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retvenkos · 3 years

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rolled up messages | n.e.

Blades of Light and Shadow - Nia Ellarious x platonic!MC!Reader, slight angst, fluff requested by @brokenandheadoverheels

tw: mentions of death, seasickness, grief

word count: 1.7 (okay, but in my defense, this is nia, we’re talking about.)

song: message in a bottle - the police | 🔍

Summary: The sea worked in mysterious ways. This time, it brought you someone to grieve with.

When you had been little more than a child, your work knee-deep in the earth and all your life in your small and calloused hands, one of your favorite fantasies to spin was being a pirate. Kade had heard plenty of stories of life on a schooner, and seeing as you had never seen the sea, it was the most beautiful daydream your mind could concoct and escape into. It was a world beyond anything you had ever known. It was a romantic and daring vision - full of sea spray and gulls, the bright blue sky and the enchanting waves.

Life aboard The Wraith was anything but the stories Kade had once told. The hypnotic sway of the ship kept your mind in a constant and muted haze, and the endless skies muddled your sense of direction. Mostly, the days were dull, but on occasion, something more sinister lay within. Restlessness seeped into your veins - slowly, then all at once.

Only a handful of times in your life were you equally as rattled as you found yourself, now, and in each life-changing circumstance, what grounded you was working - the steady drudgery of tilling the earth, the resolute swing of a hammer, the clang of iron against an anvil. But here, there was no task to complete. There was just the open ocean and the ceaseless sky and the insanity that slipped in slowly. It was an itch, and soon, it would grow into a scream.

Most days, you sat around, waiting for things to happen. On occasion, the Captain - the fearless and headstrong Imtura - threw some meager task your way. You almost hated the way you jumped up, eager for something to do. The last thing you wanted to be was a dog begging for someone else's scraps.

The sea was lawless in its corruption; you would be damned if you let it turn you.

If Kade were here, he would have known what you were thinking before you were able to put it into words yourself. He was always perceptive like that - annoying, too, because he knew it. He would have teased you about your restlessness, and before you could register the stir-crazy feeling in your belly, he would have told you stories about how the sea could charm you into doing her bidding. She'd cut you down slowly and carefully until your will was broken and your mind was jelly. Then, she'd use the rhythmic sway of the boat to hypnotize you into becoming her servant.

Was Kade somewhere out there, now, being drawn and quartered, broken down by the shadow and being built up again, against his will? Was he sitting in the cargo hold of a ship or a dusty cell beneath the ground, insanity visiting him in the night? Was Death a new companion of his, gnawing at his skin until he was foaming at the mouth? If you found him, would the shadows cling to him the way ghosts once did? If you discovered him alive, would Kade beg you to end his suffering?

And would it be a mercy to give him what he desired?

The sea was churning your stomach, the acid within burning up your throat. The world - a flat blue that couldn't divide sky from ocean - spun. You needed a quiet place to sit down. You needed a moment alone to grieve.

You stumbled your way below deck, gasping for air. The ship rocked to one side, and you staggered to a wall, throwing one hand out in front of you, catching your breath. You couldn't think about Kade, but you couldn't damn well forget about him either. Not when—

"(Y/n)? Are you alright?"

You snapped your head to attention and found Nia blinking back at you, her delicate features sculpted into light concern - mouth turned, eyebrows knitted. On her lap, she held a leatherbound journal, one hand holding a pencil, paused in its scratching.

You closed your eyes, forcing yourself not to grimace.

"Yeah, I'm alright," you breathed. You could hear the irritation in your voice. You hadn't meant to direct that at her. "What are you writing?" you asked, trying to smooth things over - steering the conversation to a place you could handle. "Keeping a harrowing account of our journey?"

Nia stiffened like a child caught when acting out. If you weren't so seasick, perhaps you would have waved your question away, content to sit in baited silence. But you needed a voice in the din - something to take off the edge - and you knew Nia would comply.

"Not exactly," Nia said slowly, worrying her bottom lip. "I'm writing a letter."

"To who?"

"Oh, umm... you'll probably laugh, but Scholar Vash." Her words hit you like a bullet. In all of the chaos surrounding your quest, you had forgotten about the loss of Scholar Vash. When had your company ever allowed Nia to truly grieve? You had spared her a few moments after the shadow took him, but you hadn't given her such mercy since. You should have never been so thoughtless in your mission. Nia let out a breathy sort of scoff and shook her head. You wondered if she was blinking back tears. If the light were better, would you have recognized it when you first came down?

