Post by srbjia on Jan 16, 2013 23:33:53 GMT -5
My Reflection
Nation:
Cyrillic: Република Србија
Latinized: Republika Srbija
English: The Republic of Serbia
Name: Snezana Bodnia/Снежана Бодниа
Gender: Female
Appearance Age: 21
Actual Age:
UNKNOWN. A Belaserbia (Unbaptized or White Serbia) existed for some time, but the dates are unknown, subject to mythos and folklore. So instead I make said nation Serbia's vaguely established mother, that she often pictures in her mind.
680: The first ever "Pure-Serb" states Raška, Bosnia, Duklja, Pagania, Travunia and Zahumlje emerge under Byzantium control.
2006: The Independent Republic of Serbia.
Appearance
Hair Color: White
Eye Color: Reddish
Height: 180 CM (5 feet and nine inches)
Weight:I tried to ask her, but she beat me up.
Appearance:
Defining Features:
Serbia usually has a blank expression, unless she's overflowing with joy. This stoic trait comes more from feeling uncomfortable revealing her emotions, rather than simply being hardened by time. However, being female in the Hetalia world is sometimes enough to stand out in a large crowd.
Who Am I?
Personality:[/color]
Much unlike her Slavic brethren, Serbia often refrains from speaking her mind. She's occasionally seen as aloof and elitist in demeanor, as such most aren't too well acquainted with her. Moreover, the majority of her own family don't really know her too well, either. That said, good terms with most of her family; she's just hard to read and understand.
She longs for interaction, although doesn't often have the nerve to engage in conversation with someone new. So while she's very literate, and well educated, she's hardly the most social. Her interests in science and sports have molded her into a reasonably intelligent, but also athletic woman. She is an insomniac; so nights are a bit hard on her. While far from an alcoholic, she enjoys an occasional drink, which makes her more open with people, instead of hiding her feelings as she usually does.
She is often considered shy, although she can be cruel if you get on her bad side. She's mostly desensitized to the atrocities of this world, so most don't see her bad side at all. She's reasonably accepted by the world for who she is, but her best friend would have to be Liechtenstein. She has a less-than-secret desire to reunite with Kosovo, though not for the reasons most think.
Serbia is used to keeping her thoughts to herself. Be it when she was part of the Ottoman Empire, or when her short-lived independence was ended abruptly. She is very good, as a result, at taking orders from others, and fights just as vigilantly as countries double her size and population.
The world turned on Serbia at the end of the last century. While still united as Yugoslavia, Serbia was set as a target, and attacked fiercely for
many days due to disputes over Kosovo, and for some very harsh allegations of genocide. This took a huge change in Serbia, and her level of trust with much of the world lowered significantly. Though she won't admit it, she was thoroughly beaten and bruised, both physically and mentally. Her pride was crushed, and she's now less than an ideal level of confident in herself. So while she still has a strong sense of tactics, she doesn't see herself as much a leader as a loner. Kosovo became free, and few support her in a reunification.
The relationship between the two is rocky at best, but they are still a family, and Serbia deeply cares about Kosovo's well being. Even though it was Kosovo who actually betrayed her most, Serbia never even considered distrusting Kosovo, though she doesn't really consider Kosovo it's own nation, either.
Recently Serbia declared her own independence, feeling free to be herself for the first time in nearly a hundred years.
Overall, she's a very friendly girl when you get to meet her. She does have a darker side, but only if she doesn't like someone. She cannot stand sarcasm, mostly due to the fact that she finds it degrading.
Likes:
Dislikes:
Fears:
Fun Facts:
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Your History
927 - The Royal Prince Časlav Klonimirović-Vlastimirović liberated Raška from Bulgaria Serbia is now one state.
1034 - The Vojislavljević dynasty claims the Serbian throne of Duklja. Duklja becomes the first realm of Serbia.
1054 - The East-West Schism split. Most Serbians opt for Orthodoxy.
1189 - Serbia allies with the Holy Roman Empire during the Third Crusade. Because of this, Kosovo and Northern Macedonia are easily taken by Serbia from the Greeks.
1217 - Stefan Nemanjić is crowned the first King of Serbia by Pope Honorius III. This establishes the second realm of Serbia.
1342 - Serbia conquers most of Byzantium. The Second Serbian Realm becomes the largest state in South and Eastern Europe respectively.
1388 - A very major battle in Bileca. This battle was easily won by Serbia, however, because of this loss the Ottomans have learnt how to fight against heavy Serb cavalry. This leads into the next battle's outcome.
1389 - Serbia exhausts all resources fending off the Ottoman Empire at the Battle of Kosovo. While technically a stalemate, this led to the absorption of of the Serbian Empire by the Ottoman Turks, as both leaders died, and Serbia had nobody sufficient to take over. The Order of the Dragon is left with 1 knight. Serbia soon after becomes a part of the Ottoman Empire for hundreds of years.
