eighteenth bottle of vodka; [audio; Russian / accidental video]

[cccpfuckyeah]

[The video clatters on by the force of gravity, as it slipped and fell from someone's pocket. Russia's pocket, actually. One can see him hunched over the sink, and from the motions it's probably assumed that he's washing his hands. That and the sound of water greet the device for a few moments, before he starts speaking.]

Place is filthy. It's

Comments

[brbmodernizing]

[QUIETLY OBSERVING... h-he's avoiding you, but..]

[cccpfuckyeah]

[CONTINUING TO WASH HIS HANDS which are dry from the act and bleeding btw if you were curious Japons.]

[brbmodernizing]

[He wanted to avoid talking to you, but....]

...Russia-san.

[cccpfuckyeah]

[He doesn't reply, but the faucet does, once he shuts it off.

Drip. Drip. Drip.]

[brbmodernizing]

Russia-san.

[cccpfuckyeah]

It's everywhere.

[brbmodernizing]

Russia-san! Calm yourself!

[cccpfuckyeah]

[.....okay so he quiets down again. Quiet is calm, right?]

[brbmodernizing]

What is going on?

[cccpfuckyeah]

There's blood. Everywhere. The smell is all over the place!

[brbmodernizing]

... Blood from what?

[cccpfuckyeah]

From you, from them, from the skies.

The fields are covered in it and it's smothering the flowers!

[brbmodernizing]

[That's kind of really creepy stare stare stare hesitation]

... The flowers are not being smothered.

[cccpfuckyeah]

Da, they are.

[He sways a bit, and then giggles, dropping his voice into a whisper.]

Only Yaponiya-kun's trees flourish with the blood of the deceased.

[brbmodernizing]

[He's quiet for a moment because fdlkgjklds creepy and he's remembering why he had wanted to avoid Russia. This newly planted fear. The realization that he had lost.

He tried his best to swallow those things]

My trees do no such thing.