Through the Streets [Open]

[Ivan Braginski]

Ivan nodded at some of those on the streets, giving his people smiles that they so desperately needed right now. Supplies were much better than where they were in the last year, but still not enough to really sustain how large the city had grown. One day, he was sure, there would be enough water, good food, and shelter to go around, but for the moment, even such hopes seemed childish and bleak considering the present. However, without hope, he would begin to wither away and he had come too far to do that. Much too far.

He looked up at the clear sky, although he couldn't tell if he would ever see a truly clear sky ever again, the haze ever present from all the radioactivity that surrounded the city. The Wastes were just so vast, so untouchable, there had to be a way to clear the earth faster than this, although he had no solution. With a sigh, he went back to his walk, trying to give his people as much encouragement as he was able to muster.

"Aah, I see we are finally going to get some electricity," Ivan said, watching some men rebuild felled poles and reconnect wires. He wasn't aware of any generators nor of any plants in the area, but he was sure his people would think of someway to create power. It was a start. "Good. That will get people's hopes up."

He continued his walk, ever searching for something, although not knowing what that something was or if he would ever find it.

[Alfred F Jones]

After many months, Alfred managed to make his way up through Alaska.
He had spent the past few years making sure everything was fine in his home, but he was worried about the rest of the world, like usual, he had to keep up his title as a hero after all.

He caught a boat over the small part of the ocean between his and Russia's land. Making his way into the other nation's land, hoping to make his way across and into Europe.
His main quest, though he won't admit it, is to check on England.

Wandering around aimlessly for a while, adjusting his pack, and nodding to passer by Russians, he continued to look for anyone of his kind.

[Ivan Braginski]

Ivan hummed a traditional tune as he continued his walk, today was a good day. It wasn't too cold, the winters becoming a bit more mild, more like they used to be in this area, as time went on, but it would be that time again soon. Which meant that he would have to start saving up his sunflower seeds, as they didn't do very well in the harsh winters that still plagued him wherever he went it seemed. General Winter at least made it through the past 200 years with ease. With the initial nuclear winter and all.

As he meandered the streets, he felt the inkling in the back of his mind that there was another one of them around. He let the barest of grins cross his features, he wondered which one had decided to come to his little city. Most likely going to argue with him about the way he chose how to run his little area, and maybe "suggest" that he cross the border back over and live in the vast wastelands that Russia was now made up of. They picked a good day to visit at any rate, today was a good day and he didn't feel the particular urge to beat anything to death.

He turned around a corner, surprise all across his features. Tilting his head to the side, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Comrade," he began, confusion in his tone. "What...are you doing here. Surely America has a lot of problems to be coming here, da?"

Ivan grimaced inwardly, his English had become worse due to him not using it much anymore. He would have to work on that.

[Alfred F Jones]

He continued his little quest around the town until he heard a familiar voice and looked up with a smile, "Russia!" he exclaimed looking up at the taller nation.

His smiled slipped a little as the other nation finished his sentence, "Well..yea we do have a lot of problems back home. But! Being the awesome hero that I am, I've fixed most of them!" he said, his smile coming back, almost beaming.

"It's just, your house was closest and the easiest to get to. Cost a lot less too," he patted his pocket before continuing, "Plus being a hero doesn't mean just looking after yourself, but others too! What kind of hero would I be if I didn't check up on you guys?"

[Ivan Braginski]

Unless the other nation could magically cut and paste his land back together, Ivan highly doubted that America was in any better state than the rest of the world. Always full of energy, Ivan thought as he half listened to America ramble on about this being the cheaper way. He wondered if his land was nothing but a waste, like Russia feared that his was. He refrained from asking about Alfred's trip across, he didn't want to know if the land was just as scared and battered as he was.

"I am glad that you seem to have made it safely," Ivan replied, hoping that he wouldn't have to lose company so soon after gaining it, but fearing that he would. The other nations, he wasn't sure what they thought about him anymore or even if they did. It was just easier to stay here, with the warmth and safety of his people. "I do know that some others are still alive, although I am not sure which ones are, nor where they are anymore. I have not been keeping track."

It was good to see that those across the ocean were doing well for themselves, especially after looking at devastation day after day. "Ah, you still pretend to play hero, da? Even after all this has happened. It's good to see that you are still a child, even after all this time."

[Matthew Williams]

It had been near agony for Matthew to leave the sanctuary of his own territory. Alaska, once upon a distant time, had been part of him before the explorations of Russia had stolen it in one large chunk. Then with an exchange of money across hands, America’s people had snatched it up and left it thoroughly stamped with their own mentality, culture, and designs. Walking across the land made the Canadian feel so far detached from the soil that it had created a near pain in his bones that had nothing to do with the arctic cold.

