eremitic contentment

BEAUTY IS MYSTERIOUS AS WELL AS TERRIBLE. GOD AND DEVIL ARE FIGHTING THERE, AND THE BATTLEFIELD IS THE HEART OF MAN. ЗДРАВСТВУЙТЕ. GREETINGS. I HAVE BEEN CALLED MANY NAMES IN MY TIME, BUT TODAY THEY CALL ME RUSSIA. YOU MAY ADDRESS ME AS IVAN BRAGINSKIY. БОЛЬШЕ СЛУШАЙ, МЕНЬШЕ ГОВОРИ. ((INDEPENDENT ROLEPLAYING BLOG FOR MY INTERPRETATION OF AXIS POWERS HETALIA'S RUSSIA.})

[janocju]

-He holds up his hands like a thief caught red-handed but one that still retained a cheeky defiance almost on par with Angelique’s.- Okay, okay, you have well and truly caught me out here. You can guess how difficult it is to move and stir a great oaf such as I!

-Ivan stands back and feigns a hurt looking pout, curling his hands into fists and setting them squarely on his hips.- A giant shaven bear, really! I have heard no complaints about both size and lack of body hair. Well, even if I had copious amounts it would not suit me, I think. I would look like a… what is it? A yeti, mayhaps? An “abominable snowman” of some sort? Certain others make that matter of quilts of bodyhair, ah, work better for themselves.

[latersonsonafrote-blog]

Who said I was complainin’? [She raises an eyebrow slyly, tapping her chin.] Sounds like a personal d’ing, darlin’. Men a yeti would be real warm in d’a winter, I’d say, so maybe ease off d’a razor! Wait- is d’at where ya’ were all November? No-Shave November, or whatever d’a Nort’ Americans were playin’ at? D’a secret is revealed! [Poking his tummy for emphasis, she dissolves into laughter.] 

Men quilts? Quilts? Hold up, I know y’all got some cray-cray chillen up in Europe…Asia… Cold-land, men who be makin’ quilts out d’eir hair? Is d’at some kind’a whack fetish, or is d’is a real d’ing, or…[ She trails off, looking genuinely concerned] Y’all need Jesus. 

[janocju]

"No-Shave November"... goodness me, what do you think my follicles are capable of beyond the locks sitting atop my head? - The looming Russian pats his pale blond locks for emphasis, with a beaming grin-

Quilts out of hair?! N-no! Heavens above, I merely meant men who would at a distance be mistaken for some kind of bear, not actively making pillow stuffing from their own hair or anything as absurd! Not willingly, in any case.

-He blinks, wrinkling the bridge of his nose a tad as he scrunches his eyes at the statement.- Did he preach against quilts of hair? I recall not from the sermons I've heard over my years. -A giddy laugh escaped him.- Now that would certainly be a thing to see in scripture, wouldn't it?

[latersonsonafrote-blog]

As if d’ere was ever any doubt, boug. Men ya’ can pretty it up all ya’ wish, what ya’ really did is go an’ sleep for a few weeks. Or mont’s. Hibernation, yeah? [She grins, cheeky as you like, and presses herself into his coat (largely due to the sheer amount of warmth it generally presents)]

Men I’ve gone and done d’a same, I reckon! I ain’t even got no ho-hum excuses of business meetin’s, ‘cause even d’at’s been slower d’an DaveCam processin’ insults on a good day. I just been lazy as hell, and I ain’t even a giant shaven bear to count for it! [Snickering, she jumps -somewhat elegantly, if elegance is to be measured by the amount of onlookers that mistake her for an epileptic lemur-upward to peck his cheek.] Ya’ got d’at end covered, yeah?

[janocju]

-He holds up his hands like a thief caught red-handed but one that still retained a cheeky defiance almost on par with Angelique's.- Okay, okay, you have well and truly caught me out here. You can guess how difficult it is to move and stir a great oaf such as I!

-Ivan stands back and feigns a hurt looking pout, curling his hands into fists and setting them squarely on his hips.- A giant shaven bear, really! I have heard no complaints about both size and lack of body hair. Well, even if I had copious amounts it would not suit me, I think. I would look like a... what is it? A yeti, mayhaps? An "abominable snowman" of some sort? Certain others make that matter of quilts of bodyhair, ah, work better for themselves.

[janocju]

Hello! Helloooooo?

Goodness, by the swirl of the clouds above and the serenity of the sky beyond this is an awfully dusty little thing.

