call me out.

[valdemar]

➫ 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

Comments

[smorbror]

[ 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.

[danishes]

( 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!

[smorbror]

[ 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.

He promptly drops Denmark on the ground. ]

Now he's gotta wait another thirty years.

[danishes]

( 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!

[smorbror]

[ 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.

[danishes]

I ain't a runt! I'm only a centimeter shorter than Sve and he cheats! ( denmark manages to wheeze, even as he collapses and attempts to spring back up again, because this is clearly the important part of whatever the hell nor just said.

once he's on his feet again — he's like one of those inflatable punching bags — he brushes grass stains off his trouser legs and is all smiles again. ) What foal? Ya mean the goat?

[smorbror]

[ He steps back before Denmark even gets back up, knowing what to expect, and then promptly crosses his arms to avoid any unnecessary touching. ]

Do ya know what a goat looks like? [ He sighs; it's really so obvious. ] How'd ya get here? Weren't invited.

[danishes]

I came to surprise ya by seeing me. You're always sayin' I gotta appreciate mountains more, so now we're havin' a great best friends camping trip together! ( he even spreads out his arms — look at me enjoying being on top of a mountain — as he makes his grand proclamation. ) I already rescued ya from the weird goats so this is goin' amazin'!