1945 - Kremlin Senate building, Moscow, Russia Germany has always had an interest in history, and this building is no exception. Originally built at the same time that America was fighting with England for his independence, it's construction had been ordered by none other than Catherine the Great. And likely she and many others who have walked these halls would probably be quite distressed by his presence and reason for being here - that thought almost makes him smile. He chose this place for these meetings for almost that very reason - to remind everyone, especially Russia, that this all now belongs to him. Because here everyone has gathered to negotiate and sign the paperwork, formalizing the end to the world's hostilities.
And he invited pretty much everyone to come who was interested - most nations do like to gather so that they can see their friends, express their hatred of their enemies, negotiate trade deals, and such. But that's a difficult thing to do during times of war. Possible, certainly, as long as the involved parties are reasonably assured that they won't be attacked when they come to talk, but it's a lot easier now that the guns are silent. He personally isn't very interested in outright socializing, but when a break was called in the meeting he decided to linger in the meeting room where he can easily be found if anyone should want to talk to him.
The meetings are going well so far, partly because the only nation of any note that is here who wasn't a part of the Axis is America - who should be able to behave himself as long as he's kept apart from England. But another reason is that everyone knows why they're here and what's being negotiated - borders, mostly, and everyone already agrees upon the general ideas if not the specifics. For example, with America it's a 'you stay on your side of the oceans, we'll stay on ours' type of a thing, but what does that mean, exactly? He's pretty sure that Japan will try to make a case for Hawaii being on his side of the ocean, for example, but Germany doesn't think that he's going to manage to convince America about that one. He himself still needs to work out what counts as 'half of Russia' with Japan - at least some of the potential difficulty with that division is mitigated by the fact that the border will be almost certainly in the middle of nowhere, so it won't matter to either of them exactly where it is. At least, not very much.
But that's something to be discussed more during the actual meeting, not during a break. Now is the time for more personal and less formal discussions. Which he supposes is a necessary thing, though he can't say that he appreciates the chaos of it - nations wandering around as they please, talking to whomever they wish - the more organized something is, the more he likes it personally. Then again, not all of the nations are wandering around so freely - after all, most of the world is presently under the control of one of five empires, and exactly how much freedom said empires are giving to their subordinates varies. As for his own, it depends on how much he trusts them. He only let those who swore up and down that they would behave themselves come, and even then he's assigned those he knows to be most loyal to be keeping an eye on those he knows to be least loyal. And one - Russia - he's keeping an eye on personally.
Moscow was the one place that Sweden never thought he’d find himself. There was nothing in his wildest dreams that could have prepared him for this happening. It was almost like walking in a dream as he looked around the room. Some people were talking quietly, in hushed whispers. Other people were laughing and talking boldly aloud. Those were the ones that were the winners of course. They were the ones hosting this event, the Axis. Not everyone in the Axis looked happy, however. Sweden spotted several people in the room that were dressed in Uniform but keeping to themselves with a drink. He didn’t blame them.
It was a situation that he could find himself in soon. Germany had approached him about it more than once and he knew it wasn’t going to be the last time not that the war was over. There was an overwhelming amount of tension in the air between the occasional laughter, mumbles and silence between people. This was supposed to be a time where they were relaxing, but everyone just seemed to be wallowing in defeat and some in absolute horror. His eyes scanned the room, noting the men that walked by with red badges on their arms. Berwald was looking for someone that he knew and could stand near or make small talk with. The more he moved through the crowd, the less he could imagine making that kind of talk with anyone. Instead, he decided to move to one of the tables and get himself a drink.
When he got to the table, he poured himself a drink and found a corner to lean into quietly. His mind couldn’t come off the situation that they were all sitting in. Where was the war going to go from here? Was it all just going to stop and everyone was going to stick to their portions of the world? England joined the Axis, the American’s took over the Canadians and the Asians have been taken by Japan. All of these empires began falling and rising and everything seemed so uncertain. Through it all, Sweden has managed to keep his neutrality and that he can only attribute to his cooperation with Germany.
Germany couldn’t have come out more on top, as frightening as that looked to the world at times. Sometimes Berwald doubted himself and his choices because of his cousin’s success. He would be lying if he didn’t say he occasionally felt pangs of guilt over the things that he’d hidden from him. With how his cousin had been able to take the world and all the people that looked up to him, maybe he wasn’t wrong? Who was to say? And Sweden certainly had no room to talk on the subject being neutral…and with what he had done. How could it be seen as anything less than betrayal?
These thoughts troubled him as he leaned against the wall, drinking idly out of his small cup. Still, his face remained emotionless and stone, never eluding to his troubles.
