Chapter Two: Magic, Spells, and Curses, Oh My! (Part One)
With another tug at his scarf, Ivan buried his face even deeper into the warm, creamy material and tightened the grip on his lead pipe as he walked down the rainy streets of London. Ordinary humans walked back and forth as they tried to reach their jobs, completely ignoring the Russian man. On another occasion, Ivan would have simply gone to a park and sat down on a park bench-regardless of rain or shine-to watch the Brits go on about their daily lives. But England was hosting the world meeting this day, and trying the foul-tempered, spiky-haired Englishman's short temper was simply out of the question. Besides, he was already running late; his unfortunate 'encounter' with Belarus had put him behind schedule.
Belarus. Just thinking about the slim, porcelain doll of insanity that was his little sister made Russia shudder in fear. When both he and Belarus had been little, Sofia (Ukraine), their older sister, had managed to raise them and keep them relatively safe despite the constant threat of invaders and the bone-numbing cold where they lived. But one day, men from faraway places came and declared them to be independent, leaving Ivan heartbroken and scared beyond relief. They were forcefully seperated, and Sofia and Ivan only watched in numb horror as their new bosses took them away; however, neither of them could match their littlest sister's pain at the thought of being seperated. Natalya had kicked, screamed, cried, and resisted the seperation as best as she could, but in the end, it still wasn't enough. The three Kievan siblings were forced to grow up-and in Russia's case, fight nonstop with other nations until his mind nearly cracked under the heavy strain of violence his boss, the Tatar, made him indulge in-and fend for themselves, without the comfort of being a family unit. When his boss was finally replaced, Ivan was relieved and tried to get his family to return to him. But Ukraine's and Belarus' bosses would have none of it, and he was once again forced to fend for himself.
The turning point had come when the last Tsar of Russia, Nicholas II, was disposed of and the Bolshevik leader Lenin took his place. His new leader managed to unite all the people of Russia under his rule and under a new government. Thanks to him, Ivan had finally been able to reunite with his sisters after decades of separation. But time and war had changed the Russian man; his mentality had finally cracked. So as soon as Lenin died, Stalin took his place and a new era began-The Reign of Terror.
Under his leadership, Russia rose and tortured, slaughtered, and scared his people into submission. In his bout of insanity, he ended up hurting his sisters, the people he had once pined and cared for. When he finally came to, he saw the destruction he had caused and the pain in both Sofia's and Natalya's eyes as they constantly cowered in a corner of the house they and a few other nations shared. Ivan would never be able to forget the looks of horror etched on both faces, especially the one on Natalya. After a while, Ukraine fled from his house and managed to declare independence from his iron-fisted rule, whilst Belarus left to live with the capitalist swine Amerika. Eventually she returned, but she was no longer the same person he had known. Something had cracked in his little sister's mind that day, just like it did in his, and he knew it was all his fault.
A sudden drop of rain fell on his nose and Russia looked up at the sky. The clouds were still hovering lazily in the sky, dark and depressing, but the light drizzle from earlier was slowly gaining strength, turning into a full-out thunderstorm. A scowl twisted the normally childish features of Ivan. He never liked the rain, even though it was more tolerable than snow, but hearing the rumbling heavens made him remember his original purpose. He put on a burst of speed and resumed walking to England's house, mind still pondering the great paradox that was his sister.
The foul-tempered Brit's face was anything but pleased as Russia came into the conference room, dripping and forming puddles wherever he stepped. "About time you showed up, bloody git! I was just about to address to the others here about being tardy to these meetings when I'm the host, so you better have a damn good excuse for showing up late!" Arthur (England) fumed, thick eyebrows furrowed. Ivan smiled childishly and gave the island nation a pat on the head. "Pryvet to you as vell, my little friend! I apologize for incoveniance, but uh... family issues set me back." he replied cheerfully, pushing down extra hard on England's head at the word 'family'. Yao (China), who was already at the conference table, shuddered and hugged his panda tightly; he had caught on to the Russian's intended meaning. "I...I-I'm sorry to hear that, aru!" he squeaked. Waving his pipe back and forth, Russia grinned at the Asian nation and gave a slight 'ufu~'. "Is over. No big deal.".