"I just want him to know that I'm well and that I'm staying true to my faith," Nia played with the ends of her long, red hair. The shimmer of her dress caught in the orange lantern light. She looked like an angel in mourning. "I also thought that I'd write down the questions I still want to ask him. Maybe somehow - through the Light - he'll be able to send some kind of answer."

"Kade and I used to do that with our parents," you commiserated, your voice choked. "Write them letters, I mean. People in Riverbend thought it was a way for orphans to appease the spirits of their parents. Connection. We used to send our notes in glass bottles down the river."

Nia looked at you and gently smiled. Her expression turned wistful, something that made you draw nearer, sitting on a crate next to her. You were closer, now, and you could see the tears welling in her wide, brown eyes.

"We used to do something similar in Whitetower. On days when we were left in the archives for studying, we'd all gather around and write notes to would-be kin. Of course, we didn't have a river, so our letters were tied to the feet of birds. Little rolled up messages saying 'I'm here. Don't forget me.'"

For a moment, Nia's voice drifted away. The ship continued to rock, but in that time, it felt like a mother rocking a cradle, soothing the weeping child within.

"Most of us are adopted by the Temple of Light when we're infants," she sniffed. "I guess it's universal to want to know where family might be."

Nia touched the journal before her, where loopy cursive graced the page and spelled out the name of Scholar Vash. You hadn't known the High Preist long, and while Nia spoke of him often, she was brief with her words. It was as though, on occasion, she forgot all that transpired, and she talked about him when she thought of it, only to have the abrupt realization that he passed, and his final moments were spent doused in shadow. Vash Vallerin had been more than just a teacher - the Scholar had become that of a father, the only one Nia had known. You could see the way the loss gripped her. It reminded you too much of the way you felt about the kindly farmer who took you in, of the little life you had created in the heart of Riverbend that was slowly fracturing - falling apart.

You grabbed Nia's hand - gently, at first, but squeezing it tightly when you got a firm hold. "You are here, Nia, and Scholar Vash may be somewhere out there, but I've known too many ghosts, and I know he won't forget you."

A tear fell down Nia's cheek, and you could feel your own doing the same. How comforting this was - feeling how deeply your grief ran but sharing in its bittersweet bite.

"It's only the living that struggle with forgetting those that we love. The dead have memories that outlive eternity and infinity - at least they have that on us."

Nia laughed - a mix of a chuckle and a sob.

"Scholar Vash will get your letter - no matter how you choose to send it - and I believe he will find a way to answer."

Nia squeezed your hand before letting go and dried her tears. She looked down at her journal to find a tear had wet the page, and she laughed. "I think Scholar Vash would have liked it better that way."

You smiled and wiped your own tears with the palms of your hands. You waited as Nia finished her letter, standing up and digging through the cargo in the hold to give her privacy. You found a bottle of good spirits and took a long drink. You debated on whether or not to offer the priestess some, but you decided it would be better to spare her the headache of refusing and made a mental note to give some to Mal later.

Nia finished writing her letter and tore the page out of her journal carefully. "I think a bottle would be the best way to go," Nia said, rolling up the parchment and turning to you.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Nina affirmed. "It'll wash up on shore somewhere and—"

"And maybe the world will know we were here?"

Nina smiled. "And maybe they'll know we were here."

-- taglist: @fives-cup-of-coffee, @musicallisto, @missameliep, @brokenandheadoverheels // message me if you want to be added!

#choices #playchoices #choices: stories you play #blades of light and shadow #bolas #nia ellarious #nia ellarious x mc #nia ellarious x reader #reader insert #mc!reader #nia ellarious imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #slight angst #fluff #2.9k celebration

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hythlodaes · 5 years

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“This is what happy feels like.” for Atton/Meetra

thank you taylor! :’)

–

“You know, for someone who never stops talking, you can be surprisingly antisocial.”

Meetra’s words punch through the muddied sound of Dxun’s jungle, alive all around them but still distant. The only light between them is blurry, and it drifts in from the fires that dot the way back to camp. Whatever moonlight passes through the shifting clouds above them is enough to give her the sense of Atton–the lines of his jacket, his dirty hair falling over his brow, and the jut of his chin.

