reckless_eagle: (Ohmigod shut up)
[Poland is standing in the front hall, his cloak wrapped tight around him to hold off the chill and a look of extreme displeasure on his face.]

Like, what gives today? The door totally won't open, and neither will the windows! It's like, um, hello, the horses totally aren't gonna feed themselves out there!

I mean, I guess this weather isn't too weird--it's totes already the second week of Advent and all, can you believe that?--but come on!
reckless_eagle: (What do you mean married?!)
[Okay. Okay, so Dave has pretty much been... just sort of not noticing or ignoring his attention so far, he guesses? Which is lame, but he has another plan up his flower-covered, voluminous sleeve!]

So, like, I've been thinking! [Off to a good start, not looking too nervous yet...]

Okay, so last time I was here, I went, like, two years without any kind of boss, right, and it was super weird! And I'm totally an elective monarchy now--well, Liet and I are, but I think I still outvote him?--which means I basically get to pick whoever I want to rule, so, like... [Aaaaaand now comes the flustering! He stammers a couple of times, then finally manages to spit it out, blushing furiously.]

I-I totally want Dave to be my king!
reckless_eagle: (This is Polish territory!)
[Oh, look who it is on the screen! It's Poland! Looking very cute today, in a tunic and leggings that are totally manly in his time but just look like a short dress with tights to most modern people. He's scampering around his room, carrying armfuls of... stockings?]

[Yes. Stockings. A vast assortment of stockings, with which he is festooning every corner of his and Liet's room.]

[This is all Dave's fault, really.]
reckless_eagle: (That one stung)
[Loud, panicked whinnying is heard as the communicator turns on. At first, all that can be seen is a rough, earthen floor, but then slim, bloody fingers turn it over carefully.]

[Poland's a bit of a mess. There's dirt, gravel, and blood in his hair, and he's bleeding from his neck enough to make him pale and somewhat disoriented.]

Guys...? [He pauses. It's apparently pretty hard to talk with a neck wound.] ...Masked man. Like. Be careful.

[He trails off, staring into the middle distance for a few moments, evidently just spacing out.]

...Need help with the horses. They won't calm down.

[Miserably:] Liet's gonna worry.

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