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- Mongolia
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|Mongolia|Монголиа|Монгол Улс|モンゴル国
Country Information:
Country:Mongolia(Монгол Улс)Capital: Ulaanbaatar (Улаанбаатар)Government: Parliamentary Demoracy-Election Every 4 Years(Main)Religion:Tibetan BuddhismOfficial Language(s) : Khalkha Mongol -Russian
-Turkic
Country Age: 90 Since Independence | 808 (Since 1206)Date of Independence: November 26(1924) | December 29 (Lunar Calender)National Anthem:Кhаирт Монгол Ороноо Мандуулиыа (Let Us Make Our Beloved Country Flourish)
"One arrow alone can be easily broken,but many arrows are in-destructible."
-Genghis Khan
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Hey there 
Could you please click on my profile icon? :3 I wanna collect your country's flag
Could you please click on my profile icon? :3 I wanna collect your country's flag
[Can't be bothered to log in this account but this is the owner.
This is a Role-Play account of a personification of the country of Mongolia.Based on a comic known as Hetalia.I loved hearing about the country and I was a big lover of the manga so put two and two together...
I read a lot of books of Mongolia to make the character accurate as I can and its still not complete.(Critiques are indeed welcome.)
?? So just because I'm not native means I no right to appreciate the country?Is that it? Thats a little unfair don't ya think?]
This is a Role-Play account of a personification of the country of Mongolia.Based on a comic known as Hetalia.I loved hearing about the country and I was a big lover of the manga so put two and two together...
I read a lot of books of Mongolia to make the character accurate as I can and its still not complete.(Critiques are indeed welcome.)
?? So just because I'm not native means I no right to appreciate the country?Is that it? Thats a little unfair don't ya think?]
{ ur page is just going to be me tbh }
The sky-high buildings clashed against the Mongolian landscape as grand architectural testaments saying, yes we are modern. In the distance Shion could see a large camp of gers set up, and far on the horizon he could see more. The mountains were out of reach and the city was half-comparable to Shanghai when it came to the pollution.
Chinese tourists obviously weren't all that welcome in Ulanbaataar, as Shion had learnt through first hand experience that day by way of a gentleman yelling at him some rather nasty expletive, culminating in someone (not Shion) getting a mean right hook to the nose and earning themselves a wicked nosebleed; still, it was... Nice... In that human way.
He stood out like a sore thumb. His gold qipao and skin-tight pants did him no favours, especially when compared to the more modern clothes of the people passing him by; but nobody said anything. Well, apart from the aforementioned man who decided that the cartilage in his nose wasn't worth holding his tongue of one nasty comment. Ha.
It was around noon, and Shion had walked around dirt-streets and paved ones, seen all that Ulaanbaataar had to offer that wasn't catering to the tourists. He was searching for something. And for once, it was personal.
Maybe directions could help?
Humans could be useful for some things...
So he approached his victim. "You." Poor man. "Excuse me," Shion said this as if the very words were foreign, or poison. Either adjective. "I need help in finding a lost item." From a century ago...
The sky-high buildings clashed against the Mongolian landscape as grand architectural testaments saying, yes we are modern. In the distance Shion could see a large camp of gers set up, and far on the horizon he could see more. The mountains were out of reach and the city was half-comparable to Shanghai when it came to the pollution.
Chinese tourists obviously weren't all that welcome in Ulanbaataar, as Shion had learnt through first hand experience that day by way of a gentleman yelling at him some rather nasty expletive, culminating in someone (not Shion) getting a mean right hook to the nose and earning themselves a wicked nosebleed; still, it was... Nice... In that human way.
He stood out like a sore thumb. His gold qipao and skin-tight pants did him no favours, especially when compared to the more modern clothes of the people passing him by; but nobody said anything. Well, apart from the aforementioned man who decided that the cartilage in his nose wasn't worth holding his tongue of one nasty comment. Ha.
It was around noon, and Shion had walked around dirt-streets and paved ones, seen all that Ulaanbaataar had to offer that wasn't catering to the tourists. He was searching for something. And for once, it was personal.
Maybe directions could help?
Humans could be useful for some things...
So he approached his victim. "You." Poor man. "Excuse me," Shion said this as if the very words were foreign, or poison. Either adjective. "I need help in finding a lost item." From a century ago...
OutOfArrows:Here.
Opening the intricately designed doors of the Gandan Khiid monastery a cool wind caressed the face of the personification; like a woman welcoming her lover from a conflict that took him away from her for many years. Bringing the fresh perfume of the plants nearby that grew along the edges of the stone paved road,and taking some of those plant's leaves away, luckily, none hitting the man in the face.Not that he would minded.For he welcomed her, and as such, he took all of her.Good and bad.
The man rubbed his forehead with two fingers, catching the warm moist perspiration that ran down his forehead;which accumulated as he watched the golden gilded statue of Avalokiteśvara, lost in the memory of how this very monastery survived one of his old leader's plans of destruction, when the brother's of this very building did not. Feeling nostalgic because of it he also read one of the many pieces of old work salvaged from the time before Choibalsan.
