Today was much like any other day to Finland; he woke up, went through his usual morning routine, changed and refixed his bandaged arms a few times before he was satisfied, was dragged out of his house to have breakfast with the fellow Nordics then was whisked away by the Baltics so they all could calmly chat once more only to find himself sitting alone within the calm serenity of a park littered silly and full with trees once he was by himself again. There was nothing special about the day thus far, unremarkably for him, much like there typically wasn't. He rarely got documents to work on, since the EU *very* skimpily sent paperwork his way, if any at all, so all there was left to do was to calmly sit and enjoy the peace of the park he found himself sitting inside of. He could use the social break anyways; breakfast and then chit-chat was a bit much for him to mentally handle all without warning, but he was used to it regardless. Finland let out a quiet sigh, glancing around the various trees; oh well, at least it seemed like he was alone at the moment, which was all he honestly could ask for.
The Russian had been visiting with some of the colder countries, and he was currently just strolling through the park silently. He'd found an old trenchcoat that now fit him, and he readjusted his ushanka on his snowy-colored curls as he sighed softly. He didn't know why he was here, but he kept walking as he hummed to himself quietly. "Hmm..." His eyes closed as he came to a halt, unintentionally standing in the Nordic country's view as he held his arms behind his back. His trench coat fluttered in the wind slowly, his eyes softly glimmering as he opened them a bit. It truly felt like he was at peace despite the slight cold stinging at his arms, and he looked up at the sky as he sighed peacefully.
Finland's eyes dragged lazily along the snowy, tree-decorated scenery before him in the park, merely enjoying it for what it was, happy to simply dwell in the conserved space, risk-free from being demolished. It reminded him of the happy days of his past, his eyes following a snowflake as it fell from the sky, up until his gaze caught on a tall figure dressed in a trench coat, a painfully similar to the bloody war he fought many years back with the communistic figure USSR himself. The more Finland thought about it, the more similarities he saw with the situation, swiftly growing uncomfortable and thus disrupting his otherwise expressionless and stoic expression and posture. He had literally fought Soviet tanks and properly equipped soldiers with little to nothing; just sleds, and random selections of things that theoretically *could* be used as weapons, there was nothing definitive about the weaponry he had back then, and it was a miracle of luck he was even able to survive due to the tanks not being properly equipped to tread through *Finnish* snow rather than Soviet. Finland let out a uneasy half-laugh, trying to wrap his head around what he was seeing while dealing with the cruel flashbacks; he genuinely thought that the ghost of the USSR had come back to haunt him, standing otherwise silently in petrified fear. Well, he tried telling himself, if fate was so cruel to let him die right then and there by the hands of his old enemy, that was a decision he'd have to accept. Not like he had much of a choice otherwise, unable to move from his terror, merely watching like a deer in headlights while trying his best to keep his breathing stable in order to not go into a panic attack.
His sensitive hearing immediately picked up the noise the Finnish man had made, making him perk up and look over towards him with soft confusion. It took him a moment to understand what was going on, and even then, he wasn't truly sure if he fully understood, but he walked over while shedding his coat. He could go without anyways, he was used to much worse temperatures. He moved close to him, although he kept a respectful distance as he watched him for a moment. "...Финляндия?" He spoke after a moment, speaking his mother tongue since he wasn't exactly expecting to have to speak English out here. Or speak at all, for that matter, but that was an issue for later. Finland was having an issue, and he was concerned. What had made him like this? He wasn't entirely sure.
The Finnish man visibly flinched and took a wary step back when Russia had approached, keeping his full undivided attention on him, a rarity that never presented itself unless he felt threatened in some aspect. Though, Russia himself wasn't nearly as intimidating as the guy's father, in Finland's opinion, but their deathly similarities terrified him to death nonetheless. "Anglais, s'il vous plait..." He muttered out wearily, doing his best to calm his own nerves by fiddling with his butterfly knife. It was extremely out-of-character for him to act so skittish or hesitant, or even to mix up the languages in which he knew, but, at the same time, it wasn't exactly a common occurrence for him to get caught in his past and stuck in his thoughts.
He blinked quietly, slightly confused, but glanced away as he cleared his throat. "Finland, what's the matter?" He'd switched over pretty quickly, and his accent wasn't as thick as his father's used to be. He watched him for a moment before shifting as he put his arms behind his head, trying his best not to yawn in his slight boredom. This situation was weird, but at least he could sort of understand where Finland was coming from. His father was a very intimidating person, and the torture he routinely put his children through, especially Russia himself, was pretty rough. He watched him for a moment, then took off his hat and hummed. "It's alright, I'm no threat." Usually Russia would *want* to show himself as a threat to other countries so that they wouldn't mess with him or his family, but at the same time, that's how his father usually presented himself. It was a mixed bag.