His options had been limited and he was desperately in need of supplies. While Matthew could have made the hike to the eastern part of his land, he knew that there were many dangers that would be obstacles along the way – none of which he was equipped to deal with at the time. He opted to go west. Those few survivors who he had met in his journeys across the land had spread to him the rumors of the successful rebirth of the Soviet Union. Matthew knew that if he made it across the Straight then his chances would be better of arming himself up enough for his continued voyage – destination unknown.

Matthew had been smothered by the press of the people in the boat traveling over, so bothered by the presence of other people after such a long isolation that he could only sink his face deeper into the folds of his coat, keeping as low a profile as possible. It was clear by the mix of spoken languages that those of Russia and the northernmost American state had become intermingled even further over the years. Luckily, he still recollected enough Russian that he could stammer a few key phrases to get him by. All it took was for the resourceful Canadian to follow the mass of the crowds as their travels led him into the heart of a city.

Wasting no time, Matthew darted through the streets of the city, keeping his hat tugged down far over his head, though that stubborn curl jutted out as if it had a grudge against the rest of his hair. He blinked as his eyes danced over the movements of the people around him. There was a sharp internal tug that he barely recognized. It couldn’t be…? No. Of course not. The odds of him encountering another nation were close to impossible.

Still… The Canadian made a careful look around the streets around him, before one of the street merchants on the side of the road snared his attention by barking at him in Russian, displaying the wares of food. Matthew’s stomach grumbled. It had been a while since he had eaten; the wastelands outside of the city had been too dangerous for him to hunt. What did they even use for currency here now? “Désolé. Je n’ai aucun argent.”

He winced as his words slipped out of him in French. Quebec’s expansion had killed most of his English-speaking culture; it was automatic. He blushed at the look that his spoken language got him from the merchant, repeating himself in stuttering Russian.

---

Translation: "Sorry. I do not have any money."

[Alfred F Jones]

Alfred paused at the Russian's last sentence, as if testing if the other was joking.
After a few seconds he realized that he wasn't and said, "Pretending!? I'm not pretending! I never was! I've always been the hero and will always be one!"

He glared away for a moment before giving a late reply, "And I'm not a kid!"

He opened he mouth to make another statement, but shut it as he felt another nation nearing them.
He turned around, looking through the snowy background, "Do you feel that too?"

[Ivan Braginski]

No matter what America said, Ivan would always think of the other as a child, mostly because of the vast age difference of them. He would always pity him the way other nations pitied him for his past, for the way he was, just because of that age difference and at the rather fast pace that everything seemed to happen to him. Hiding the pity as he learned to do, Ivan just smiled at him, instead of saying how no matter what, he would always just be a child.

A slight pull inside of his chest meant that there was another one of them nearby, which made his eyes narrow. If one of the Europeans were sniffing around, he would have to rid his fine city of them. Mostly because they would try to run it their way, even though he and his people were flourishing without them for the most part. And giving the slaves from the traders at least a home, a good home for the most part. Every nation had their abusers, but it would seem his children for the most part, were well behaved.

"Yes," Ivan replied shortly, eyes narrowing. "And if it is one of those...from old Europe, they better get out. I am not very welcome in their cities and they are not welcome in mine."

[Matthew Williams]

Matthew had let his hearing sharpen, attempting to tune out some of the background noise of the streets around him. That was how he managed to hear the exchange of voices nearby -- both quite familiar. The Canadian felt his chest tighten. It was a combination of disbelief and dread as he searched his memory and put faces to either man's voice. Matthew twisted, seeing some of the crowd parting so that he could view the two men locked in conversation. No... not men. Nations.

Something had to have possessed him. Matthew should have turned around and left the area as quickly as was possible. Forget his supplies or food or anything else. It would have been so easy to just vanish back into the passing pedestrians.

Yet before he knew what he was doing, the Canadian had begun to walk forward. His eyes were wide behind his glasses, expressing the level of his astonishment at finding two unlikely nations having what appeared to be a civil conversation. Matthew stopped just short of where they stood, aloof and on the verge of fleeing. He began to fidget with the fabric of his jacket as he waited to see if they would even recognize him, let alone remember who he was.

[Ivan Braginski]

He felt the other nation coming closer, his eyes focused on the streets that lay behind America. He didn't know if the other nation was going to appear behind America nor behind himself, but something tugged him to look in the direction behind America, and he was not one to ward off such a strong feeling. Griping his pipe, ready to bring it down on any unsuspecting head, Ivan was ready to take care of this intruder if it happened to be one of those that did not believe that he had any right to be here.

