Natalya Arlovskaya
Monster Bait
Offline.
Каханне гэта востры нож. Love is a sharp knife. Cuts rather deep, doesn't it?
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Post by Belarus on Jan 13, 2014 15:27:04 GMT -6
She loved these kinds of places. If it weren't for the rest of the Manor, Belarus really would not have minded staying a whiles here. The Manor itself would be livable, the sort of secluded abode she would have wanted to share with a loved one. The ballroom in particular, though... now this was something that brought back the memories. She has had her fair share of waltzes and dances in those happier times. Those times when her brother's smiles were unconditional, when her sister did not have to sew her own clothes. But who was she kidding? How often were those happier times? She would remember many a times, watching from a distance as her brother would twirl one of the Grand Duchesses.
Ahhh, but she did have her own chance once, once long ago. A chance to be held in the arms of someone considered powerful, strong, bold. A prince in his own right, in a principality that no longer existed. A time when she spoke her own tongue, a time when there was a chance, a hope, and obsession had not taken over. A chance she had lost.
The ballroom was empty, devoid of any revelry, dramatics, or happiness. The curtains were drawn back, the moon high in the sky, just as alone as she was. She walked towards the window, diving into the moonlight. It was serene, looking up at the sky. Even in the dead darkness of the night, the moon shown brightly, soft and pure. The stars were a clear band, stretching across the sky, countless and infinite. The sky, changing and unchanging throughout the ages. She would have killed to have a peaceful night and lie under the stars, dreaming for eternity with her brother at her side.
What silly thoughts. If she wanted a night like that, she would have to dare to go outside. To fall asleep in the grass, she would risk becoming sick from the cold or being bothered by whatever demon spawn happened to be lurking in the trees. She wasn't too fond of the idea of resting easy outside.
She walked slowly, in the way that the ladies entered the ballroom in the days of before. With the four-four time signature step, her hand clutching an imaginary hand.
Announcing the Great Lord Russia and his sister, the Fair Lady Belarus.
If only, if only, if only...
"Come dance with me brother," she said."We can dance the night away, you and me. You can lead, I'll follow you, though you might have to excuse how rusty my dancing might be. Haven't danced since 1919!"
She laughed as she pretended to be twirled, going through the motions. One - two - three - turn. One - two - three - turn. One - two - three - turn.
She sighed, putting her hand down and straightening the wedding dress. If she ever wanted to dance again, she would have to get out alive.
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Ivan Braginsky
Stands a Chance
Homosexual. Biromantic..
Lonesome.
23.
Played by Jen.
Offline.
“Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.”
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Post by Russia on Jan 24, 2014 12:58:28 GMT -6
Even on the first floor of the Manor, each of the corridors felt like a labyrinth - and it was hard to tell whether one lead you further away from or closer to wherever you felt you needed to be. It wasn't hard to admit that, despite something like that, the Russian nation found the place in its entirety to be lovely - or at least, he would if it were well-lit and teeming with people who were all still alive. Its decor and the way which the furniture, walls and everything else looked reminded him of old buildings in the time of the Empire. Of course, the Manor was rather unsightly now that the flood had done its damage (as well as the fact that it was rather cold now), but all of that didn't stop the man from wanting to continue wandering. Hope carried him through to each room, onto each floor. Everyone had to be around somewhere - surely no one had decided to leave him behind just yet.
He wanted to find a bedroom or a fireplace, anything that offered something warm - but if anything was enticing him right now, it was the sound of very faint music coming from one end of the corridors. Was it really playing, or had he just been imagining it? In his state of mind, he neither cared nor knew for sure. It felt real to him, vague and nostalgic, and he wanted to follow it.
Its quiet volume didn't seem to change even as he neared closer to the ballroom. It was almost as if something had purposely drawn Ivan in that direction - though he didn't quite think of that. In fact, what he saw within the room was enough to clear all other thoughts of his. The music was immediately forgotten, disappearing from his conscience all at once. The room was spacious and beautiful - more beautiful than the rest of the Manor. Surely he had encountered it at least once before, but this was the first time he had seen it occupied by another person. There was no way he could miss the figure that was moving to and fro over the wooden floorboards.