1817 - Serbia becomes autonomous principality.
1878 - Serbian independence recognized by international treaties.
1918 - Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes formed after World War I.
1929 - Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes renamed Kingdom of Yugoslavia.
1945 - Together with Slovenia, Macedonia, Croatia, Bosnia and Montenegro, Serbia becomes one of republics in new Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia under Josip Broz Tito.
1987 - Senior Serbian Communist Party official Slobodan Milosevic
visits Kosovo, tells Serbs protesting against alleged harassment by majority Albanian community that no-one would ever be allowed to beat them. The speech comes to be seen as a rallying cry for Serb nationalism.
1992 - Montenegro and Serbia form Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. Rising nationalist and independence aspirations bring bloody conflict with Croats and Bosnian Muslims.
UN imposes sanctions on Federal Republic of Yugoslavia.
1995 - Dayton accords bring end to Bosnian war. Sanctions lifted.
1997 - Milosevic becomes Yugoslav president.
1998 - Kosovo Liberation Army rebels against Serbian rule. Serb forces launch brutal crackdown. Hundreds of thousands of Kosovo Albanians flee.
1999 - NATO bombs Serbia for much of the year during Kosovo conflict.
2000 - Milosevic accused of rigging presidential election win against Vojislav Kostunica. Mass street demonstrations ensue. Protesters storm parliament. Milosevic quits. Mr Kostunica sworn in as president.Federal Republic of Yugoslavia joins UN.
Reformist alliance wins Serbian legislative elections by a landslide. Zoran Djindjic goes on to become Serbian prime minister.
2001 - Kostunica's Democratic Party of Serbia pulls out of Serbian government as the split with Djindjic deepens.
2002 - Trial of Slobodan Milosevic on charges of genocide and war crimes begins in The Hague.
2003 - Serbian Prime Minister Zoran Djindjic assassinated in Belgrade.
2006 - Serbia and Montenegro flag is lowered as their short-lived union ends.
2006 - Slobodan Milosevic found dead in his cell in The Hague during his ongoing trial for war-crimes.
2006 - NATO admits Serbia to its Partnership for Peace pre-membership program.
2008 - Serbia angrily rejects Kosovo's bid for full sovereignty
Sample Post
I'll kill ALL of you bastards... Once I'm done here... I'll..."
So suddenly as she had decided she would massacre these innocent girls, these girls she hadn't even been able to meet honorably, and look in the eyes, did an eerie sentiment force her to succumb to her instinct. She froze mid-sentence, and could not budge from the surmounting feeling, the sensibility that she was known for.
The inability for a nation to possess solicitude was the very thing that Serbia abhorred most in this world. From her time spent under the Ottoman Empire, to the travesties that had happened so suddenly in the past. Defending Astrit, during the battle of Kosovo. She exhausted all of her resources to defend him, but it would have proved all for naught, for the mighty Ottoman Empire had held his ground, even though she fought as well as possible. They had become slaves, students, and expendable all at once. For many long and dreadful years, she had been forced to take orders from another, and no matter how much she would try and repress such hellish memories, they haunted her. Were the long-lost souls of the departed now hoping for this tragedy to turn into their sick and twisted comedy?
Even later, still, when the world fell into darkness, and the nations had faced a World War by her hands, a simple dispute with Austria having ascended rapidly into a conflict that would shape the course of history. Her ability was without question exceptionable when she was called upon to fight. However, this very conflict created a wound that still felt fresh to her. Her strength had never fully recovered from this conflict. It was not something that was easily noticed, at least not for awhile. A short-lived peace was once again interrupted by evil. An evil that well more than matched the creatures within this inescapable hell, this inmeasurable pandemonium.
Losing wars was one thing... Losing a part of herself... A part of herself that she risked her life for was another. Astrit's seeking of independence; this was something that uprooted years of suppressed emotions, and was what she thought to be an unparalleled anguish. His unrelenting effort and his many allies proved too much for her to repel. This was a mortifying moment in her history, for the had finally seen that she had much more to learn. A silent vow, sewn together with flowing tears. She would not allow him to face dangers anymore. She would patiently await his return, and welcome him back in a merciful, sympathetic gesture. Just as her first deceleration of independence from Ottoman Turkey was premature, so would be this decision to revoke his Serbian pride, and to seek his own fate.
These memories, this ancient history... None of it mattered in this place. Everyone was equal here, and everyone wanted to leave. She had promised herself many times in her youth that she would never under any circumstance lower herself to such levels of apathy and narcissism as to kill for one's selfish desires and pursuits, but the situation at hand was testing her youthful hopes and desires of fairness in a world of lies and delusions. She wanted to save Astrit more than anything else, but the boy was likely in his own perilous "game" as the sickening inhabitants had referred to it. Her promise to always protect him was already broken. She had nothing more to lose.