Maybe she’d recognize these things even in the dark.

It’s what was on her mind when she was cramped inside the basilisk droid–not Kavar, not the actual, literal war on Onderon, but Atton. Canderous’ eyes were sharp on her, Kreia’s moody silence heavy in the air, and all she could think was, I hope he’s safe.

So yes, even in the dark, even away from the crowd of Mandalorians and her crew celebrating their victories, he’s all she wants to see.

“I’m hiding,” he explains, and as Meetra draws closer, she can see the way his lips pull into a lazy grin. In his hand is a mostly-smoked cigarette that he drops to the ground. “Did I ever tell you it’s a bad idea to cheat Mandalorians? I never learn my lesson. I mean, I know we won and all today, but I’m not sure I could take them in a fight.”

She knows it’s a lie the second it comes out of his mouth. Atton might call himself a lousy cheat, but she’s yet to see it happen, and even so, he always talks his way out of trouble. Still, she shakes her head and laughs. “My hero.”

“You know it, babe,” he says with a lazy smile. Meetra steps closer to him, into his space, and he smells like smoke in contrast to the warm, musky scent of Dxun–something too familiar, something haunted, but next to Atton it isn’t as heavy on her mind.

Her hands find his chest, and his skin is warm under his thin shirt. She angles her head back, meets his gaze in the dark, and asks, “What are you really hiding from?"

He shakes his head. "I was just thinking–which I am capable of, despite popular belief."

"Oh really?” she asks with a grin, watching him roll his eyes. His hands settle on her lower back. “What were you thinking about?"

There’s a vulnerability in both the question and the answer. Atton takes a breath, breaks eye contact. He looks up at first, and she watches the line of his jaw and the shadow that curves down his neck before he meets her gaze again, saying, “I had a few realizations in that temple today, and…I don’t know. I think it helped me let go of some of the things I’ve been holding onto.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He looks down, shifting his weight before he continues, “I think there’s even the potential to be happy here.”

That makes Meetra pause, and the edges of her lips curl into a strange kind of smile. It’s an odd thought, isn’t it? Maybe she’s been hurting for too long that she has to stop and consider what that would even mean.

It’s like–she stands here in his arms, and months and months ago he was just a stranger to her. Her thoughts trace over memories of the two of them in the cockpit, laughing over whatever dumb thing one of them’s said (anything–it’s always anything to fill the quiet), or how they play pazaak when neither of them can sleep. There’s the way he held her after they found Vash’s body, when she needed him but she didn’t know how to ask.

He found her and she finds him, and she stands here with him now. They know each other’s pasts and still trust each other to keep them safe. To be kept safe. It begs the question–

“Is this what happy feels like?”

He lifts a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, gentle, and it lingers at the edge of her jaw. Calloused fingers draw down to her chin, which he angles up before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. When he pulls away, he stays close enough that she can feel his breath when he says, “Maybe.”

Warmth pools in her stomach as she pulls him in again; kisses him again and again. Her lips part against his and it’s like she’s still asking the question, but his body responds and the answer is the same: maybe, maybe, maybe.

#i tweaked it a lil bit #sorry i had to fit some angst in there #but thank you!! i love them sm #atton x exile #fic #writing prompts #attonrad

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tariah23 · 6 years

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Ahhh I miss Trigun so much... I remember back in 5th grade, this girl that I tried to be friends with asked me to draw Vash for her and I stayed up alllll NIGHT drawing it for her just to please her and for her to see me as a friend and the next day, I gave it to her and I still remember how she looked at it like... she looked at it like it was the ugliest thing she’d ever seen ajajaja. I felt so bad and all she said was “uh.... thanks, you messed up a lot” lmfao. She was always in my class every year and I’d still try to be her friend but she’d talk to me as if I was an idiot and oh well. The last time I saw her as was a few years ago and we were at the Walgreens around my place and I saw her but didn’t say anything and I know that she saw me because she kept looking but if she would’ve said something to me, I probably would’ve pretended like I didn’t remember her lol. I’ve been awkward all my life and people make me sad.