Moscow was a city that Arthur was hardly a stranger to; though it was normally visited under circumstances where he held far more control and in direct relation to the country that it belonged to. Those were tumultuous times, falling somewhere between displaying political charm in order to get what he wanted, but also being firm and unmoving in his demands. Those times felt almost silly in its supposed importance compared to the reality that they all currently faced. Arthur was well aware what this party was supposed to represent and why Germany had chosen to celebrate in Moscow. And although Arthur showed very little emotion at the moment, the atmosphere felt vile to him, like dancing on hallowed ground, the proverbial Russian blood still fresh beneath their feet. And, in turn, Arthur felt vile deep down. He rarely ever made decisions in history that he was entirely proud of, but they usually got him where he was: on top of an empire that stretched across the world. So, why should this feel any different?
The meeting was uncomfortable for him, because he knew to avoid a vast number of countries. Either those that he’d inadvertently angered, those who’d likewise angered him, or those whom he couldn’t even make eye contact with. Namely with France and Canada. He’d never been one for small talk, and he was hardly in the mood to even pretend to be civil or polite. And moving along the sidelines of the crowds, he could almost feel the avoidance around him, thick in the air. He was one of them when he shouldn’t be. And they all likely knew that. Even so, he had to pretend like he was mentally present. Having arrived in what was considered fashionable for the time, chino trousers mixed into his business attire beneath a belted, double breasted coat. His gloves had been peeled away, his hat was given to the doorman, though he insisted on keeping the coat for now. He suspected that the chill he was feeling radiated from within.
After noting which parts of the room to summarily avoid, he made for the table that housed all the drinks, his eyes of course looking for the promised liquor. Having passed Ludwig on his way to the table, he briefly caught his eyes, giving an acknowledged nod. Upon making it to the other side of the room where the liquor was, Arthur poured himself a healthy serving of whiskey, though was disappointed that this was hardly the time nor place to get properly plastered. Something that he thought was very appropriate for the setting. But, he would enjoy it a little; the only barely living shred of light in this meeting. Soon, they would all be talking borders and other such negotiations that naturally proceeded war. But for now, this is what he craved.
And not too far from the liquor laden table, he noticed the ever stony-faced Berwald leaning against the wall. Normally, he never gave him any attention or heed, not when he had the approachability factor of a garden statue. And a sort of heaviness blanketed Arthur upon the realization for not the first time that hour that a garden statue was far preferable at the moment… More preferable than the avoidance, than the fact that he couldn’t even make sodding eye contact with a few of them. He straightened himself and moved to lean against the wall, a little less than an arm’s length away from Berwald, staring forward blank-faced into the crowd as he gently swirled his liquid heat in the sparkling glass.
”A negotiation, a party, or a funeral… I can’t decide which,” Arthur muttered so lowly that his words could have gone unnoticed if he wasn’t within the proximity he was to the other. ”A funeral might be the most appropriate. Death marks new beginnings, for better or for worse.” He recalled his own pagan connotations for what death represented, not always a negative connotation, but still a mostly morbid one. Arthur’s tone of voice was flat, drab, and honest, and his eyes remained carefully forward on the scene, bringing the whiskey to his lips once more.
As his eyes scan around the room, Germany's eyes incidentally lock with those of his cousin even though he's not someone that he's specifically wanting to talk to - at least right now. It's his intention merely to follow up on their previous conversation at some point, and even then only briefly. He doesn't want the man to feel harassed, after all, but on the other hand this is not a matter that he's going to drop any time soon. So a brief follow up at some point during these meetings, and a stronger one later. So for now he simply gives his cousin a nod of acknowledgement and then continues to look around.
But his eyes don't travel far before he spots England - now that is someone he does need to talk to. And probably several times, actually - after all, they are both rather powerful and so their continued cooperation is just as vital for the continuation of peace as it was during the war. And, being caught looking in his direction he nods back but also gets up from his chair and slowly walks over.
As he does so, still watching his ally, he frowns slightly to himself when the sees the quantity of alcohol that the man is consuming. Well, he supposes that England is in a difficult situation, given all of the family difficulties and such, and no doubt these meetings only remind him of everything that has happened. Not that he feels especially sorry for him - ally or not, he's not forgotten the way he was treated after the first world war and which nations are responsible for that. At least England can count himself lucky that the German's anger in his case only amounts to a complete lack of pity for his situation and not something worse - just look at what happened to France.