Snezana was shaking. This was actually happening. There were two others who were staring her down, two others which wanted nothing more than to simply leave without incident. Unfortunately, the mesh flooring that while stable, could not likely be trusted, held below creatures starving with deprivation. Their noises were enough to send chills down her spine alone, disregarding their sheer number and that this was her alternative. A slow and painful death, being mutilated and devoured by such barbarous fiends. They'd not only make her a meal, but their clammy, viscous jaws would very likely be the most unpleasant sensation that she could ever perceive. This was no alternative, this was merely dry humor at its finest.
She peered up once more, her eyes glowing mildly. An instantaneous gander into the eyes of her opponents would not suffice. She would need to see her enemy, to use what she knew against them. She knew much, many reclusive hours spent researching, and meditation, as a reflection upon her thoughts and feelings towards her scientific treks. Learning to add thought and rebuttal to theories that seemed to be replaced ever so often gave her an advantage to blindly following any belief, or using any outdated tactics. To know your opponent is to know your destiny.
The first girl she had noticed was the darker-skinned girl. She was an obviously latina nation. While her knowledge of said nations was less than that of those around her, she could tell that it was most likely Mexico, her resemblance to the ancients that inhabited those noble lands was impeccable. She was very much beautiful, albeit dirty. Her golden-brown hair was smooth and well cared for, something that brought out a mild sense of nostalgia into Snezana. She had holstered to herself what appeared to be a larger knife, of some kind. From the distance, she was worried it would have been a bowie knife, or a machete. Those things were deadly, and could pierce her a vulture seeking its fallen prey. Mexico was a reasonably difficult place to live, so naturally she would be anything but incompetent. She would prove to be worthy foe, one that would not fall easily. She had her family, and she had her values.
'How could I deprive her of her own salvation, for the sake of a country who stands at the edge constantly, always close to conflict... This girl, who only ever defended her own land without too much international quarrel...'
Hesitating, Snezana averted her eyes from the young maiden. There was another that she would have to face in lethal combat. It only took her one glance to see the French in her, at very least a strong, natural beauty that's associated with him. A thorough visual examination confirmed that she was undoubtedly his kin. It took longer to identify her, but Serbia was convinced that it must be Monaco. She was an elegant optimist that most often avoided conflict. In normal circumstance, she would easily defeat her in battle. However, with her powers as a nation being revoked, replaced with a false sense of humanity, the entire equation was different. This was not a sign that would bode well. This young tenacious lady would likely prove to be even more dangerous than Mexico, if not just because nobody would have any idea what to expect from her. Her eyes resembled Astrit's own. She did not appear to have had ever slain another nation, much less many people. Snezana would not discount this mysterious, tiny girl.
'They're both so young... And they're both so beautiful.'
Against her better judgement, Serbia examined her weapon closer. It was very pricey, and very exceptionable... For playing tennis. It was no knife, it could not pierce the skin so easily at all. As she doubted her situation, Snezana's grip gradually tightened. Her thoughts were focused upon the possibility of the knife possibly going right through the strings and into her face, arms, or torso. An unpleasant thought, quickly replaced by flashes of Kosovo trembling, crawling to her for support, begging for assistance. She almost hear his afraid voice clearly, echoing inside of her head, throughout this maddening room.
"I don't want to feel this cold embrace... I don't want to suffer anymore, Snezana...nobody wants to. I don't like this awful feeling... I'm fed up with being weak... Don't leave alone me in this darkness... Why did you let them get me after you promised to keep me safe..."
Snezana closed her eyes, embracing a somber silence. The feeling of melancholy reinforced with visual imagery of his potential demise. Her emotions getting the better of her, tears began flowing, much like raindrops upon the serene lilies in her homeland.
'Astrit... After this is all over... Maybe I prepare some Gibanica* with you, teach you how to make it yourself... No... We'll absolutely do it! I won't be stopped... And this is your chance to prove your deceleration of independence held some merit... I'll... Remember... What Turkey taught me...'
Indeed, she remembered what would be one of the more important lessons that Turkey ever taught her, while she was young and foolish. Turkey had taught her that combat is much more a mental concept, rather than physical. If she held any laments, she would be defeated. If she cringed at the thought of combat, she would be defeated. If she hesitated in the heart of a fight, she would be defeated. Moreover, if she could clear her mind of any distractions, only then would she reach her fullest potential. She couldn't cry, nor could she hold feelings of remorse.
