➫ PICK a character from the list above. ➫ PLACE their name in the subject line. ➫ FILL the comment with a picture, prompt, or absolutely nothing, to allow me the chance to make something up! ➫ RP WITH ME h u f f s
( it's kind of like, don't get him wrong! if there's anything denmark loves it's spending time with his best friend! even if that means he has to leave his rental car at the bottom of some dumb, lame mountain, and hike forever, and drink all the beer he'd brought on the way instead of when he arrived because the cans were getting heavy, and there are bugs everywhere, and he gets rocks in his boots twice, which shouldn't even be possible because these are some pretty tall boots.
all this to surprise nor with his best friend to make his camping trip even better! shit! nor had better be really grateful! denmark likes the outdoors, sure, but not when it gets all… slant-y… like this. mountains. nothing good has ever come from mountains. he's grumbling to himself, a right proper sulk, by the time he makes it to the top, or the flat part, or whatever, the part where nor's shitty little cabin is, and he very nearly grumbles his way into the middle of the scene that is set before him when he arrives, which is…
[ It's a tradition more than anything. He comes up once every couple decades or so, to this isolated clearing undisturbed for a long while. He'll sit on his porch and discuss recent events with his friends ('The elks need the disco poles'—), watch their rituals, greet the new creatures. Iceland is the only he's ever discussed it with, and yet— ]
Get outta there, you! [ Faster than he does most things, he's grabbing the back of Denmark's collar and pulling him back from the bonding moment. ] Don't make any loud noises.
( it's an attack, right? these deformed livestock and elks are trying to kill nor, right? that's the only reason why he's surrounded, the enemy has gotten —
denmark's understanding and building attack are cut off by a mysterious yet familiar choking feeling as he's suddenly yanked and dragged away. this is perplexing and yet familiar, and he uses the last of his oxygen to shout out: ) Don't run away! I'll kill them all for ya!
[ He's about to close his hand over Denmark's mouth after his shouting, preferably over his nose as well to cut him off completely, but a distinct silence rings out before he can. When he looks back, there's a cloud of dust and the two creatures are gone.
( denmark lands in a very undignified heap with an oof!, scrambling to his feet with speed and reflexes he usually doesn't show much anymore, because the kind of kidding around between best friends doesn't lend itself to fighting instincts of course! … and then he realises that the stuff he's gotta fight has suddenly vanished, and he's all grins again. )
Hah! Nor, look, I scared 'em off an' saved ya! ( SEEMS LIKE A GOOD TIME FOR A HUG he decides, going in for one as he adds: ) Forget about thirty years, it'll be three hundred!
[ The irritation Norway feels cannot be expressed on his face, rather in a sort of dark aura around his person if that is at all possible. It is also manifested in his fist lunging against Denmark's stomach before enough contact for a hug can be made. ]
Think'a how the foal feels. He's gonna be the runt, 'n no girls'll want him. Ya can relate.
( if there's one thing denmark doesn't like about iceland — and really, there's not a lot of things like that, aside from his tastes in food and that he doesn't call or visit as much as he should, and maybe that he's so weirdly sensitive, but aside from that, it's that he doesn't dress well.
it's not like den's some kind of weird southern dandy like france — and he thinks the word 'dandy' without realising how dated it is; the perils of being two thousand years plus — but you've got to look nice. it's one of the first rules of diplomacy, looking confident and put together, and more than that, it's makes denmark look super cool and handsome. not that he doesn't anyway, but.
