Application for Ivan Braginski (Axis Powers Hetalia)

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

It was with no small amount of confusion that Ivan found himself not in the foyer of his house in Moscow, but inside what seemed to be a rather large castle he had never stepped foot in before. His round, childish face scrunched up, he slowly turned around to stare at the door he had just come through. No, that was definitely not his front door. Strange, because he was certain that he had just come in from his garden.

Well, damn, he hoped he'd seen the last of those memory lapses after 1991.

When Ivan turned back around there was a wide, cheerful smile plastered on his face and a long metal water pipe clutched in both gloved hands. He surveyed the room quickly for anyone he could talk to about exactly where he was and how he’d gotten here, before he spotted a desk across the room. As it was the most distinguishing object he had seen so far, Ivan approached it with a few long strides.

State your full name.

There was a piece of parchment on the desk, and it was talking to him.

He was, however, far more interested in the quill floating over the paper than disembodied voices. This probably said something about his character, or his current mental state, but Ivan wasn’t the introspective sort.

He stared at the Dictaquill with open curiosity, and reached out after a moment to nudge it with the faucet end of his pipe. It bobbed gently in the air before returning to its place over the parchment. Far more amused than concerned that the quill was floating, Ivan giggled, a sound that was surely quite disconcerting coming from such a large man.

Oh well, it wasn't like he had anything else to do. Why not play along? This could be fun.

"Ivan..." He trailed off, distracted by the scratching of pen against parchment, and leaned over to see what had been written. Oh, so it was taking dictation? That was certainly helpful, but now Ivan felt a bit self-conscious. He cleared his throat, uncomfortable, and tugged his scarf away from his face. "Ah, sorry. Ivan Braginski."

1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?

Ivan blinked mildly. Cheese? It was asking him about cheese? What was this questionnaire even for? “I… rather like tvorog, especially in other foods. Bryndza is nice, too, I suppose.”

2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?

Genuinely confused by the sudden topic change and by the question itself, Ivan tilted his head and frowned. "I do not understand. Why would I want to kill either of them? Neither one has done me any wrong." But Ivan didn't want to leave the question unanswered, as he didn't know what this questionnaire was for and couldn't know if his answer was important or not. So he took a moment to ponder the question. "Barney is a character in a children's television program, yes? And Carrottop is an American comedian?" Here, he smiled strangely, and shifted his grip on the pipe. "Mmm, I suppose... yes, Carrottop, if I must choose."

3. What time is it where you are?

"It is a quarter after five." Ivan thought for a moment, then added, "Or at least, it was the last time I checked, in Moscow. I'm not so sure anymore." His fingers twitched to his pocket before he remembered that he had left his BlackBerry sitting on the kitchen counter. That meant that he had no way to contact his boss, or anyone else for that matter, and Ivan’s mood snapped from confused to alert in an instant.

This didn’t show on his face, of course. Still he smiled, though it was quite possible that the temperature in the room may have dropped a few degrees. Ivan did not like to be isolated.

4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.

...well. Ivan's cheeks colored just slightly, and he shuffled uncomfortably. This question was much more suitable for Francis, not for him. As he was shy and a bit embarrassed, his next answer was rather succinct. “I do not even know these people. I do not wish to harass any of them, whether as this Albus Dumbledore or myself.”

Not sexually, anyway. Ivan was always up for harassing people, and had no qualms about admitting this.

5. If you are pushing to be in:

A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.

The topic of bars reminded Ivan of something very important. Suddenly, almost panicked, he shifted his pipe into one hand to pat down his coat pockets. It was with much relief that he pulled out a half-empty bottle of crystal clear liquid, and he visibly relaxed as he took a long swig. Thank god. The loss of his phone was something he could deal with, but if he had left his vodka at home there would have been trouble.

Lips popping off the rim with a pleasant little pop, Ivan grinned to himself. Oh, yes, that was much better. “I would name it… Pervaya Molniya, I believe.”