Before the Qing.
Before even that.
Pacing down the road that led out of the monastery the man spared looks to what he passed by,taking in the view held before him with a small smile.
Young monks in robes of gold and red walked calmly on the stone road,their boots thrumming gently as they went to either prepare for the ceremonies at the Ochidara Temple for the tourists, or to simply speak with some of them.Gentle eyes looking at everyone they lay on with something akin to adoration, and speaking in hushed calm tones that soothed all that listened to them.
Small children ran to and fro, eyes shining brightly and cheeks probably hurting from their lips raising up so much as they happily chased after the many pigeons; which lazed about in content, until startled at least. Then small caws would escape sharp beaks and wings would flap; giving the sound of a whirring helicopter as they took to the skies, only to go to the other side of the road.Where the result would only be the same.
Eyes closed, the male sighed in content.'Ahh...peace..'
That peace however, was shattered by words that usually held questioning laced with venom, and rather; the presence he felt.
Opening his eyes and immediately stepping back he found himself looking toward an oddity.
A chinese oddity.
Scrunching his eyebrows together narrowed eyes roamed the man up and down,taking in the appearance.
He knew he recognized the clothing.How could he not?
He saw it more often than he liked. However, it was worn by females...
This one is not.
After hearing the man speak again the personification gave a dubious look. "If you needed help, you could have asked the abbot.He is forced to help you,not I. So give me a reason why I should."
The Mongolian crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised in waiting. "Unless you have governmental or company business there is nothing I need to help you with."
Opening the intricately designed doors of the Gandan Khiid monastery a cool wind caressed the face of the personification; like a woman welcoming her lover from a conflict that took him away from her for many years. Bringing the fresh perfume of the plants nearby that grew along the edges of the stone paved road,and taking some of those plant's leaves away, luckily, none hitting the man in the face.Not that he would minded.For he welcomed her, and as such, he took all of her.Good and bad.
The man rubbed his forehead with two fingers, catching the warm moist perspiration that ran down his forehead;which accumulated as he watched the golden gilded statue of Avalokiteśvara, lost in the memory of how this very monastery survived one of his old leader's plans of destruction, when the brother's of this very building did not. Feeling nostalgic because of it he also read one of the many pieces of old work salvaged from the time before Choibalsan.
Before the Qing.
Before even that.
Pacing down the road that led out of the monastery the man spared looks to what he passed by,taking in the view held before him with a small smile.
Young monks in robes of gold and red walked calmly on the stone road,their boots thrumming gently as they went to either prepare for the ceremonies at the Ochidara Temple for the tourists, or to simply speak with some of them.Gentle eyes looking at everyone they lay on with something akin to adoration, and speaking in hushed calm tones that soothed all that listened to them.
Small children ran to and fro, eyes shining brightly and cheeks probably hurting from their lips raising up so much as they happily chased after the many pigeons; which lazed about in content, until startled at least. Then small caws would escape sharp beaks and wings would flap; giving the sound of a whirring helicopter as they took to the skies, only to go to the other side of the road.Where the result would only be the same.
Eyes closed, the male sighed in content.'Ahh...peace..'
That peace however, was shattered by words that usually held questioning laced with venom, and rather; the presence he felt.
Opening his eyes and immediately stepping back he found himself looking toward an oddity.
A chinese oddity.
Scrunching his eyebrows together narrowed eyes roamed the man up and down,taking in the appearance.
He knew he recognized the clothing.How could he not?
He saw it more often than he liked. However, it was worn by females...
This one is not.
After hearing the man speak again the personification gave a dubious look. "If you needed help, you could have asked the abbot.He is forced to help you,not I. So give me a reason why I should."
The Mongolian crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised in waiting. "Unless you have governmental or company business there is nothing I need to help you with."
This monastery might have offered him some solace if not for the fact that he had his heart set on a single prize, if not for the fact that this man before him was being insolent.
His mouth was forced into pursing. Shion's eyes, red like the outside of a rotting peach were cold and regarding Qorchi with nothing other than disdain. A bird flew overhead and he didn't so much as look up, and more than a few people must've wondering what a Chinese 'woman' was doing here with crossed arms and a sour face.
Shion had no patience, that was a fact; he also had very little mind for subtlety when it didn't concern wushu. "I have waited over a century to reclaim my meteor hammers, you protozoac nitwit." Bile made verbal. His demeanor shifted, and he began to pick at his nails. "If you don't tell me I will rip this entire yard to shreds myself. So, find me someone who has a clue or run." He looked this dark haired man in the eyes, his expression softened, lips now in a slight pout and eyes no longer narrowed.
"Go on." Shion was waiting to see what path he would take. The monastery's existence was in the hands of a single man, as was Shion's foul, foul temper.