With the issue fresh on his mind, he glances over at the table with the drinks as he comes close to it, checking to make sure that those he assigned to watch it are doing so. He doesn't want to be obtrusive about it, but he doesn't want there to be any... incidents. And that means that certain nations with a habit of imbibing a bit too freely need to have someone politely tell them that perhaps they ought to slow down, perhaps with a reminder of who is hosting this party and a hinted threat if need be. He wouldn't have provided the table at all, but there had been a nation or two that needed to come who didn't want to but who could be enticed by the thought of free alcohol. He himself has been cutting back. Not entirely, of course - in fact, lately his consumption has been more in private and in larger portions. But right now he passes the table without taking anything for himself.
Instead he reaches England, who has stopped near Sweden, and greets them both with a nod. "Good afternoon," he says, simply introducing himself into the conversation. He'd heard words being said as he approached, but not what they were about and in any event he knows that they may not wish to continue on the same topic while he is present - he gets that a lot. Though while he'd of course be curious if they seem to change the subject just because he's there, he's not very concerned - after all, even if his worst suspicions are true he hasn't seen any actual sign that either his ally or his cousin have gotten it into their heads that it would be a good idea to cross him.
His eyes scanned the crowd. Sweden noticed that Arthur was approaching. A while ago England had joined the Axis. He didn't know how he felt about that and the more he thought about it the more conflicting the situation became. Sweden had been avoiding joining the Reich and the fact that England moved into the Axis before him was almost disturbing.
There wasn't any argument in the room over victory and whatever talk of resistance that existed at the beginning of the war was being squashed here. No Soviet boots were marching through Moscow today. He couldn't help but notice that Ivan was nowhere to be seen. It was unlikely that he was the only one to notice, and in Moscow that only made the air thicker with tension.
"Halla, England." He greeted as the brit leaned against the wall near him. Berwald wasn't aware of how much Arthur had been drinking but he knew the man had a reputation for it. As he listened to Arthur, he noted that he wasn't wrong by any means. It did seem like they were going to a funeral, but he wasn't going to voice that out loud. Not because he was afraid to say it, but because he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to say with sarcasm. His cousin had defeated the red army, which wasn't completely a bad thing. In fact, as the war was coming to a close, Sweden wasn't totally sure if anything Germany was doing was wrong.
"Hm." Berwald grunted in response to Arthur and noted his disposition toward their situation. A figure was approaching them. He locked eyes with his cousin for a brief moment, taking in the way he held himself and his attire. "We need to talk." He announced to him quietly, his tone remaining flat. Obviously, he wasn't talking about here or now. There were far too many eyes around them and a pair of ears approaching that didn't need to hear what he had to say anyway. After he said it he thought about how it must of sounded without context, but it was too late to fix.
It wouldn't be surprising if Arthur already didn't trust him to begin with. They had never been the greatest of friends, nor enemies in the past. They had both been quite passive with each other in recent years. But the whole room seemed to have new reasons not to trust anyone around them. Despite Arthur already being in the Axis, Berwald was directly related to Germany…..and blood is thicker than water as they say.
"Halla, cousin." He greeted Germany normally like he would any other time. He was first to extend his hand this time and shake his cousins hand. "Thank you for inviting me to your commemorating party." Berwald thanked him, making sure he didn't forget. He'd never been a part of the war (At least as far as Germany knew), yet his cousin still invited him. He'd come up at the wrong time as he really needed to talk to Arthur alone, but the opportunity could come up again and it was best to leave their conversation where it was for now. "Arthur was just telling me how much he was enjoying it." He tried to make conversation from his last sentence.
Arthur may have been slightly irritated had he heard the unspoken ruminations of both Germany and Sweden regarding him drinking his modest tumbler glass of whiskey. It’s not as if he’d taken the entire bottle off the table like some classless, hopelessly sloshed twat. Though, he supposed that any sort of drinking in public could be seen as inappropriate by some. With that being said, Arthur was aware of his reputation as indulging a bit more than he should, both in private and in public. But for now, Arthur remained unapologetic with this habit of his in particular; especially when it didn’t concern anyone in the room aside from himself. His reasons were his own, and he desired no pity nor judgment. He would forever attest that his business was his own, and he very much planned on keeping it that way. As long as everyone kept their opinions to themselves on the matter, then he would take no issue.
His ears caught Berwald’s response, and he was honestly a little surprised that he managed to get even that much of a response from the frigid, stone-faced man. It was far better than any reaction he was likely to get from any of the others at the moment, so Arthur silently acknowledged it, appreciating him for his minimalist objectivity.
More importantly, he lacked any outward reaction when Berwald quietly added that they needed to talk. Arthur knew to not respond to his words; he simply took another slow sip from his tumbler glass, a certain intrigued gleam in his gaze as he continued to keep it trained forward on the miserable and despondent crowd. However, his eyes trailed from the rim of the glass over to the German approaching them; Arthur’s posture remained unchanged, perhaps even more relaxed and poised in that familiar haughty assurance.
