.oo1

[puffinparadise]

[Action; 306 Miller Street]

[Iceland wakes up in an unfamiliar bed in a somewhat familiar looking house. He's definitely not home. If he was, Mr. Puffin would've woken him up by then. He looks around the room curiously until his eyes fall upon a family picture on the wall. After studying it a bit closer, the realization hit him like a cinder block. A really heavy cinder block.]

Oh no...

[He was here before. Probably not the same exact house, but definitely the same town. Except...it had been at least 37 years since he had to even deal with this place. In a way, he was kind of happy to be back in this town. At home, he had to deal with a financial crisis. So in a way, he was glad for the break.

With a sigh, he got dressed and even tried making a makeshift bow from ripping apart a dreadful looking shirt. He walked over to the kitchen to go make breakfast.

So everyone at 306, there is one line-faced nation now cooking some bacon. All's good right? Except, upon closer inspection, the bacon looks like it's pretty burnt. Ice isn't even noticing as he appears to be caught in his thoughts. You probably might want to stop him before he sets the house on fire.]

[Phone]

Does anyone know if they sell black licorice here? Or does anyone have some they can spare?

[A pause. Was there something he forgot? Oh yeah.]

I'm back. Did I miss much?

Comments

[puffinparadise]

Very. [Can't you hear the excitement?]

Sadly, I don't know which one's worse. Then again, at least I'm not sneezing all over everything here.

[encored]

[he laughs a little bit. the return of all you snarky linefaced nations is a big blast of nostalgia okay, and not even in the bad way!]

Yes, it would be horrid if you were sniffling and sneezing on everything in addition to dying miserably.

[puffinparadise]

[... Okay, you get a tiny smile. But since you can't actually see it, it probably wouldn't matter that much.]

Of course. Then I'll wake up the next day and keep wasting tissues.

[encored]

[gosh loser. he'll just have to imagine it and hold this rare moment close in his memories....]

We could fashion your burial shroud out of the tissues you use. Not exactly the most fetching thing available, but it would certainly be recycle-friendly.

[puffinparadise]

[Hold it close indeed as this is probably not going to last too much longer.]

Then we can decorate it with cough medicine bottles. We wouldn't have to waste our time picking flowers and it's recyclable.

[encored]

What a lovely idea. I think I'd rather stay traditional and go with flowers, though. They're biodegradable, after all. [way too cheery for this kind of conversation topic....]

[puffinparadise]

What kind of flowers?

[Why are they even talking about this sob]

[encored]

[because they're horrible and this horrible conversation suits them]

Lilies are traditional, but I prefer roses, personally. Did you have anything in mind?

[puffinparadise]

Mountain avens are my favorite. If you can't find them, then I don't mind what you use.

[encored]

I don't believe I've seen anything like that here yet, so you might have to settle for roses.

[a beat] What house have they put you in this time?

[puffinparadise]

Hold on.

[The shuffling and rustling of paper can be heard in the background for ten seconds.]

306 Miller Street.

[encored]

Ah, that isn't close at all. [he's a little upset that things aren't going exactly back to normal, even if that would be totally nonsensical and most of the people who left are still missing.]