Perpetually Grouchy

Arthur | 37 | Single Please don't ask me about my tattoo. [Dependent on Hetopia]

[punkishpessimism-blog]

songsinseaminor‌:

There was not even a hint of recognition on the siren’s face, none whatsoever. By this point he understood the concept of vegetables, but when it came to their specifics, he was lost. He shook his head.

“There are no potatoes in the ocean,” he stated matter of factually. “So it would be odd if I’d heard of them before.” Roderich took another one of the chips, munching on it thoughtfully. “The ocean certainly has many types of food, but it seems to me that there are just as many types on land that I have never heard of.”

Arthur nodded, grabbing himself a fat slab of fried fish and pouring tartare sauce on top. “Certainly. It’s the same for me, but vice versa. Being a forest sprite, I don’t tend to go into the ocean much. I know that there is fish and seaweed that you can eat from the ocean, but that’s about the extent of my knowledge.”

Chewing on the fish, he asked, “What sorts of land foods do you know about?” He was curious, Roderich was Arthur’s first experience with a siren but it seemed that Arthur wasn’t Roderich’s first experience with landfolk.

[punkishpessimism-blog]

songsinseaminor‌:

Roderich nodded, staying silent for the moment as Arthur explained the food in greater detail. The siren hated his lack of knowledge on these subjects, but it was still fascinating in a way to learn about them. 

“I… suppose I will try one then.” Trying to not seem to eager, Roderich carefully took one of the so called chips in hand, holding it up to get a better look at it, before taking a small, cautious bite. He chewed thoughtfully, then paused a moment to gather his thoughts. “…It is plain. But not in a bad way. I don’t think there’s anything I can compare it to, really.” His diet being mainly fish, any sort of fruit or vegetable was almost always a brand new flavor. “…I think I like it. You said it is made of a potato?”

With a couple more chips in his hand, Arthur chewed thoughtfully on his own food as he observed the siren experience the glory of deep-fried slices of carbohydrate. 

“Yes, it’s potato,” He nodded, pleased that the siren had enjoyed the food. “Have you heard of them before? They’re round vegetables that grow in the ground, terribly delicious. Heaps of ways to cook them; boil ‘em, mash ‘em, stick ‘em in a stew. Chips are by far the best way to consume potatoes though.” 

[punkishpessimism-blog]

songsinseaminor‌:

“I see…” As usual, Roderich didn’t entirely understand everything that was explained to him. There were a lot of new things Arthur was saying, many of which he didn’t recognize at all. But, hating to feel as if he knew less than anyone else, he didn’t ask what mayonnaise or capers were. Or dough, for that matter. Regardless, it all looked and smelled amazing.

“So… you take fish and cover it in this… dough? And this somehow enhances the flavor.” He glanced eagerly at the food, lifting his hand slightly as if to take some. “Ah… and are you supposed to put the sauce on it..? And these “chips,” are they eaten in a similar manner? Or do you eat them plain?” As he spoke, Roderich realized he wasn’t entirely sure he knew what a potato was; yet another thing to add to the ever growing list of land oddities. 

“Yes and no,” Arthur replied, trying to decide what exactly to start with. “It doesn’t really improve the flavour but it makes the texture wonderfully crispy.” He reached out and took a couple of the longer chips, opting to not dip them in the sauce before eating. “It’s up to you, you can eat them with sauce or without. I usually would eat chips with tomato sauce but I completely forgot to get any.”

With his bare feet dangling off the ledge and into the cool seawater, Arthur felt oddly nostalgic. It was the combination of sea salt and deep fried food, chilly ocean and scorching hot sun; memories of hazy summer days spent on the beach. Leaning back and reaching for more, he suggest to Roderich, “Maybe start with a chip. It’s nice and plain but still delicious.”

[punkishpessimism-blog]

songsinseaminor‌:

When Arthur sat upon the ledge, Roderich hauled himself up out of the water as well, taking a spot a reasonable distance away, but not so far that they couldn’t interact. As cautious as he was, he still had to try this food the other had brought, after all.