"Your father had said the very same thing," Finland hastily responded, not bothering to cover up his almost sloppy-sounding accent, taking yet another trepid step back. He wasn't very trusting of anyone outside of the Nordics or the Baltics, so that came as no surprise; at least some parts of him were still the same, though his voice had been laced with an underlying sickness, as if he had become queazy or ill from the mere pang of a reminder of once trusting people had earned him. He continued to twirl around the blade in his hand, it providing a little comfort that he had a genuine weapon to use if need it be, in case things turned sour. He forced himself to look down at the snow around his feet, attempting to ground himself with the familiar and calming sight, though it only seemed to put him further on edge. "What do you want? Leave me alone; I don't like you, and I sure as hell don't like *your kind*," Finland hissed out, though it was clear he wasn't talking to Russia himself, rather, talking to the similarities that the man in front of him shared with his father. That was all he could think about at the moment, unable to see past it as if he thought the uncharacteristic worry he was shown was a ruse; and he *did* genuinely believe it was a ruse, since such ruses were how the ''great'' Soviet Union was able to hold people underneath his thumbs.
That felt a bit upsetting to the Russian, and he sighed as he looked at him. His stoic nature had him just watching the Finnish man as he sighed softly, shaking his head. "I just came to check on you." He said in return, then held up his hands. "I don't have any weapons, and I won't attack you. I'm not like my father." The Russian had always tried his best not to give the other countries any reason to believe he was like his father, mostly since a lot of them had an issue with his father. WW2 had been rough for everyone, especially the Finnish man, so he kept trying to be friendly with him. "Finland. I promise I'm not gonna do anything to you." He promised quietly, looking down at him silently as he sighed softly. "I promise." He hummed out as he watched him silently, swallowing slowly in his slight nervousness.
Finland paused for a few moments; promises were never something the old Soviet country had made unless he was being true to his word, the Finnish man remembered that much, so, if the ''like-father, like-son'' phrase held even a shred of truth, then he'd ease up. And he did so, but not by much, only settling to tuck his blade back into his pocket instead of nervously twirling it around, straightening his posture once again so he didn't visibly seem as mentally terrorized. "Sinun on parempi olla valehtelematta," He muttered out, more towards himself as a comfort rather than anything else, letting out a shaky sigh as he looked back up to the Russian. "Out of all the men you could look like, you had to look so deathly similar to your father, huh?" Finland offered out as an attempt to lightly joke about it, though it was slightly forced since such casual humour typically wasn't his strong suit; neither were most emotions, but hey, he was bordering on a panic attack so maybe he could make an exception for once.
He blinked softly before laughing quietly, clearing his throat as he looked down at him. "Отец always said I looked like my mother...but then again, he used that to bring me down rather than compliment me." His tone was mostly lighthearted, even if what he said was true. As much as Soviet loved Russia's mother, he always saw her as weaker than him, like he saw many people. The Russian took a soft breath before clearing his throat and smiling shakily at him, gently tapping his fingers on his arm as he sighed. "It's, um...nice to see you." He hummed out as he watched him, replacing his hat on his head to cover up his fluffy curls while putting his other hand into his pocket. Once it came out, it was holding a phone as he opened it in order to check at his emails. The Finnish man wouldn't have to look at him entirely, instead they could just speak as much as they both wanted.
Finland let out a quiet hum, softly tucking his hands into the pockets of his winter-heavy coat to protect them from the icy breeze that blew past rather than to pull anything out of them. Though, he was admittedly a little thankful to have the opportunity presented to him so that he didn't necessarily have to stare at Russia head-on awkwardly, looking back down to the snow at his feet while softly kicking at it in order to give himself something to do. "Your mother must've been nice, I'm sure... But, uhm, yeah, it's nice to see you too. It's been... Awhile," He muttered out, his draining social abilities apparent from the events of that morning, though he did try to at least be polite. Though, even he couldn't help himself from pulling out a little portion of jerky and snacking on it; his nerves required to be soothed, and jerky usually was just the trick. Plus, it was *a lot* healthier than gaining a handful more wounds dotting his arms that he'd have to painstakingly take care of later, so that was decent at the very least.
"The unions tend to hold me down with work, I just made sure to finish the things that I needed to do. I'm sure I can handle the rest later." He hummed out as he looked up at him slightly, then sighed as he put his phone away. "Or Poli could do it..." The Russian seemed slightly annoyed, but he was very thankful for the Governmental. He glanced at the Finnish man before sitting down, humming to himself as he closed his eyes calmly. The cold was biting at his skin, but he didn't seem to mind. If anything, he seemed to like the way it stung his skin, reminding him that he still felt things. He gently put his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. "Has your Governmental made any friends, or is he as shy as you?" He half-teased, not intending to insult him and more trying to poke fun.
