We're a literate Hetalia canonverse roleplay with a focus on working with roleplayers with busy schedules while also fulfulling that need for creativity! Check out the rules and plot to find out more about how we operate. Game of Empires explores history, relationships, and the various timelines of each personified nation. Feel free to ask any questions as you check us out!
03.10.19 - 03.20.19 Grand opening for Game of Empires will be in the middle of March, hopefully while the majority of you are having your Spring Break if you're lucky enough to have one. Welcome!
Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Mar 13, 2019 14:38:38 GMT
Ivan had entered through the backdoor and slowly traversed the home with a collective ease. His gloved hands remained folded behind his back as he glanced at the walls, taking in the few new photographs he had not seen. He made his way to Arthur’s office as if he belonged there, though he had not been within this home in a long time. He had not planned to come here, but a past assassination of an exiled Russian on British soil had not been as clean as he or his government would like. Thus, he had to fix it. His relationship with Arthur had been strained for some time now. It certainly did not help when Arthur’s boss made remarks about Ivan being most eminent threat to the UK. Nonetheless, he could not have Arthur making a muck of his other relationships in Europe. He got on the computer to delete a certain file and encrypt it with a virus, yet the time he originally expected to have with such an endeavor was cut short when he heard the front door open.
He would need to speak with his intelligence officers. They were certainly lacking in their efforts to secure accurate information. A nation’s schedule should be easy enough to receive.
He sighed to himself briefly before standing up and moving outside the office. He saw Arthur at the entrance, and instead of attempting to hide his presence, he walked towards him. He smiled and said innocently, “Privet, England. How are you this evening?” If the fact that Ivan was standing in his hall wasn't suspicious enough, Ivan was also wearing darker apparel. He had on a black turtleneck sweater that clung to his form, dark jeans, and a black hat to cover his bright silver like hair. He gave a small innocent wave.
Post by England - Arthur Kirkland on Mar 13, 2019 16:45:12 GMT
Arthur had purposefully not given a schedule to any of the officials that he worked with because today was one of those days that he didn’t want to be accountable to anyone; a semi day off where he could linger in the tea shop a bit longer than he normally did, turning the pages of an old paper book that he’d gotten at a discount right down the street. This one was an old romance, but he’d covered it with a leaflet as he read, not wanting any nosy strangers to see it. He didn’t like the idea of anyone seeing that he was being frivolous, because he most certainly didn’t like to read about his sort of thing at all. Today, he blended in with the people, wearing very causal clothes that weren’t at all typical of him. Jeans, a sweatshirt, and a jacket. Not expecting to do anything extraordinary.
As the hour had passed its mark, Arthur closed his book, tucked it under his shoulder and threw the leaflet away, burying his hands in his pockets as he started to walk home. Being relatively close to the border of London made everything within relative walking distance from the tube stops. Arthur had absolutely no clue to offer him that someone was already inside his home as he walked passed the gates and the tall-standing rose bushes to make his way past the front door. He dropped his keys on the entryway table. Arthur was about to make his way into his office before he stopped short, seeing Ivan standing right outside it in the hallway.
Arthur paused, irritation and surprise crossing his gaze. It was extremely strange seeing Ivan in his personal home. It had been many, many years since that had last happened. A part of him was both impressed and troubled that Ivan still seemed to remember the layout so well. Hearing Ivan's question and seeing his wave, he frowned. ”It was pleasant enough,” he decided to respond normally, quickly depositing his paper book in a large vase containing other decorative items, not wanting Ivan to see anything that he did in his free time. As odd as that might look, he passed it off as normal. He peeled off his jacket and hung that as well. ”You could’ve dressed normally. Looking like that makes you seem ridiculously suspicious to anyone that might’ve seen you.” Arthur’s eyes passed from Ivan to his office, giving him a blunted, meaningful look. He’d have to take care of his computer later, as well as checking to see if any documents were missing.