but, iceland … yep. it's sad to say, but iceland definitely got nor's genetic terrible clothing sense. that's what brings them to this boutique today. well — "brings them." more like denmark said he wanted to pop in here really fast, and then promptly (and in his mind cunningly) started holding things up for ice to examine. )
You'd love to wear this, right? ( holding up a pair of bright red, and probably kind of tight, trousers and not using an indoor voice at all. )
No. [ Iceland isn't subtle about pushing Denmark's hand - and those pants - away. The funny thing about that, if you could really consider it funny, is that while skinny, or maybe even tight jeans aren't an issue in and of themselves, the color is all wrong! Bright red? No way. Iceland isn't about brightly colored clothes, even less so if they were picked out by Denmark - not that Denmark doesn't have taste, but he's older. He can't possibly be knowledgeable about what teenagers like to wear. ]
Besides, didn't you want to get something? [ Read, "why are we shopping for me?" ]
Yeah, of course I'm paying! ( read: "are you going to get, by which i mean pay for, this if i decide i want it?" denmark gets the blank, expectant look he sometimes has when he doesn't quite understand, but is sure everything is going according to plan anyway. he obediently puts the pants back down, and searches for his next pick. ) Or how about a nice jacket?
Really? ( iceland is giving him free reign to pick out his clothing!? denmark looks suddenly, dangerously, incredibly excited by this prospect. he was expecting a lot more of a struggle! good job, ice, understanding that your brother has superior tastes! ) In that case, I know what'll look great on ya…!
Wh- what? No! You have the wrong idea! [ TRYING TO CHASE AFTER while not running. And trying to not look like he's obviously going after this madman. ]
( when it comes to the cold, denmark has mixed feelings. yes; it's in his blood. he's nordic, snow and ice and freezing weather are a fact of life, something deep in his bones and as old as he is. on the other hand, it's cold. the best part of the middle of winter is being away from it; his earliest memories are dim longhouses in the darkest parts of winter, listening to tales and staring unfocused at the smoke, warm under furs…
and centuries later, things aren't all that different. denmark's house — manor, really — is bigger now, with windows and art and other fine things he likes to be around: but there's still a fire, and it's still winter, and dark, and cold everywhere but here. the downside of a large house is it's more difficult to heat, so denmark's barricaded them in the master bedroom with bread and other food, dismissed the servants, and built up the fire to last the night; then he ruins any elegant atmosphere this may have conjured up by flopping onto the bed like a whale breaching the ocean's surface. )
[ Norway is more fond of the cold, something that hardly needs to be stated at this point. Winter is an unavoidable fact that requires preparation and strength; both of which Denmark does not have, or so Norway used to tease. So it doesn't bother him when certain parts of Denmark's house become chilled. All of Denmark's complaining could be solved with a less opulent house, anyway.
Despite all of that, he does not protest when Denmark suggests a way to get warm. He becomes preoccupied with the food on the table—more than a night's worth—and stuffs his face with the bread. He hardly bothers to finish swallowing it before he talks; this is hardly meant to be formal. ]
Like ya don't know. So he goes to Sweden and gets the throne after his dad. 'course they mindlessly give him their gold and silver, and he felt bad enough for 'em that he let them have good seasons. He becomes rich and popular but the air there's so bad that he loses the will to live and keels over. Now, ya think Sweden's smart enough to get a clue?
( of course he knows. although he prefers to leave the tellings to others he knows the stories back to front, any version you'd care to name. but he likes making norway tell them. likes norway talking, likes watching him talk, and listening to him talk. there's a sentimental thought in there somewhere, but denmark doesn't know how to articulate it. he rolls ungainly on the feather mattress, floundering a bit, and tries to reach the cheese on the table without actually getting up. )
He ain't smart enough to get a thing. Or rich and popular. ( lately popular makes him think of wars and allies — denmark grunts a bit and gives up on his quest for cheese. ) What happens when he dies?
[ If there is anything that can persuade Norway to say more than usual, it's stories. It's only natural to him, and likely to the rest of them. This is how they used to keep track of things, their pasts, their lives.
