The Portal To The Guardian (Countryhumans Y/N Story)

Chapter 19: The Sustenance League

Goofy Ah George is back! Sorry for not updating in a while, I have been busy AND got writers block. All other language was translated by google, so sorry if it's not the correct meaning. Anyways, I have inspiration ONCE MORE!!!!!! Honestly, I just need one idea, and I would write a whole story, but alas... I have TWO. Thanks to xXsn0wst0rmXx and Eevee_daQueen, the Sustenance League has now spawned! (why did I write it like that... sPaWnEd) I can't wait to see what becomes of this, and I'm gonna start the chapter now!

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The Supreme Leader of Sustainment POV

I am the new leader of the Sustenance League, and everyone shall call me 'The Supreme Leader Of Sustainment'. I thought as me and crowd of food (and drink) loving countries paraded through the war torn hills. 

We picked up bodies of our dead enemies, none of us countryhumans died in the recent skirmish. I wrinkled my nose as the stench of rotting corpses filled my lungs. Obviously, one soaking, humid, deathly hot night was all that's need to create a rapid growth of... bacteria? I think so. I loved thinking, and sometimes speaking, in fancy. Others say it's just 'old English', but I think not!

"When I signed up to be a part of this gang, I thought it was to do with food, not dead people." China complained, he was correct though. I had assembled a group of people all similar in a certain way, just like America said, and unfortunately we got stuck with this job. I think America was half joking, then grabbed the chance to organize something good. For once...

"Italy? Earth to Italy!" France said as he waved a baguette under my face. I snapped back to reality and found the five countries I had gathered staring at me.

"France! Don't bother him, he was deep in thought. We need our Supreme Leader to be thinking, otherwise we will have nothing to do." Scotland said, he was quite... passionate about his food. But then again, that's rich coming from me. Honestly, shame and curses on people who don't like Scotland's accent, Ireland's too.

"Why did I choose this, it'll end up in violence." Switzerland sighed, the man was and still is a pacifist. 

But dio mio can Swiss be scary sometimes. He is well known for his cheese, as France is for his Baguettes, Scotland for his haggis, Russia for his vodka (the kid was SO cute, and we did accept drinks), me for my amazing pizza; and pasta; and lasagna; and.. you know! China was here for his rice. If I were to be honest, India would be a better fit, but he is way to straightforward for this kind of thing. It's good to have a slightly more diverse team, but we'll be great anyways!

After cleaning up all the bodies, we slowly trudged back to the camp. I wonder what Japan, Eastie and Westie are doing... Honestly, Russia is only nine years younger than me, at the age of 7, if we were human of course. I wonder what it would be like if were were human, and didn't live long lives. I would own and run a pizzeria (MARIO THAT YOU?), France would most likely have a bakery. Switzerland would either have a cheese shop, or something like that. Russia would be... an alcoholic? China would be a business man selling cheap, knock-off phones, no doubt.

"Phew, you lot smell!" Eastie said as he looked up from the card game he, Belarus, Georgia and... I don't recognize the flag. 

He does have beautiful golden wings though, so I told him that. He brightened up, his feathers slightly ruffling, and gave me his thanks. I nodded towards the group then moved on further into the camp, only France and Switzerland following me now. We were in the more center-ish part of Europe, so our tent was further away from others. Except for Scotland, who shared a large tent with his siblings, Wales, Northern Ireland, and England, a good few meters away from us. Not that it did anything to block the insane amount of noise coming from them. Me and France's tents were next to each other, Swiss's one facing towards us.