He didn’t bother to turn on any additional lights other than the few small table lamps that were on, casting shadows everywhere. Arthur made his way over to Ivan, drawing close, his arms folded softly, his posture straight and calm. ”I haven’t seen you in a long while, not like this,” Not where they could speak plainly without multitudes of other officials and perhaps even other nations in the room, their leaders having their nasty arguments. The corner of Arthur’s mouth curled up slightly, his gaze unbreaking from Ivan’s, even with the close proximity. Of course Ivan was unnerving, but that never stopped Arthur from standing straight and silently daring him with the closeness. Part of that was just Arthur’s nature. ”You poisoned me in addition to your informant,” he spoke quietly, sounding almost amused. ”I wondered if it was an act of passion, as you’re not typically that sloppy.” Arthur moved his hand slowly, not wanting to alarm Ivan, his fingers sliding gently along the side of Ivan’s hat to loosen it a bit, sliding what he could free so that he could catch a glimpse of his hair, a more recognizable sight. He would've pulled the hat entirely off if Ivan had let him. His touch wasn’t harsh, almost a caress, but he dropped his hand. ”So, what can I do for you? Anything in particular you’re looking for? He knew that he likely wouldn’t get a straight answer from him, but he still wanted to hear what he might say.
Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Mar 13, 2019 22:37:50 GMT
As he waited for Arthur to respond, Ivan thought he could hear the ticking of a clock somewhere in the house. The slow tick…tick…tick…made the moment of being caught, as that classic saying would have it, with his hand in the cookie jar uncomfortably long. His violet eyes briefly met his at first before wandering down to look at his incredibly causal appearance. He could not place a date on the last time he had seen Arthur in such casual wear. He continued to smile with his eventual response, as his eyes followed the strange deposit of paper into a vase. He wondered what other object might be hidden within the vase, or if it was merely a more elegant trash can. The West often did strange things that Ivan did not fully understand.
He quickly glanced down at his own appearance with the comment and brushed his own hands down his sweater with a smile before meeting his eyes again with the same smile. “Oh? It is normal dress from my understanding. Black compliments my eyes,” he said with ease, not missing a beat. He could see Arthur was moving towards him, so he decided to stay in his position and wait for the man to make his way down the hall. He did enjoy as Arthur came closer because as he did so, Ivan had to keep lowering and lowering his eye sight. It must be so unfortunate to be as short as Arthur. Ivan looked down at him, as Arthur seemed to posture in front of him. He had once found Arthur to be a credible threat. As the Great British Empire, the nation had conquered the world, yet as he looked down upon him now, he looked more like a lacky to America’s whims. Yes, he still had respect for Arthur. After all, Ivan was no fool. Even if Arthur lacked his prior strength, he was still incredibly smart and held vast influence in this world. He locked to his eyes as Arthur tried to attempt to trap him with his words. It was a fun game of wit that they could play, and admittedly, Arthur was right. It had been a long while, a long while since their words had danced together in an elaborate routine. His lip titled in the barest of smirks before returning to his simple smile. “I can’t say I am aware of what you speak of. Russians have many passions, but poison?” he clicked his tongue as if it were an absurd thought, “Poison is only useful with rats. I suppose if a poison has occurred, you must have a rat problem, da?”
He allowed Arthur to move his hat slightly, his long silver locks partially falling out with each movement. There had been a time in the past when Arthur would often do such caressing touches, but such time was far gone. He caught his wrist before Arthur could bring it down. “I am here to help, my old friend,” he said, keeping hold of his wrist. It was not threatening, but there was something about it that was challenging. “Your security system is quite outdated. Is it good I have broken in to show you such flaws,” he said with a smile, however, his words would start to feel distant as Arthur would fall into a time slip.
1712
Arthur would find himself on the outskirts of a large ballroom. Hundreds of people were inside, wearing fabulous dresses and elegant attire with fluffy frills and bright colors. Appetizers and desserts littered the long tables at the sides, as waiters walked around handing out champagne and vodka. The ballroom itself looked brand new, although old in style. The ceilings touched the sky and the large windows were traced with elegant curtains. Gold appeared to gently touch each element within the room, making it shine. It appeared as if the ballroom was part of a newly built palace. The people in the room spoke varying different languages, but the most prominent language heard was Russian.