B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.

More people he didn’t know. “Ah, which of these two does he love? Or… does he love both of them? Do they not return his feelings? Regardless, I do not see the problem. If he is having trouble deciding, he should just have both Fred and George live with him. He would be much happier that way, yes?”

This, of course, made perfect sense to Ivan. He beamed, pleased with himself.

C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.

“Perhaps your subordinates, or whoever it is that does your secretarial duties, are simply not doing their job properly.” Here Ivan’s smile shifted subtly, and his eyes lit up with a sort of cheerful amusement that would make the skin of those who knew him crawl. “Toris would overwork himself more often than not, and would occasionally forget to do my paperwork alongside his own. I found it always helped to talk with him when there was an issue.”

Not to mention the look on the poor Lithuanian’s face when confronted for slacking off was absolutely priceless.

D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.

It was most likely due to the good mood that talking about his previous charge put him in that Ivan didn’t take offense to the question. “I launched the first Earth-orbiting satellite, and sent the first man into space. I have suffered through many invasions and hardships, and still I am here, my culture and borders still intact.” He giggled once more, seemingly amused. “You may recall, if you've studied your history, that I also managed to win the battle of Stalingrad despite the overwhelming odds against me. ”

“Oh, and I am also where vodka was invented,” no matter how Feliks insisted otherwise, “and I have the world’s largest stockpile of nuclear weapons.” It’s impossible to tell which of these facts he is more proud of.

6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.

No threats, hmm? That certainly took the fun out of things. No, no, he could work with this. Ivan chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. "Do you like vodka? I have plenty of vodka. It's my fuel, you see." He played with the end of his scarf as he racked his brain for something else to offer. "I do have many other exports, or I could recite some poetry, if you're interested. I have always loved Zhukovsky's work, though... mmm, I suppose his poems can be rather lengthy. "

Suddenly he brightened, and a look of childish excitement lit up his face. “Ah, and if you’d like, or if you ever have need of a place to stay, my house is always open to guests. I would very much enjoy the company.”

"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. __Ryssland__
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. __La Russie__.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. __Rossiya__.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. __Russia__"

Comments

[3rd-retirement.livejournal.com]

The eyebrows went up at the answer to the Hufflepuff question. "I know some people who would love to talk to you," Mathis said. "For several reasons."

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

Thank goodness; he wasn't the only one here. Ivan didn't enjoy being alone, that was for certain.

Ivan smiled in a way that he certainly considered to be friendly. Not that anyone ever seemed to agree with him there. "Oh? What people, and for what reasons, if I may ask?"

[pullo-xiii.livejournal.com]

"Gerrae," breathed Pullo, eyes wide. "Sent men into space? Up there?" He waved one hand towards the heavens--towards the roof of the Sorting Room, anyway. "How'd you manage that, exactly?"

It had always been a subject that fascinated him. He knew now that it wasn't giant birds (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1435964.html?thread=72945980#t72945980) that were responsible for space travel and people from other planets being at Hogwarts, but he'd yet to meet someone from here, from Earth, who had gone up there. At least, not that they'd told him.

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

Ahh, space. That was a topic that Ivan greatly enjoyed, so he was only too happy to explain. It never once occurred to him to wonder how Pullo had managed to go through life without hearing about space travel.

"Yes, up there and all around. We send men up into space in rockets. Ah, big metal contraptions that keep them safe and breathing, that is. Fuel is released to fight gravity and push the rocket up from the Earth, and up and up, and... and it's really quite amazing," he finished, somewhat dreamily.

[gourmetchairman.livejournal.com]

"Oh? You are where vodka was invented? So you are another country?"

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

Another country? Ivan's face split into a grin that threatened to split his face in half. "Oh, there are others here? Excellent! I was afraid that I might be alone. Do you know which other countries are here?"