“Ah, that’s right. You said you… fix instruments, correct?” The harp Arthur had fixed when they first met still sat in the back of Roderich’s cave, away from the water. He’d played it often since, though he was very careful to not damage the strings. “I suppose then,” he continued with a huff, “that your tardiness can be forgiven.” 

The siren glanced over at the package of food Arthur had brought. Though it didn’t smell entirely like the fish he was used to eating, he could still tell that it was indeed fish. “Battered…? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a battered fish before. Is it some kind from another island? And I know what a sauce is, but I don’t think I have had a tartare one before. Or chips.”

Unwrapping the package, Arthur took care to not rip the paper too much as it would serve as a makeshift plate. The food had cooled slightly during the journey, but steam still burst from the food as it was exposed to the air. A healthy dosing of salt glistened on the golden shell of the chips and it took all of Arthur’s self control to not devour the food immediately. He was much more hungry than he initially thought.

“Yes, I do,” Arthur answered as he pulled out his pocket knife and wiped it clean on his hankie. “It’s normally fairly easy-going. I usually only get repair requests every couple of weeks but for some reason it seems like every person on the island has had an instrument in need of a fix.” Slicing the lemon in half and squeezing the juice out over the fish, he said, “I do hope that the food makes up for my absence.”

With the addition of the tartare sauce container, the glorious fried spread was completed. But before either had a chance to begin the feast, Arthur thought it imperative to actually tell Roderich what everything was. It was much too easy for him to forget that the siren wouldn’t have the same base knowledge as he did. “So...battered isn’t actually a type of fish.  Battered just means that it’s been covered in a thin layer of dough before frying. I’m not actually sure what kind of fish it is but it’ll be something local,” Arthur explained. “Tartare sauce is just this mayonnaise and caper sauce that’s especially tasty on fish and chips are just deep-fried potato.

[punkishpessimism-blog]

songsinseaminor‌:

Typically, upon meeting a land dweller that he didn’t immediately kill, Roderich would attempt to cast their meeting from his mind and, for the most part, wouldn’t think twice about them unless he happened to see them again. But Arthur had left quite the impression, for better or for worse. Since they last met, Roderich’s mind had frequently wandered to the memory of the music and instruments he’d been shown, and he found he longed to see the other again, if only to learn more of the music found on land. Not that the siren would ever admit to that; it was easier to pretend he wasn’t so curious that he’d willingly meet with landfolk to learn more.

So when he heard a familiar voice call out his name, he pushed down his immediate excitement, hesitating only a moment before swimming towards his cave. He peeked out from beneath the surface, squinting at the visitor, only relaxing when he was certain it was Arthur (though he could tell from the sound of his voice to begin with).

“Of course I’m around,” he grumbled, expression only slightly betraying the fact that he was happy to see him. “This is where I live.”

Arthur rolled his eyes at the response, far more out of fondness than annoyance. “Well brilliant, because I come bearing takeaways, if you’d care to try some?” He asked, gesturing to the piping hot paper package in his arms. “It’s battered fish and chips with tartare sauce. I even brought a lemon from my garden to squeeze on top.”

Without even waiting for a response, Arthur immediately found himself a rocky ledge to sit upon. He was fairly confident that Roderich would love to try some; the siren’s innate curiosity was Arthur’s favourite part about him. It was something that he himself also had, the remnants of a childhood spent roaming the forest. It was also part of the reason why the two of them were even speaking in the first place. Had Roderich not been a siren, a mythical creature that Arthur had fixated on for years of his childhood, Arthur would’ve tossed him back into the ocean without a second thought during their initial encounter.

“Sorry I haven’t visited earlier, I got bogged down with all sorts of repair jobs as soon as I got home.”