Across the room, Ivan spoke with his boss. A genuine large smile pulled on his features as he nodded to his boss’s words. Ivan dressed as a nobleman. A bright light purple justaucorp that came down to his knees, with matching darker purple breeches, and a white shirt with golden vest. His hair was brushed back, and even from this distance, it was evident that Ivan was wearing a tad of make up which made his features more define, especially his eyes. As Ivan glanced around, he caught sight of Arthur, and he immediately looked shocked and then overjoyed at the unexpected visitor. He made his way through the crowd with ease until he reached the nation. He took hold of both of Arthur’s hands. “Arthur! It is so wonderful to see you here,” he said almost childishly happy before leaning in and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “I had thought you were in America?”
Post by England - Arthur Kirkland on Mar 14, 2019 0:07:21 GMT
It was a common enough occurrence for Arthur to get the reaction he did whenever he was standing before much taller nations, as the majority of nations in the world were taller than him. But he was long past the point of being offended or upset about that look that had become quite familiar throughout his existence. When he was a child, he simply glared up at whoever was his current tormentor in that time-frame, and very little had changed in the way that Arthur would always stare down anyone that either attempted to intimidate him or thought less of him. Actual amusement touched Arthur’s eyes this time when Ivan brought up the fact that there were rats in the vicinity. He was technically true on that, with the term ‘rats’ being used loosely. ”We do, actually. The majority of our rats seem to be Russian. They’re miserably drawn here; and we do end up finding them quite useful. That is, before you eventually dispose of them,” he murmured. A different kind of smug expression turning his lips. He did enjoy playing this game with Russia, similar to old times. The games were similar, but the rules had changed with modern technology along with modern obligations.
Arthur expected Ivan to either grab at him or twist at his wrist for touching him like that. The violence was absent from his touch, but Arthur could still feel the dare in it all the same. He didn’t move to release himself, simply looking back at him, the same challenge reflected in his eyes. However, just as quickly, he felt the sickeningly familiar slip as his body seemed to pull away from that moment, and the pressure against his wrist lessened.
. . .
His breath was deeper and his stance a little unsteady as he tried to regain his bearings, eyes immediately darting to all the shining details as he tried to gather information for where and when he might be. He was with Ivan just now, so he knew that he must be somewhere in Ivan’s timeline. The first thing Arthur could detect was the Russian being spoken around him. He also recognized the palace, an almost sluggish nostalgia tugging at his memory from previous events when he might've been here. It looked to be some kind of ball, perhaps a wedding celebration, evidenced by the extravagant decorations and colors. Arthur’s gaze next landed on Ivan as he moved over toward him, completely outfitted for the occasion in a way that he hadn’t seen him dress in a very long time. The obvious happiness in his expression also forced unexpected guilt to tighten in Arthur’s chest. It was obvious just how different this Russia was from the one he’d just been with.
He felt his hands being taken by Ivan’s and a brief press of his mouth against his. Arthur didn’t move, knowing that he probably looked very shocked to be here. ”I… “ He tried to speak, feeling a little stupid with how long it was taking him to formulate a thought. ”…I was delayed. The ship won’t be ready for another couple weeks. And I didn’t want to miss this.” He hoped that by saying that, he might get some hints as to what the occasion was, exactly. If he could get the occasion, then he could get a proper date. ”I didn’t have time to change… I got here so quickly.” That, at least, was the truth. And he hoped it would excuse the strange clothes he was wearing for this time. ”...You look very happy," Arthur commented quietly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Ivan look genuinely happy, with an actual smile. Nothing like the cold smiles Ivan was wearing just moments ago.
Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Mar 14, 2019 1:48:41 GMT
It was a joyous occasion to say the least. Moments such as these were often rare to Ivan, so when they occurred, he held tightly onto them. Yes, the war with Sweden continued, but he knew he would defeat the silent and cold man with time. For now, he would enjoy the current fruits of victory. In particular, his new capital, St. Petersburg. It would be the center of enlightenment and growth in Russia. He could sense it, and while his heart no longer beat, it felt a warmth he had not felt in centuries at the idea.