When he notices Denmark going for the cheese, he picks up a portion and eats it with his bread. ]
Freyr's closest men find him dead, but Sweden's too blind to notice. They trick him and tell him Freyr's busy and collect the taxes on their own. Three years he doesn't notice a thing, and doesn't even burn the body. S'why Sweden's house is cursed now. [ After his story, he grabs another bit of cheese and makes himself at home on the bed, tossing the cheese to Denmark. ]
Hmm! ( denmark says in the end, pretending to think and consider the morals of the tale; he's also going for the cheese and breaking a smaller piece off with his fingers, which he tosses into his mouth with relish. )
When I was a kid I didn't think he was so dumb, ( he says with his mouth full, almost apologetically like it's a moral failing, ) but I wonder how the people who told the sagas knew even back then! Those guys were pretty clever!
A very beautiful night, and Tohru has gotten lost in the words on her way home from work. Overworking herself, she got a fever and didn't really pay attention to that turn and now she's staring at the sky, in a small field. Wherever that is.
Kyo'd been out of the house for most of the day. After school, he'd gone to Shishou's for practice, and eaten dinner there. He hadn't been in a huge hurry to get back after dinner, so he'd only beaten Tohru home by a few minutes. Or, well, he would have, if she was there… After hearing from Shigure that she was still at work, and after cursing Yuki for being too busy with student council crap to do his job and pick her up from work, he'd headed out to search for her himself.
The night is quickly turning chilly, and he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets as he walks. If he were Tohru, where would he be? When she doesn't appear on any of the main roads, he starts to worry a little, doubling back towards the house. Is she actually lost? What if she is? He makes a shrewd guess at the turn and goes in the direction Tohru earlier had, although by now it's been several minutes indeed.
Tohru had a mental checklist going on in her mind when she was walking, but it was difficult to think because if she were honest with herself, she wasn't feeling that well. She had a bad habit of taking on too much and not enough breaks for herself, and it bit her more often than she should let it.
When it comes to it, she really shouldn't have spaced out, because now she's standing in a clearing and Tohru isn't exactly sure how she got here. Turning around, she can't see the path behind her. She can't help but pause and look at the sky. The moon is bright and beautiful, even though there are clouds.
Wow mom, it's really pretty tonight. She thinks to herself.
It's probably a good ten minutes later that Kyo finds his way to the same field, a little bit out of breath but doing his best not to let it show. When he spots the familiar figure in the clearing, he feels a wave of relief… and also a wave of annoyance. "What the hell are you doing out here?" he demands, crossing the grass towards Tohru. He's been looking — this is the middle of nowhere! What if something had happened?
She's startled out of her thoughts, which isn't all that surprising the way that Tohru has a tendency to space out from time to time. She spins around to look at Kyo and she smiles a little. "Kyo...Oh, um, I'm not entirely sure where I am so I was admiring the sky." She smiles at him.
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danes
oh you actually……
all this to surprise nor with his best friend to make his camping trip even better! shit! nor had better be really grateful! denmark likes the outdoors, sure, but not when it gets all… slant-y… like this. mountains. nothing good has ever come from mountains. he's grumbling to himself, a right proper sulk, by the time he makes it to the top, or the flat part, or whatever, the part where nor's shitty little cabin is, and he very nearly grumbles his way into the middle of the scene that is set before him when he arrives, which is…
which… is…
is…
i s . . . )
Nor… your goats are deformed…!
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Get outta there, you! [ Faster than he does most things, he's grabbing the back of Denmark's collar and pulling him back from the bonding moment. ] Don't make any loud noises.
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denmark's understanding and building attack are cut off by a mysterious yet familiar choking feeling as he's suddenly yanked and dragged away. this is perplexing and yet familiar, and he uses the last of his oxygen to shout out: ) Don't run away! I'll kill them all for ya!
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He promptly drops Denmark on the ground. ]
Now he's gotta wait another thirty years.
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Hah! Nor, look, I scared 'em off an' saved ya! ( SEEMS LIKE A GOOD TIME FOR A HUG he decides, going in for one as he adds: ) Forget about thirty years, it'll be three hundred!
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Think'a how the foal feels. He's gonna be the runt, 'n no girls'll want him. Ya can relate.