Focus. Focus. As Snezana concentrated all of her energy into clearing her mind of anything that could be seen as a hindrance, when she heard something that sounded like a blade, probably Mexico's, being unsheathed. This was going to happen, and soon. Unaware exactly of how one clear's her mind that was so used to running amok all over the place, clustering with wishes, hopes, and seemingly random thoughts, Serbia decided that it must have been a metaphor. Opening her eyes, hesitation having vanished, Snezana stared down her Mexican adversary, free of worries or regrets about what would soon take place. So suddenly and unexpectedly, she lowered her weapon into it's sheath.
“It is inevitable.”
Snezana squinted her eyes, trying intently to understand what the girl was going on about. Was she going to state the obvious severity of the situation? Or was she throwing in the towel? Either way, she discounted this statement as an unexpected, minor development. Her seemingly distant voice wasn't helping her in getting her point into the light, much less across it.
“We will not survive these beasts. A single drop of blood drives them crazy.”
Mexico was trembling and sighing with this added note. She had not yet been able to accept that they were simply puppets in a game. It was understandable, but it was a weakness. She showed her terror in its truest form. They all very well had expected that this would be a much different situation, being pitted against some method of beast that, while much more dangerous than any of them, would make for a more humane kill. This was the precipice of tension. Everyone had to be afraid, and everyone had to have shame in the idea of killing for another's sport alone. There was no respite, no light at the end of this tunnel. Victory was merely delaying the inevitable. The beasts were not the problem, the problem was the matter at hand yielding no rewards, no hope for anything, except hiding out in that damned manor.
Yes, Serbia had a plan for escape, but it was a long shot at best. There was a hope in escape, in a revival of the days long forgotten that kept her going. This was not a thought to relinquish, but to savor. This was her motivation. The possibility of normalcy was more than enough for her to wish to save Kosovo, to help poor Astrit reach his bed and to find his well deserved rest. She had planned to free each and everyone who was enticed into going to that forsaken party, just as she had. There would be at very least, two less that she could free. At least, free from the manor physically. The other two would be free in a spiritual manner. Was it a good alternative? Snezana could only hope that they would understand, that she was no beast in a cage any longer.
“You understand this, don’t you?”
It was difficult to try and understand a situation that was filled with such anguish and solemn tears. Serbia looked over, noticing that Monaco had been just standing there, trying to pull herself together and likely form her own course of action. Without a word, but with a very likely plethora of thoughts and her own concerns, all understandable and valid, most likely. Serbia stared back towards Mexico, noting a change in her. She seemed crushed, as if it finally clicked inside of her that this situation would require everything they had. It would be disrespectful to hold back, as they all had loved ones and even their own rivals that would be heart broken by their passing.
“Two must die so one can live. You see it, don’t you? You understand. Two. Must. Die.”
Hearing it spoken was more difficult than one would think. Within the safety of just your own mind, it can be filtered and sorted as necessity. Hearing the panicking voices of another with the same concerns was a larger, much more difficult wall to ascend over. She couldn't listen to this much longer, her humanity was beginning to overshadow her pride and restraint.
“One must kill the others. There’s no way around this. If we refuse we all die. I want you two to know, that it was never in my intention to want to kill you. I do not want to kill you.”
That was it. She exposed her hesitation. Even if momentary, she exposed her weakness, and it was nigh time to fight. Shuffling over to the left, away from the center chandelier, Snezana eyed both of her opponents, tightening the grip upon her tennis racquet noticeably. Her focus was undaunting, and her resolve was clear. As Mexico had just put it, one would have to kill the others in her own way. Serbia herself planned upon a victory, but a defeat was not the worst possible alternative They were simply being controlled by the higher-ups in this hell. If they wanted a show, she would give it to them.
With a final peek towards each of her opponents, and safely out of range of the chandelier's path, never knowing what could happen in the art of combat being a large plus, Snezana tightened her guard. Yes, they were helpless to change their situation, lest they become food for the most vile creatures beneath them. However, Snezana knew something that most didn't... Even the most helpless slave, when treated like a dog, had their own fangs to bare.
"If you want to give up, don't. It's insulting to me, to you, and to your loved ones. Gvožđe se kuje dok je vruće."**
*Gibanica
**Gvožđe se kuje dok je vruće = Iron is worked when it's still ablaze. Meaning, strike when the opportunity is right, even if it's not safe.
(Astrit being this Kosovo's name)
The Player
Name: Kseniya
Age: 21
Fun Fact: My motto is Cake.
Nation:
Cyrillic: Република Србија
Latinized: Republika Srbija
English: The Republic of Serbia
Name: Snezana Bodnia/Снежана Бодниа
Gender: Female
Appearance Age: 21
Actual Age:
UNKNOWN. A Belaserbia (Unbaptized or White Serbia) existed for some time, but the dates are unknown, subject to mythos and folklore. So instead I make said nation Serbia's vaguely established mother, that she often pictures in her mind.