Maybe Yao was here, or his sisters. Or Toris! Though, really, he'd be happy to see any familiar face. Ivan extended his hand to Kaga, speaking rather fast in his excitement. "Yes, yes. Ja Rossiyskaya Federatsiya, or Russia. Ivan is just fine, though. Russia or Ivan, I don't care. Who might you be?"

[livingaustria.livejournal.com]

Austria stopped at the threshold.

Russia!

It wasn't so long ago (particularly for people like them) that Russia was seen as the enemy. Roderich could remember how Gilbert, Elizabeta, all the others suffered under him-how the Baltics are still unduly influenced by this unhinged country.

Not that Austria was afraid. He could even feel a little pity for the largest country in the world. After all, he wasn't always this bad. And having to go through all that-revolution, turning on his own people, all those winters, communism-would turn even the sanest country insane.

Still. It was wise to tread cautiously here.

"Hello Russia."

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

If Ivan noticed the unease that Roderich was displaying, he didn't show it. Instead, he beamed, and strode forward to clap a hand on the other country's shoulder. "Hello, Austria!" Because, apparently, they weren't on a human name basis. He'd just have to change that by being extra-friendly. "It's very good to see you. How have you been?"

[nordic-stoic.livejournal.com]

This was one of the few times Sweden meant his death glare.

"'van."

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

Dirty looks were nothing new to Ivan. He actually rather enjoyed them, even if distraught or troubled expressions were his favorite.

"Nice to see you again, Berwald," he returned pleasantly. "How is Tino doing~?"

[omg-sunflora.livejournal.com]

"Being around friends is good!" Sunflora agreed with Russia.

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

The ever-present smile slipped from Ivan's face, and he stared openly at Sunflora with wide, disbelieving eyes.

It was a sunflower.

A talking, moving, absolutely adorable sunflower.

He had to have it.

Ivan reached out, hesitantly, then changed his mind and pulled his hand to his chest. "You're... a sunflower." Stating the obvious, yes, but he was having a bit of trouble processing this information.

[smaug-thegolden.livejournal.com]

"What manner of poetry is that?" drawled the rather large, red-golden scaled dragon as he tilted his head, peering down at Ivan with one eye. (And while he possessed what might sound like a vaguely British accent, it would be a mistake to consider him one of England's.) "And what is vodka?" he asked, carefully pronouncing the unfamiliar word. Smaug tended to look imposing and ferocious simply by being what he was, combined with having facial features that weren't very expressive, though he was actually feeling unusually mellow at the moment. Hence why he was condescending to speak with someone other than his pet albino Melnibonéan.

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

Big, imposing, scary things never seemed to frighten Ivan, as he was, as others had told him, big, imposing, and scary himself. He was, however, very impressed, and amused at the novelty at having to look up at someone. And at this someone being a dragon. That was certainly different. "Vasily Zhukovsky was a poet in the early 1800s," he explained, "He introduced Romanticism into Russian literature. I really do enjoy his work, and his translations." Ivan thought for a moment, before reciting;

"Вихрем бедствия гонимый,
Без кормила и весла,
В океан неисходимый
Буря челн мой занесла.
В тучах звездочка светилась;
"Не скрывайся!" - я взывал;
Непреклонная сокрылась;
Якорь был - и тот пропал.

"That's just the beginning of his poem Пловец, or The Boatmen." He smiled fondly. "It's one of my favorites."

As for the second question... well, Ivan held the bottle he had drank from earlier up in offering, although he wasn't quite sure how Smaug could hold it. "Vodka is a distilled drink with a high alcohol content. It's very good. Would you like to try some?"

_{(OOC: The snippet of the poem translates as, if you're interested; Driven by misfortune's whirlwind/Having neither oar nor rudder/By a storm my bark was driven/Out upon the boundless sea/"midst black clouds a small star sparkled;/"Don't conceal yourself!" I cried;/But it disappeared, unheeding;/And my anchor was lost, too.)}

[i-am-an-hero.livejournal.com]

A had met some of the other anthropomorphized countries, so he wasn't totally shocked to encounter another one. This one certainly made him les skittish than France had!