Beside China, Francis (France) twirled his hair idly and flipped it in a snobbish manner. "Your petite sister is so strange, Russe. Why can't she act like a normal person for once, just like ze rest of us?" he quipped. Alfred (America) laughed and slurped his jumbo-sized cola. "Hey commie bastard, the gay dude here is right! Nat is totally in the nuthouse. Why don't you ship her off or somethin'? Or, ya know, get her to see a shrink. Maybe her screws are loose!" he cackled, taking another bite out of his equally large hamburger and earning himself a scowl from Francis, who cried out, "I am not gay!".
England frowned. "America, he's not a communist anymore."
The aforementioned country rolled his eyes. "Pfft, whatever."
Across from Alfred, the stoic and stern Ludwig (Germany) growled and cleared his throat in order to reestablish some order to the meeting. "America, zhis is no time to insult or demean zhe siblings of ozzer countries. Ve are here to resolve conflict, not start it!" he snapped, blue eyes narrowed. Unfortuntely for him, South Italy AKA Lovino (Romano) decided to backtalk the slowly-angering German, his own temper rising. "You stupido wurst lover, who said you were the director of this meeting? No one! Now shut up and let's get this over with, or mio stupido fratello is going to fall asleep and it'll be all your fault!" he snapped. Beside Romano, the aforementioned 'stupid fratello' North Italy AKA Feliciano (Veneziano) smiled in a dopey manner and looked at Germany. "Ve, Germany~ Can I have some pasta?" he asked. Kiku (Japan)-who was also sitting directly beside the German man-paled and sunk lower into his seat. He could already feel the tension in the room rising, and it wasn't pleasing him at all.
Back with with former Allies, America was frowning and pulling at France's clothes. "Whattya mean you're not gay? Dude Francis, you hit on anything that moves and has legs! And your clothes are all fruity! That must mean you're gay!" he reasoned. The Frenchman looked appalled. "Amerique, how can you say zhat about your big brother France? I am 'urt by your words! I merely love beauty, no matter what its appearance; gender is just a stumbling block in my opinion. After all, I am ze country of le'amour!" he replied, punctuating his last words with a creepy 'ohon hon hon hon~'. England growled and pointed an accusing finger at Alfred, tired of hearing both nations argue. "Both of you, shut up! I don't give a bloody care as to whether that...that frog is gay or straight, America! Now sit down, stop eating that atrocity you dare to call food, and pay attention! Bullocks!" he snapped.
Unfortunately, Francis was not pleased, and he scowled at Arthur. "Angleterre, don't shut me up! I am trying to clarify my sexual preferences to Amerique, and you're not 'elping! Imbecile!".
That was the last straw for England. With a look of pure rage etched on his face, the former pirate nation attacked the Frenchman and a fight broke out, leaving America to laugh even harder. "Dude, this is so going on Youtube!" he exclaimed, pulling out a camcorder from seemingly nowhere. Yao had to duck quickly to narrowly avoid one of England's fists impacting his face. "Aiyah! This is madness! Oh, how I wish Shinatty-chan were here right now..." the small man lamented, hugging the panda even closer to his body.
A tomato suddenly hit him in the face-exploding in a red, juicy, pulpy mess-and China looked up, irritated. "Hey! Which one of you threw that at me? Answer or you get a wok to face, aru!" he snapped. Diagonally across from China, Lovino was cursing up a storm and alternating between verbally assaulting the blonde blue-eyed nation and throwing tomatoes at him; as one would expect, Germany was not taking to it kindly. "Romano, stop throving tomatoes at me! You're only helping to spread chaos, dumpkoff! Gah, stop it!" he yelled. Romano's only response was to throw more tomatoes. "Che cazzo, go to Hell!"
Throughout all of this, Ivan only smiled and walked to his seat, the purple aura from earlier in the morning returning to hover around him. He had almost forgotten how fun these world conferences could be, with everyone getting rowdy and 'friendly'. He sat down in an empty seat and the smile on his face grew bigger when he realized it felt super soft. "This seat feels nice~" he commented to himself.
(Unbeknowest to Ivan, Matthew (Canada) was silently whimpering and trying to catch his breath, uttering a soft "Oh, maple...", as the larger nation crushed him with his weight. The polar bear in his arms (Kumajiro) looked up with a confused expression on its face and frowned.)
("Who are you?")
(A sigh. "I'm Canada.")
