Dream ☭ № 1

[vodkas]

Warnings: Violence, weird portrayal of history
Dream Effect: Anyone watching will feel chilled to the bone by freezing cold. Nothing less, nothing more.

The country of Russia is vast and grand. Though the lands are difficult to farm, the people work hard to accomplish what they can in order to achieve livable conditions. Yet portrayed here is none of the fruition of this laborious work. There is only black and white: charred remains of fields and buildings covered by a thin blanket of snow.

Troops of the Grande Armée trudge through these barren lands, led by Napoleon Bonaparte and France. They look famished, and with good reason: no food has been left for them in the cities they've managed to conquer.

A figure sits alone on the ground in the middle of the road, his back facing the army. Napoleon's men come to a halt and France himself is sent forward to investigate. The figure lazily turns his head as he sees the fellow country approach.

"Privyet," Russia greets warmly. Cuts, bruises and even burns are visible on his face and hands, yet he smiles regardless. In his hands, he holds a withering sunflower. He's been plucking the petals off one by one.

"What are you doing here?" France demands. "We're leaving this horrible place. Get out of our way!"

Russia simply looks back to his flower and continues plucking petals. "He will kill you..." Pluck. "He will kill you not..." Pluck. "Ah..." He looks back up. "Tell me, if petal breaks, does it count for two?"

France takes a step back, clearly terrified by Russia's childish actions. Though he doesn't understand what Russia is talking about, he feels that something is very wrong. Looking back to see Napoleon and his men, he waves, forcing a feeble smile to assure them that everything is all right. Turning to face Russia again, he finds that they are no longer alone. It's difficult to make out, but a specter of sorts appears to be hovering behind Russia, his arms resting on the country's shoulders.

"You've met General Winter before, da?"

"Who? What? No! What the hell is this?!" France is nearly tripping over his own feet as he retreats and runs back to the safety of his army, but it's too late. A fierce wind literally blows him off his feet and continues on toward the army. Without any warning, a blizzard has started up. The screaming of the men and panicked neighing of the horses are drowned out by Russia's maniacal laughter. As France turns around one last time, he sees the faint outline of General Winter in the midst of the storm.

Russia lets the remains of the sunflower fly off into the storm.

"So cold, every year..."

Pulling his scarf tighter around his neck, he holds his arms and walks away.

Comments

[sinnerofdreams.livejournal.com]

[Road's interested in General Winter because she didn't really believe that he was a person...although he really wasn't. But still, she's intrigued.]

Was that General Winter, Russia?

[vodkas]

[He's pretty much figured out the Dreamberry, but he wasn't aware that it did anything on its own recently.]

Hm, was dream recorded last night? If so, that was him.

[sinnerofdreams.livejournal.com]

I had no clue that he looked so human. That other man seemed really scared of him.

[vodkas]

France? He is always scared of something. And he is right to fear the General.

[sinnerofdreams.livejournal.com]

That was France? He seems like he would be easily scared by things.

[vodkas]

The sheer terror in his screams of panic is music to my ears.

[sinnerofdreams.livejournal.com]

It did sound rather lovely, didn't it? Does he do that often?

[vodkas]

All the time.

[sinnerofdreams.livejournal.com]

I want to meet him and see in person!

[vodkas]

He may show up one day as we all did, da?

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

(ooc: It's this guy again! No fighting or killing acknowledged! : D)

(Wrath watches the dream. A marching army, headed by a human leader with resolute eyes with his blonde, lavishly dressed adjutant. Their human weakness is apparent. However-- all are gaunt, wild-eyed, defeated, for the opposing side apparently has burnt all the provisions. Wrath watches the blonde, what appears to be a diplomat engage another one--this latter one resembles a child pulling apart petals. Wrath's eyebrow arches at--one--that that is not a child at all, but a giant of a man--and the appearance of General Winter. The latter inspires fear in the human--the other one picking apart the flower petals--decidedly toying with the blonde one, is quite familiar with the general--who appears to be a spirit, one of those beings that Samantha told him about.)

(Wrath watches the appearance of General Winter that causes a severe storm, as the giant human with the face of a child laughs, rather manic, letting the sunflower fly away.)

It would appear that the onset of winter kills your sunflower each year, but protects your country. Am I wrong?

[vodkas]

[Russia can see that this man has been paying close attention to his dream, but he's got no reason to make any note of it. He answers with his usual carefree face and an accompanying smile.]

Correct! The winters in my lands are brutal to everyone.

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

(Wrath looks closely at the smile. It is the same as with the demon that he had met awhile ago--there is something unfathomable beneath a formidable wall. Yet--the silver-haired man's unhinged laughter in the dream revealed a portion of his nature.)

(He heard 'my lands'.) You are then, the ruler of that country?

[vodkas]

Not exactly. I am country, and must answer to leader.

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

(Wrath's eye widens. Another country. He already had met England, so the Homunculus takes this discovery with much less resistance.)

A country. Yes, of course. I met another one of you. Tell me, are you as proud of what you are as England is?

(Depending on the country's answer, the Homunculus will know what to expect in the ways of information--as well as whether to show the country deference appropriate to the powerful.)

[vodkas]

England is proud of disgusting food and a pathetic accomplishments. I have much more to be proud of.

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

(At that answer, Wrath humbles himself by dropping his own arrogant face. No doubt he is dealing with an older, more powerful country than England. And he respects England unequivocally.)

Then, you must have palatable food and have accomplished far beyond England's capacity. If you will deign to tell me--would you elaborate more on what makes you proud?

[vodkas]

Simple. I am proud of everything!

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

Such as?

[vodkas]

[A glint in his eyes and a dangerously wicked grin later, Russia's expression has gone from childishly cute to hauntingly terrifying.]

