closed RP: Yuuri gives Wolfram a present. Not THAT kind of present.
Yuuri knew he was in pretty big trouble after Wolfram's attempt at a Christmas dinner had ended in a short but dramatic appearance by the mulleted Maou.
That is to say, Yuuri himself had grown a mullet and become possessed by the spirit of his future self. It wasn't too uncommon an occurrence back in Shin Makoku, unfortunately for the environment in that country and several of its neighbors. Yuuri was always Maou, that being his title, but when he turned into that Maou, the mullet-wearing future Maou, all bets were off.
One unpleasant aftereffect of mulletdom was that Yuuri could never remember just what he'd done as the mulleted Maou. He'd pass out at the end of whatever tirade the Maou happened to be delivering, then wake up completely innocent of any detail, much to his detriment given that everyone else was sure to hold him accountable. Yuuri was sure he must have messed up really badly this time, since Wolfram wasn't even yelling-angry. And yelling-angry was practically Wolfram's default mode. No, Wolfram had been quietly sulking. Yuuri felt like a villager living at the foot of a very quiet, very large, very smoky volcano.
Any day now, it was bound to erupt.
Now, Yuuri was not big on romance, especially not with the fiancé he'd totally had no intention of acquiring. But some peace offering was required. And Valentine's Day was coming, and Yuuri knew that anyone who loved pink frilly nightgowns as much as Wolfram did would surely be all up ons Valentine's Day.
So he got Wolfram a present. It wasn't a romantic present; Yuuri had to draw the line somewhere! He wasn't going to get Wolfram flowers or chocolates. Actually he'd fallen back on an idea he'd been kicking around for some time. Wolfram believed himself a great artist, yet Wolfram's paintings were like the unwanted stepchild of a Picasso and something painted by an elephant at the zoo for novelty value. Maybe photography would offer a plausible redirection for Wolfram's artistic yearnings?
Yuuri bought a reasonably-priced wizarding camera, the kind you could use to take pictures that would wave back at you. He wrapped it himself, in the comics page of the Daily Prophet, using rather too much Spell-o-Tape. Then he went in search of his sulky, sulky fiancé.
That is to say, Yuuri himself had grown a mullet and become possessed by the spirit of his future self. It wasn't too uncommon an occurrence back in Shin Makoku, unfortunately for the environment in that country and several of its neighbors. Yuuri was always Maou, that being his title, but when he turned into that Maou, the mullet-wearing future Maou, all bets were off.
One unpleasant aftereffect of mulletdom was that Yuuri could never remember just what he'd done as the mulleted Maou. He'd pass out at the end of whatever tirade the Maou happened to be delivering, then wake up completely innocent of any detail, much to his detriment given that everyone else was sure to hold him accountable. Yuuri was sure he must have messed up really badly this time, since Wolfram wasn't even yelling-angry. And yelling-angry was practically Wolfram's default mode. No, Wolfram had been quietly sulking. Yuuri felt like a villager living at the foot of a very quiet, very large, very smoky volcano.
Any day now, it was bound to erupt.
Now, Yuuri was not big on romance, especially not with the fiancé he'd totally had no intention of acquiring. But some peace offering was required. And Valentine's Day was coming, and Yuuri knew that anyone who loved pink frilly nightgowns as much as Wolfram did would surely be all up ons Valentine's Day.
So he got Wolfram a present. It wasn't a romantic present; Yuuri had to draw the line somewhere! He wasn't going to get Wolfram flowers or chocolates. Actually he'd fallen back on an idea he'd been kicking around for some time. Wolfram believed himself a great artist, yet Wolfram's paintings were like the unwanted stepchild of a Picasso and something painted by an elephant at the zoo for novelty value. Maybe photography would offer a plausible redirection for Wolfram's artistic yearnings?
Yuuri bought a reasonably-priced wizarding camera, the kind you could use to take pictures that would wave back at you. He wrapped it himself, in the comics page of the Daily Prophet, using rather too much Spell-o-Tape. Then he went in search of his sulky, sulky fiancé.