No fear, it won’t have the dust for too long. Are we all well this fine eve? The news! Surely I’ve missed great things from my fellow nations and friends alike.

[latersonsonafrote-blog]

[In a manner somewhat akin to a stampeding elephant, there is a flurry of hair and swirling skirts to be seen before an unknown force crashes into his belly.]

Ivan Ivan Ivan Vanya, are ya’ tellin’ me ya’ come back all d’is time and ya’ ain’t gon’ come and get me first? Hell  naw, I know you got better manners d’an d’at. 

Where ya’ beeeen, boo?

[janocju]

-The wind rushes out of his lungs yet he still manages a good natured albeit breathless chuckle.- Good-- good god! Exuberance! I have missed you dearly too my friend. -He hugs her carefully, nestling his nose into the bountiful curls on her head.-

I must admit, this is a terrible, grave event that stands starkly against my usual manner like the silhouette of a sombre mountain against the brilliance of a sunset. While those may debate how my true personality might resemble, none can surely say my manners aren't picture perfect comparatively? At least, that is what I tell myself. I have kept well, although quiet. I am sure you are much the same yet markedly louder, yes? Please, do tell me how you've fared!

[janocju]

Hello! Helloooooo?

Goodness, by the swirl of the clouds above and the serenity of the sky beyond this is an awfully dusty little thing.

No fear, it won't have the dust for too long. Are we all well this fine eve? The news! Surely I've missed great things from my fellow nations and friends alike.

[metropolitanempress-blog]

No This Isn't A Toy @ latersonsonafrote

[goldeyehayastan-deactivated2015]

It was a bit annoying that Ivan was dismissive of the events that caused Angelique to have a small crater in her head that may or may not have been (in)directly caused by the single human in their presence, but that’s what Siran’d have to go with. She wasn’t keen on digging if he wasn’t; follow the nearest, biggest economic allied leader and all that jazz. The Armenian began whistling chirpily as she gathered the drinks for her guests, though she had to pause and make a strange grimace that was skewed with a bizarre smile as her body struggled to pick one reaction to that immensely awful pun. But it was also great in that weird ‘why’ way… well, there was the reason her face didn’t quite know what to do: so good it was so bad so it was good again. Or something.

“Dun think I got any sake in the cupboards sadly; doesn’t that stuff need to be heated slightly? Weird.”

Vodkas for her usual crew, two glasses of wine— one for herself and the newbie. Siran thought she was clever serving the girl something close to her remarkably red hair, but even Yeran rolled her amber eyes and made the vaguest attempt at a disappointed rumble at her master.

“Aaaah cram it y’walkin rug,” the old nation snipped, carting over glasses to her guests on a tray. Resuming a cheerful expression, she handed one out to each as appropriate “So, since we’re not gonna find out why Angelique’s gone a bit cuckoo with that hole in her head, might as well drink and be merry. Though, instincts tell me I need to learn all about this pretty stranger in the house.”

As subtle as a shovel to the face, she flashed a broad grin over at Mitsuru, winking and raising her glass, before glancing at Ivan and Angelique in turn.

[janocju]

“Thank you, Siran.” Ivan nodded once, opting for the larger glass of vodka with a tiny smile. “But please, do not scare off poor Mitsuru! I dare say she’s only just acclimatised to our collective personalities without your flirting adding onto it all.”

That said, it was pretty hard to stifle a merry laugh at Angelique’s string of jokes, however. “Asian rubbish? Hips of Fury! She’s as Russian as she is Japanese, and let us not forget her hearty French heritage too. Truly a cosmopolitan genetic cocktail, a rare ruby Kiku has been hiding from all of us.”

He smiled earnestly at the heiress; Ivan loved all of his people, even those that only had some hereditary claim to hailing from his land, and Mitsuru was no different. That's why, even if the two women were simply joking around with her, he still felt some degree of responsibility for her enough to step in and gently stave off their teasing.

"Siran's wine is almost second to none," he hummed, sipping large mouthfuls of vodka. Amid the burn of alcohol in his neck that he had long built a near-immunity to the flare of heat, the Russian threw a knowing glance in the Armenian's direction, as if expecting her to react to the 'almost' part. "If you're a wine connoisseur, her bottles are surely among those you should add to the cellar. It is vast, I'm guessing, for one busy and wealthy young woman as yourself!"

[thefifthredcross-blog]

Doru? Sofiya? Swimsuits?

I picked a good time to come back.

[janocju]

Hello Ms Kvaratskhelia! A shame your ballad did not better mine.