The full-blown chaos in the room continued to run rampant, with both the former Allies-bar Russia-and former Axis somehow arguing with each other (in actuality it being Romano running and shrieking in a 'manly' way as he tried to get away from France, and Feliciano crying as he tried to keep away from the 'scary-looking' England), until Ludwig had enough and bellowed, "ENOUGH! All of you, STOP ZHIS NONSENSE!". Immediately, all the fighting in the room stopped, and the others nations turned to face the enraged German. Only Italy, who was waving a white flag desperately, still cried out in fear. "AHHHHH! Germany! GERMANY! SAVE ME!" the Italian babbled. His older brother facepalmed and subsequently gave him a slap on the face, muttering something about "...idiota fratello...".
Once he was certain everyone was listening, the stoic and tough man shuffled the papers in front of him, azure eyes narrowed as if daring the others to say something to him. "Sehr gutt! Now listen up: Ve are here to resolve zhe conflicts our people have started against each ozzer und to forge alliances, compromises, und overall peace. But right now I am ashamed to even consider myself a nation; all of you are acting like a bunch of three year old kinder! Does any of you have anyzzing to say for yourself?" he snapped.
All of the personified countries flinched at the harsh words coming from the irate German's mouth and looked down to their own papes in shame. Even Lovino, who normally talked back in defiance, stayed silent, unnerved by the German nation's words. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence however, Arthur hesitantly raised his hand and cleared his throat. "If...If it helps, I believe this was all started by our friend Russia over there. If he hadn't arrived late to the meeting, we wouldn't be in this mess!" he spoke, pointing an accusing finger at Ivan. The Russian in question frowned and tugged on his lilac scarf while standing up (much to Canada's relief). "Comrade, is not my fault! My little sestra held me back and I couldn't do anything! Surely you must understand my situation, da?" he sputtered. Ludwig's head swiveled to look at him, the scowl still prominent on his square features. "Ja, I understand Ivan. Your kleiner schwester has caused you many problems in zhe past und I am truly sorry for that. However, zhis is a very important meeting, und tardiness, no matter vhat zhe excuse, is not acceptable." he replied.
Russia opened his mouth to say more, but Alfred cut him off. "Look commie bastard, you need to control your sis."
"Amerique, he's not communist."
"Whatever. Back to what I was saying, dudes. Ivan, you need to control Nat. She never acted mean with me when we lived together. Sure, she'd call me a capitalist pig and all that shizz, but Natalya at least knew who was boss in 'da house'. Maybe she needs to learn to respect you or something, bro. You dig?" he added, slurping his large drink at the end.
If it hadn't been for America's unusually mature words, Ivan would have already begun plotting the obnoxious nation's early demise. For the first time in his life, the Russian man was forced to concede the American's point. His little sister claimed she respected him, but with the creepy way she followed him around everywhere and the obsessive manner in which she demanded marriage, Ivan was pretty sure she didn't know what 'sibling respect' even meant. What made matters worse was the fact that he always hid from her presence, too scared to even fight back. Perhaps that was the reason Natalya always stalked him? Did she enjoy the feeling of power she gained from his fear? Or was it something else?
Either way, Russia just wanted her to be demurring and humble, just like his older sister Sofia. Now Ukraine was everything Belarus wasn't: kind, gentle, submissive, caring. If his little sister were more like that, even if she demanded marriage, the mighty Russian Federation would be more willing to grant her desires. Well, perhaps she wouldn't demand a union between them, but she'd definitely be more tolerable to be around.
An idea suddenly popped into Ivan's mind and he smiled again. Yes, a gentle Natalya was what he wanted. And he knew exactly who to ask for help. Russia looked at Alfred-reveling in the small shiver of fear the other man tried to supress-before giving a small nod and slamming his lead pipe on the table. "I agree, my capitalist comrade! Spasiba! Sorry for any trouble I have caused. Vill not happen again, da?" he cheerfully replied. Surprised by Ivan's reply, America slowly chewed the hamburger piece in his mouth before swallowing and laughing nervously. "Y-Yeah! See, the hero can resolve anything! Now, let's get back to the meeting guys!" he suggested.
The tension in the room immediately disappeared, and Kiku looked down at his report. Reading the atmosphere was really an important skill one had to have in handy, especially in times like this, where a misspoken word could cause problems; thank goodness he had such a skill. "...I am grad I did not say anything. Or this wourd have been Worrd War Two arr over again..." he mumbled. Feliciano ve'd softly and looked at his Japanese friend and former ally, dopey smile once again plastered on his face. "What was that Japan?".
"Oh! Uh, it was nothing, Itary-kun. Now prease pay attention to Engrand-san."
"Ohhh, okay Japan!"