"...though you might have to excuse how rusty my dancing might be. Haven't danced since 1919!" were the words he caught, spoken in a tone of voice he wasn't used to hearing from his sister. Ivan's breath caught and he stood frozen in the entrance to the ballroom, most likely out of Natalya's sight. He noticed the elegance of the white gown she was wearing, and the fact that it was a wedding dress would have unnerved him if it weren't for hearing her laugh. He had spent hours, days - he couldn't even tell anymore - in the Manor looking around for his sisters. Having finally found one of them, he didn't see her in a broken state, injured or bleeding or caught in the trap of a monster, no... he had definitely just heard her laugh. It was strange, yes, but it was more than Ivan could ever ask for.
This certainly brought back a rush of warm memories from the year that she had mentioned. Times of dancing and elegant balls being held past midnight each week. Had his dancing gone rusty as well? That didn't matter - there was something he had to find out first. He had to be sure that this was real. Hopefully nothing was playing a trick on him, like that music he just heard.
That warmth and that sense of hope followed him like a heavy weight on his shoulders. There was a knot in his throat as he hurried forward, right when Natalya had stopped her dancing. So that he wouldn't startle her in case she didn't see him coming, he made sure to speak first before reaching out for her. "Sestra? I-I am right here.." he spoke, his voice laden with the emotion he felt to see that his sister was still alive and well. Of course, she knew how to protect herself. He wouldn't want to think otherwise.
His hand reached out to touch the woman's shoulder - she felt real and that was enough to realize this wasn't a trick. Usually Ivan was so hesitant around his sister, but this once he couldn't help bringing himself to embrace her. There was a smile of utmost relief on his face. "Slava bogu, I fount you."
We are going to get out of here alive, both of us. Then we can dance whenever we want as if this all never happened.
(Slava bogu = thank god)
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Natalya Arlovskaya
Monster Bait
Offline.
Каханне гэта востры нож. Love is a sharp knife. Cuts rather deep, doesn't it?
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Post by Belarus on Mar 12, 2014 11:22:59 GMT -6
The very act of laughing was something that she had forgotten how to do. Who was to think she would be able to laugh in such a hopeless place? But in such a hopeless place, a bit of humor was required to keep sanity. She wasn't so sure that she had kept it even outside the Manor, but who was she to prove wrong? Only God could answer to that.
She so longed for those days. Truly. Those were the days when she was taken back from Poland, to be in her rightful place — beside her brother. It was a troubling time, but some moments were ones she kept with her. She remembered times when they had enough to eat, when both she and her sister were able to wear gowns almost as elegant as the Grand Duchesses. Her brother had an interest in styling himself as the Europeans did, and so they held the grandest of balls. The most wondrous music would play, the strings swayed with the dancers, clad in the most elegant finery they could find. She remembered shying in the corner. She was used to walking through dirty fields, not upon shining marble. Sometimes, if she was fortunate enough to get closer to her brother (who often had many people to dance with, in any case), he would take her hand and urge her into a spin. There was a time when he even dared to compliment her.
But that was before I realized my desperation to be with him forever.
Her brother always had a certain loneliness. It was seen in how he sometimes vied to be seen as part of Europe, to be accepted as one of them, to step outside of his isolation. No one shared in his cold, eternal winters. No one noticed the emptiness in his heart... but his sisters.
I won't leave you, I promise.
But she was alone as well.
"Sestra? I-I am right here.."
The sweet, syrupy sound of his voice startled her, for certain. She couldn't be imagining this, now could she? This couldn't be all in her mind. Maybe it could be like in those stories he used to tell her. The prince could rescue the princess and take her far away, take her to a sunnier, happier place where they could live happily ever after. Sans the fact that the princess could protect herself just fine.
"B-brother?"
Damn the stuttering. Don't stutter, don't stutter, don't stutter.
"Is..."
She felt a warm hand touch her shoulder gently, a warm, real hand. With warm, real blood flowing through the veins and arteries. The warmth of life, much warmer than the rest of the Manor. A sensation that made her own blood flow to her shoulder. A warmth she craved, despite her accustomation to the cold.
She was enveloped by that warmth, that sweet warmth filled with strength. Enveloped in his embrace.
"Slava bogu, I fount you."
"It's really you, brother. It's really you," she said, holding back tears, her voice filled with disbelief. "I... It's really you!"