[thefifthredcross-blog]

I spoke far too fucking soon.

[janocju]

I will simply shift back into the shadows then, for your convenience.

Will that solve your quick mood change?

[thefifthredcross-blog]

Doru? Sofiya? Swimsuits?

I picked a good time to come back.

[janocju]

Hello Ms Kvaratskhelia! A shame your ballad did not better mine.

[janocju]

[He laughs heartily, patting Anton’s back.]

She gives no ‘flying fucks’ but interstellar ones, it seems! Nonetheless, it was difficult to watch what was going on. I found myself blinking rapidly as I was watching and listening to Igranka. Poor Herakles, he must’ve had to deal with another wave of economic jokes at his expense…

[pravdopodobie-blog]

As bright as it was, it was incredibly catchy! { Grins } I ended up listening to the studio version of the song once the first round of semis had finished, after the confusion ended!

It did not take me long to enjoy it, yet from the ‘safe’ song before, it was… incredibly jarring. A mood whiplash. Even worse when the Lithuanian entry came on stage!

Alcohol is free, but larger guitars are not. :^)

[janocju]

Jarring is an understatement, perhaps. Ah, Lithuania's song I found questionable quality-wise, I had much preferred their entry in 2010, fun and full of life! Alas, Europe chose what it chose.

[Ivan makes a vain attempt to stifle his chuckle.]

Now stop that Anton, what if he hears and berates us for joining in on these jokes?

We should perhaps ask ourselves what brought Doru to pick what he picked. I almost thought that was him on stage singing his heart out!

[janocju]

Daaaa, ljubaaav je svuuuudaaa~

Oh, do pardon. I’m in a grand old mood today. We had a good showing on Saturday, and well done to you Sigurd for just nudging Dina Garipova behind with Margaret Berger. Congratulations to Denmark are of course in order, and my sister did a very good job indeed too!

However, I cannot get Serbia’s entry out of my head, even if they failed to get to the final…

[pravdopodobie-blog]

I found myself most entertained by Montenegro’s entry! She certainly has hit the final point of, as some may say, “not giving a flying fuck”!

[janocju]

[He laughs heartily, patting Anton's back.]

She gives no 'flying fucks' but interstellar ones, it seems! Nonetheless, it was difficult to watch what was going on. I found myself blinking rapidly as I was watching and listening to Igranka. Poor Herakles, he must've had to deal with another wave of economic jokes at his expense...

[janocju]

Daaaa, ljubaaav je svuuuudaaa~

Oh, do pardon. I'm in a grand old mood today. We had a good showing on Saturday, and well done to you Sigurd for just nudging Dina Garipova behind with Margaret Berger. Congratulations to Denmark are of course in order, and my sister did a very good job indeed too!

However, I cannot get Serbia's entry out of my head, even if they failed to get to the final...

[metropolitanempress-blog]

No This Isn't A Toy @ latersonsonafrote

[metropolitanempress-blog]

Mitsuru had reached out for her as if to faintly offer some semblance of assistance. Some. But then the Seselwa already beat her to it by draping herself over the couch and the redhead had to wince, her mind already conjuring up an all too vivid image of her grey matter spilling out with the force she landed on the sofa. The lolling of her skull really didn’t help matters. Her stomach seemed to turn a little despite her experiences, not in the least bit helped by the idea that nations would’ve found this quite mild an injury. Aigis’ data had supplied some… horrific details from certain personifications that once lost limbs only to have them grow… back.

She shuddered and Angelique gracefully supplied a topic for her to divert her thinking process with. Maybe not so much on the lioness that was still looking at her with a look that veered from ‘Friend? Foe?’ to ‘Potential dinner?’ a little too regularly for her liking. As the heiress hovered around, unsure what to exactly do with herself in this situation, she scrunched up her face as she heard the drinks suggestions from the Seselwa.

“I hope you’re merely recommending juice to me as a non-alcoholic alternative,” Mitsuru grumbled, having some feeling it was the nation’s way of saying she’s a little bit of a kid compared to these immortal entities. “I can actually handle a drink, you know,” was the addition, albeit a little quieter than her initial statement.

[janocju]

"Siran, you know me well enough to know what I would prefer to imbibe!" Ivan laughed merrily, shaking his head and tossing his platinum blonde hair to and fro. He pat the lioness Yeran gently on her large head, as he stepped towards Angelique "Easy, proud queen."

To the Seselwa herself he tenderly examined her head, having spotted Mitsuru half-heartedly attempt something to that effect, and frowned over it "You are healing well my dear. I suppose the reason for the wound will be lost to me, since you aren't in any danger."