"I don't know either of those cheeses," he said, sounding both apologetic and curious. "How are they used?"

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

"They're both used mainly in cooking. Tvorog can be put into just about anything; appetizers, salads, desserts. Personally, I enjoy it most in grechnevaya kasha, a porridge, and blinchiki, a sort of pancake. Mmm, I don't have bryndza as much, but I've had pirogi with bryndza sauce before that was really good."

While he certainly liked discussing his food and culture, Ivan's attention span wasn't terribly long. He hummed a short tune, and smiled at A. "You have my name, but I don't believe that I have yours. What should I call you?"

[serrulata.livejournal.com]

"When it comes to your exports," Kurama said conversationally, seeming to materialize at the door, "I have always had a fondness for Fabergé eggs, if so dross a term as 'export' can be applied to any of them." Not that he would dare ask for one in a bribe. When it came to such magnificent works of art, the only way to attain them would be through theft or glorious amounts of money. Artwork to him never worked as a bribe. There were, after all, standards to maintain.

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

"They're quite beautiful, aren't they?" Even if they made him think of the Romanov family, which in turn made him think of their murder in 1918. It wasn't a pleasant memory, and Ivan shifted the folds of his scarf around his face to hide the fact that he was agitated.

"A-ah, I would offer one to you as a bribe, but I'm afraid the only one that I personally possess was a gift, and I'm unwilling to part with it."

[elegantsamurai.livejournal.com]

Yukimura rested against the wall of the Sorting Room. "I have not found vodka superior to sake, though I've recently had a black vodka (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1851694.html?thread=102651694#t102651694") that was rather interesting, were it not for the red stuff with it," he said with a smile.

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

Ivan shrugged noncommittally, smiling. "It's not for everyone, I suppose. I don't think that I could live without it, myself. I adore it." Black vodka, on the other hand, just seemed like a sin against nature. He wouldn't comment on that. " And, ah, red stuff? Do you know what it was?"

[superfraternal.livejournal.com]

Simon decided that some parts of Ivan Braginski's application -- the part where he said he'd launched the first satellite, for example, and the part about owning the world's largest stockpile of nuclear weapons -- must be meant in a figurative sense. The man carried himself with the authority of an executive; he must be highly placed in his country's government, and as such, spoke intimately of its holdings.

Carrying around a water pipe ... well, perhaps Ivan had simply been called away in the middle of some household crisis? Surely it wasn't meant as a weapon ...?

Regardless, Simon could deal with government people. In fact, he felt a lot more confident and comfortable dealing with people on an official level than trying to hold up casual conversation. He laid aside the application he'd been reading and offered Ivan a hand to shake.

"Ivan Braginski? I'm Dr. Simon Tam. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

Ivan occasionally forgot that the nature of his existence was not information that civilians had access to. As it was the only life he had ever known, he saw nothing at all strange about any of his answers.

This man was polite, and he appreciated that. No one else had bothered to introduce themselves. Ivan took the offered hand in his own firm (possibly too firm) grip, pumping it up and down enthusiastically. "Mmm, yes, it's nice to meet you, Dr. Tam! Though I am curious; what am I supposed to be doing here?"

While he wasn't shaking Simon's hand any longer, Ivan had yet to release it. It wasn't so much a conscious decision as it was he simply didn't think to let go.

[precisely-split.livejournal.com]

Recently Chiri decided that as part as her duty as the Bitchiwitch prefect, she should try to welcome new 'students'. Her school reformation plans are put on hold for the time being as she can't seem to find Death-kun around anywhere, so she must busy herself some other way.

Wearing her red, crablike hat and holding her shovel with both hands, the hat being her badge and the shovel for protection against potential enemies, Chiri enters the sorting room. She had been patrolling the area when she noticed the new arrival and carefully read through his application.