He was even more delighted to have Arthur here. He wrote to him a few months prior, hoping the man might attend his celebration. He had become quite fond of him, especially after he and his boss spent three months in England. His sharp tongue and charming attitude always caught his attention. He had known Arthur since the 16th Century, but it was not until recently since he felt himself becoming closer to the man. Prior he only heard of the Great British Empire, but Arthur had been on the other side of Europe and Ivan had been far too busy dealing with Poland, Lithuania, and Prussia to get into the affairs of Western Europe. Today, however, signaled a new day. He had become a world power, and thus, he had earned his rightful place on the world stage. He made certain to grow his influence, and as such, forming a close relationship with Arthur was nearly a necessity.
His excuse puzzled Ivan at first because the trek to St. Petersburg was no short trip, so he would have left weeks in advance by ship, or a month in advance by land, which left him confused how one ship could be ready and another not. Then again, Ivan never considered himself a seaman, so he did not waste his time pondering the logistics. Instead, he appreciated the fact that he was here. “I am quite happy,” he announced with a smile and gave his hand a squeeze, “You are here, and we are in celebration of my new capital.”
He then took in Arthur's appearance, and his brows furrowed together. “Da, it is interesting outfit,” he commented and let go of his hands. He bent down slightly to pinch and pull at the jean fabric. “I have never seen such fabric on pants. What type of cloth are you using?” he said as he continued to pry at them, having no sense of personal space, even putting his hands into his pockets, like a child curiously inspecting.
Post by England - Arthur Kirkland on Mar 14, 2019 5:13:14 GMT
Arthur saw the confusion on Ivan’s expression and he immediately felt a hint of heat touch his face, a little bit of perspiration at his collar. He knew that didn’t make sense, but he hoped that Ivan wasn’t going to question it further. It was probably better than saying something else that would’ve immediately sounded like an outright lie. Breathing came a little easier when Ivan seemed to dismiss the odd explanation and he felt the tightening over his hand again. ”St. Petersburg…” Arthur responded, now with a bit of a satisfied feeling, having a better idea of the time and remembering who he was during this time. From Arthur’s end, 1712 was the golden age of piracy where he was quite successful in his seedier adventures out at sea. Back then, he enjoyed mockingly calling himself a ‘gentlemen’s’ pirate because he would often swap out his sea attire into something much finer, playing at blending into society with these parties, charming who he wanted and chasing what he wanted, much like he did when he was wearing his pirating visage.
He was a bastard. Arthur would be the first to admit it. But he was also in a relationship with Ivan. He’d been a particularly interesting chase, and oftentimes enjoyed being particularly mischievous with him, doing things that were very ungentlemanly for that time. The Arthur from this era was also an avid letter-writer and would often detail long, charming ones in response to Ivan’s correspondence. Then again, that part of Arthur probably never changed; he still enjoyed writing and sending letters, as it sometimes felt more meaningful than an everyday phone call. Arthur flushed a little with the memory, distracted with recalling the details of this specific era before he felt a pinch at his jean trousers.
”What? Oh, this is… um…” His voice trailed a little, distracted from words again when Ivan outright stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. Arthur almost jumped, glancing to the side to make sure no one was watching. ”These are… working trousers… they’re quite durable.” God, Arthur felt stupid saying these things on the spot, but he didn’t know how else to respond.
The music and dancing and food now all made sense, however. This was definitely a celebration that he could imagine the Ivan from this time looking forward to. Arthur gently pulled one of Ivan’s hands from his trouser pockets, pressing a light kiss to the side of his hand, a hint of a smile, bordering on the playful. ”I’m glad you’re happy. It really is a lovely city.” A pity that he wasn’t actually here, in fact. Although, he was sure that past-him would’ve likely just created some mischief while the party continued, either in the form of drinking too much or otherwise pulling Ivan into something else entirely. ”Have you danced already? I assume that’d be more fun than stuffing your hands down my trousers. Unless that’s your intention.” Arthur chuckled with a bit of a grin, teasing in his tone.
Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Mar 14, 2019 15:11:07 GMT
Working trousers? Ivan certainly wanted a pair for himself. These trousers could be useful to his farmers and other workers. He would have to take these from Arthur to see how they were made. However, his train of thought was interrupted when Arthur took his hand and kissed it. He looked up at him, a blush touching his cheek. He quickly buried his chin in his scarf to partially cover the red. Arthur was quite charming, and it always caught Ivan off guard.
He stood up straighter and glanced at the dance floor. He loved to dance with the flow of the music, enjoying the elegant steps and precision. The blush deepened with the comment, realizing how it must appeared as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. He nonetheless tried to play it off as if he wasn’t red as a cherry and take advantage of an opportunity.
He leaned closer to him, and said softly against his ear, “I do often enjoy what I find in your pants.” He smirked teasingly and pulled back partially. “I would love to dance as well, but I think it will be best to put you in different attire, da? You have caught quite a few eyes.” He pointed out to Arthur as it did seem like many people were glancing at Arthur and whispering to one another.
Ivan did not wait for an agreement before he was grabbing his hand to guide him out of the ballroom.
Post by England - Arthur Kirkland on Mar 15, 2019 4:32:03 GMT
Arthur chuckled a little when he saw how red Ivan had gotten, though not unkindly. That part of Arthur perhaps hadn’t changed over the centuries, he did like to tease when he was in the mood for it. Of course, the gesture was returned when Ivan leaned in to whisper into his ear, and his own face had warmed over softly. ”You’re incorrigible,” Arthur muttered with a hint of a smirk. He certainly was no longer used to this kind of correspondence from him, as it had been an extraordinarily long while since the last between them. Of course, there was very little resemblance between this Ivan and the one he’d left behind in his hallway moments ago. But then again… the Arthur from this time was also quite different from the person he was today.
Hearing Ivan’s statement that he’d caught a few eyes made the warmth in his face intensify, and he glanced briefly to the side, to where Ivan had drawn the attention. A part of him wondered if some of these people might have simply recognized him from previous events, and wondered why he was wearing such strange clothing. Arthur made an amused sound. ”Very well, let’s get different clothes, he responded, even though it was pointless, since Ivan was already taking him to a different area, feeling his grip over his hand.
Arthur’s eyes trailed along the corridors as they continued, noticing various décor before his eyes rested on Ivan’s profile. All of this was very surreal, and from Arthur’s perspective, this was also all new memory. It was a novel experience compared to other time slips where he might've at least been in the area prior. ”Where are we heading to find clothes? It wouldn’t be your private chambers, now, would it? He joked quietly, curious over what part of the palace they’d end up in.
Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Mar 16, 2019 5:51:27 GMT
Ivan squeezed Arthur’s hand as he guided him through the decorative hallways. He had not plan on giving a tour of the palaces rooms, but he did not mind doing it for Arthur. Admittedly, his reasons for growing a relationship with Arthur were fully selfish. He recognized Arthur’s strength in the world, and he knew if he wished to hold such status having the man as an ally was important. However, the past few years, as he grew to know him on a more personal level, he had grown affection for the man he had not expected. Arthur was charming, intelligent, and entertain him in a way he would have not expected from a Western European.
He smiled with his remark. “Nyet, you would not fit into my clothes,” he said honestly, but he smiled almost teasingly. He gave another squeeze as he glanced about the hallway. He was never one to wait for what he wanted, and as he looked at Arthur with that charming smirk and those enticing new pants, he knew what he wanted at that moment. He jerked his hand, pulling him closer against his form and pressed his lips to his, kissing him deeply for the brief moment that no eyes were on them. He then broke it with a smile. “I have told you how happy I am you came, da,” he said softly to him with a tinge of a blush.
He could see a few people coming down the hallway, so he guided him into his boss’s room. He let go of his hand, once they were within in. “Peter is your height, and he will not mind if you borrow,” he said as he went to the closet in search of clothes. He knew his boss would not mind if he could secure the unique pants. It was well worth the trade.
