Aftermath Plans || Amerus / Rusame

Era One, Chapter One

It was the little strings of happiness that he was standing on. Tiny, fragile strings that kept him from falling down.

May 19th 1965, Helsinki

Even though bad things usually came after the happy moments, he was somewhat excited today. He saw the grass greener, the sky brighter, the bumpiness of the abandoned road seemed enjoyable even. The atmosphere of a different country, even if it felt so much like Moscow, gave him a small little hope.
Given his status and the way his father reacted around him, it was nearly impossible for him to get out of the house, yet alone go to another country. It had taken him 20 years of solitude behind the wooden doors of their huge, cold mansion for him to remember he had an heir to raise.
Though he didn't detest his father for this, not really. He mostly understood what he did or why he did it, and considering his son's background, it was best for him to lock him down anyway.
As he turned his eyes towards the man in question he felt somewhat of a pride blooming in his chest. His father was soon going to be the most powerful man in the earth. He had went through a lot but it never pulled him down, he was the embodiment of power a normal man could only wish to possess. He was feared across the globe, he was respected amongst all.
He wasn't bad looking either-in fact, he was quite the opposite. If people didn't get stunned by fear or his aura, they would because of how gorgeous, how handsome he was. His only flaw was the ugly scar peeking out from his eyepatch, distrupting the beautiful scenery of a god with a scar that he didn't deserve. It was the only thing that reminded people that he wasn't a god, most likely.

Today he was wearing his usual outfit as well; a long maroon jacket that covered his black turtleneck, a black scarf that dropped around his neck, black pants that had a belt carrying his weapons and some boots to keep him warm.
It was mostly casual, albeit the shiny medals on his chest. He didn't bother with going super fancy to a meeting everyone would go, he knew his presence would be enough anyway.

As he felt his son's eyes on him, he slowly turned his eye to his. It was a lifeless, tragic gray that reminded everyone of a storm that was going to take millions of people's lives in no time. He broke out a little smile that he never did to anyone else.

"Russia?" He asked, turning his head to see him better. "Is everything okay?"

The said boy bowed his head down in respect, before looking at his eyes again to speak.

"Yes, father."

Being Soviet Union's son was no easy task, but being his heir? It was even harder. Everyone looked at him with the expectations of being a better leader than his father is or even was, looking at him with the hopes of being secure in the future even if they succumb to this awful war-it was truly a weight to carry.

"You improvised what we talked about?"

Russia just gave his father a nod, which seemed to take the other man by surprise. "You do?"

"Yes, father."

"Want to tell me what you remember?"

Knowing he wouldn't have any other option other than do what his father says, Russia straightened up with a sigh.

"Don't talk unless asked."

"How much can you say?"

"Only my name and my relation."

Soviet seemed to like this answer, so he leaned back. "What else?"

"Don't talk to the enemy. Don't give out agressive comments. Don't act agressive."

His father nodded. "Thats good." He rubbed his back when the car seemed to came to a stop. "Why don't you show me how well you learned now?"

As much as Soviet wanted to, the younger slav's eyes didn't shine. He just gave out a slight nod, as if he was already inside an unknown trance, and got out of the car.