reckless_eagle: (I have so had it up to here!)
[Private to Self, Hackable] )

[Public]

Okay, like, you know what? Screw all this stuff about being losers or jocks or whatever! It's like, the people running around like they own the place, getting off on putting people down or whatever? They're the real losers, and if they think I'm gonna pretend they're half the hot shit they think they are, they've so got another thing coming!

[This, I believe, would be the other losers' cue to try and save him from his own big mouth, or the jocks' cue to visit on him the violence (apparently) due to a scrawny, mouthy little thing who doesn't always speak English or dress according to gender norms. Poland might be a loser, for this event, but he's never a quitter.]
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: (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.]

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reckless_eagle

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