Post by England - Arthur Kirkland on Mar 16, 2019 21:11:18 GMT
Arthur remembered that he wasn’t particularly given over to any relationships that happened during his time of imperialism and intense piracy against other nations, only because he didn’t trust anything to be genuine while he retained that kind of power, being at the forefront of the world. But at the same time, he knew that these relationships were necessary when it came to networking with the rest of the world. It was an expectation. Alternatively, Arthur did remember enjoying what he could from these relationships, as politically motivated as they usually were. Past-Arthur would frequently be rather mischievous, showering his partner with attention, and was physically attentive to keep it enjoyable for both parties. And; occasionally, genuine affection would bloom. Arthur walked with Ivan down the corridors with this in mind, trying to remember aspects of himself during this time, some of which he wouldn’t care to replicate now that he'd grown something of a conscience.
He wasn’t expecting the sudden jerk on his hand, and he was trapped in a deep kiss with Ivan. Arthur’s pulse quickened with a hint of alarm, since he still was in a different relationship presently. Still, Arthur noticed the way that Ivan blushed and spoke to him in such a soft manner. This was a part of their past relationship that was easy to overlook, especially considering the sort of contentious association they were in now. Arthur’s expression softened a bit with Ivan’s admittance. ”Yes… You’re glowing tonight. I hope you’ll continue to be this happy.” Of course, Arthur knew this wasn’t going to be the case. Far from it. And his past self didn’t help matters over time: the deeper he settled into his own addictions, his growing hunger for power and global dominance, and the eventual closure of their relationship as the interactions between their monarchs became turbulent.
After his response, Arthur leaned forward to leave behind a second kiss, softer this time, perhaps one born of guilt and nostalgia. He pulled back before they started down the corridor once more. Arthur glanced about the grand room as Ivan started to search for clothes in the wardrobe. He wandered a bit, his eyes lingering on the trinkets along with the view from the large windows framed with heavy drapery to keep out the cold. The music from the ballroom wafted all the way up to the private quarters. Even if muffled, the music mixed with the lovely atmosphere weaved its own kind of spell. ”I’ll be dressing like your lot tonight, then,” Arthur commented with a small grin, his fingers trailing teasingly between Ivan’s shoulder blades as he passed him, continuing to explore the rest of the room. ”You’re certainly solidifying your place in the world, love.”
Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Mar 18, 2019 5:17:19 GMT
As a nation, Ivan did not expect to find love. Relationships formed out of responsibility to his people and further economic growth. Ivan certainly grew to enjoy his time more with some than with others, but at the end it was a sense of duty that called the relationship to move forward. Similar to his own heirs of royalty that were married to royalty of other nations, it was a requirement of a job. It did not mean Ivan did not enjoy the job placed on him. He had grown to like Arthur more than most nations. He was charming and entertaining, and he could make him feel young again. Love? Nyet, he would not describe their relationship as such. It was a brief blimp of happiness he would treasure, but love was something far more monumental that Ivan could not yet place.
Ivan blushed further with the mention of happiness. He was certainly happy tonight, but he knew it would only be fleeting. Similar to the joys of summer, winter would arrive and eventually bring death and darkness upon it. Yet even with such somber thoughts, it allowed Ivan to appreciate such brief moments of happiness to the fullest because he knew them to be treasured. He took the second kiss with a smile before he gathered his boss’s finest clothes. A spark traveled through his form as he felt his hand travel down his spine. He smiled with his remark as he brought the clothes out for display on the bed. “Da, you mean you will be dressed far more fashionable than the usual,” he teased as he laid an elegant red outfit out for him to observe. He did enjoy Arthur in red, likely because it represented strength that Ivan respected. He then turned to him as he noticed Arthur’s distraction with the room. He pulled his body towards him and played with the edge of his clothes. “Da, I hope you can keep up,” he commented with a smile, though it was a genuine slight threat underneath the tease. His past had taught him one thing. Strength was a requirement, and strength was what he would obtain at all cost. His hands roamed up Arthur’s chest, palms spread out as they moved up the sweatshirt before moving back down. He hooked his hands into the shirt and then pulled it off, gently tossing it to the side. His hands than went to the jeans, the true object of need for the evening, and he began to undo the button and zipper. He leaned forward to steal a kiss to distract him.