[punkishpessimism-blog]

// Henlo! If you wanna do a thread with any of my boys (Noah, Arthur, Ivan) please like this post :) //

[punkishpessimism-blog]

@songsinseaminor

It’d been a little while since Arthur had seen Roderich. Practically the day after he’d met the siren, Arthur had been bombarded by instrument repair requests; he’d barely even had the time to go on his usual daily walks. His days had turned into an endless cycle of sleeping, eating, and repairing hordes of instruments. As he tuned the final string on an old Pfreitzchner cello, he let out a sigh of relief. Instrument repairs may be a job that Arthur enjoyed, but even fun things became strenuous after a while.

Having spare time felt strange now. He’d been so overloaded in work that he wasn’t even quite sure what to do with himself now that it was all over. With that thought, his stomach growled loudly and he knew what he was going to do.

A few hours later, Arthur was walking along the beach with a steaming hot pack of fish and chips he’d picked up earlier from his local takeaways place and a lemon he’d plucked from his garden. He wasn’t sure if it would be insensitive to eat fish in front of the siren, but seeing as the siren had literally tried to murder him upon their first encounter, he didn’t really care. 

“Roderich? You around?” He called out as he neared the cave.

[dancingwiththepixies-blog]

[knock knock] Happy birthday, Lara! [Arthur's standing at her door holding a plate of /very/ burnt looking scones]

Lara blinks down at the plate, but, she knew Arthur so well, that she couldn’t help but to smile fondly at him, he’d remembered, and that was what was important to her, the scones.. She’d deal with that later.

“Thank you, Arthur, you’re so sweet for that, do come in. I can put the kettle on, if you’d like. I’ve also got some brownies I was working on. Would you like to taste test?” If it wasn’t medical, she was in the kitchen, she needed to keep busy. 

[punkishpessimism-blog]

dancingwiththepixies‌:

-

“I should come over sometime, I would love to see the garden. I don’t have a green thumb like you, you know? I do think that perhaps I could learn a bit from you, which would be fine by me.” She nods her head once, rapidly. “If you would like some company. Your garden always does look lovely.” 

“Hmmm...that’s a good idea. I’ll pop around his place sometime soon for a chat,” Arthur replied. “Do you know if he likes scones? Wouldn’t want to go around empty-handed.” Plus he really did just go about looking for any excuse he could to bake for other people.

“Yes, please do! It’s not quite as brilliant as it could be if I’d used my powers, but I think it’s beautiful nonetheless,” He responded. “I’m always more than happy to have your company.”

[incazzatto]

☔

@punkishpessimism

Even when in his human body, Lorenzo was capable of looking strongly like a pissed-off cat. And like a cat, he absolutely hating being wet, so when rain suddenly struck the island out of nowhere, he was not prepared. And suddenly, drenched. And nowhere near the cafe. 

“Goddammit,” he muttered, trying to pick up the pace and rush his way to the cafe; he couldn’t afford to be late right now.

Then suddenly he was not being pelted with heavy raindrops anymore. “What the f—” he was cut off, looking up at the sky, only to not even see the sky. An umbrella. He looked beside him, meeting the gaze of someone he did not know.

“—Thanks?” he said, wholly confused, his face pinched into a puzzled glare, still very irritated from being soaking wet.

[punkishpessimism-blog]

incazzatto‌:

-

Lorenzo took the umbrella, holding it above both their heads and kept walking down the path towards the coast. “Probably. There’s some kind of tea, anyways,” he said, clearly dismissive of the difference in tea, as he didn’t drink it at all himself. “You can drink whatever tea we have regardless.”

Arthur shrugged. He’d already handed off his umbrella to this person, he may as well see them through to wherever they were going. It took a bit of effort for him to keep up with the much taller man’s stride but Arthur refused to lag behind.

“How far away is it?”

[punkishpessimism-blog]

✮ One of our muses teaches the others about constellations

It was rare for him to ever travel to Orvunos, yet here he was. The sooner he could run off back home, the better. It wasn’t as if he actually enjoyed these trips and he could tell that his Father and half-siblings didn’t enjoy them either. But, today was his Father’s birthday and not even he could skip the occasion. The entire family had been invited and people were sure to be pouring in from every single island just to be there. For him not to make an appearance would be a grave insult. He’d likely be written out of the family; left alone, with no one but Agatha whose visits were sporadic at best. No matter what, he did not want to be alone.

