I Can Manage

Chapter Twenty Six

Nobodies' POV

     Russia walked through the street of the city. It was hard to believe that this whole place was built for the countries. It was a place they could come to be safe from the outside world. It always made him sad that all the people living in the city looked so dull though. Each country ran a different section of the city, depending how powerful of a country they were. So, naturally, The United States ran the biggest section. Russia liked the American section of the city. It was the most vibrant section. The people there were louder than the others. The buildings were painted with colorful murals and there were sculptures all over that section. But his favorite thing was that there was something familiar about the American region of the city. But at the same time it was so vastly different. He could find restaurants that served familiar food and people with thick, Russian accents. But everything had that vibrant, American mannerism. Russia would go and watch the people playing instruments on the street and have even witnessed more than more flash mob.

     So, Russia found himself back in the American section of the city. He was heading to his favorite restaurant in this region. It served Russian meals, with a little American touch. He had come here so many times that he was on a first name basis with the owners (who also know he's a country).

     After going and eating his meal he exited the restaurant and almost ran head first into someone. "Fiddle sticks! Sorry sir, I wasn't watchin' where I was going'" Russia was taken aback by this man at first. His accent was so thick and something you just didn't hear in this city. He also looked almost exactly like America when he was wearing his hologram. He had the same skin tone and hair color, the only difference was one of his eyes was brown. " It's fine." Russia said. 

     "You look lost." He said bluntly. "Is it that obvious?" The man said sheepishly. "I can give you directions. I know this city like the back of my hand." Rus offered. "Much obliged." Russia cocked his head to the side in confusion. The way he talked was extremely confusing. "Does that mean yes?" He asked. The man chuckled a little. "Sometimes I forget people don't understand all my southern terms. But yes it does. I'm trying to get to this address. He showed Russia the address he had scrawled in his notebook. Russia felt his breath caught in his throat. That's America's address, what the hell is he doing going to America's house?

     "I know where that is. The house your heading to is actually owned by a friend of mine." Rus said very calmly. "You know my brother?" Russia whirled around to look at the man. "Brother!?" Russia let his jaw drop. The man laughed and stuck out his hand to shake. "Confederate States of America, nice to meet you." Russia shook his hand, regaining his composure. "I'm sorry. I didn't know America had four brothers. He never mentioned you. Then again, me and America and not on friend terms." Dixie scrutinized Russia's face for a minute, thinking. "Well I'll be a monkey's uncle! You're Russia aren't cha'?" He asked, his southern accent showing through even more. " You're observant." Russia said flatly. "Well I did spend the last 150 or so years living in the middle of the woods. You kinda have to be alert, otherwise you'll run into a copperhead." Russia started to walk away, motioning for Dixie to follow. 

     "You speak strange comrade." Rus said to the southern. Dixie became flustered. "Gosh. I'm sorry. I don't communicate as well as mah' brother. I'm used to people just understandin' my strange sayins'." Dixie cleared his throat. "Is this better?" Russia gaped at him. "You sound identical to America! But, It doesn't suit you, comrade. I prefer your strange speech better." Russia said bluntly. Dixie rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, thank the lord. Changin' mah' accent is uncomfortable, I'm glad you don't mind my southern' drawl." The two of them continued walking and chatting about things. Dixie told some embarrassing stories about his brother, which made the Russian laugh.

     About half an hour later, they had reached the outskirts of the city. "It's awful quiet out here." Dixie commented. "Da. Not many people live around this section. Nothing exciting ever happens on the outskirts." Dixie reached behind him and pulled around an instrument that had been strapped to his back. "Then they won't mind if I spice things up a bit." He started plucking the strings with all of his fingers. The instrument had a tangy sound, and was definitely southern. Then Dixie started to sing.

     After the song finished Russia looked at him surprised. "I didn't take you for a music person." Dixie smiled. "I love music! The south has and entire genre of music jus' fur' us!" Russia just hummed and nodded.

     "Why are you here?" Rus asked bluntly. "What do you mean?" Con. asked, confused. "I mean, why show up now. You've been disconnected from the countries for so long, and from what you told me you could have come back." Dixie looked toward the ground. "I tore my country apart. I started a war that killed hundreds of thousands of my people. I couldn't just come back and act like nothing happened." The southern country said. "Why now?" Rus questioned. "Well. I fear that something is coming. My brother is going to need me." Dixie shrugged. "Just a gut feeling I guess." Russia shrugged very nonchalantly. "Neat... we're here."

     They stood in front of the large gate that blocked off America's estate from the road. "America has never let any of the other countries into his house, so i'll just be on my way." Russian then started walking away.

     As he walked away, he heard shouting and yelling. Then a couple of gunshots and several other southern accents. "What the hell?" He thought before shrugging it off and heading to his own home.

     A Dark Room

      Andrea stood in the dim room. Only one single light bulb lit the room. Around her stood several other individuals. All of them were co-workers of hers. They all spoke in whispered tones. Then the clicking of heels could be heard down the hallway.

Gasps were heard as she entered the room. Veritas.

"Hello my friends!" She said, a wicked smile on her face.

"I have a truly splendid offer for you!"

An old nickname for the south is dixieland. So the nickname for the Confederacy is Dixie. America gave it to him

Love Ya'll!