Russia Greece 2/?
anonymous
November 22 2009, 06:48:49 UTC
The sun shone brightly above the sky but the weather was cool. The wind brushed against pale skin and wild chocolate brown hair, its owner sighed. He stood up and brushed dusts away from his clothes. He walked slowly taking in his surroundings, not a lot has changed seven years since 1821. Indeed he was independent, but his freedom was not really freedom. It was a cage enclosing him, hurting him. He kept on walking as if to look for an escape. Something he would never find because he was a country, and every country was encaged forever either by another country or their own people.
He kept on walking anyway, as he has been doing in the past few weeks only stopping to rest. He felt he was being called by something. A call of fate maybe if one wanted to call it that. The winds had gotten chillier as he moved forward but as it got colder it was as if he was getting closer to what was calling him, to what he was looking for.
A tall scarfed figure appeared as if by magic in the barren land he was standing on. His sandy blonde hair reflecting the sunlight and his pale skin glistening. Heracles stood in awe at the sight of the stunning form who seemed out of place yet fit in just right.
The figure smiled at Heracles it was neither filled with joy nor sadness, it was almost as if it was empty. Purple amethyst eyes examined him, so deep as if one would fall down to eternity if one stared at them. Silence surrounded them and the space between them seemed to swallow up everything due to the awkward tension. The quietness remained until the taller one spoke up.
“Nice to finally meet you, little one.”
“I’m not little…” The smaller one grumbled.
The tall one smiled, a bit more mischievous than before, he had heard of this country, not exactly newly born but is inexperienced in big wars, a newly liberated country. His scarf slightly dancing in the wind the taller man closed the space between him and Heracles. He held one bandaged hand out as if coaxing his companion to shake hands. Heracles looked at the hands stretched out before him before slowly raising his hands to hold it. He shook it without thinking that it would be the beginning of a long lasting relationship with this nation. Ivan smiled.
Russia Greece 3/?
anonymous
November 22 2009, 06:49:48 UTC
--
Chapter 2: Unlikely not
He sat elegantly, quietly drinking alcoholic beverage while listening to the meeting. Everyone was chattering about war tactics but he was there just having fun watching their unease. The war in Greece is almost over; the European Union has decided to grant Greece its independence. Finally he stood up.
The Russian army had backed up the revolt in southern Greece. It was about time the Ottoman fell, he had been arrogant for far too long. It was payback time.
--
The scent of burning flesh filled his nose and the sound of wailing deafened him. Heracles looked at the battle worn land in front of him. He was finally free. His people cheered and celebrations begun.
The celebrations were tiring but for his people it was important. Heracles watched the Russian in front of him, gracefully sipping alcoholic beverage. The Russian’s amethyst eyes looked from the drink to him. Then after an awkward silence almost full of tension the Russian smiled. The Grecian didn’t know how to react, but he smiled back, he didn’t want to upset his “ally”.
The Russian was mostly quiet, he only spoke when he wanted to say something important and he made sure it was worth hearing. He mostly camouflaged himself and only watches everyone around him. Most found him mysterious, some not trustworthy but to Heracles he was enticing. For the Grecian he appeared out of nowhere to support him in his endeavours like a saviour if one wanted to put it in a cheesy way.
Ivan watched Heracles he was very much the same yet different from his ancestors. He was beautiful and kind, wild like his mother, although he only got a glimpse of her before she disappeared. He got the fierceness and intelligence of his father the Byzantine Empire. Russia’s Godfather whom he owed the first tsar he served, who was directly blood related to the last Byzantine emperor, His first tsar was the nephew of Andreas Palaeologos. Aside from that Kievan Rus', Ivan’s ancestors was treated fairly as Byzantine’s equals. It was almost safe to say that the two nation’s past, present and future were intertwined by faith but of course it was a fact that was not meant to be said. It was a secret unbeknownst to both of them, but as the saying goes some things are better off unsaid.
Re: Russia Greece 4/?
anonymous
February 6 2010, 10:34:31 UTC
Chapter 3:
“Someone has got to pay for this!”
“That Russia has totally disregarded the treaty we’ve got to show them whose superior!”
“He should have known that outcome of his actions.”
“Prepare for war; prepare to crush those who oppose the empire.” --
“You sure act strong for someone as weak as you.” The Russian spoke with no remorse. Bloodied sword in hand. The Ottoman stood with pride despite the wounds that had stained his outfit scarlet.
The Ottoman smiled, “And you’re too arrogant for someone who was betrayed by his allies.”
Amethyst eyes widened.
