A/N: Anri is Belgium. Just to let you guys know. Yeah. And I chose Abel for the Netherlands name.
Anri Vermeulen
North-Eastern France
I'm sitting in the place France likes to call the détente area, chatting with none other than France himself, when my brother stalks by, equipped to the teeth with protective gear. Immediately, I jump up and follow, leaving France looking vaguely annoyed behind me on a red couch.
"Where are you going, Abey?" I ask him when I catch up.
"Out," he replies. Like it's the most normal thing in the world.
Our Sanctuary is very open and very beautiful. Tall, gilded archways and ornate, laminated floors. There's only four levels, two of which we can access, and then a huge staircase up in the northern-most section that leads to an air locked series of doors. So four and a half levels, I guess. There are fake flowers and plants everywhere too. I think France would have preferred them to be real, but everyone agrees that it's best that we save what water we can.
I link one of my arms with my brother's, forcing him to slow down. I pout up at him. "Without saying goodbye?"
"You were busy," he says. "I would have, but you seemed kind of star-struck." I respond by smacking his arm lightly.
We reach the northern staircase. It reminds me of something you would have seen at a ball decades upon decades ago. My brother and I slowly make our way up.
Abel is leaving to go visit one of the Dutch Sanctuaries along the border of the Netherlands. Every now and then he ventures up there to visit his citizens. He would have preferred to just stay in a Sanctuary with his people, but his boss somehow forced him to stay here. So he just goes on routine visits, instead.
We reach a small landing that looks very plain compared to the rest of the dwelling. The architects probably expected that most of the inhabitants would be spending their time in the fancier rooms, rather than right by the front door. The floor is still laminated, but it's just a simple white, and there are no arches or anything here. There is a small, red rug, but that's all the decoration for this spot.
"Well, good luck. Try to be careful, Abe?" I stand on my toes and kiss my brother's chin.
He gives me a crooked smile. "Who do you take me for? Mathias? I'll be fine."
I nod. "See you when you get back."
"See you when I get back." And with that, he makes his way through the many doors between us and the outside world.
After he's gone, I go back to where I left France. He's still there, except now joined by Antonio. I force myself into a spot between them, and immediately join in on their conversation. France looks a little miffed that I left earlier, but he'll probably forget it soon.
We mostly talk about our citizens and the other nations. Apparently, France heard that, not only are there tons of other sanctuaries that house of citizens, there's a handful that also house the other nations. This makes for very intense discussion.
"But I thought they were all gone? Dead?" I say, keeping my voice low. It wouldn't do for this to get around. On one hand, it could be false, and then everyone would be crushed. On the other hand, it could be true, and everyone would rush out to go find their loved ones.
"That's what we were told. But there was a traveler from the East," France informs us.
Spain pipes in at that. "Someone actually traveled across the wastelands?"
"Apparently." France hunches down, a hand rubbing his chin. "And he claimed to have been in contact with a Sanctuary in Eastern Russia before he came to France. Said he tried to get in, but they kicked him out."
"And that's why he came West?" Spain's brows are furrowed. Every time a straggler has shown up at our Sanctuary, Spain has demanded that we take them in. It makes sense that he'd be bothered by the thought of a Sanctuary leaving someone to fend for themselves in a wasteland.
"Why come this far? Why not try one of the countries closer to Russia?" I ask.
France shrugs. "Could be any number of reasons. Maybe there aren't any Sanctuaries fit to live in."
That would be worrying. I knew Europe was in bad form, but that would be much worse than expected. Glancing at a small, Swiss clock on a side table, I rise.
"Well, it was nice talking to you, gentlemen," I say, giving them a small curtsy. "But I'm afraid that I have some other business to attend to."
They both bid me goodbye before turning back to the topic of mysterious Russian travelers. I leave them to it, heading back to the staircase.
Near the entrance is a selection of protective gear. Simple enough, just heavy duty jackets and pants, with backpacks to take along. The backpacks have things such as water, food and other basic survival necessities. They're restocked regularly, for those going outside. I slip on a jacket and a pair of pants, before grabbing a backpack.
It's been approximately half an hour since Abel left. There's no way he'll see me leaving now.
I unlock the pressurized door and exit the French Sanctuary.