Given that Arthur hadn’t been to Orvunos in quite a while, it was pretty much inevitable that he’d get lost. Looking around at the sky, Arthur tried desperately to find a constellation that could lead him home but they all looked so foreign to him. With a sigh, Arthur slid down to the ground, squatting above the slightly damp rock. For the first time in a long while, Arthur had absolutely no idea what to do now. He couldn’t read the skies, there was scarcely any vegetation around which ruled out asking the plants, and he couldn’t see anyone around- oh. 

Silently perched just next to a pile of rocks was what appeared to be a human child. She was clad in grey, making her blend into the landscape almost seamlessly, part of the reason why Arthur hadn’t been able to spot her earlier. He wasn’t sure how much help he’d be able to get from a kid, but this was better than nothing.“Hello, sorry to trouble you, but would you be able to point me in the direction of the nearest village?” Arthur called out, standing up and taking a couple of steps towards her.

[punkishpessimism-blog]

themightypebbles‌:

-

She shrugged at his question and shook her head, “Um, I mean, I don’t think much of anything really grows here. It’s mostly desert and hills, you know?” She thought about the root of his question (how to make tea instead of what grows here) for a moment longer.

“There are some plants in the caves… or ones my people grow in windowbox gardens that are high up where nobody can see. A lot of grasses and ferns grow near the cave entrance, and you can dry them in the sun to use for tea. Tastes better if you can trade for fruit, though.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Arthur smiled, the irony of her statement not lost on him. “That’s very true. I can certainly say that I got lost and needed help today.”

He deflated a little, he was craving hard and been hoping that somehow someone on this island would’ve cultivated unique strains. “Fair enough then,” Arthur replied. “It’s just so strange to me that none grow. My island is covered in plants of all shapes and colours.”

Her description of windowbox gardens too high to see both astounded and confused him. They sounded fascinating but it made him a little sad that no one could see how beautiful the plants were. “Why do they keep them so high up?” He asked. “I think I’d like to try them sometime anyway, for the experience.”

[punkishpessimism-blog]

songsinseaminor‌:

Roderich despised the notion that he was lonely or in need of company. That certainly wasn’t why he’d just agreed to let Arthur return in the future. No, he was just satisfying his own curiosity. There was nothing wrong in that. Besides, it would break up the monotony of his days, in a way that didn’t involve murder.

“…If you insist I suppose it would be alright if you brought me some of these… chips and lemon,” Roderich said after a moment, trying to act as if he could care less, though his eyes were bright with excitement at the prospect of trying a new food. “And…” He hesitated, thinking back to the gorgeous sound of the violin. “…I would love to play it. The violin. But I wouldn’t wish to damage it. I already worry about the harp…”

He made a mental note to check his pantry when he got home; he’d been on a bit of a potato binge recently. Wasn’t his fault they were so tasty. “I’ll pop round some time later then,” Arthur proposed. “When are you usually here?” He asked, gesturing to the cave they were in.

“We won’t do any plucking,” Arthur reassured him. “I’ll show you how to play with a bow. With the right bow hold you’re unlikely to do any damage. But even if you do, the strings are due to be replaced soon anyway.” 

[punkishpessimism-blog]

songsinseaminor‌:

“Hm, unfortunately, it does seem to be impossible. It would be too much of a risk.” He supposed he could try to curb his own instincts as best as possible, but he’d never tried that before, and didn’t trust that he could. “What I know about music though, I… don’t know. I didn’t really know there was much to know, beyond simply… creating music.” He frowned slightly. “I suppose it can be more complicated if you choose to make it so.”

His attention was brought from music to food very easily, and the curiosity was clear in his expression. “…You don’t have to, but I… admit I am curious about the foods you land dwellers eat.” Most of what he’d had had so far been delicious, after all.