680: The first ever "Pure-Serb" states Raška, Bosnia, Duklja, Pagania, Travunia and Zahumlje emerge under Byzantium control.
2006: The Independent Republic of Serbia.
Appearance
Hair Color: White
Eye Color: Reddish
Height: 180 CM (5 feet and nine inches)
Weight:
Appearance:
Defining Features:
Serbia usually has a blank expression, unless she's overflowing with joy. This stoic trait comes more from feeling uncomfortable revealing her emotions, rather than simply being hardened by time. However, being female in the Hetalia world is sometimes enough to stand out in a large crowd.
Who Am I?
Personality:[/color]
Much unlike her Slavic brethren, Serbia often refrains from speaking her mind. She's occasionally seen as aloof and elitist in demeanor, as such most aren't too well acquainted with her. Moreover, the majority of her own family don't really know her too well, either. That said, good terms with most of her family; she's just hard to read and understand.
She longs for interaction, although doesn't often have the nerve to engage in conversation with someone new. So while she's very literate, and well educated, she's hardly the most social. Her interests in science and sports have molded her into a reasonably intelligent, but also athletic woman. She is an insomniac; so nights are a bit hard on her. While far from an alcoholic, she enjoys an occasional drink, which makes her more open with people, instead of hiding her feelings as she usually does.
She is often considered shy, although she can be cruel if you get on her bad side. She's mostly desensitized to the atrocities of this world, so most don't see her bad side at all. She's reasonably accepted by the world for who she is, but her best friend would have to be Liechtenstein. She has a less-than-secret desire to reunite with Kosovo, though not for the reasons most think.
Serbia is used to keeping her thoughts to herself. Be it when she was part of the Ottoman Empire, or when her short-lived independence was ended abruptly. She is very good, as a result, at taking orders from others, and fights just as vigilantly as countries double her size and population.
The world turned on Serbia at the end of the last century. While still united as Yugoslavia, Serbia was set as a target, and attacked fiercely for
many days due to disputes over Kosovo, and for some very harsh allegations of genocide. This took a huge change in Serbia, and her level of trust with much of the world lowered significantly. Though she won't admit it, she was thoroughly beaten and bruised, both physically and mentally. Her pride was crushed, and she's now less than an ideal level of confident in herself. So while she still has a strong sense of tactics, she doesn't see herself as much a leader as a loner. Kosovo became free, and few support her in a reunification.
The relationship between the two is rocky at best, but they are still a family, and Serbia deeply cares about Kosovo's well being. Even though it was Kosovo who actually betrayed her most, Serbia never even considered distrusting Kosovo, though she doesn't really consider Kosovo it's own nation, either.
Recently Serbia declared her own independence, feeling free to be herself for the first time in nearly a hundred years.
Overall, she's a very friendly girl when you get to meet her. She does have a darker side, but only if she doesn't like someone. She cannot stand sarcasm, mostly due to the fact that she finds it degrading.
Likes:
- Drinking. On occasion.
- Tennis.
The best tennis player in the world is Serbian, after all. - Plums, they are the national flower of Serbia, and very delicious when ripen.
Dislikes:
- Sarcasm.
- Kosovo developing an independent streak.
- A rather strong dislike for Albania. Though, even though sometimes this is just seen as playful rivalry, tensions are heightened always.
Fears:
- Bombs, bombings, grenades, and Ottoman characteristics.
- The possibility that Kosovo won't come back. This is a big one.
- The feeling that those around her will meet a fate similar to that of the USSR or Yugoslavia, especially herself.
Fun Facts:
- Serbia carries around a very pretty Basket-Hilted Sword, or a Shiavona, an Italian renaissance piece. It was a gift from the "Second Serbia".
- Serbia has a scar on her left leg. It's just a cut, but it represents the loss of nationalism from Kosovo, a very significant area in Serbian culture.
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Your History
927 - The Royal Prince Časlav Klonimirović-Vlastimirović liberated Raška from Bulgaria Serbia is now one state.
1034 - The Vojislavljević dynasty claims the Serbian throne of Duklja. Duklja becomes the first realm of Serbia.
1054 - The East-West Schism split. Most Serbians opt for Orthodoxy.
1189 - Serbia allies with the Holy Roman Empire during the Third Crusade. Because of this, Kosovo and Northern Macedonia are easily taken by Serbia from the Greeks.
1217 - Stefan Nemanjić is crowned the first King of Serbia by Pope Honorius III. This establishes the second realm of Serbia.
1342 - Serbia conquers most of Byzantium. The Second Serbian Realm becomes the largest state in South and Eastern Europe respectively.