She threw her arms around her brother. He wasn't dead. And so was she.
"We can find sestra and get out of here. Together." she said, barely able to fathom her words into sentences.
And I do hope we can dance together again in a ballroom much nicer.
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Ivan Braginsky
Stands a Chance
Homosexual. Biromantic..
Lonesome.
23.
Played by Jen.
Offline.
“Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.”
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Post by Russia on Apr 13, 2014 11:08:14 GMT -6
Emotion that Ivan usually would not experience in this situation swirled in his chest. The warmth he felt long ago in the presence of his sisters was returning at an unlikely place, a dark place where terror reigned and lives fell and siblings and family were sorely reunited.
The stutter he heard from Natalya struck his heart, just as he was undergoing a mirrored revelation in his sister's authenticity. The body he embraced did not disintegrate or disappear from his arms as a ghost would. It stayed there, and he held on. She felt his embrace and he felt hers - and whether or not it would run out soon, the two of them had found pure luck. The smallness of his sister's voice, dressed with her disbelief and her joy to see him, still had Ivan remembering times from long ago. He hadn't thought of Natalya as a picture of young innocence and gentleness since they were little, and they hadn't been reunited like this since their frequent separations as growing nations.
"It's really you!" the woman said, repeating herself more than once. The sound released from Ivan's throat was much like choked laughter, as if to further reassure her that he was real - all while he was trying to keep his emotions stable and together. He always knew to keep himself composed around his sisters, so that they knew they had someone to look up to while things were falling apart around them. "We can find sestra and get out of here. Together."
In their close proximity, it would have been difficult to view the Russian's expression from where he stood. His shoulders and head leaned back, gentle enough that he could see the woman's face while ensuring he wouldn't break away from her possessive embrace. Given their experience, he was already assuming that Natalya would not wish to let go of him so soon. If it meant they had hope of escaping separation by any means, he didn't mind at all.
Ukraine's abnormal absence was the only missing piece of the puzzle. He didn't want to think much of it, but his and Belarus's being together meant that the elder sister was somewhere else in the Manor, fending for herself and more than likely looking for her two missing siblings - that in its entirety held a weight down on Ivan's hopefulness, but he knew better than to lose the grip on his optimism. As per usual, he would address the Manor as if it were only a weak obstacle standing in the way of their happiness. "I haff not seen her since I went outsite," he spoke, treating Natalya with that same smile. "Bot we will fint her again. She is walkink arount as healthy as can be, I bet, followink her big sister senses. Maybe she will ent op here like we both dit, enjoyink this b-beautiful ballroom." It was childish of him to speak that way, yes, but he knew it worked when they were younger. It still made him feel better to think that way.
His arms loosened from their embrace, his hands brushing lightly against one of the ribbons on Natalya's costume. A bridal dress was a little unsettling over all, but the elegance of the ballroom provided a lovely backdrop to Natalya's image. He swallowed to steady his voice before using it again. "So we coult go look now, onless you want to wait here? It might be safe to stay in one place for a while. You seemt to be enjoyink yourself in here."
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Natalya Arlovskaya
Monster Bait
Offline.
Каханне гэта востры нож. Love is a sharp knife. Cuts rather deep, doesn't it?
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Post by Belarus on Jul 10, 2014 17:38:46 GMT -6
Warmth.Was that what she felt? Warmth? How long has she felt cold? How was she to define warmth, if it was something she had forgotten?
But here was warmth. And here was a mission she would set for herself to hold onto that warmth.
"I haff not seen her since I went outsite. Bot we will fint her again. She is walkink arount as healthy as can be, I bet, followink her big sister senses. Maybe she will ent op here like we both dit, enjoyink this b-beautiful ballroom."
Despite her qualms when it came to her sister, she had to admit, Ukraine was a nation with much spirit. She was a nation with guts and wasn't the weak, squishy thing that many made her out to be. Though not outwardly the most emotionally strong, Natalya had to admit, her sister was emotionally strong in her own ways. She didn't bottle up her emotions like Natalya did, didn't become this cold... machine of survival. But whatever worked for her. Natalya gripped onto her brother a little bit tighter with that thought. She wasn't going to easily give up her brother to her big sister, now was she? Big sister was a familiarity, but Natalya held onto her jealousies pretty well. Of course, to her disappointment, her brother's embrace loosened. She forced herself, in a rather stiff manner, to let go. It was no use to strike fear into someone you wanted to stay allies with, after all. Especially big brother... to have him leave her here would be the worst thought.