The French and the Brits stood behind him, cold sharp steel placed at his neck, causing a cut which left a thin trail of blood.
The Russian smirked. He calmly held the blade which threatened to hurt him. He knew it wouldn’t kill him, it couldn’t.
Behind Francis and Arthur stood Heracles and the rest of the Balkans.
“It seems that you have been betrayed just as well.” Ivan’s tone was almost filled with pity.
He kept on walking anyway, as he has been doing in the past few weeks only stopping to rest. He felt he was being called by something. A call of fate maybe if one wanted to call it that. The winds had gotten chillier as he moved forward but as it got colder it was as if he was getting closer to what was calling him, to what he was looking for.
A tall scarfed figure appeared as if by magic in the barren land he was standing on. His sandy blonde hair reflecting the sunlight and his pale skin glistening. Heracles stood in awe at the sight of the stunning form who seemed out of place yet fit in just right.
The figure smiled at Heracles it was neither filled with joy nor sadness, it was almost as if it was empty. Purple amethyst eyes examined him, so deep as if one would fall down to eternity if one stared at them. Silence surrounded them and the space between them seemed to swallow up everything due to the awkward tension. The quietness remained until the taller one spoke up.
“Nice to finally meet you, little one.”
“I’m not little…” The smaller one grumbled.
The tall one smiled, a bit more mischievous than before, he had heard of this country, not exactly newly born but is inexperienced in big wars, a newly liberated country. His scarf slightly dancing in the wind the taller man closed the space between him and Heracles. He held one bandaged hand out as if coaxing his companion to shake hands. Heracles looked at the hands stretched out before him before slowly raising his hands to hold it. He shook it without thinking that it would be the beginning of a long lasting relationship with this nation. Ivan smiled.
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Chapter 2: Unlikely not
He sat elegantly, quietly drinking alcoholic beverage while listening to the meeting. Everyone was chattering about war tactics but he was there just having fun watching their unease. The war in Greece is almost over; the European Union has decided to grant Greece its independence. Finally he stood up.
The Russian army had backed up the revolt in southern Greece. It was about time the Ottoman fell, he had been arrogant for far too long. It was payback time.
--
The scent of burning flesh filled his nose and the sound of wailing deafened him. Heracles looked at the battle worn land in front of him. He was finally free. His people cheered and celebrations begun.
The celebrations were tiring but for his people it was important. Heracles watched the Russian in front of him, gracefully sipping alcoholic beverage. The Russian’s amethyst eyes looked from the drink to him. Then after an awkward silence almost full of tension the Russian smiled. The Grecian didn’t know how to react, but he smiled back, he didn’t want to upset his “ally”.
The Russian was mostly quiet, he only spoke when he wanted to say something important and he made sure it was worth hearing. He mostly camouflaged himself and only watches everyone around him. Most found him mysterious, some not trustworthy but to Heracles he was enticing. For the Grecian he appeared out of nowhere to support him in his endeavours like a saviour if one wanted to put it in a cheesy way.
Ivan watched Heracles he was very much the same yet different from his ancestors. He was beautiful and kind, wild like his mother, although he only got a glimpse of her before she disappeared. He got the fierceness and intelligence of his father the Byzantine Empire. Russia’s Godfather whom he owed the first tsar he served, who was directly blood related to the last Byzantine emperor, His first tsar was the nephew of Andreas Palaeologos. Aside from that Kievan Rus', Ivan’s ancestors was treated fairly as Byzantine’s equals.
It was almost safe to say that the two nation’s past, present and future were intertwined by faith but of course it was a fact that was not meant to be said. It was a secret unbeknownst to both of them, but as the saying goes some things are better off unsaid.
Reply
“Someone has got to pay for this!”
“That Russia has totally disregarded the treaty we’ve got to show them whose superior!”
“He should have known that outcome of his actions.”
“Prepare for war; prepare to crush those who oppose the empire.”
--
“You sure act strong for someone as weak as you.” The Russian spoke with no remorse. Bloodied sword in hand. The Ottoman stood with pride despite the wounds that had stained his outfit scarlet.
The Ottoman smiled, “And you’re too arrogant for someone who was betrayed by his allies.”
Amethyst eyes widened.
The French and the Brits stood behind him, cold sharp steel placed at his neck, causing a cut which left a thin trail of blood.
The Russian smirked. He calmly held the blade which threatened to hurt him. He knew it wouldn’t kill him, it couldn’t.
Behind Francis and Arthur stood Heracles and the rest of the Balkans.
“It seems that you have been betrayed just as well.” Ivan’s tone was almost filled with pity.
Reply
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