What surprised him into almost dropping his weapon, the grip slackening, was that it was America's little brother. Standing up, Ivan decided that the usual invisible nation was more visible than sitting down, which was a plus. It also helped that no nation could ignore the slight tug anymore, desperation and loneliness overpowering in the new ear where community and visits were common in the previous ones. Ivan was actually kind of surprised his brother had not yet noticed.

"Canada," Ivan greeted, his smile back in place. "Good to see you survived, da?"

[Alfred F Jones]

Alfred stayed quiet, watching Ivan closely.
He shifted a bit away when he saw the other man reach for his pipe, "Hey what are you..?" he began to ask until Ivan spoke about Canada, his little brother.

He'd spent all this time locking himself away in his home, trying to be the hero his people needed, and had completely forgotten his northern bro.

Staring straight a head, not wanting to turn around in fear of what Canada might look like now he asked softly, "Matty..? Is that you?"

[Matthew Williams]

Matthew forced a grimacing smile as Ivan noticed him first. The Canadian adjusted his eyeglasses on the bridge of his nose with a gloved hand, shy and cautious. "Y-you as well, Ivan. I hope... hope that it is all right for me to be here?"

Despite him trying to be polite to the elder nation, Matthew was clearly distracted by the presence of the other one standing there. He had not seen his brother since the tragedy that had befallen their territories, stuck in his own predicaments and distractions. His connection to them probably tugged even stronger as the Canadian's heart started to race even further.

He studied them both and was glad to find that they appeared to be unharmed from the event; either time or luck had spared them with lasting effects. Matthew stepped tentatively forward to join them more completely, as his eyes once again lit on Alfred. A gloved hand reached out, curling in to grip the sleeve of the American's jacket.

His touch was tentative, cautious and gentle. Just like it had always been, accompanied by a soft voice that seemed incapable of ever reaching a shout. "Brother. I'm here." His eyes shut as the Canadian smiled sweetly. "I've found you."

[Alfred F Jones]

Alfred kept his gaze forward, staring into the Russian's coat, as he hear his lost brother approach them.

He shut his eyes, shuttering a little, as he felt the other's grip on his jacket. He heart was racing, and his breathing quickened as he tried to fight back his over whelming emotions.

So many rushed through him; relief that Matty was alright, hatred for himself for forgetting him in such a desperate time, happiness that he was here, and sadness that they had to meet each other again under such conditions.

He slowly turn towards Canada, giving him his best hero smile he could, and opening his eyes where tears were forming despite his effort to fight them back.

"Y-Yea! You've found me!," he said in a shaky voice, "Oh god Matty are you okay? I haven't seen you in so long man..I've been worried!"

[Matthew Williams]

"I'm fine. Never better." The Canadian was a little shocked by the presence of tears in his brother's eyes. It astonished him that Alfred would even show such a vulnerable face in front of the Russian. Though he supposed that with everything that had happened, it was to be expected that people had changed. Even Ivan did not seem as unwelcoming. Not that it made Matthew anymore relaxed around the taller arctic nation.

His face lowered, hair falling forward as he tentatively crept in closer to his brother. He himself had not anticipated such a reunion! Matthew had been isolated for so long that the concept of seeing his sibling again had become a distant, foggy dream. The more petite Canadian edged in until he was gripping that sleeve and inches away from Alfred -- which, to anyone who was aware of how his awkward affections worked, would realize that this was Matthew's pale version of an embrace. Contact without invasion, touch without intrusion.

A violet eye angled towards Ivan as he stood there feeling uncertain of himself. "Y-you both seem to be doing well. Your territory seems to be prospering, Ivan. Congratulations."

[Ivan Braginski]

((So sorry about the late replies! I caught the flu and...it basically took me out for a few days.))

Ivan watched the reunion of the two brothers with curious yet jealous eyes. Would his sisters be so receptive? Were they even still alive somewhere? He was silent for the most part, feeling like a looming presence rather than apart of this new conversation. He felt a pain that he thought that he had got over 150 years ago, after keeping the hope that his sisters were somewhere, waiting for him to come to them and save them. But that was better saved for a later time, always pushing them off until later. His people, his survival, came first after all.

He was surprised again, by Canada taking the initiative to including him once again. He found the smaller nation somewhat charming, seeing as he was so much quieter than his brother, whom he had somewhat strained relations with. A bit awkward now, rejoining the conversation, Ivan figured it was for the best, lest the conversation between America and Canada become too strained.

"Ah, my people have been diligent in making sure they have enough," Ivan smiled sweetly, or as sweetly as he could muster. "I hope your people are doing well? You do not look ill."