#rambling #what a waste of drawing time too like my hands were hurting too and i was so proud of it haha

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flyingsassysaddles · 6 years

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The Holy Order’s Redemption

Notes: And fuck I did it again, sorry I did this last minute ;;v;; exams are a bitch. This is my @aphsecretsanta rare pair exchange for @aph--china! They requested Prussia/Switzerland with a theme of Redemption for one of their themes, so here it is! The demon is, of course, Prussia, and the angel is Switzerland if you don’t know his name! Lilli is Lichtenstein, and Ludwig/Germany is referred to as Prussia’s brother. And...I think that’s it! This was really fun to make, and I’m glad I could write something for this pairing!

Summary: Vash, as is his duty as the guard of the Holy Prisons, is walking the infamous soul eater demon down the halls to be judged by the Holy Supreme Court of Heaven. Being close to his sister’s killer is starting to draw out the worst in the former guardian angel, and the albino demon quickly tests his limits.

Happy Reading!

____

Vash gripped his sword tighter, tensing his wings against his back and snarling at the demon before him. “I strongly advise you to be silent, you fallen mother-”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” the albino rolled his eyes, red slits dancing with fire and the smell of burnt flesh following the prisoner as he was rushed along the passageway to the Supreme Heavenly Court. “You don’t like me, you don’t have to be so rude about it, yeesh.”

“Yes, I don’t ‘like’ you,” the guardian spat, sword a hair from being drawn and slaughtering the chained prisoner, “You killed my Protected. You should be lucky I don’t kill you where you stand, demon bastard.” With a flick of his fingers, the demon was thrown further down the hallway by the drones in front of him, his blond hair shining the stale light from the ceiling onto the mindless bodies that waited for their next order. Although a dark voice whispered to kill the murderer in front of him, his Inner Light, the damned voice in his head that kept his behavior in strict ordinance with Holy Order, lit a path that prevented him from snapping his neck in the most blessed halls of Heaven. Afterall, killing your enemies was demon behavior.

The insolent bastard, with his jagged, lone pair of wings and his ivory claws, started to tap out a tune as the drones become more rough with him, reacting to the slow-burning aura emanating from his halo and perceiving that as orders to shove and trip the unnatural entity. Vash didn’t stop them.

“You know where we’re going?” the demon asked, bleached tail swishing through the air, somehow escaping the normal mutilation that happened in confession rooms. Shackles rattling on his wrists, he leaned closer to the former guardian angel and said, “Am I going to the execution area already?”

“I suppose it’s fitting no one told you,” Vash snorted, dagger dangling from his wrist and green eyes glistening with the opportunity to tear the demon apart, if just with words. There were times before when his Inner Light would have clamped his jaw shut and order him to remain neutral like all guardians, but now that his title had been stripped away and he had been demoted to a simple prison guard, it was mostly silent to the loathing that had churned in him. With a mute conscience, he said, “You’re going to the Supreme Heavenly Court, where they’ll hold a mock trial and sentence you to any number of grisly deaths for eating blessed souls. Perhaps a gladiator battle,” Vash proposed, watching the pale demon’s face for any signs of guilt or horror, “Maybe you’ll finally be able to eat a demon’s lifesource. I hear they kept Ivan the Grim alive for the express purpose of watching him tear demons apart. If you get lucky, he might go easy on you.”

“No way that’s real,” the demon laughed, but there was something fearful in his eyes, Vash noted with a malicious glee. “Angels don’t just, just KILL people. You’re supposed to be the goodie two shoes of the Realms, like all peaceful and shit.”

“Not to demons like you,” Vash said, and prodded him further to his doom.

“You’re trying to make me scared so I’ll confess to the court,” he proclaimed, blood eyes dashing to the side and hands fidgeting slightly with his white prisoner’s garb.

“Interesting theory. Too bad they already have all the evidence they need, snow bastard.”

“First of all, I’m not a snow demon, and second, how the fuck do you know that?”

“Because I have ears and don’t live under a rock in the most gossiping city this side of Saint Paul. Also,” the blond hissed, pressing his sword into the demons back until it drew blood, smiling grimly at the yelp the demon gave, “I have a special interest in your case.”

