⧼⋄˟ canicula, vale ⧽

LOTTE: yikes.jpeg

LOTTE: dont let hq catch you saying stuff like that. I get we are an international accepting institute, but loyalties still have to lie somewhere, especially if you want a longstanding career in this. Juss saying

LOTTE: anyways we gotta go soooooooon!! I took a late night walk yesterday but got incredibly lost on the way back cuz idfk where anything is dkdgdisbdsk h e l p

ANNA: you know they can never be mad at this face

LOTTE: my fellow americans

LOTTE: have you thought about how bloody ironic it is that we spent the fourth of july in britain

LOTTE: (hello i am making a desperate attempt at communication please talk to me)

ANNA: hey, don't call me an american

ANNA: also, do you mean traitorous colony day, to which i say, it is fitting we spend it here

—OPEN.

the taste of iron was RIPE in his mouth, his mouth twisting into a grimace as he avoided smiling and putting his blood-stained teeth on display. Not that he got away with it. He’d wiped his face as clean as he could, but there were still cuts and bruises and his knuckles - red as a fire engine. fuck subtlety right up the ass, he says. he spit out the leftover blood in his mouth and pushed a fry between his lips. perhaps the safest place to be in posh, freaky little areas like these was leaning up against the side of a fast-food restaurant where each meal did not even qualify as ‘pocket change’ for the residents. what was worth less than pocket change? WHATEVER. 

his expression fell. he still managed to run into someone he recognised. dandy. so much for ‘safe’. “slumming it, I see,” he remarked, shovelling another fry in his mouth. “all these grand and wonderful artefacts of colonial history and accelerated capitalism to visit and you found yourself in the parking lot of a mcdonalds? we have these at HOME, y’know. i mean, s’probably one of the more honest landmarks of modern capitalism, but i still believe when in rome,” he paused to lick some salt off the pad of his thumb, his whole lower lip stinging when it came into contact. “or in this case, romneyland, you do as the romneys do. see the sights, ignore the homeless, pretend to enjoy a soggy meal of mushy peas and fried fish with zero seasoning and call it a day after having two ‘pints’ and knocking the fuck out.”

anna sat in the mcdonalds of trafalgar square, with three large boxes of fries in the tray in front of her. the bright yellow and red around her was enough to cause a headache, but she continued to sit, she needed to get away from the academy, from everyone, just for a minute, and actually sort out her thoughts. a shocker even for her. she remembers the last time she was actually her, sitting at this exact table... it was with nikolai. maybe that’s why she found herself here, head propped up by an arm and dazing off into the distance. she hated mcdonalds. she had been sitting her for two hours. eventually, she forced herself to gather the remainder of the fries and her body to get up and leave the restaurant, but she didn’t get far. she got as far as the parking lot and sat on the curb. she let out a small chuckle, or was it a cry, imagining what her mother would say if she saw her. she couldn’t tell.

her trance was broken when a disheveled ciro caught her peripheral. ‘ well, ’ anna spoke, voice calm, ‘ technically, i am home.’ she stuffed another fry into her mouth, listening to the rest of his ramble, before she turned to actually face him. ‘ why are you bleeding ? ’ she could smell the blood the moment he walked into the mcdonalds. her face serious, as she studied the boy’s eyes, waiting to catch him in what ever lie he would conjure up.