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dadbro i guess (eyeroll)
I DON'T MOONSPEAK
it's not like den's some kind of weird southern dandy like france — and he thinks the word 'dandy' without realising how dated it is; the perils of being two thousand years plus — but you've got to look nice. it's one of the first rules of diplomacy, looking confident and put together, and more than that, it's makes denmark look super cool and handsome. not that he doesn't anyway, but.
but, iceland … yep. it's sad to say, but iceland definitely got nor's genetic terrible clothing sense. that's what brings them to this boutique today. well — "brings them." more like denmark said he wanted to pop in here really fast, and then promptly (and in his mind cunningly) started holding things up for ice to examine. )
You'd love to wear this, right? ( holding up a pair of bright red, and probably kind of tight, trousers and not using an indoor voice at all. )
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Besides, didn't you want to get something? [ Read, "why are we shopping for me?" ]
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[ In his defense, he didn't wear one of his lopapeysas out on this venture. But he did bring two of them with him... ]
Can't you just buy whatever it is you want?
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( ZOOMS ACROSS THE STORE IN A RED BLUR. )
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married danes
by married i'm just going to assume you meant 1790s yep
and centuries later, things aren't all that different. denmark's house — manor, really — is bigger now, with windows and art and other fine things he likes to be around: but there's still a fire, and it's still winter, and dark, and cold everywhere but here. the downside of a large house is it's more difficult to heat, so denmark's barricaded them in the master bedroom with bread and other food, dismissed the servants, and built up the fire to last the night; then he ruins any elegant atmosphere this may have conjured up by flopping onto the bed like a whale breaching the ocean's surface. )
Tell the one about Freyr next!
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Despite all of that, he does not protest when Denmark suggests a way to get warm. He becomes preoccupied with the food on the table—more than a night's worth—and stuffs his face with the bread. He hardly bothers to finish swallowing it before he talks; this is hardly meant to be formal. ]
Like ya don't know. So he goes to Sweden and gets the throne after his dad. 'course they mindlessly give him their gold and silver, and he felt bad enough for 'em that he let them have good seasons. He becomes rich and popular but the air there's so bad that he loses the will to live and keels over. Now, ya think Sweden's smart enough to get a clue?
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He ain't smart enough to get a thing. Or rich and popular. ( lately popular makes him think of wars and allies — denmark grunts a bit and gives up on his quest for cheese. ) What happens when he dies?
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When he notices Denmark going for the cheese, he picks up a portion and eats it with his bread. ]
Freyr's closest men find him dead, but Sweden's too blind to notice. They trick him and tell him Freyr's busy and collect the taxes on their own. Three years he doesn't notice a thing, and doesn't even burn the body. S'why Sweden's house is cursed now. [ After his story, he grabs another bit of cheese and makes himself at home on the bed, tossing the cheese to Denmark. ]
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When I was a kid I didn't think he was so dumb, ( he says with his mouth full, almost apologetically like it's a moral failing, ) but I wonder how the people who told the sagas knew even back then! Those guys were pretty clever!
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The Cute Kitten!
A very beautiful night, and Tohru has gotten lost in the words on her way home from work. Overworking herself, she got a fever and didn't really pay attention to that turn and now she's staring at the sky, in a small field. Wherever that is.
sorry for the delay! i caught a bug.
The night is quickly turning chilly, and he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets as he walks. If he were Tohru, where would he be? When she doesn't appear on any of the main roads, he starts to worry a little, doubling back towards the house. Is she actually lost? What if she is? He makes a shrewd guess at the turn and goes in the direction Tohru earlier had, although by now it's been several minutes indeed.
No worries!
When it comes to it, she really shouldn't have spaced out, because now she's standing in a clearing and Tohru isn't exactly sure how she got here. Turning around, she can't see the path behind her. She can't help but pause and look at the sky. The moon is bright and beautiful, even though there are clouds.
Wow mom, it's really pretty tonight. She thinks to herself.
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