The Finnish man blinked a few times, his brows knitting together in brief confusion. Did he really seem shy? That was the first he had been called that since his childhood, something he certainly wasn't all that used to. Whatever, Finland brushed it off regardless, shifting to take a seat next to Russia, though kept a respectful distance for his own mental sake and comfort. "Geo? Oh, yeah, he's a lot more sociable than I am, that's for sure. I think he's friends with the Governmental of each of the countries I talk to, to say the least, maybe even some of the Mediterranean ones. He really likes Estonia's though; always pressuring me to let him visit. He's lucky we don't get much of a workload, otherwise I might not be so easy on him..." Finland muttered out, for once going into a bit of detail about something rather than dully and vaguely answering.
"He's a good person. Him and Poli seem to get along most of the time, even if Poli's a bit..." He started, then sighed and didn't finish. Russia's Governmental tended to be almost as cold as Soviet, if not completely. It took a lot of mental fortitude to completely control him, and oftentimes the two Russians would be seen glaring at one another. Often they'd be cursing each other out in Russian, having a serious disdain for one another but being forced to work together. Apart, they got a decent amount of work done, but together, it took a while for them to get even one thing done. When they did get it done, it would be very well-done, but it would take a good while.
Finland only hummed in response, taking a small chomp of the jerky he held, understanding of the Russian's newfound silence having met and dealt with Russia's Governmental a few times before, hence why he almost always asked for his own to take care of anything related to the Slavic country's government. "Imagine not getting along with your own Governmental," He stated as a half-tease, attempting to get back at Russia for his own half-tease Finland had to sit through moments earlier, while a small but visible smile adorned his face, taking yet another chomp of his beloved reindeer jerky.
"О, как ты меня ранил, друг мой." The Russian placed his hand onto his own chest as he looked at the Nordic country, scoffing softly. "How could you say that to me?" He played along, then hummed as he closed his eyes again with a soft sigh. "But you're right. I just think he doesn't like me. He never has." He shrugged softly as he sat there, sighing out again while thinking. "Even when my father was in charge, he never did much besides listening to father's orders. That and make sure Ukraine didn't blow something up." He scoffed softly, rolling his eyes. His brother was nice, but sometimes he wondered what was going on in his head.
"Считайте это окупаемостью," Finland offered out with a slightly warmer smile, evidently growing more comfortable around the Russian, silently relieved that he didn't seem to mimic much of his father nor his habits, earning him to contently sigh. He hugged his knees to his chest once he had finished the last bite of his jerky, humming softly for a moment, "Yeah, I remember how badly he scolded Ukraine after the Chernobyl accident, poor fella. At least he's eased up on the idea of using nuclear energy as a result though, even I have to thank Poli for that much." He stated calmly, casually even, looking back down to the snow in front of him, ever so slightly getting an idea. It would have to wait until later, though, considering he didn't feel like getting chased by the Russian because of attempting to jokingly throw a snowball at him.
The Russian tsked softly as he closed his eyes, humming to himself and smiling lightly. "Would you want to go somewhere, get food maybe?" He asked quietly, clearly unused to having to ask for this. Usually people asked [i him] to go out somewhere, watching him for a moment before softly pulling his coat around him with a soft shudder. The cold was finally biting through his clothes slightly, humming softly as he took a shaky breath. "Whew..." His cold tolerance would allow him to stay out here for a while longer, but he would definitely rather go drink than stay out here. Obviously he could find an abandoned bar, maybe they could go together.
Finland dropped his internal plans to figure out a means to somehow yeet a snowball at the Russian like a hot potato, perking up a little at the mention of food, quietly furiously nodding a few times. "Это было бы хорошо," Hey, you couldn't blame him for accepting a good meal whenever offered to him, let alone appreciating the offer in and of itself. If the cliche saying was true, then the way to his heart was through his stomach, earning him to silently laugh to himself. Though, the Finnish man did seem a little surprised, as normally he was just dragged to somewhere without being asked beforehand, having gotten accustomed to it with plenty of thanks to the fellow Nordic countries. The Baltics were a little more reasonable, at least saying where they were going before they strung him along. Finland wasn't going to complain anytime soon about it, however, instead giving a gentle tug to the collar of his coat and pulling it over his nose, much like a mask, since his lower face had gotten cold.
["That'd be nice,"]
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