Arthur sat silent for a couple of seconds. He didn’t want to offer too much, too much that would overwhelm him in the future. But he knew that he did nearly nothing in his daily life anyway, nothing but meaningless distractions to keep him from falling and wallowing in his own self-pity and despair. The more time he offered to more people, the less time he’d have to spend alone and Arthur supposed that that was a good thing, after all. “I'll teach you more about it,” He began. “...About music, that is. I can show you how to play the violin, I’m afraid I don’t know how to play harp particularly well but I’ll read up on it.”

“Oh, no, I insist!” Arthur nearly shouted in his enthusiasm. “I absolutely adore cooking, I would love to bring some to you. I don’t get enough of an opportunity to share it around as is.”

[punkishpessimism-blog]

✮ One of our muses teaches the others about constellations

It was rare for him to ever travel to Orvunos, yet here he was. The sooner he could run off back home, the better. It wasn’t as if he actually enjoyed these trips and he could tell that his Father and half-siblings didn’t enjoy them either. But, today was his Father’s birthday and not even he could skip the occasion. The entire family had been invited and people were sure to be pouring in from every single island just to be there. For him not to make an appearance would be a grave insult. He’d likely be written out of the family; left alone, with no one but Agatha whose visits were sporadic at best. No matter what, he did not want to be alone.

Given that Arthur hadn’t been to Orvunos in quite a while, it was pretty much inevitable that he’d get lost. Looking around at the sky, Arthur tried desperately to find a constellation that could lead him home but they all looked so foreign to him. With a sigh, Arthur slid down to the ground, squatting above the slightly damp rock. For the first time in a long while, Arthur had absolutely no idea what to do now. He couldn’t read the skies, there was scarcely any vegetation around which ruled out asking the plants, and he couldn’t see anyone around- oh. 

Silently perched just next to a pile of rocks was what appeared to be a human child. She was clad in grey, making her blend into the landscape almost seamlessly, part of the reason why Arthur hadn’t been able to spot her earlier. He wasn’t sure how much help he’d be able to get from a kid, but this was better than nothing.“Hello, sorry to trouble you, but would you be able to point me in the direction of the nearest village?” Arthur called out, standing up and taking a couple of steps towards her.

[punkishpessimism-blog]

themightypebbles‌:

-

She giggled once again at his memory of playing in the mud, “I like tea, too. It’s harder to make with the few herbs that grow here, but I know a good recipe. I don’t mind tea duty, honestly, there are lots of worse jobs.” She, apparently, had been punished with tea duty a few times herself.

“I don’t think many people have ever seen a tree as tall as the one I live in,” Arthur whistled. He was struck by a sudden feeling of homesickness, despite not being away from home for very long. Since returning to Treowa his relationship with his ‘home’ had become one that mostly just stank of dependency. “I can imagine. It’s harder to get away with mischief the older you become,” Arthur said.

“Well, whatever it is, I hope that you can find it soon,” Arthur replied. He still was struggling to come to terms with the fact that a kid as young as her hadn’t been home in an entire fortnight. When he was roughly her age, he probably thought he could be without his mum for a fortnight but would end up running back to her by the end of a single day. 

“It’s probably either out of the good of their hearts...” He trailed off. “...or because you are quite young. I wouldn’t hesitate to feed you and give you a place to stay, if we were anywhere near my house. I imagine most people wouldn’t.”

Childish antics like mud-playing were things that Arthur missed sorely about his youth. One couldn’t quite play in the mud the same way as an adult. “There certainly are, I suppose I didn’t quite know how well I had it back then...what sort of tea leaves grow here on Orvunous? I know plenty enough about the Treowan strains, but nothing about those of other islands.”

[punkishpessimism-blog]

dancingwiththepixies‌:

“I was in a basket?” She asks him in a tone that conveys a bit of shock, her lips moving so that she can chew her lower one between her teeth. The more she wracks her brain, she has a very faint, almost fleeting, memory of being raised into a tree via a basket, how.. Odd. She didn’t remember that very well, but it might have been Arthur’s place. It was far too hazy for her to do more than think of it being something that had been highly possible, or, really, once upon a dream. 