Post by England - Arthur Kirkland on Mar 19, 2019 2:42:06 GMT
At this point in England’s history, he never dated because he truly wanted to, or because he considered it at all serious. His last serious relationship had been his first, and ever since then, he hadn’t been interested in forming another attachment like that. Particularly when Arthur had started his pirating and harboring a rather cynical view of relationships and dating in general, he strayed especially far from the serious aspects whenever it was formed for political reasons. It didn’t mean that he couldn’t have fun in them, of course. And that’s the foundation of what had been his relationship with Ivan during this era. Partly, it was also because their royal families had such close blood ties. It was just as much their royal families' duty as much as it was their nations'.
Arthur snorted softly at Ivan’s comment about him being more fashionable when dressing like him. ”Oi, I wouldn’t go that far. I’d say that my fashion is entirely absurd as it is fashionable. In its own way.” Arthur was referring to the very strange style that he very clearly remembered adopted when he was terrorizing the seas, particularly whenever he would spot Spain’s gold-laden ships crossing from the new world. The bastard was too weak to keep any of that gold, so Arthur kindly took it off his hands. Pirating clothes were meant to intimidate and throw off an enemy. The red also aided in hiding blood spatter whenever the raids became particularly violent. Arthur personally enjoyed red as well, because that was England’s initial national color: red and white. At this time, he typically would always keep something red on his person as a symbol of that pride he had for his origins.
Arthur grinned a little with Ivan’s slight threat, very much knowing where the future was heading after this time. ”You’ll have your hands full if you want to keep pace with me. What I’m doing to Spain is only the start.” That accomplishment was still a fond memory for present Arthur, how thoroughly and wonderfully he had decimated the Spanish Empire, the once ruling power of the world. Part of that may be because he still had very little respect for Antonio.
He wasn’t expecting Ivan to kiss him again and pull off his shirt like he did. The thought came a little too late that there were quite a few markings on his body that would’ve been brand new to the Ivan of this time, the nasty scars across his chest and arm from the world wars, the inked design on his skin across a portion of his hip, side, and back from the 70’s. None of that he would’ve had during this time. Perhaps Ivan wouldn’t have even thought it too odd... maybe... or at least Arthur hoped that he didn’t ask too much about his changed appearance. He made sure that the hem of the pants underneath the jeans would remain where they were as he felt Ivan undoing the front of them. His face and along the back of his neck were becoming a little flushed.
Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Mar 19, 2019 4:28:36 GMT
As a European nation, he certainly understood the extravagance of the current fashion, but Spain, France, and England’s fashion took it to another level entirely. He often found some of their outfits odd, yet when asking the price tag for the garments, he would be momentarily speechless after hearing the results. Therefore, “absurd as it is fashionable” was an accurate description in Ivan’s mind, and he could not help the playful smile that graced his lips. Well Arthur would have to make do with an outfit far more conservative as it was elegant after his current clothes were removed.
This evening was taking a different turn in direction, not that Ivan minded. He would eventually have to return to the party and socialize with the many noblemen and women in attendance as well as his fellow nations. For now, he would enjoy exploring the body he had become familiar with over the past couple years. He broke his lips from his and gently peppered kisses along his jawline to his expose neck as he continued to undo the front of his past. “I hope you are not comparing me to Spain, my lion,” he husked against his skin before making his point clear by biting gently into his neck. His hands roamed back up his now bare chest as he guided him back to the bed behind him, only to pause when he came across an unfamiliar scar. He hesitated, knowing scars to be personal, and he would not have commented on it but it was quite large. He shifted back partially to glance down with his sight, seeing how it cross a good portion of his chest. “Are you okay?” he asked genuinely concerned. His hand gently ran over it, recognizing how deep of a wound it must have been to cause this. He had not heard of any recent wars with England, at least not any wars that would cause this.