”Good afternoon,” Arthur murmured in response to Ludwig, politely. He assumed that Berwald was intelligent enough to not make any further mention of wanting to talk to him. That would come later if his request held urgency. If he did make any further insinuations, then it would go transparently ignored by the Englishman. His lips curved a little at Berwald’s comment that he was enjoying the commemorating party. ”Immensely,” Arthur responded, his quiet, but composed tone not really giving evidence to feeling strongly one way over the other. He did turn his attention more toward Ludwig, however. ”We do have quite a bit to discuss, I imagine. My schedule is at your disposal, whenever you manage to find time in yours.” he added with a respectable and low tone, equally concerned with their continued cooperation throughout these vast global changes.
Though for many nations this meeting is an opportunity to tie up loose ends after a massive war, for Vietnam this is something else entirely. When the war had started, she was a protectorate of a protectorate - no more important than a state or province really, never mind that her Boss was called an emperor. As such she wouldn't have been invited to a meeting such as this. Instead, here she is and this gathering is the perfect opportunity to reintroduce herself to the world. Or, in a few cases, introduce herself for the first time - the world has changed in the past hundred years or so. Germany wasn't even his own country back then.
As she makes her rounds, she keeps an eye out for the nations that she hasn't spoken to yet - one of her goals is to at least say hello to everyone present, and any nations who live close enough she needs to speak to about trade deals. Of course, any such thing will need to be approved of by Japan before they can go through, but in most cases he should be agreeable. After all, growing her economy benefits him too. Which is why a cluster of a few Europeans catches her eye. Not Sweden, of course - he's a world away from her. But the larger empires reach everywhere and England has colonies almost next door to her. Of course, she being a mere protectorate and them being very large empires she suspects that if she brings up trade she'll be redirected to speak to one of their subordinates about it, but she should definitely introduce herself.
But even as she tells herself this, she finds herself having to pause for a breath first - the thought of speaking to them makes her a little nervous, and for several reasons. She's still not fully used to speaking nation to nation again, let alone to such large ones. And they're Europeans too, such she needs to beware of cultural differences and the like - it wouldn't do to make any mistakes. If she messes up to badly, it would fall upon Japan to sort it out, and he wouldn't be pleased at all if he had to do that. Then again, she did learn a thing or two while serving France - Westerners in general are far less foreign to her than they once were.
So, after taking another breath, she gathers up her courage and walks over to them, telling herself that there is no real need to worry. In fact, she would appear to be quite confident as she approaches. "I'm sorry if I am interrupting," she says as she joins them, "But I am Vietnam - you may not remember." She gives a shy, self-effacing smile at her own words, clearly implying that she doesn't consider herself to be important enough to be remembered, so it's totally fine if they don't. "I have been introducing and reintroducing myself to everyone here," she adds to explain her interruption, sounding almost apologetic for the intrusion, but she does have to do so in order to make sure that she talks to everyone, doesn't she?
When Sweden extends his hand, Germany shakes it with a firm grip - not enough to cause discomfort but enough to almost be a reminder of how much strength is his at the moment. "Commemorating party?" he repeats out loud, "I suppose it is..." It's more of a conference, really, but there is an air of celebration to it for the Axis members. He glances at England - well, most of the Axis members. Most of the Axis members won their fight - for England it was more of a draw, and he paid a price for it. Not that Germany looks down on him for that - if anything he is partly to blame for not offering his ally more assistance. Then again, he did send what he could spare, which wasn't much because he was in the middle of fighting Russia himself - and Russia put up much more of a fight than he expected. Germany still won, but took more time, men, and resources than he expected.
When goes on to further state that England was enjoying it, he allows a very small hint of skepticism cross his face - this is something that the doubts, no matter how many poker faces are being cast in his direction. "You knov vhat this reminds me of? A similar party ve had in Paris in 1919," he comments, a slight grin coming to his face as he adds, "Good times..."
But then his amusement disappears as he looks more specifically toward England and states, "Of course - there are already plans in the vorks to have a meeting of just the Axis after ve are done here - hovever long this takes..." Even with everything going smoothly, even polite conversations about borders can take some time. "And of course, vhile ve are here ve should take the opportunity to meet in private." And for what reason is not something he'll say in front of Sweden - though it's likely that England would have his own things to say during a private meeting as well. In this age when travel is only somewhat easy and there isn't really such a thing as secure communications, things that should be said privately tend to accumulate. "But that can vait until ve knov for sure that everything here vill go as expected," he says casually, though he's not really worried that it won't. You never know when some nation will decide that the very concept of something they seemed agreeable about before is completely unacceptable, which then causes a carefully crafted treaty to fall apart. Hopefully that doesn't happen too many times, or all of this could end up taking a very long time. Time that he'd rather spend implementing his plan designed to allow his people to recover from the war as quickly as possible.