The demon whipped around, for the first sign showing flares of aggression and spitting, “What the fuck is your fucking-”

“Language,” Vash warned, and the drones besides him crushed the albino’s shoulders, eyes glowing in sync with the Holy Orbs on the walls. “No offensive language is permitted in the Heavenly Court Building.” The Inner Light moved his mouth to speak, and ever the faithful follower, he added, “Any unholy acts, orders, or speech that is not sanctified by the Court is prohibited. Please remain orderly and reasonable in all manners while in the presence of the Holy-”

“Oh save it, Vash.” A flick of satisfaction appeared on the pale demon’s face as Vash tried to keep his own face blank at the revelation that he knew his name, and knowing that he was failing when the demon laughed. “Yeah, I know your name, Vash.”

The second utterance shook his Inner Light as the name commanded him like the judges or the higher angels. Such power came with names, something whispered, we must get rid of him. Of course, we can’t get rid of him, his Inner Light bounced back. He’s a prisoner, he must face justice. But after. No, never. Yes, let us consume the demon who ate our Protected, strike him down in vengeance!

He gritted his teeth, shoving the seething hostility below the Inner Light and motioning the drones ahead of him as he collected himself.

“Don’t you want to know why I know your name?” the demon teased, now back in a position of power with guard’s name in his grasps. “It has to do with your beloved Protected-”

“Don’t you dare speak of Lili!” Vash screamed, sword fully drawn and aimed at the grinning demon's throat, and even though the guardian had the prisoner pressed against the wall, the drones fell back. “It’s your fault she’s dead,” the dark said, green eyes swirling with red, his six wings stretched out their full length, “And I should skin you alive for taking away my purpose!”

“Wow,” the demon blinked. “She wasn’t kidding when she said you were violent.” He caught his head to the side, acting in control despite being centimeters from death. “She mentioned you when she cried out for help, you know. She said, ‘Vash, why won’t you save me!’” He mimicked her high voice, eyes filled with mockery and abandon, wanting one last strike at this robotic creature before his trial, before his wings were mutilated and his body dent out to be devoured by Heaven’s pet monsters. The rumors were true, and like fuck he was going to step foot in that courtroom.

“You bastard!” Vash howled, a moment away from slicing the waiting demon’s throat before the Holy Orbs erupted in light and shoved him backward, forcing him away from the startled prisoner and onto the floor.

“No offensive language is permitted in the Heavenly Court Building,” the drones repeated, staring at the angel with empty eyes and spread their arms in front of the demon as if to protect him. “This is a prisoner. He is not to be harmed until his trial. This is a prisoner. He is not to be harmed before his trial. This is a-”

“I understand, and I apologize for my behavior in the holy building,” his Inner Light responded, shoving the corrupted energy back to its abode and bowing to the holy minds ingrained into the walls. Gritting his teeth, he said robotically, “I accept my punishment, and I accept the Holy One’s will forevermore.”

The drones nodded, their human-like bodies glowing gold, and picked the demon up again. They were back to being the mindless beings they were before, waiting for orders as he gave a sigh of relief. Back in control, really in control, that dark spirit sealed away from his mind, his Inner Light said, “Demon, proceed. Please refrain from that conduct again. Attempted suicide is not sanctioned by the Holy Order, and you must wait for your trial before receiving an agreed death.”

“Oh Lucifer,” the demon breathed, eyes wide and taking a step back to the wall, “They really control you. Every single one of you. I saw you, I really saw you, I swear!” The demon narrowed his eyes at the blank angel in front of him. “But you’re just a robot, huh. The only thing you can really think about is Lilli.”

He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth and feeling the hideous emotions rise over him again, begging him to defend his Protected, his sweet baby sister he guarded with his life, to murder her killer and forget about whatever redemption or punishment the trial might give him. ‘What about Lili?’ it whispered.

“Refrain from attempting to provoke the guards,” Vash spoke, Inner Light glowing in sync to the lights on the walls, clenching his heart and burying those traitorous thoughts under the sheet of the Holy Order. “Lilli Zwingli is a Former-Protected, and she has the utmost respect and caused great sorrow to the Holy Order of Angels,” Vash stated, eyes as blank as the drones that now pushed the demons further down the hall.

The demon seemed to be deeply shook, tail limp and eyes locked on the humming walls and the presence of the Holy Order all around the group. Vash glossed over this, following his light guided path, stopping in front of the doors of the Supreme Courtroom. With a push on the door and a respectful step back, he looked his sister’s murderer in his red slitted eyes, and smiled, letting an inkling of satisfaction come from the heartless being’s death.