The tattoos were barely even noticed because tattoos on a pirate came to little surprise. To be honest, Ivan was more surprised in how long it took him to bring ink to his body, but this…this scar. Ivan still had not shown Arthur his own scars around his neck. He kept his scarf wrapped around his neck or had it bandaged even during intimate moments together. Only his sisters and Yao had seen the scars, and because he did not feel comfortable showing them to Arthur, he knew how personal and dangerous scars could be. “If you do not wish to speak of it, I will not press. I am only concern,” he clarified as his violet eyes found his green ones.
Post by England - Arthur Kirkland on Mar 20, 2019 1:56:50 GMT
Arthur couldn’t help chuckling a little. ”Of course not. You’re nothing like him,” he murmured, quite distracted with the kisses down his neck, his personal weakness. And anyone who was familiar with Arthur intimately would know that about him. His fingers curled a little against Ivan’s long coat when he felt the bite to his neck, his heart racing pleasantly. Arthur moved when Ivan guided him, feeling the back of his leg’s hit the side of Peter’s bed. Of course, feeling where Ivan’s fingers were trailing along his chest, he knew which scar he was noticing.
It was very intimate to touch another nation’s scars, and Arthur wasn’t quite sure how he felt with Ivan, even past-Ivan, seeing and touching his. Perhaps the fact that this was past-Ivan, in a time when he wasn’t quite the person he was today, he didn’t feel the need to hide them immediately. He found Ivan’s eyes when he felt him looking directly at him.
”I won’t share how exactly… but it was given to me over a series of nights. Each night was faced with the uncertainty if that would be the night that broke me.” A hint of a wry smile, mixed with a hint of bitterness. ”I’m proud to say I lasted many, many nights. And these marks will always be a testament to that. I endured.” The smile faded and his gaze lingered on him before trailing to the side. ”I know that I’m not very impressive; I don't look like much. But I’ve survived, nonetheless…. All on my own. For better or worse in the end, for whatever we turn into once we’ve gone through those dark periods. I know it’s turned me into a bit of an atrocity over time… in order to survive the ugliness that surrounded me.” Arthur could honestly say, at this point in his existence, he didn’t want to be that monster anymore; he never wanted to see that side of himself again. ”Then again, maybe being monstrous is exactly what allows us to continue to survive. Even more so to be on top.” Arthur typically wouldn't share his inner thoughts, but it felt safe in a time slip, where this wouldn't have any bearing on the future.
Arthur’s expression softened when he glanced up at Ivan, hearing in his tone that he seemed genuine. ”I appreciate your concern.” He reached up to caress along Ivan’s cheek and jawline, a familiar gesture from this time period. He was always careful to avoid touching anywhere near Ivan’s neck, as he noticed during this time period how he always kept it covered, even during intimate moments. Arthur showed him the same respect when it came to scars, as that was a very personal thing to a nation. Even presently during contentious relations, Arthur would still offer Ivan that same respect, even if there was a chance that it might not be returned.
Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Mar 29, 2019 0:27:29 GMT
Ivan listened intently, keeping locked with those intense green eyes that seemed different than the last time he had seen them. His hands gently moved to his hips, holding him close to his form as he took in the information. He had not heard of such nights, nor any battle, recently. News did travel slow from Western Europe, but he would suspect that such an event like this to leave a large scar on a nation would be quite well-known to the region. He would have to do his research, but he certainly would not pry for more information from Arthur. He had told what he felt telling, and Ivan, though he could be overbearing, was respectful of sensitive boundaries.
He leaned into his touch, his cheek falling to the palm of his hand as he kept his eyes focused on his. “Da, we all are monsters in someone’s perspective. The Mother Bear who claws into the man, tearing him to pieces, but her action took hold out of love to protect the cub not far. Is the monster the bear or the man for killing it with a rifle before the bear could touch his own boy? It is a world of reality. We must do what we must to protect those we care for, even if it may discolor us to the world,” he responded, words honest and providing something deeper, as if these ideas were a cornerstone in his life. A justification for all actions because the end always justified the means. He would happily be either the bear or the man as long as those he loved were safe.
He paused briefly before smiling genuinely. “Such somber words. You are not a monster to me, my lion. Arrogant, da,” he teased, “not a monster.” He leaned forward to kiss him once more.