Memento Mori -ussrxuk-

back in the u.s.s.r

hmmmmmmmmmm. yes. i think this is a chapter. and yeah, this is a beatles song lol.

Britain's POV:

"So you're headin' to Moscow, Mister Wynborne?"

I sit in the back of a 'government security' car. The idea that I can't drive myself to the airport is stupid. I've only ever passed out at the wheel once, and that was back when you could walk alongside a car and still keep up with it.

"Yes. It's only a short trip,"

I wish I wasn't going honestly, there's nothing really important happening that concerns me. And anything's better than having to hear China and Soviet scream at each other constantly.

"SO?! WHAT DOES WHAT I DO IN MY SPARE TIME MATTER TO YOU?"

China screams across the hallway as she throws a glass bottle at Soviet. Soviet steps out of the way of the bottle as it smashes against the floor by his feet.

"I just think that threatening members of the West with... what you're suggesting is... bad for our reputation?" Soviet speaks slowly with unease.

China growls and stares furiously at Soviet.

"AND THERE WE GO, YOU MAKE IT ALL ABOUT YOURSELF. ALL. THE. TIME. YOU'RE SO FUCKING SELFISH,"

Soviet's face goes atleast three shades of pink deeper than usual. It's his angry, out of breath face.

"I'm not making it all about me! For the last time China, I'm just trying to give you some advice-"

He had scoffed as he spoke, it probably ticked China off a little bit more.

"I DON'T NEED YOUR FUCKING 'ADVICE'. GOD YOU'RE SO FUCKING ANNOYING,"

She keeps ranting but in Mandarin. It was kind of surprising to hear it considering they were perfectly fine together just the day before.

And I was unfortunate enough to witness all of this as I had poked my head around the corner just to see it. Why couldn't they just do this bullshit in private? I don't want to hear that.

I shudder just thinking about it.

"Ugh," I groan, sinking into my seat.

"Are you alright back there, Sir?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. Nothing to worry about Mr. Smith,"

Mr Smith chuckles dryly as he keeps his head forward and his eyes on the road ahead.

"I don' know how you can't be worried, you're goin' up in one of those flying contraptions. Lucy passes out at the mere sight of 'em,"

Lucy... That's the name of his wife. I've met her once at one of those christmas parties that the MPs hold.

"That's unfortunate. I expect it to be the most efficient mode of travel eventually,"

"If we can afford it, Sir," Mr Smith laughs.

"Good point. I'm lucky I don't have to pay for this,"

The rest of the ride is made up of small conversation about any topic at all.

"Welp, we're here, Sir. Have a good flight!"

I thank Mr Smith and get out of the car. I open the boot and pull out my suitcase.

As he drives off, I wave goodbye.

Now I just need to get on a bloody plane and go to bloody Moscow.

Bloody hell.