“Yes, by all means lead the way.” The pixie offers her arm to him, or hand, it can be hard to tell with Lara, she loved a good walk with someone that she found to be close to her, who was sweet, and perhaps a bit understanding. “I think it’ll be nice.” 

Arthur snickered a bit at Lara’s seeming disbelief. He supposed it did sound strange, to anyone who hadn’t been to his house before (or at least, hadn’t been to his house since forming proper memories). “Yes, yes. We use it to pull things...and babies, I suppose, into the house so that it’s easier to climb up the ladder.”

Locking arms with Lara, he began the short trek to his house. The trees here were a normal height, but as they walked closer to his house they began to grow taller and taller. “What have you been up to since I’ve left, anyhow? I imagine many things have happened since you were a baby.”

[punkishpessimism-blog]

songsinseaminor‌:

Roderich grumbled. “It’s not your fault, so don’t apologize… And yes, I don’t think I can create the spell with anything other than my voice. I suppose because my voice is a natural part of me, while the music made from the harp is separate. It’s quite fascinating…” Really, he was mostly just happy that he could make music and avoid having his day interrupted now, even if he wasn’t great at the harp yet.

He paused, glancing back at Arthur. “…What are chips? And lemon? I assume they’re some kind of land foods.”

“...That certainly is interesting. I do wish there was a way to listen to you sing without becoming ensnared, though,” Arthur mused. Although Roderich insisted that it was the spell that made his voice so beautiful, Arthur wasn’t completely convinced. “Something else I am curious about though,” He continued. “What exactly do you know of music? Other than what I’ve told you today, of course.”

And almost immediately Arthur’s expression lit up with nothing but pure enthusiasm. Sitting straighter and with an eager grin on his face, he explained,” Yes, yes, they’re types of land food! Oh and they’re absolutely delicious, let me tell you.” He paused for a second before offering, “I can make some for you, if you’d like to try? I love to cook.” 

[dancingwiththepixies-blog]

[knock knock] Happy birthday, Lara! [Arthur's standing at her door holding a plate of /very/ burnt looking scones]

Lara blinks down at the plate, but, she knew Arthur so well, that she couldn’t help but to smile fondly at him, he’d remembered, and that was what was important to her, the scones.. She’d deal with that later.

“Thank you, Arthur, you’re so sweet for that, do come in. I can put the kettle on, if you’d like. I’ve also got some brownies I was working on. Would you like to taste test?” If it wasn’t medical, she was in the kitchen, she needed to keep busy. 

[punkishpessimism-blog]

dancingwiththepixies‌:

-

“You’ve done nothing for it with your abilities?” Lara looked a bit shocked, thinking that Arthur would have cheated the natural process at least a bit, she knew that she would. “Man, you must be really determined.” Having walked to the table with the mugs, Lara took a seat. “It’s quite a bit slower, no?”

“Lightning? That sounds positively terrifying, I’m glad that you weren’t hurt,” Arthur mused, tossing aside his manners to lick the remaining crumbs of tiny sandwich that were on his fingers. “I’ve never met a lightning sprite before, I might need you to introduce me sometime. I’d love to ask him about his powers.”

He shook his head, feeling quite chuffed with himself. “No, not a single thing!” Arthur exclaimed proudly. “You are right though, it is a great deal slower. I had a moment when my orchids were wilting where I had to really hold myself back on using my powers, but they got through it in the end.”

[punkishpessimism-blog]

lost-in-lethe‌:

…okay, this guy was a fucking idiot. 

“Listen, pal,” Abel began, “I don’t appreciate you acting like none of that crazy shit happened. You were in the forest, somewhere in Treowa, and then you basically… became part of the ground like some weird…”

He gestured with his hands as though his would help to find an appropriate word, but none ever came. 

Arthur looked around, wondering if this was one of those ‘prank shows’ that Agatha had told him about, but he couldn’t spot any cameras other than the regular security type. 

“My dear sir, I assure you that I genuinely have no idea what you are saying about. You’re going to have to be more specific. I’m always in the Treowan forests, I live there.”