#paralianprince

[cryingyetcourageous]

@paralianprince

Meeting adjourned. Feel free to finish the refreshments in the break room. One of the downsides of being so short was that Raivis was oftentimes the last to leave the conference hall, opting to sit back and wait rather than risk being crushed by those larger nations. By the time he left the room, the last bottles of water and mini sandwiches would be gone, not that he was missing out on much. Minutes passed - a longer wait than needed, admittedly - and the only people left were those who liked taking time to discuss their notes or iron out details for future meetings. Raivis slipped passed and out the door, stretching as he walked, craning himself to try and spot either of his fellow Baltics among the nations loitering in the lobby, maybe even take his chances with talking to Berwald or Francois. Someone friendly- His eyes fell on a door to a smaller meeting room, one that he knew was being used by the micronations. Every meeting, they booked a room. Every meeting, someone made a joke that Raivis should be at the "kid's table." Every meeting, Raivis forced a wobbly smile and a laugh that left him ever so slightly more deflated. He walked towards the bathrooms, veering off course, checking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. God, if someone saw him actually go in, what would they say? He shouldn't even care what they would say, but words had power, and if he lost what minuscule crumbs of respect people begrudgingly offered him now... Leaning against a wall as casually as he could, he waited until only a few individuals were left, and they were much too busy chatting among themselves and parsing out dinner plans to spare Raivis any thought. Coast clear enough, he cracked open the door and slipped inside.

[tayto-enjoyer]

@paralianprince

Some part of Connor expected the wait to last an eternity. It sure felt like an eternity, what with his stomach twisting into knots and his racing heart. Were these clammy hands really the same ones which had killed vikings so long ago? Surely not. If anything, the Irishman felt as if he were the one being killed. No, now all his hands were good for was reaching for the flask of Jameson in his jacket – and clutching his collar as his trembling fingers fumbled over an empty pocket. No drinking in front of the wean, he’d decided with the utmost determination, it wouldn’t set a good example.

But oh, how quickly his resolve vanished when faced with the terrifying prospect of an end to his excruciating waiting.

His already-pale complexion had drained of any remnants of color by the time passengers entered the baggage claim. Connor stood alone, rigid but quivering, a ghost-like figure among the bustling crowd of the terminal. Emerald eyes scanned the stream of people in search of his youngest kin, straining to catch a glimpse of the child which had been kept from him for far, far too long – until he finally appeared, and became all Connor could look at.

Good lord, he looked so much like Arthur. . .

One foot extended into a step, and Connor’s knees managed to hold beneath him. Though they were certainly tested by the man whose path he’d inadvertently stepped into, and who not-so-gently bumped into his side. The redhead was so tightly-wound that he nearly sprung a foot into the air – as if he were knocked clear back into his step dancing days – before his lungs forced a startled chuckle from his throat. “Boys a dear,” he muttered breathlessly, “S-Sorry aboet that.”

With a strained smile and a nod of his head, he turned on his heel and approached Peter with enough adrenaline in his system to kill a bull. How someone so young and small could frighten Connor more than invading Normans, he had no clue, but it was high time to confront his anxiety. He cleared his throat as he finally reached the teen, but couldn’t quite rid himself of a stutter.

“W-Welcome tae Belfast, lad. I hope yer flight wasn’t t-too bad?”

[islandiis]

OKAAAAY IM FINALLY CAVING IN ♦

Send me a "♦" for the first word my muse thinks of when your muse is mentioned

"I hope it isn't presumptuous of me, but — frændsemi, "kinship". It's just... I don't know. I think, in some ways, we have similarities in circumstance, and... That's kind of comforting, isn't it? Knowing that you're not completely alone in your experiences, even when they are distinct from most people you know. Yeah. I'd like to get to know Peter better, for many reasons, including this."

[kaltiisms]

‘Peter? Oh—look at you!’ There aren’t many people Fannar would touch so easily, but there he was, opening broad arms for a hug, and pulling Peter in before the boy could step back. Surely, the boy hadn’t grown up so much since Fay had been gone, and hugs were essential for old friends.

‘Have you grown? You look taller. Feel it too!’ The Icelander smiled, setting both hands on Peter’s shoulders, giving the boy a proper look over. He still had that same, rounded, sunspot face. It eased Fannar a little to know not everything changed while he was away. ‘… Maybe you just need a haircut.’

@paralianprince started following you

[bates--boy]

         “...I miss my babies...”

[krypteretnetwork]

masterchef micronation headcanons

because I’m still procrastinating on things

(older!)Peter: masterchef at depression meals. lots of comfort food from him with simple presentation.

Peter: Actually Raises Hell. how he made it past the trial in the first place is beyond everyone. yet, I still see him being very innovative with flavour combinations. shit Gordon Ramsay would say “IT’S NOT SUPPOSED TO WORK” whilst in total amazement at the fact it’s something that works. sloppy presentation, though.

Adrien: if she’s not a judge, then she would most definitely make it to the finale. absolutely nails flavours. gorgeous presentation, but there’s someone out there who gets presentation out there just a bit better than hers.

Heike: the same as Adrien tbfh. has the absolute best presentation of them all because of his ~wild artistic talent~. great flavours, but Adrien easily wins in terms of flavour.

Viktor: eliminated in the first elimination test. how the hell he even made it there is beyond everyone. thinks that you need to WWE slam an egg onto the counter to crack it. flavour? probably straight char. It’s All Burnt. presentation? ????????

Hilda: can actually probably cook pretty damn well, it’s baking that she shouldn’t be trusted with. sloppy presentation, flavour is hit or miss. even then she.... couldnt Care Less. food is food

[brassandblue]

paralianprince replied to your post “freddo prices”

YYYAAAAAA GOTTIM

Peter you’re grounded.

[aphalleos]

for @paralianprince : firstinteraction {

maybe ✌ or ✈ or ✪ ? those ones all seem like they could be interesting! whichever one calls to u the most

[ ✌ ] my muse reaches out to yours after months of no communication.

[ ✈ ] my muse asks yours to accompany them on a trip/mission/etc.

[ ✪ ] our muses are stuck in an elevator together.

}

/* * * * *

I’m going to go with the third one! :D

* * * * */

Well, this was great. Hilda had just been (very reluctantly) on her way to the meeting; her very first meeting at that. She’d skipped out on a few since establishing her little micronation due to the severe anxiety that came with having isolated her networks so much, which only led to even worse anxiety when Matthias had pretty much dragged her out of her place to attend one. And, on top of the anxiety, she was stuck on an elevator. With a child no less, and one who she’d heard about from the Nordics-- she knew he was a micronation; technically the ‘leader’ of the little group of micronations there were. While she knew interacting with him was inevitable, she wanted to avoid it for as long as she possibly could.

She started sweating from anxiety as she tried to fidget with a few pieces, hoping to figure out what was wrong. However, unfortunately for her, with the rush and general anxiety about attending a meeting, she didn’t have the time to even think of bringing any small, but handy tools. Yet, one thing she had yet to even try was just pressing the help button like a normal person.

For a few brief moments, she just barely glanced over to the boy, then back to that damn button-- so on so forth. Then, she finally, very reluctantly pressed the help button, but found herself freezing up completely as there was a response rather quickly. “I... we’re... kind of stuck...” she said, her voice trailing off as she actually looked over to the boy, her eyes screaming for help but her expression remaining stoic as ever. She figured she’d just have to accept her fate now; it would be a bit before the issue was fixed after all.