"But until then, do let me knov if you could use my... influence... on any of your negotiations? Ve're allies, after all - I vant you to vork out the best solution possible for your people," he adds quietly, not minding if Sweden overhears. Well, what's best for England as long as it doesn't contradict what's best for the German people, of course.
Having said that, he suddenly finds their conversation being interrupted. Fortunately the woman is kind enough to provide her name - he would have remembered it if he tried, but that one would have been a bit of a reach while being put on the spot. "Ah, Vietnam, yes - I'd heard that Japan made you a protectorate. I believe that a congratulations is appropriate," he says politely. But not with any more than the bare minimum of enthusiasm required to avoid sounding like he's not interested. The truth is that he's not interested in her at all - he just knows about it because he makes it his business to know everything that Japan does. But he is interested in appearing to be magnanimous, so he's willing to indulge this intrusion as long as it's brief and not annoying.
The squeeze of his cousins didn't go unnoticed. There was very little from his cousin at the moment that went unnoticed unless it was something Ludwig already didn't want him to know about. It wasn't the first time he'd experienced that power either, not that it was avoidable by any means at the moment. It was certain that everyone in the room could feel it from where they were standing, whether they were touching Germany or not. How could this be called anything else but a commemorating party? Berwald only had to glance around to tell that most of the Axis members that were here - defeated by Germany or overwhelmed by - didn't want to be here. This was a celebration of Germany victory and letting everyone know about it. The same attitude would be displayed in laying out the boarders of nations as well. His cousin already knew there was no way he was going to get the raw end of the deal.
The joke didn't go unnoticed either. 1919, the peace Treaty of Versailles. How could anyone forget? Germany certainly hadn't and with the crude joke, it seemed to be exactly what he was still bitter about. Berwald wouldn't be surprised if it fueled most of his drive for this entire war. Sweden had no room to talk however. Just as he is in this war, he remained completely out of the first world war as well. He didn't know how much longer he was going to be able to say that about this one. They may have been talking peace and celebrating his cousin’s victory already, but something told him that this was just the end of the war in Europe and a whole new conflict was on the verge of appearing. Something about the way his cousin now carried himself told him that his lustful hunger to devour the world was not completed yet.
Germany was not treated kindly at the treaty of Versailles, that much he remembers. His cousin was just giving everyone back the treatment he felt he received after the war. In a way, Berwald could not blame him, perhaps Europe was finally getting what they deserved. Right now, he was in no place to judge and after looking around the room, the difficult choices in his mind were closing in. Eventually he was going to have to pick a side and only one of those sides wasn't suicide.
Thankfully, Berwald didn't have to laugh at the joke, and even if he wanted to he couldn't. Something told him that Germany wanted him to be at that Axis meeting too, but that would have been too quick of a choice for Berwald. England was in a much more difficult situation and now both of them were pressuring him to talk off the record. He would have to catch England away from German ears, but he would have to do it today. "Everything will go fine cousin, it is a wonderful party." He restated if just to make conversation. German influence was exactly what Berwald didn't want in England's ear and the more of it he would be fed the less he would trust him with his current matter. Even so, he didn't consider himself a close friend to England like he did his cousin. Under different circumstances, he probably would have been standing with him by now. He would have been a fool to think Germany hadn't had the same thought….
Berwald went to speak but they were interrupted by a new face. He had never seen this woman before, only heard of her. It seemed like she wanted everyone to know who she was and she was sitting on the opposite side of the power table at that. She seemed unimportant and it was probably smart that she made herself seem in that position. Sometimes Sweden hoped he'd be in that position himself but what he'd done couldn't make for that at the moment. What was best for his people was getting rid of a massive secret he was hiding, how he was going to do that without being imprisoned forever (and God knows what beyond that), was the challenge. He nodded to Vietnam, just to greet her and used the opportunity to turn to England instead.
" Your home is much warmer than mine this time of year." Sweden stated oddly but he was talking to him more in code than anything else. He really didn't know how else to say "Your place or mine?" in speech without saying it. Hopefully to everyone else it just seemed like mindless small talk until the meeting started. With Germany occupied with an interruption, it seemed like the best time.
Japan was impressed by the Kremlin Senate Building, not just for its architecture, but for the message it represented at this, the close of the campaign. Kiku could almost smell the lingering stench of gunpowder, the acrid lead, the cooper of blood. It appeared the battles of Russia and Germany had not made it into this building; it if nothing else was spared and now it stood, not a testament to those who built it, but to the one who conquered it. He cannot begin to imagine how Ivan must feel at this meeting being held in what for all purposes should be his, but if his experiences are anything to build from, Japan can only touch on the indescribable ire that must be seizing in the Russian’s chest. Only the victors write the history, however, and once more Japan has found himself on that addicting side.
