This is what I'm using for Russia's accent
w's turn into v's
v's turn into f's
g's turn into k's
d's turn into t's
th turns into s or z
The tall Russian sighed shakily., looking up at the white-grey sky. He was weary of it.
Weary of war.
War. A game he had had enough of.
Sitting down on a fallen tree, he blew gently on his cold fingers. They ached from holding the barrel of a frozen gun.
How many had he killed today? To many, many of them barely out of boyhood.
The Russian stared at his hard, calloused fingers. They were clean, but to him, they dripped thick crimson blood.
A sudden hacking coughing fit racked his body, making his broad shoulders shake.
Why was he still alive? He was half dead and sick. Many other healthy, lively men had fallen, and yet he continued to live on.
"Ton't kive up Ivan. Zere are many more still alive. Kill sem."
Ivan shuddered, he knew that voice. It was one he both welcomed and despised.
"I'm tired of it."
Silence. Ivan could feel the cold, ice of the General's breath against his back.
"Vhat do you vant out of your existence?"
Ivan looked up at the older man, his violet eyes narrowed. Was it a trick question? or did he really want to know?
"A friend, some one who von't see me as a killer."
The General stared for a moment, his white hair swirling in the harsh winds that always seemed to follow him. Then he turned and vanished it a puff of snow.
Ivan sighed and returned to the task of warming his fingers.
Just like the damned old man. All smoke and mirrors.
You watched silently as your father stormed into the small cabin where you lived. The cape he wore making a crisp smacking sound as he whipped it off, throwing it to the floor.
"GOD DAMN IT!!!"
He growled, slamming both fists against the cabin wall. Ice shot up from the points of contact, covering the wall.
Swearing a blue streak he proceeded to storm about the cabin. You sat on the single cot in the room, your sketchbooks scattered about you.
General Winter stopped in front of you and sighed. His eyes showed a hint of compassion as he stared at you.
"I am sorry for sat outburst of anger _________."
You nodded silently and gave him a quick smile. The General smiled tiredly, then sighed again.
"I need you to vatch over him _______. I vill take care of sose he didn't kill."
You nodded again, picking up a brand new empty sketch book.
You sat nestled in the snow, watching him as your father had requested. The piece of coal held in your fingers scratched across the paper.
You looked up and froze.
He was gone. You had been to busy shading the picture to notice!
"Vat are you drawing?"
Warm breath against your neck. You shuddered from the feeling and looked up.
It was him. The man your father protected.
Blushing you looked back at the picture, trying your best to ignore him. Your father had only asked you to watch him, there was no need to interact with him.
What was his name anyway?
Ivo....no that didn't sound right. Ian? no.....IVAN! That was it!
You glanced up at him again, and smiled at his nose. It was almost cartoonishly large. He noticed your smile and gave you a tentative smile back.
"You aren't from around here are you?"
You shrugged in answer, Ivan nodded turning his attention back to the sketch of a branch.
You continued drawing, trying to ignore his presence.
Hopefully your father would be back soon and you could go back home. Go back to being alone, just the way you liked it.
As if he had heard your thoughts, The General was suddenly in front of you, a hand on your shoulder.
"You can leave now."
Nodding you stood and headed for home.
Ivan stared at the General, eyes narrowed.
"Who vas she?"
General Winter's face darkened, "Someone you vould be vise to leave alone."
Ivan felt his lips twitch. So, someone the old bastard had feelings for. Huh, in all the years he had know him, this was the first time Ivan had learned something about the old man's life.
After the General had left, Ivan started off in the direction the girl had gone.
Maybe she would be enough to get the old man to leave him alone.
You sat on the cot, twirling a pencil between your fingers. At the moment, you were trying to draw Ivan. You had only caught a few glimpses of him, so you were starting to have some trouble.
A light knock on the cabin door. You looked up, tense.
Your father had no need to knock, so who had come to pay a visit?
Before you could do anything, the door swung open slowly and Ivan stepped in. His broad shoulders covered in a light dusting of snow. Ivan stood for a moment in the doorway, then came in shutting the door behind him.
"Vat is your relationship vis General Vinter?"
You held back a sigh and refrained from rolling your eyes. Holding out your hand, you let blue-white ice form letters on your palm.
'He is my Father.'
Ivan raised a thin silver brow and crossed his arms. You just stared, admiring his childish, yet intimidating form.
"Sat makes you.....?"
'Ice, but can call me ______.'
Ivan nodded, still staring. You stared back, a surprising thought crossing your mind.
Maybe he has no friends. Maybe that's why Father watches over him.
Holding up your hand again, you formed another message on your palm.
'Want to be friends?'
Ivan's eyes widened, then filled with tears. He whipped them away roughly and nodded.
"S-sat vould be nice."
Before you could form a response, he rushed over, pulling you into his arms. After a moment, you hugged him back, smiling.
It would be nice to finally have a friend, even if your father would try to kill him for touching you.