Northern King ♔

send “✉️” to read a handwritten letter my muse sent to yours.

                                                                                    20th of March, 1848 Dear Rainer,

On this incredibly dreary and misty morning I cannot help but dwell on the upcoming tides.  I am aware that this sort of transaction is not of the most appropriate of exchanges, however, certain passions within me have overtaken my sensibilities and I am afraid that I must expel some of my devilish energy lest it take hold of me and stain my judgement at a time when I must be of sound mind and reason.

Both you and I as companions but also cohorts of nationhood have been predominantly cordial in the past and while I appreciate the collection of memories I have archived with great fondness I have found myself becoming regretfully bitter at such a history.  At this time I cannot separate our duties of statehood from the personal acquaintance we share and after your declaration of assisting the German states it grieves me to say that I believe our association must come to an end.

I request that you do not write to me in the future.  I wish you good health for the remainder of the month and for whenever you should so depart from this conflict.

Sincerely,

What was I supposed to do? You did not offer me a spoon nor any lamb to spread it on. I come here with a gift and you spit on me.

Figuratively. [he sets the jar on the table Decisively!] 

Rude ass. 

‘Do I look like I keep spoons on hand?  I am not the Spoon Man!  You should have asked and I would have gotten one.’  Magnus eyes the mint jam.  ‘But I suppose if I just scrape around the edges that you touched ... hm.  Ja.  I’ll accept it.  Let’s eat!’

Why would you be suspicious? I am not a person that inspires suspicion. 

[he unscrews the lid and dips his fingers right into the jam and eats it off his fingers because he’s fucking disgusting] 

Tasty. [he says it sarcastically, but obviously it is good] Are you pleased?

[there's a long moment of silence where rainer very clearly thinks about strangling him to death violently] If I wanted to kill or hurt you very badly there are far easier ways to do this than fucking up a perfectly good mint jam.

‘Who said anything about killing?  I just meant some harmless TLC, or maybe some hallucinogens.  Good lord.  Now I’m even more suspicious.’

‘Are the consequences that I won’t have to eat your random, probably-laced mint jam?  Because if that’s the case, I’ll pass.  Thanks.’

“No one is safe from responsibility.”

‘It can’t reach me under this super thick, comfortable blanket if I wrap it around myself tightly enough ...  Begone, responsibility, foul creature!’

“That sounds fake, but okay.”

‘It’s not fake!’

“And just generally great to be around. The life of the party.”

---

‘Attractive, innocent peas in a pod at a party ... Nå, we should call ourselves party food!  It’s apt: fun, delicious treats that people wish they could eat all the time.’

“Trust me. I’ve tried.” Flashback to how often he tried hiding out in his apartment in 2016. “… It didn’t work out.”

‘That’s unfortunate for you and I’m sorry to hear it.  I’m sure it’ll work out for me, though.  Most things do.’

“Just two innocent peas in an innocent pod.”

---

“I’m just a sweet girl, I’ve never even been in a fight.”

‘Oh, jo, I take back what I said.  Neither have I.’

“It’s simply mathematics. It w-was statistically impossible for you to have —any face card!”