He too had decided to stay in the meeting room after the break was called, though he did not keep his seat. Remaining seated would have served no purpose and after the hours that had already passed of treaties, suggestions, agreements, his legs were beginning to cramp. It had felt like such a long time since he’d been able to merely sit and discuss rather than allow his soldiers and firepower to do the speaking. It is both relieving and yet the itch of battle still has not worn off. He had not had his fill of bloodshed yet or perhaps his body was still zinging in and accommodating the power he had gained in unifying East Asia and some of the Oceanians into his folds. He was no longer just that trail of islands anymore. It had only been a decade and yet as he envisioned all the lands that were or were soon be agreed to be his he couldn’t help but sigh and smile. An actual smile, even if it’s one of complete satisfaction.
Today Kiku was dressed in the white of his navy’s dress uniform, his black dress shoes were polished to perfection and shine in the light that fell from above. His subordinates, the nations he had conquered had been allowed to attend if they chose or to stay home; he proudly invited him. Germany may parade the Senate building as his picture of victory. Japan’s is evident in the way he allowed his conquered siblings to freely roam the event. He does not fear their misbehavior—each know the consequences that would follow if they acted out—he even doubted they would act up. No, they wouldn’t dare yet, but how entertaining it would be if they did. He smirked as he lifted his crystal glass to his lips and took a sip before gracefully taking it away. He will not imbibe alcohol here—or what the West considers good spirits. He has an image and manner to maintain and will not be distracted. After all, the conquerors should be sober, strong. His drink is sparkling water and the carbonation bubbles amusingly against his tongue. The feel was almost as interesting as the thought of one of his brothers or sisters testing him. Did they think they would catch him off guard were they to cause a scene?
The thought was fluttering pleasurably through his head when he spotted Thi. The smile that now crossed his face was soft. He stepped closer, but not enough to intrude. He was not here to interrupt her, not even to intervene in the conversation that he saw involved Ludwig, Arthur, and Berwald. He was a nation of observation and he does not feel he must speak yet. Instead he watched and if one of them took notice and invited him, that would be when he’d joined. He will await invitation this time.
Ivan stood in his boss’ old office, staring blankly at the blood stain in the carpet. When the German forces broke into Moscow a few days ago, Ivan had been standing in this very spot with Stalin before him. For all of his faults, Stalin had always been true to Russia and the Soviet Empire he had hoped to create. He wanted to bring Russia to the world stage, and he would have succeeded if a few strategic blunders hadn’t cost them the war. When the foreign soldiers invaded his city, a feat that hadn’t occurred since Napoleon, and like that time, Ivan wanted to burn Moscow to ground. If Moscow would not stay in his hands, it would not stay in Germans, but Stalin had other plans. The man was in a rage, yet even in a rage he had a sly intellect. Stalin had already spoken to his second in command and a surrender would be ordered. It left a bitter taste in everyone’s mouth. Soviets did not surrender, they would rather die. Unfortunately, with the current circumstances, it was the only option and for that reason, it had to be done. Stalin had turned to face him on the day of the end. He could see the fury in his eyes, the murderous look to take each German down to hell with him. Yet they both knew the results of surrender. Stalin would face torture and execution by the Germans. “Remember, you are Russia. You will endure, you will survive, and you will become stronger than any can perceive. You will become a world power. Unfortunately, that day is not today. I leave it to your hands, Russia. Do not fail me. Do you understand?” Stalin spoke with a bite in his voice.
Ivan took the words and the orders they were, knowing they would be the last from his boss. “Yes,” he stated and nodded, keeping his attention forward, even as his insides felt torn apart by his people dying in the heart of his city.
Stalin grunted and pulled out his gun. “I will never let a filthy treacherous German determine when I meet my hell. To death with Hitler,” he growled, placing the gun to his temple and pulling the trigger. The shot rang and his body hit the rug with a thud, blood seeping in and spreading.
It seemed in all the chaos of the last few days, no one had managed to get out the stain, which was why Ivan found himself staring at it on the day of Germany’s victory party. It disgusted him to have the Germans parading around his city as if it were their own. To have another nation ruling over him only reminded him of the days under Mongolia, but Ivan was no longer that same weak nation he once was. Germany could continue this façade, and Russia would allow it. He heard a German soldier in the doorway of the office order him to move downstairs. It felt like a snap of a leash. Ivan pulled his violet gaze from the stain and smiled at the soldier. The bitterness and anger hidden behind his features. He moved downstairs, noticing many German soldiers in his building. He took it all in with a calm deep breath and entered into the main grand hall where such events occurred. He saw many nations and foreign leaders. While he knew the Germans saw this event as a celebration, it all stank of death. Germany did not know how to celebrate, so he could not be very surprised. Ivan noticed Germany himself speaking with England and Sweden. Many defeated nations might cower in front of their new ruling nation, Ivan would not.