1388 - A very major battle in Bileca. This battle was easily won by Serbia, however, because of this loss the Ottomans have learnt how to fight against heavy Serb cavalry. This leads into the next battle's outcome.
1389 - Serbia exhausts all resources fending off the Ottoman Empire at the Battle of Kosovo. While technically a stalemate, this led to the absorption of of the Serbian Empire by the Ottoman Turks, as both leaders died, and Serbia had nobody sufficient to take over. The Order of the Dragon is left with 1 knight. Serbia soon after becomes a part of the Ottoman Empire for hundreds of years.
1817 - Serbia becomes autonomous principality.
1878 - Serbian independence recognized by international treaties.
1918 - Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes formed after World War I.
1929 - Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes renamed Kingdom of Yugoslavia.
1945 - Together with Slovenia, Macedonia, Croatia, Bosnia and Montenegro, Serbia becomes one of republics in new Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia under Josip Broz Tito.
1987 - Senior Serbian Communist Party official Slobodan Milosevic
visits Kosovo, tells Serbs protesting against alleged harassment by majority Albanian community that no-one would ever be allowed to beat them. The speech comes to be seen as a rallying cry for Serb nationalism.
1992 - Montenegro and Serbia form Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. Rising nationalist and independence aspirations bring bloody conflict with Croats and Bosnian Muslims.
UN imposes sanctions on Federal Republic of Yugoslavia.
1995 - Dayton accords bring end to Bosnian war. Sanctions lifted.
1997 - Milosevic becomes Yugoslav president.
1998 - Kosovo Liberation Army rebels against Serbian rule. Serb forces launch brutal crackdown. Hundreds of thousands of Kosovo Albanians flee.
1999 - NATO bombs Serbia for much of the year during Kosovo conflict.
2000 - Milosevic accused of rigging presidential election win against Vojislav Kostunica. Mass street demonstrations ensue. Protesters storm parliament. Milosevic quits. Mr Kostunica sworn in as president.Federal Republic of Yugoslavia joins UN.
Reformist alliance wins Serbian legislative elections by a landslide. Zoran Djindjic goes on to become Serbian prime minister.
2001 - Kostunica's Democratic Party of Serbia pulls out of Serbian government as the split with Djindjic deepens.
2002 - Trial of Slobodan Milosevic on charges of genocide and war crimes begins in The Hague.
2003 - Serbian Prime Minister Zoran Djindjic assassinated in Belgrade.
2006 - Serbia and Montenegro flag is lowered as their short-lived union ends.
2006 - Slobodan Milosevic found dead in his cell in The Hague during his ongoing trial for war-crimes.
2006 - NATO admits Serbia to its Partnership for Peace pre-membership program.
2008 - Serbia angrily rejects Kosovo's bid for full sovereignty
Sample Post
I'll kill ALL of you bastards... Once I'm done here... I'll..."
So suddenly as she had decided she would massacre these innocent girls, these girls she hadn't even been able to meet honorably, and look in the eyes, did an eerie sentiment force her to succumb to her instinct. She froze mid-sentence, and could not budge from the surmounting feeling, the sensibility that she was known for.
The inability for a nation to possess solicitude was the very thing that Serbia abhorred most in this world. From her time spent under the Ottoman Empire, to the travesties that had happened so suddenly in the past. Defending Astrit, during the battle of Kosovo. She exhausted all of her resources to defend him, but it would have proved all for naught, for the mighty Ottoman Empire had held his ground, even though she fought as well as possible. They had become slaves, students, and expendable all at once. For many long and dreadful years, she had been forced to take orders from another, and no matter how much she would try and repress such hellish memories, they haunted her. Were the long-lost souls of the departed now hoping for this tragedy to turn into their sick and twisted comedy?
Even later, still, when the world fell into darkness, and the nations had faced a World War by her hands, a simple dispute with Austria having ascended rapidly into a conflict that would shape the course of history. Her ability was without question exceptionable when she was called upon to fight. However, this very conflict created a wound that still felt fresh to her. Her strength had never fully recovered from this conflict. It was not something that was easily noticed, at least not for awhile. A short-lived peace was once again interrupted by evil. An evil that well more than matched the creatures within this inescapable hell, this inmeasurable pandemonium.
Losing wars was one thing... Losing a part of herself... A part of herself that she risked her life for was another. Astrit's seeking of independence; this was something that uprooted years of suppressed emotions, and was what she thought to be an unparalleled anguish. His unrelenting effort and his many allies proved too much for her to repel. This was a mortifying moment in her history, for the had finally seen that she had much more to learn. A silent vow, sewn together with flowing tears. She would not allow him to face dangers anymore. She would patiently await his return, and welcome him back in a merciful, sympathetic gesture. Just as her first deceleration of independence from Ottoman Turkey was premature, so would be this decision to revoke his Serbian pride, and to seek his own fate.