{ this is p short compared but i didn't want 2 purple prose this bitch }
His mouth was forced into pursing. Shion's eyes, red like the outside of a rotting peach were cold and regarding Qorchi with nothing other than disdain. A bird flew overhead and he didn't so much as look up, and more than a few people must've wondering what a Chinese 'woman' was doing here with crossed arms and a sour face.
Shion had no patience, that was a fact; he also had very little mind for subtlety when it didn't concern wushu. "I have waited over a century to reclaim my meteor hammers, you protozoac nitwit." Bile made verbal. His demeanor shifted, and he began to pick at his nails. "If you don't tell me I will rip this entire yard to shreds myself. So, find me someone who has a clue or run." He looked this dark haired man in the eyes, his expression softened, lips now in a slight pout and eyes no longer narrowed.
"Go on." Shion was waiting to see what path he would take. The monastery's existence was in the hands of a single man, as was Shion's foul, foul temper.
{ this is p short compared but i didn't want 2 purple prose this bitch }
OutOfArrows:I don't mind.
Watching the man get enraged was one of the responses the man expected. Often times he was considered to be the more tamer by how he treats his neighbors from the southern end, but that did not mean he was not in the general term mean and rude to them. A sly grin wanted to make itself appear on his face as the man's face grew more and more filled with malice-
The Mongolian's eyes got more sharper like that of a feline's at the word of 'Meteor Hammers' and 'Century.'Suspicion evident on his face.The hairs on the back of his neck raised.
Now that certainly got his attention.
'What is this being?' Glancing at the sky as if expecting the 'sky god' to answer he looked back to the little man before him. He did not expect a reply, however.If any answers were to come it must come from the source itself.
'This man could either be a lunatic...or something else.'
If Qorchi were like others, they would assume people that spoke of such things were crazy.
Qorchi was not one of them.
He has survived for centuries himself.His clock refused to stop for him, making he go through war and peace,and to see close ones die. He has learned much from being both the tormentor and the tormented, the royal and the peasant.
It is a vicious cycle, but he regrets none of it.
It is not a stretch to assume other odd creatures to exist. The presence of something wrong was the first thing he felt as he looked to this short man. He said he waited over a century.He said a weapon that sounds it has special abilities, and Qorchi does not remember any legends regarding anything of the sort. That would mean the male obviously is not chasing after a fairytale.
The mongolian man glanced to the children and parents;some of them looking at both him and the man in the chinese garb with curiosity, then to a monk stooping down and holding out an arm full of seeds to the bird.
If he decided to start something here and was proved wrong the worst that would happen is that he would get injured and heal after a few hours, depending on how deep the wound is.
If he was right however these people would be dead and the monastery destroyed, like this...being said. They could not return to the world of the living like he could if he got killed.
There was only one option...and he felt disgusted by how he responded. How easily he submitted to a CHINESE man based on an assumption that could be false.
"I have connections." The man said quietly, an answer that surely was a yes." I know the roads better than any tour guide you could ever find here,I know secret locations, I know all about this land.All you must do, is follow me.I can help find what you are searching for."
Watching the man get enraged was one of the responses the man expected. Often times he was considered to be the more tamer by how he treats his neighbors from the southern end, but that did not mean he was not in the general term mean and rude to them. A sly grin wanted to make itself appear on his face as the man's face grew more and more filled with malice-
The Mongolian's eyes got more sharper like that of a feline's at the word of 'Meteor Hammers' and 'Century.'Suspicion evident on his face.The hairs on the back of his neck raised.
Now that certainly got his attention.
'What is this being?' Glancing at the sky as if expecting the 'sky god' to answer he looked back to the little man before him. He did not expect a reply, however.If any answers were to come it must come from the source itself.
'This man could either be a lunatic...or something else.'
If Qorchi were like others, they would assume people that spoke of such things were crazy.
Qorchi was not one of them.
He has survived for centuries himself.His clock refused to stop for him, making he go through war and peace,and to see close ones die. He has learned much from being both the tormentor and the tormented, the royal and the peasant.
It is a vicious cycle, but he regrets none of it.
It is not a stretch to assume other odd creatures to exist. The presence of something wrong was the first thing he felt as he looked to this short man. He said he waited over a century.He said a weapon that sounds it has special abilities, and Qorchi does not remember any legends regarding anything of the sort. That would mean the male obviously is not chasing after a fairytale.
The mongolian man glanced to the children and parents;some of them looking at both him and the man in the chinese garb with curiosity, then to a monk stooping down and holding out an arm full of seeds to the bird.
If he decided to start something here and was proved wrong the worst that would happen is that he would get injured and heal after a few hours, depending on how deep the wound is.
If he was right however these people would be dead and the monastery destroyed, like this...being said. They could not return to the world of the living like he could if he got killed.
There was only one option...and he felt disgusted by how he responded. How easily he submitted to a CHINESE man based on an assumption that could be false.
"I have connections." The man said quietly, an answer that surely was a yes." I know the roads better than any tour guide you could ever find here,I know secret locations, I know all about this land.All you must do, is follow me.I can help find what you are searching for."
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