Ivan grabbed a desert from the buffet style table and walked over to the group. He ate it causally, feeling his taste buds with chocolate instead of the bitter defeat. When he reached the group, he smiled as he finished chewing, then swallowed. “Congratulation, Germany,” he said in an almost too sweet of a voice with a smile, completely ignoring the conversation he had interrupted. “I am very impressed with the food. I tasted no blood, even though you left so much of it in your wake.” He giggled and then sucked the chocolate off his gloved fingers.
Arthur's thought process was usually quite logical with regard to these parties, treaties, and the various turns of the tides in wars and negotiations. The older the nations grew, the more it seemed like a game; a nation wins some and they lose some. And it’s ever changing. Hearing Germany’s comment on the Treaty of Versailles caused the corner of his lips to raise ever so slightly, hearing the bitterness staunch behind his words. In that brief moment, to Arthur, Ludwig sounded young. But, at the same time, to England, that was simply part of the game. Germany had built his own throne in the process, and now he got to sit in it. Though he turned his attention more closely when he addressed him specifically; Arthur’s attention perked with his request to meet in private. So many nations desired to meet him privately; that was either a good thing or a very complicated thing. He would find out soon enough. ”Yes, of course. I’ll plan to meet with you privately right after this commences.” Likewise, Arthur didn’t see any reason why this shouldn’t go according to plan. But stranger things have happened.
He paused for a brief moment with Germany’s offer regarding his influence for certain negotiations. ”I may require it. Although some of that can be addressed privately as well. Thank you for your consideration.” Arthur only had a few issues that may require German support at the very least, but it wasn’t urgent in a way where he couldn’t wait to talk about them privately. England was always such a private nation, carefully guarding his secrets, even about the most seemingly mundane details.
And when their conversation was briefly interrupted, Arthur immediately recognized Vietnam due to her former entanglement with France. His eyes found hers and he gave her a polite nod of acknowledgement. His attention was drawn once more when he heard Berwald’s question, reading it for what it was. Arthur gave him a sidelong glance, a moment's pause as he considered. ”I have to agree. It’s still a little dreary with the weather, but I think I still prefer it.” Answering him in kind, to both of his inquiries.
He swirled what remained of his whiskey before noticing that Japan had entered the fray, the picture of elegance in his pristine uniform amidst the barely dried blood that invisibly lined this room and what it represented. Arthur sensed the diverging sentiments that he usually felt whenever Kiku was present, though he reserved himself to a tight-lipped smile of courtesy entirely for show when he approached. ”A pleasure to see you, Japan, as always,” he responded, inviting him into the conversation. Of course, Arthur’s regard was once again side-railed when Ivan joined in, eating a sweet. He couldn’t help the derisive amusement touching him with Ivan’s all-too blunt honesty—one of the few things that Arthur truly appreciated these days. Perhaps one of the shining qualities of being on the less fortunate end was their candor in surveying the scene. They had nothing to lose; so nothing was ever held back.
Half prepared to be ignored by these nations (not that she wouldn't have felt snubbed, but it's not like she could really do anything if they did), Vietnam is surprised and quite delighted to be greeted so politely by Germany himself. "Cảm ơn bạn!" she thanks him, her smile becoming quite flattered. Even if it does grate on her to be simultaneously reminded exactly what her position is in the grand scheme of things. But it's still an improvement upon what she experienced under French rule. She also notices and returns England's polite nod.
In contrast to that, that Sweden only looks at her and doesn't say a thing seems to almost be insulting. Somewhere deeply inside of her she notes just how close he is to being put into the same situation that she's in, though on the surface she simply maintains her smile. On that same note, she feels - and hardly for the first time - like she's being watched. So she just so happens to check behind herself as if admiring the room. Ah, her brother Japan is watching her again - she smiles in his direction before turning back to the group. Her brother's attention bothers her a lot, but what can she do about it? She's not about to go against him or anything - not right now. No, she simply wants to make sure that the world knows that she exists. And that she would like to trade. That's just as good for him as it is for her.
That's when they're joined by someone else, and Vietnam finds herself even more intimidated than she was before. Especially after hearing what he says to Germany... she finds herself double checking to make sure that she's not too close to either nation, just in case something happens. She ends up taking a step or two closer to Japan, because that seems safer for her at the moment. He is, after all, obligated to protect her if need be - any harm to her would be an attack on him, after all.