He gently tapped her nose and winked "And suggesting juice for Mitsuru? Please, Angelique... one of her grandparents called my land home! There will be no need for simple fruit juice, she can handle the harder stuff just fine, I believe."

Hopping back theatrically, he gestured towards Mitsuru dramatically, extending his arms towards her "Look! She is built almost like she is of full Russian heritage, sturdy and hard to fell be it by violence or by alcohol. I would almost assign her a passport simply on that alone. What do you think?"

The giant of a personification seemed to reconsider momentarily, tapping his chin in thought. "Although... I may need to deduct marks for squeamishness, but that is probably because of the other genetics filtering in."

[janocju]

With a hop-skip and a flourish!

I have arrived once more.

I'm expecting about 85% of you all to greet me with a sneer, of course, but that is to be expected, after all!

[metropolitanempress-blog]

No This Isn't A Toy @ latersonsonafrote

[metropolitanempress-blog]

She was going to very irritably snap at Angelique until Ivan effectively immobilised her with that look that she only really remembered Takeharu Kirijo giving her and suddenly Mitsuru felt incredibly vulnerable. And then when he took her hand with those giant paws Artemisia suddenly went turncoat and pleaded for Mitsuru to go along. Great, the only cognitively functioning bit of the heiress managed, even the Persona thinks its a good idea.

Especially considering Angelique wouldn’t stop calling Artemisia ‘Elton John’, which was both irritating and baffling. She didn’t even look like him, but it seemed to have gone completely over Artemisia since this Russian felt so reassuring as if he was Winter manifest.

“I… suppose there’s very little I can do or say to evade this, especially considering it is indeed en route,” she acquiesced, lowering her head a little “I’ll make the preparations.”

Mitsuru looked between both nations and became sheepish “Just promise not to let Siran bother me. I mean, I’m sure she’s nice but to me she’s just been… belligerent.”

[latersonsonafrote-blog]

Still blinking rather rapidly, Angelique managed a small nod as she simpered over her sippy-cup. “Yeh, d’eh’s really no sens’ in tryna’ geh’ outta d’is,” she responded wisely, her fingers tightening their admittedly fragile grip around the base of the plastic utensil. “Ah’ juss’ bitch ‘n moan ‘til ya’ ac….acqu…” and she furrowed her brows, her tongue fumbling over the relatively mundane word. “Agreed,” she managed finally.

This brain-addled state was fast becoming incredibly inconvenient, and she found herself wishing, despite her fascination with the experiment, that this whole situation would pass at a noticeably quicker pace- if only so she could recover her wit, which seemed dormant at best and woebegone at least.

(Wit was all a girl like her had, at times. It was unsettling to watch it pass.) Still, she managed another sip of her vodka, the burn sloshing like acid against her throat and shooting yet another stab of reality through her senses. This time, her brain allowed her a realistic grin, and she leaned backwards in Mittens’ general direction to wink.

“Oh, we won’ let ‘er bodd’a ya’ too bad, will we, Vanya?” She slowly turned her head in Ivan’s direction, now, fluttering her eyelashes in a sort of ironic and teasing spasm. “D’we seem like d’a kind? Bonjeh.”

Still giggling, she returned to her vodka. “‘S anfay, zoli- she’ nah’ so bah’ when I’m d’eh’ to balance her out. Sorta. I d’in’.”

[janocju]

"Even if you are quite soundly incapacitated, we're more than enough to hold dear old Siran back should she act a little too forward or too aggressive." Ivan smiled and nodded, gently patting Angelique's shin and peering through half closed eyes at Mitsuru "Whichever mood she may be in, of course. She is subdued at times, but you would have to be around her for a while to see such a seldom moment."

For a brief second he wrinkled his nose, not exactly happy to even glorify the idea of the moody Armenian in his mind when he vastly preferred the chirpy, sassy and oft hilarious Armenian instead.

"We might need a slightly low key means of transport for actually getting to the airport, mind. If you can't manage this," the Russian paused, flickering over a big smile that spoke volumes of 'of course you can, but in the tiny unlikely situation that you cannot, I will support you', "we've got alternate options, so we are covered!"

He cast a glance over Angelique, pondering deeply "We'll need to be careful moving you, though the flight will most assuredly be smooth. That is the beauty of private jets, yes? The Kirijo are wealthy indeed."