These memories, this ancient history... None of it mattered in this place. Everyone was equal here, and everyone wanted to leave. She had promised herself many times in her youth that she would never under any circumstance lower herself to such levels of apathy and narcissism as to kill for one's selfish desires and pursuits, but the situation at hand was testing her youthful hopes and desires of fairness in a world of lies and delusions. She wanted to save Astrit more than anything else, but the boy was likely in his own perilous "game" as the sickening inhabitants had referred to it. Her promise to always protect him was already broken. She had nothing more to lose.
Snezana was shaking. This was actually happening. There were two others who were staring her down, two others which wanted nothing more than to simply leave without incident. Unfortunately, the mesh flooring that while stable, could not likely be trusted, held below creatures starving with deprivation. Their noises were enough to send chills down her spine alone, disregarding their sheer number and that this was her alternative. A slow and painful death, being mutilated and devoured by such barbarous fiends. They'd not only make her a meal, but their clammy, viscous jaws would very likely be the most unpleasant sensation that she could ever perceive. This was no alternative, this was merely dry humor at its finest.
She peered up once more, her eyes glowing mildly. An instantaneous gander into the eyes of her opponents would not suffice. She would need to see her enemy, to use what she knew against them. She knew much, many reclusive hours spent researching, and meditation, as a reflection upon her thoughts and feelings towards her scientific treks. Learning to add thought and rebuttal to theories that seemed to be replaced ever so often gave her an advantage to blindly following any belief, or using any outdated tactics. To know your opponent is to know your destiny.
The first girl she had noticed was the darker-skinned girl. She was an obviously latina nation. While her knowledge of said nations was less than that of those around her, she could tell that it was most likely Mexico, her resemblance to the ancients that inhabited those noble lands was impeccable. She was very much beautiful, albeit dirty. Her golden-brown hair was smooth and well cared for, something that brought out a mild sense of nostalgia into Snezana. She had holstered to herself what appeared to be a larger knife, of some kind. From the distance, she was worried it would have been a bowie knife, or a machete. Those things were deadly, and could pierce her a vulture seeking its fallen prey. Mexico was a reasonably difficult place to live, so naturally she would be anything but incompetent. She would prove to be worthy foe, one that would not fall easily. She had her family, and she had her values.
'How could I deprive her of her own salvation, for the sake of a country who stands at the edge constantly, always close to conflict... This girl, who only ever defended her own land without too much international quarrel...'
Hesitating, Snezana averted her eyes from the young maiden. There was another that she would have to face in lethal combat. It only took her one glance to see the French in her, at very least a strong, natural beauty that's associated with him. A thorough visual examination confirmed that she was undoubtedly his kin. It took longer to identify her, but Serbia was convinced that it must be Monaco. She was an elegant optimist that most often avoided conflict. In normal circumstance, she would easily defeat her in battle. However, with her powers as a nation being revoked, replaced with a false sense of humanity, the entire equation was different. This was not a sign that would bode well. This young tenacious lady would likely prove to be even more dangerous than Mexico, if not just because nobody would have any idea what to expect from her. Her eyes resembled Astrit's own. She did not appear to have had ever slain another nation, much less many people. Snezana would not discount this mysterious, tiny girl.
'They're both so young... And they're both so beautiful.'
Against her better judgement, Serbia examined her weapon closer. It was very pricey, and very exceptionable... For playing tennis. It was no knife, it could not pierce the skin so easily at all. As she doubted her situation, Snezana's grip gradually tightened. Her thoughts were focused upon the possibility of the knife possibly going right through the strings and into her face, arms, or torso. An unpleasant thought, quickly replaced by flashes of Kosovo trembling, crawling to her for support, begging for assistance. She almost hear his afraid voice clearly, echoing inside of her head, throughout this maddening room.
"I don't want to feel this cold embrace... I don't want to suffer anymore, Snezana...nobody wants to. I don't like this awful feeling... I'm fed up with being weak... Don't leave alone me in this darkness... Why did you let them get me after you promised to keep me safe..."
Snezana closed her eyes, embracing a somber silence. The feeling of melancholy reinforced with visual imagery of his potential demise. Her emotions getting the better of her, tears began flowing, much like raindrops upon the serene lilies in her homeland.
'Astrit... After this is all over... Maybe I prepare some Gibanica* with you, teach you how to make it yourself... No... We'll absolutely do it! I won't be stopped... And this is your chance to prove your deceleration of independence held some merit... I'll... Remember... What Turkey taught me...'