"So we coult go look now, onless you want to wait here? It might be safe to stay in one place for a while. You seemt to be enjoyink yourself in here."
Enjoying ones self in this Manor? Now wasn't that a nice thought.
"Enjoying? Zhat would be a misnomer, don't you dink?" she said, brushing her gown with a touch of self-consciousness. Hopefully she hadn't made too much of a mess with the gown. "It is a really nice ballroom, I admit... Zhough not as beautiful as your Winter Palace, brother! It makes me wonder how zhis place was before... zhis demented stuff happened. Do you suppose zhat zhey had lovely balls here as well?"
She did have a bit of a taste for those sorts of things, even with the hardiness in her hands and the fact that her people had always been labelled peasants and back country people when it came to her time in the Empire. Perhaps she took after one of France's or Germany's fairytales, but she did sometimes dream, and what a foolish idealistic dream it is, really, that she would be as one of the Archduchesses. To be a Cinderella or Aschenputtel, to be granted a night as the main attraction. To turn all their heads and run away at midnight, in hopes that she would be whisked away come morning. Perhaps even watch as one of those "stepsisters" did painful things to fit their bloody fat feet into the slipper. Much too idealistic, really.
"I'll stay with you, brother. Maybe sestra will come through here. Or one of zhose idiots that used to live with us."
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Ivan Braginsky
Stands a Chance
Homosexual. Biromantic..
Lonesome.
23.
Played by Jen.
Offline.
“Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.”
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Post by Russia on Aug 2, 2014 8:42:22 GMT -6
"Ah... forgiff me." Those words were intoned with a hesitant smile, as he realized that enjoyment wasn't a term well received by those currently stuck in the manor. Usually he wouldn't be so careful, but his sisters were two of the last people Ivan would want to make upset in any way. Ivan's eyes lowered, gentle violet watching as Natalya's hands ran over her dress. It was an elegant white, standing out as it did among all this darkness. A living treasure in this old and dead ballroom. Weddings were just as lively and beautiful as any ball - he would yearn for both, if only to get himself and his sisters out of this place. He mentally corrected himself for having found Natalya's gown unsettling at all.
Ivan's mouth twitched into a wider yet forlorn smile, hearing his younger sister mention the old monarch residence. "I shame them for lettink this place go to waste, da? Off course this room hat to be put to use. It coult not be jost for show. I wonder whether their gowns ant outifts were nearly as elegant as the ones we always saw." The question that Natalya brought up was no different from the thoughts which floated through the Russian's head earlier - each time he'd stumble upon a new room, he'd imagine how it might appeal to his senses long ago. The sights and the sounds, the lights and merriment - he was content with his own palaces, yes, but he couldn't help wondering what the Baudeau Manor used to be like.
"I'll stay with you, brother. Maybe sestra will come through here. Or one of zhose idiots that used to live with us." Ivan faltered, but his smile did not give up - and it was only natural that it didn't. A persistent force through all distress and trauma. Natalya's mentioning - albeit none too gently - his past satellites pressed a heavier weight down on Ivan's shoulders. He found himself appreciating that thought nonetheless, imagining such a reunion between himself, his sisters and those three - others might think the Baltics were meaningless to the Russian, but they were still faces which he would be more than delighted to see in good health. The manor was not privileged to harm them or his sisters.
"W-well, by 'enjoyink', I meant to say... whatever happiness we can manage in this place. The ballroom brinks back better memories, does it not? Even the little thinks are nice. I do not see why we shoult leaff so soon, so I will not mint you stayink with me. A-ant I know you are not in fittink gown, ant neither am I, bot..."
If there was any situation that deserved such optimism and beneficial thoughts, it was the time that he spent with his family. Who knew whether something might wish to stroll in and tear them apart? Ivan didn't dare to suggest something like that, but it was still a plausible thought. In an attempt to savor this little reunion they were having, even if it was without Ukraine, Ivan expressed an idea which might take their minds off of heavier troubles. "Maybe we coult haff our own little dance. Like times before."
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