With one glance into the tense, cloudy room for the worst offenders, the soul eaters, the cannibals, the traitors, the demons, he gave one last response to the brother of the High Judge, the infamous Gilbert Beilschmidt, and not even his Inner Light could drown out hate dripped, sanctioned words.

“May you face your trial with courage,” he repeated for the millionth time, the final goodbye to the lost prisoners of the Angels, “and may you find redemption.”

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imaginehetalia · 7 years

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An unexpected visit (Liechtenstein, Switzerland, Romano, Vietnam, Cuba)

(Another anonymous request, I hope it lives up to your expectations! ) -Admin Hungary

Liechtenstein

She was a usually nice girl but due to her extended time spent with her big brother, Lili had learned to hold her own in a fight. As soon as she heard the stairs creak, she reached towards the gun lying on her nightstand. With steps kept light, she tracked the noise down to her kitchen where sure enough a person unknown to her rummaged through the fridge. Drawing the gun out from behind her back, Lili ordered them to turn around and show that they were unarmed. The grin that adorned their face quickly faded as they saw the gun aimed at them. Walking them backwards into a corner with the weapon still aimed at them, she picked up the phone to call the police. The stranger, who seemed to believe that they were simply visiting a relative, tried to reason with her, "Why? Why are you aiming at me with a gun? Dom´t tell me you are still mad about the thing I did back then" As soon as the police arrived and took the person with them, the betrayed look on the stranger´s face was heartbreaking. After this incident she took extra precautions to avoid similar situations in the future.

Switzerland

Preferring the lifesytle of solitude, he was beyond annoyed at the person who had just waltzed into his home like it was nothing. His fingers itched towards one of his guns, but the sudden hug Vash had found himself trapped in stopped him in his tracks. Prying them away he got the first proper look at the person´s face, laced with confusion. "What´s the matter, Daniel? I haven´t seen you in ages, you could have at least called once". Switzerland stating that he didn´t know them or saw them before, brought them to tears. It appearing to them like their beloved brother didn´t want to have to do something with them anymore. Taken aback by the stranger´s emotional outbreak caused him to slightly panic. He wasn´t that good with feelings, not even with close friends, so how should he act in this situation? He had to call the police, that much was obvious but it had to be done discretely. The person, who seemed confused, could resort to harmful behaviour towards both him and themselves if exposed to too much stress. Under the excuse of getting him a glass of water, Vash called the police. Keeping a straight face, Switzerland returned to the living room. As long as it took the police to arrive at his home, he decided to play along in a effort to keep them calm.

Romano

The hotheaded Italian would do what he did best, scream curses in his native tongue. Once his initial anger had passed however, did he only understand the direness of the situation.There was a stranger in his house, a stranger who presumably broke into his home. Shrugging off Romano´s rude “greeting”, the person proceeded to hug him, while referring to him as their brother. Beginning to get creeped out by this behaviour, South Italy began to slowly withdraw himself from the forced hug. It was obvious to him that the person must have some sort of mental problem, maybe Romano bore some resemblance to one of the stranger´s relatives which lead to them following him all way to his home. The possibility of calling the police unnoticed was impossible because the person became his second shadow. Luckily for Romano, Spain had decided to give him a surprise visit. Latter managed to resolve the issue within mere minutes.

Vietnam

She wasn´t a people person, so she appreciated her privacy in her own four walls very much. The person who had appeared out of nowhere in her living room both disturbed her and made her feel slightly anxious. What if they had bad intentions, there weren´t stories depicting a good ending to this Kind of situation. Bracing herself to get physical, as they sprinted towards her the hug caught her off guard. Unsure about what to do now, she simply let the person hold her. While Vietnam was glad that she didn´t have to resort to violence, she was disturbed.by the course of actions. Taking her first chance she dashed to a neighbor´s house, asking them to call the Police.

Cuba

He would be pretty relaxed, thinking he had met them in a bar once. Which was most likely the case, as he quite enjoyed liqour and therefore knew a lot of bars/persons. Hell, it was even possible that he told them where he hid his keys in a drunken haze. Returning the hug and rolling along with them calling him his brother, he never once contemplated calling the police. They seemed like a nice person and were quite funny too, so he only threw them out when the sun bgean to set.

#aph liechtenstein #aph switzerland #aph romano #aph vietnam #aph cuba #admin hungary

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