Indeed, she remembered what would be one of the more important lessons that Turkey ever taught her, while she was young and foolish. Turkey had taught her that combat is much more a mental concept, rather than physical. If she held any laments, she would be defeated. If she cringed at the thought of combat, she would be defeated. If she hesitated in the heart of a fight, she would be defeated. Moreover, if she could clear her mind of any distractions, only then would she reach her fullest potential. She couldn't cry, nor could she hold feelings of remorse.
Focus. Focus. As Snezana concentrated all of her energy into clearing her mind of anything that could be seen as a hindrance, when she heard something that sounded like a blade, probably Mexico's, being unsheathed. This was going to happen, and soon. Unaware exactly of how one clear's her mind that was so used to running amok all over the place, clustering with wishes, hopes, and seemingly random thoughts, Serbia decided that it must have been a metaphor. Opening her eyes, hesitation having vanished, Snezana stared down her Mexican adversary, free of worries or regrets about what would soon take place. So suddenly and unexpectedly, she lowered her weapon into it's sheath.
“It is inevitable.”
Snezana squinted her eyes, trying intently to understand what the girl was going on about. Was she going to state the obvious severity of the situation? Or was she throwing in the towel? Either way, she discounted this statement as an unexpected, minor development. Her seemingly distant voice wasn't helping her in getting her point into the light, much less across it.
“We will not survive these beasts. A single drop of blood drives them crazy.”
Mexico was trembling and sighing with this added note. She had not yet been able to accept that they were simply puppets in a game. It was understandable, but it was a weakness. She showed her terror in its truest form. They all very well had expected that this would be a much different situation, being pitted against some method of beast that, while much more dangerous than any of them, would make for a more humane kill. This was the precipice of tension. Everyone had to be afraid, and everyone had to have shame in the idea of killing for another's sport alone. There was no respite, no light at the end of this tunnel. Victory was merely delaying the inevitable. The beasts were not the problem, the problem was the matter at hand yielding no rewards, no hope for anything, except hiding out in that damned manor.
Yes, Serbia had a plan for escape, but it was a long shot at best. There was a hope in escape, in a revival of the days long forgotten that kept her going. This was not a thought to relinquish, but to savor. This was her motivation. The possibility of normalcy was more than enough for her to wish to save Kosovo, to help poor Astrit reach his bed and to find his well deserved rest. She had planned to free each and everyone who was enticed into going to that forsaken party, just as she had. There would be at very least, two less that she could free. At least, free from the manor physically. The other two would be free in a spiritual manner. Was it a good alternative? Snezana could only hope that they would understand, that she was no beast in a cage any longer.
“You understand this, don’t you?”
It was difficult to try and understand a situation that was filled with such anguish and solemn tears. Serbia looked over, noticing that Monaco had been just standing there, trying to pull herself together and likely form her own course of action. Without a word, but with a very likely plethora of thoughts and her own concerns, all understandable and valid, most likely. Serbia stared back towards Mexico, noting a change in her. She seemed crushed, as if it finally clicked inside of her that this situation would require everything they had. It would be disrespectful to hold back, as they all had loved ones and even their own rivals that would be heart broken by their passing.
“Two must die so one can live. You see it, don’t you? You understand. Two. Must. Die.”
Hearing it spoken was more difficult than one would think. Within the safety of just your own mind, it can be filtered and sorted as necessity. Hearing the panicking voices of another with the same concerns was a larger, much more difficult wall to ascend over. She couldn't listen to this much longer, her humanity was beginning to overshadow her pride and restraint.
“One must kill the others. There’s no way around this. If we refuse we all die. I want you two to know, that it was never in my intention to want to kill you. I do not want to kill you.”
That was it. She exposed her hesitation. Even if momentary, she exposed her weakness, and it was nigh time to fight. Shuffling over to the left, away from the center chandelier, Snezana eyed both of her opponents, tightening the grip upon her tennis racquet noticeably. Her focus was undaunting, and her resolve was clear. As Mexico had just put it, one would have to kill the others in her own way. Serbia herself planned upon a victory, but a defeat was not the worst possible alternative They were simply being controlled by the higher-ups in this hell. If they wanted a show, she would give it to them.
With a final peek towards each of her opponents, and safely out of range of the chandelier's path, never knowing what could happen in the art of combat being a large plus, Snezana tightened her guard. Yes, they were helpless to change their situation, lest they become food for the most vile creatures beneath them. However, Snezana knew something that most didn't... Even the most helpless slave, when treated like a dog, had their own fangs to bare.
"If you want to give up, don't. It's insulting to me, to you, and to your loved ones. Gvožđe se kuje dok je vruće."**
*Gibanica
**Gvožđe se kuje dok je vruće = Iron is worked when it's still ablaze. Meaning, strike when the opportunity is right, even if it's not safe.
(Astrit being this Kosovo's name)
The Player
Name: Kseniya
Age: 21
Fun Fact: My motto is Cake.