with marriage.
“I hope to see you both again soon.”
The Russian pulled himself away from terrifying thoughts of Belarus and gave his elder sister a smile. It was good to see that she had taken his demands so well. She was even eager to see him again! That was something that most countries never were, especially not after he confronted them about anything. But Ukraine must have realized that he was only trying to help defend the Union by making such demands. She must have understood that her people had in fact been lazy, and were more than capable of doing better.
“I look forward to seeing you again as well, sister. Hopefully not to investigate more rumors about your weaponry though. You should visit my place more often.” With a quick wave to his sister, he pulled Toris along with him towards the car.
“Vanya...perhaps I might offer to drive? Y..you must be tired. It's been a long day after all...”
The Russian stared at his Lithuanian companion for a moment before chuckling slightly at the remark. “I’m not tired, Litva. Long day or not, you know I don’t tire easily. I can still drive.” He ruffled his favorite servant’s hair playfully. “Besides, you drive far too slow and I don’t like sitting in the passengers seat. Makes me feel less in control.”
Carelessly, he opened the passenger’s door for his servant, shoving him in quickly before slamming the door shut. Taking his own seat at the wheel, Ivan started the ignition and merrily pressed the pedal to the metal, steering the car out of the driveway and back onto the dusty road in the direction of home. ______________________ ((And so it ends. I feel so sorry for poor Toris being trapped in a car with Russia like that. Poor thing needs a medal for bravery.))
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