At first, Alfred saw very little reason to attend the end of war 'celebration' in Moscow. It wasn't as though he was on good terms with the vast majority of nations there..though he wasn't on particularly bad terms with them either. He eventually decided to attend, primarily because there were a few matters that still needed to be negotiated. Japan made it clear that he wanted Hawaii, but Alfred had no intent to let Hawaii fall into his hands.
He also wanted to see where these other countries stood. He rarely interacted with most of them these days, keeping to his side of the ocean..and that was fine by him, for now. He needed time to rebuild after the war, but it would not, could not stay like this forever. He was going to have to make a move eventually. It was quite lonely over in the Americas, and although he'd managed to convince a handful of nations to follow his lead it was hardly enough. Like hell he was going to let fascism win. Like hell he was going to stop with just Canada under his command.
The majority of the other powers were already there when he arrived. Germany was the host of course, and he decked out the place magnificently. A part of Alfred felt sorry for Russia, though also grateful that he hadn't found himself in the same position. He technically hadn't fought against Germany after all, although he didn't agree with what Germany was doing and refused to show support for the Axis. But he hadn't outright declared war against them either, which counted for something didn't it?
Alfred approached the group of nations that was talking, a huge grin on his face. "It's nice to be able to get together like this again! We should do this 'peace' thing more often." Tone deaf? Yes, but that was entirely the point. While it was nice to get together in a time of peace, they were celebrating the wrong thing. They should not be celebrating the victory of these fascist pigs, and Alfred hoped to see to it himself that their victory was short-lived. But now was not the time to attack..so he might as well give them the impression that he was no threat, that he was perfectly content to let them do their thing so long as they left him alone.
..and he wasn't pretending, not entirely. There was a part of him that was content to let them deal with their mess and wallow in it, especially when they inevitably turned against once another. At least one of the Axis powers would overstep his bounds, he was willing to bet on it, and would piss off at least one of the others and then they'd be right back where they started. And Alfred would buy popcorn and watch, and then, once they weakened each other far enough? He'd swoop in and save them from themselves. And they'd see that he was right all along, whether they wanted to or not.
He did notice Vietnam's appearance and nodded in acknowledgement, though he also noted that Japan was in close proximity. Ah, so he was keeping a close watch on her..and yet not approaching the group himself. Typical Japan. He let out a chuckle and raised his glass to his lips and took a few drinks
The last person that Germany needs reassurances from is Sweden, so he lets that statement go without commentary. These meetings will go well because if not then he'll make them go well. With as much diplomacy as possible, of course - he doesn't want to start another war. But he suspects that everyone can agree that a peaceful meeting is what everyone wants. And he nods to England, satisfied for now that a later meeting is on both of their to-do lists - there are so many other things that need his attention right now that it's difficult to actually have a firm schedule.
He doesn't miss the fact that England and Sweden are planning on talking privately as well, but that hardly seems important. Nations do that, after all, and though sometimes that matters a lot, usually it doesn't. Sometimes they just want to negotiate a minor trade deal or something. And because they're talking about such unimportant matters, Germany finds his attention drifting just a little, which is why he noticed Japan drawing near. He simply nods to the other empire, knowing of the man's tendancy to wait before speaking.
But even if he was inclined to speak to Japan immediately, the arrival of Russia would surely have drawn his attention anyways. Not that it's unexpected - Germany noticed that the man had wandered off and sent a man to go get him. Of course, if that man had been refused Germany would have gone to fetch him personally, but fortunately the Russian doesn't seem to want to be difficult right now. Well, aside from offering some somewhat crude commentary. "Gern geschehen!" he replies, putting a heavy hand on Russia's shoulder, "You'll notice that you don't taste any ashes either, even though you've been quite the pyromaniac lately..." The hint of amusement in his eyes suggests that he's joking around, but the heaviness of his hand suggests otherwise.
He might have said more, but it's now that America deigns to grace them with his presence, apparently. "Ah, America. Thank you for joining us," he says rather neutrally, which is exactly how he feels about the other nation. Technically they didn't fight in the war, though he did offer aid and support to England for approximately the second half of it, but their fight (and the associated bitterness) was not his. He removes his hand from Russia's shoulder and instead offers it to America to shake. "It's good to have this opportunity to come together, formalize this newly found time of peace, and try to ensure that it vill continue," he states rather seriously, "A var such as the one ve just fought is not good for anyone. But I must admit that you handled it vell - not just anyone can drav vith England." And his tone hints at a certain level of respect for both nations in that regard.