Strange man is very nosy. Be polite and introduce yourself before asking such things.

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

(Wrath is satisfied, upon seeing the country's true nature, the one that was apparent from the dream. With a being like this country, there is no need to resort to his human name. Because the country's features have become quite unhinged, Wrath's anger rises in proportion.)

I am Wrath, the Furious.

[vodkas]

[And in the blink of an eye, he's back to sunshine and rainbows.]

Oh? Interesting name. I once had a Czar who was called Ivan Groznyj. How did you happen to earn such a title?

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

(As Wrath does not speak nor understand that foreign tongue, Czar Ivan Groznyj means nothing to him. But had he known him, Wrath would notice some similarities in their rule.)

(He cannot help but arch an eyebrow at the speed and completeness at which the country raises up his facade. It is a mirror of his own behavior, which when he sees in others, is bewildering, and rather unnerving.)

I was named for the fragment of Father's soul that was put into me. Cough it up. (In dealing with a being that resembles him in temperament, he finds no need to be polite.)

[vodkas]

[Unfortunately for Wrath, that's not exactly the case here. Russia doesn't like being talked down to and would prefer to be shown respect.]

You are very strange creature, then. But I would be glad to share my history if you only ask nicely!

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

(It is clear to Wrath that the country prefers--possibly demands respect. So Wrath puts his pleasant exterior on once again. Unlike with England, however, it is not genuine respect, but only the appearance of it. England reminded him of Pride, but when speaking with this country, up until and including now, Wrath is reminded of someone he does not like very much--himself.)

Of course, where are my manners. Would you be so kind as to tell me of your illustrious history?

[vodkas]

[Fake respect is cool too, at least for now. Getting on Russia's bad side is just a bad idea.]

Certainly!

I started out very small, like any other country. With time and very hard work, my rulers conquered many lands until I became the biggest country in the world.

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

(Wrath does not know it is a bad idea to get on the silver-haired man's bad side, as the country has yet to demonstrate his power.)

(Time and hard work..Wrath has heard and perpetuated this myth countless times--the glory of conquering is something that exists only on paper. But he saves this question for later, when he has gained the country's trust.)

Biggest country in the world? It sounds like the country that lies north of mine--Drachma. What might your name be?

[vodkas]

There is no Drachma in my world. I am Russia.

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

Russia. (Wrath repeats, committing the name to memory.) It is a pleasure to meet you.

So tell me--if you could (He adds as an afterthought.) -- How long have you been in existence?

[vodkas]

Hm, very long. More than a thousand years.

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

(An ancient country. And yet--though Wrath behaves on a system of seniority, he can only manage to show the trappings of respect to a country who reminds him of himself.)

You are long-lived indeed.

(Looks at Russia's clothes.)

You are a soldier. Have you fought these thousand years alongside your inhabitants?

[vodkas]

Da, there has always been much fighting. It has become habit.

And you as well?

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

A habit. Then your citizenry is_ always at war. (He makes a guess.)

Correct, I am a soldier.

[vodkas]

You overgeneralize. It is wrong to assume 'always'.

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

I suppose my perspective is rather narrow. When I came to power, it was my duty to make certain that we were always at war.

[vodkas]

Oh? Sounds interesting! Tell me more about that.

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

(Russia's outward eagerness to hear about this business yields a brusque answer from Wrath--unable to keep up his front when dealing with certain topics. For most non-humans, Wrath would politely explain--but Wrath loathes to be polite for long to a nation that reminds him of himself.)

(He crudely illustrates his role of constant war on his world and the end result.)

The oceans of blood spilled on the borders of our nation will facilitate the destruction of the nation.

[vodkas]

Eh? Why would you want to destroy it?

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

I do not. I could care less about the nation. But it must be destroyed so Father can absorb Truth.

[vodkas]

Is this Truth another fragment of soul?

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

No. Truth is a whole. I am a fragment of Father, the being who wants to absorb Truth. He is a fragment of Van Hohenheim, who was human 500-odd years ago.

[vodkas]

And why would he want to do that?

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

Because he is ashamed of himself. Because 500 years ago he was nothing more than a Homunculus. He_still is.

[vodkas]

Being ashamed is no good. He should learn to accept his flaws.

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

One cannot do that if they are arrogant, however. Arrogance is only the other side of shame.

What abut you, Russia? Are you arrogant? Or are you angry, like me?

Or something else?

[vodkas]

Me? I am country with many hundreds of years of history. A man once called me "riddle wrapped in mystery inside enigma". I think that is nice definition.

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

(Wrath listens. A nice definition indeed.)

You are like a nesting doll.

(A few times Wrath has met with General Grunman, who insists on keeping the oddly-shaped figures in his office. Grunman would occasionally use the nesting dolls to hide insubordinate officers so that they would escape punishment. Always a laugh, that Grunman.)

I would think that with such a definition, your leaders have had to break many eggs to make omelets, so to speak.

[vodkas]

[Russia actually beams at that, taking it as a compliment.]

Nesting dolls originated in Russia!

[He's purposefully ignoring that last part, keeping true to his enigmatic definition. It's funner to make people work for it when they seem to want such information.]

[candidate-no-12.livejournal.com]

Therefore it is appropriate that you resemble them.

(How Russia beams, full of pride.)

(And Wrath is ready to work for it. With another country, he would return to the question when he had made the other country comfortable with his presence. But with Russia, he asks again.)

You are ignoring my inquiry on the policies of your rulers.

...Do you require more Equivalent Exchange?

Very well.

My reign is not one that they will write about favorably--not that I care. For my part in Father's plan, I have taken hostages, intimidated, engendered genocide, killed anyone who would get in my way.

In fact, I was on my way to put down a revolt the capital when I was brought here.