"Your answer for question 5-C; do you believe that it could be the superior not doing his or her job properly by allowing the subordinates to slack off?" Chiri approved of his answer, but she is also interested in hearing it to another perspective. Is he the kind of leader that does not take responsibility, or does he just shove all of it onto his subordinates?

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

Ivan noticed the shovel, and felt an instant like for this girl. He made sure that he wasn't holding his pipe in a threatening manner, as he had no desire to get in a fight today. But he still kept his grip on it, just in case Chiri attacked first.

Now this was a topic that Ivan was quite passionate about. "Oh, no, no. Of course it's not the subordinate's fault! When a child misbehaves, isn't it up to the parents to punish them and show them the right way to do things? You can't expect them to get everything right all the time. They shouldn't be slacking off, of course, but you shouldn't be letting them."

And Ivan didn't let his subordinates slack off. Just ask any of the countries who had lived under his rule.

[scouts-dishonor.livejournal.com]

"So, are you an asshole like the Heavy? I mean, the dude thinks he's so badass, and he can't even tie his own shoelaces! He's all, 'HAHAHA, I KEEL LEETLE BABIEZ!'" Scout mocked in a fake Russian accent, that when mixed with his Boston one made the whole thing painful on the ears.

"You don't like sandwiches, do you?"

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

...there were so many things both wrong and offensive with what just happened that Ivan didn't know what to do.

He settled with letting his smile grow wider and a good deal less pleasant, though his voice retained its cheerful sweetness. "I don't know who the Heavy is, and I certainly am not an asshole. At least, I don't believe myself to be." Alfred may have called him that several times in the past, but that didn't make it true. Very little of what Alfred said had any real facts backing it, after all.

"They're... not my favorite food item, but I don't dislike sandwiches. What do sandwiches have to do with anything?"

[weaponized-love.livejournal.com]

"You've seen a lot of war, then," he says. "How did you do it? I mean, strength of arms and stubborness, but how did you prevent your morale from breakin' like an empty bottle on pavement?"

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

"Mmm, I suppose I have." Both as a nation and personally. It was always difficult to sit back and watch his people march off to battle, and more often than not Ivan found himself fighting alongside them. War was just a part of life for him.

He considered the question with a thoughtful expression. "Well, I couldn't give up when my people were counting on me, could I? I would do anything for them." A pause, and then he smiled widely. "Oh, and it always helped to imagine the looks on my opponent's face when I destroyed them."

[best-guitarist.livejournal.com]

"Vodka ams a pretties good bribe, actually," Skwisgaar said by way of greeting Ivan. The Swede guitarist was close to six and a half feet tall, making him one of a few human(oid) residents of Hogwarts taller than Russia assuming the wiki (http://hetalia.wikia.com/wiki/Ivan_Braginski) has Ivan's correct height. "But whys woulds we wants to stays at your house? Ams it a brutal house with lots of free vodka? Dats would be cool."

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

This made it twice today that Ivan found himself speaking with someone taller than him, even if the first person happened to have been a dragon. Giggling to himself, he took another drink from his bottle. "I certainly thought so. Good stuff, isn't it?"

"I don't know about it being that 'brutal' of a house," he admitted, shrugging. "but yes, there's lots of free vodka." Ivan made sure to have plenty in all corners of the house at all times. The world did not want to see him without at least some vodka in his system.

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

The hat perched on Ivan's head at a njaunty angle, and, in an awful rendition of Ivan's native accent, it said, "So... You are saying you have 'nuclear wessels?'" The hat had clearly been watching some unspecified but probably awful movies.

[znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com]

So the Sorting Hat was an actual hat.

Ivan reached up, fingers glancing the hat's wide brim curiously. He felt no irritation at the butchered attempt to mimic his accent, too distracted by trying to figure out how it worked to be offended. "Ah, yes, I do. Lots of them."

Hufflepuff!

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

Your bribe has been accepted.

Welcome to Hufflepuff.