Even if Ivan liked Mitsuru, it was hard not to get a tiny dig at her-- the gentle kind that might prelude a fierce tickling in a more familial setting, and his grin was playful enough to imply such a thing would ensue.

[janocju]

.

[gazophylacium]

Russian Costume 1

http://www.flickr.com/photos/28493949@N02/sets/72157608734769859/with/3021390525/

[metropolitanempress-blog]

No This Isn't A Toy @ latersonsonafrote

[metropolitanempress-blog]

“Is vodka a good idea in her state…? I mean… perhaps on the wound as an antiseptic but even then,” Mitsuru muttered, trailing off and debating over whether she should check the lolling Seselwa’s wound over again. Ivan was right though, she did do an awful lot considering she had absolutely no idea how to treat a… personification with a headwound that’d be fatal on anyone else.

She shook her head, smiling weakly up at the bear-like personification “Oh— um, it’s a very kind offer, I’ll be honest. I might have to decline for the moment, though. I— er— Siran is someone I have met previously and I find her… extraordinarily overbearing and a little intimidating.” It wasn’t a lie, Siran was absolutely terrifying even in small doses. Going to her house was a step up from that which Mitsuru didn’t think she wanted to make.

“I could ferry you over, but… hmm, I’d need to stop over a little if I want to take a flight back to Japan and not be bowled over by jetlag.”

Artemisia’s voice was alarmingly meek, stating that she was probably not going to be escaping a night with not one, not even two but three personifications of very different nations. Better make the will now in case.

[latersonsonafrote-blog]

Were Angelique to be in any sort of state to roll her eyes, she most certainly would have, but in effect settled for flashing Mittens a sort of hazily distressed glance. “Vohkuh is aways a goo’ idea, zahl,” she muttered, cradling her cup of hard liquor, as one with a lingering and intense head wound always ought. It was the Japanese in her, she decided, or the French- perhaps Ivan ought have offered wine, or sake. (And that was an idea, she realised, grinning inwardly; Japan’s birthday had only recently come and gone, had it not, and sake a la sippy cup was a brilliant idea.)

Sipping contentedly, her ears pricked at the mention of Siran, and she turned her attention to Mittens once more. “Ooooh, ya oug’ come. She know…” and she blinked, her head still muddling her thoughts, “she s’rrounde’ by bitchez n hows, may’ee she ca’ hell wit’ ya Ellon John pro’lem.”

Even she wasn’t entirely certain as to what she was talking about, and she instead began poking the sides of her makeshift vodka bottle, debating as to whether she could sneak one into meetings with none the wiser. Time time managing an impressive gulp, she sighed in both despondence and appreciation of the sensation of liquor floating between her temples. “Ya com’ on ovuh, take it easy. May’ee ya needa go all dra’ quee’ on ya’ head, so’s ya can chill wit’ d’a hheh’ lion on d’a prowl,” she added, pondering the concept of Siran meeting Sir Ian Mckellan’s weird younger brother and deciding she liked the idea.

“Vanyaaaaaa, teh’ her she oughta cooooooome.”

[janocju]

"I am doing my best, my dear," Ivan replied, hands clasped like he was trying to gently reason with a child. Well he had a master stroke, since Mitsuru already mentioned that she could fly them over since Armenia is in the general direction from France to Japan. Her fumbling that would seal that!

With a flourish, Ivan took Mitsuru's hand and looked at her the way a father might at his child if about to announce some wonderful news about what may have been a previously cancelled party. His smile was ever-present and radiant on his face, peeping over the scarf slightly "Why not stay with us then? You can rest in Yerevan. I will shield you from the brunt of Siran's antics, because she can get quite excited when a very pretty woman is in the vicinity."

His latter sentence was accompanied by an appropriate roll of his eyes. Head lion on the prowl, a good label for the old, rowdy woman who couldn't give a single care. Though as much as Angelique's statement made sense there, what the hell was she talking about with drag queens? How terrifying, the discrepancy in sense-making.

"Please, it would be wonderful to have you with us."

[chansondevictoire]

janocju s'est abonné à votre blog

[chansondevictoire]

Well, but it would be nothing to me, you know. I like baking~. I could make an entiiiire cake, and you could eat it all on your own.

Or share it.

I mean, it really matters little to me. The point is, dear Russie, I do not mind making you something nice at all~.

[janocju]

...Hmm! If you are sure, and willing to do so, I'd like to share the spoils of the baking with you too.

*nods, pulling the scarf back up* If you have the time, also. It's no good if you're in a rush, but I presume... you are not. So, shall we?