Chapter 5!
Nunavut LOVES the park. And running. And swimming. And chasing the Ibis. Not so much getting chased by the vultures, though. They lived in the park, too.
It was a relatively small park, about five miles from my house. I try to save gas when I can, so me, Matthew and Nunavut walked. It was kind of long, but all on one side of the road, and required no crossing. This was good, as Semoran Blvd is a very dangerous road even when you're IN a car. To pedestrians, it's even worse. God-of-your-choice help you if you're a canine in that mess. Orlando drivers are freaking NASTY.
Oh yeah, I live in Florida. America. Ironic that I received a Canadian, then, eh? Heheh…"eh"…accent joke.
The walk itself was uneventful, with Nunavut sniffing the random pedestrians we passed. Most of them ignored him, one crossed the street, and a few waved. The wind was gusting a little, tossing dried leaves and trash along the street. Maybe I've been living in Florida for too long, but I thought it was cold. I need to go back to Pennsylvania.
Being winter - January, really - it was a pretty cool day for the Orlando area, with a predicted high temperature of 60, and an wind chill to make it a balmy 56. The high I'd gotten used to was 95, and the low, 70. Degrees in Farenheight, not Celceus. I never could remember that conversion formula.
Nunavut was just fine with the weather (with all his fur), and Canada had his fluffy military jacket (of which I was jealous). Being a college student on a budget and no real idea of how to handle it, I only had my cosplay jacket.
My America cosplay jacket.
Oh, hi, Irony. Welcome back.
Thankfully, Canada didn't comment on my choice of outer wear….at least, for the first twenty minutes. I saw him sneaking glances at me every so often, obviously wanting to ask, but maybe he didn't know how to ask without being impolite. Aww, sweet Canadian. Stereotypical, but sweet.
"It's cosplay." I spoke up. Canada blinked.
"Eh?" He asked. My inner fangirl squealed. He said 'eh'! I twisted Nunavut's leash around my hand and gave it a tug, pulling him away from some poor squirrel he'd just given heart attack. Silly Newfie. Dogs don't eat acorns.
"The jacket," I clarified. "It's for cosplay. I don't own any other jackets, and my only sweatshirt got left behind the last time I went home for a visit." I explained. Canada tilted his head. I decided to be a jackass for a moment. "Me, college student. Live on budget." I got to watch those (sexy) violet eyes light up, in some interesting mix of realization and annoyance.
"It doesn't look all that warm, eh." He noticed. I shrugged.
"It's not, really….just cheap fabric. But the collar is nice and fluffy!" Canada eyed my jacket again.
"….does it even close?" I paused at this and glanced down. A cup? Flat. B cup? Slightly better. C cup? Nice to stare at. D cup? Whistle. DD cup? Hellooooooo Nurse!
"Um…well, no. But it's not supposed to." I covered quickly. "It's meant to hang open over the rest of the cosplay." Canada raised an eyebrow at me.
"Then why wear it, eh?" There he went again, with his sexy 'eh's! God, his accent is killing me. If he keeps talking with this amount of sexy, I'll never focus on another project again! And that would just waste all $75000 of my tuition…
"Because it keeps my arms warm." I turned away and walked dramatically after Nunavut, ending the conversation. Canada caught up to my short stride easily, rolling his eyes.
"At least the jacket matches, eh."
The general attitude cheered up when we reached the park, and spent the few hours I could spare chasing Nunavut and his frisbee (which he had oh-so-proudly carried all the way to the park). A few times, the wind picked up and carried the supposedly unchewable flying disc halfway across the park. By the time we decided to start walking back home, I swear, I'd worked off that chocolate muffin I'd eaten for lunch.
The cheery air didn't last, however, because when we reached my apartment complex, there was a very familiar truck sitting in the loop behind my car. Nunavut started barking and bounded up the steps, wagging his tail and begging the grinning delivery man for a belly rub. It took all my willpower not to facepalm as I followed my dog up the steps, with Canada trailing behind me.
"Two in one day?" I whined. "Really?" Dan just grinned at me. If he weren't so cute, I'd have smacked him one good.
"I told you, I live close by." He held out the clipboard again. Scowling and doing my best to melt his (deviously cute) brain with my nonexistent laser vision, I signed my name. "Want some help getting it inside?" He asked cheerfully. I sulkily handed back the clipboard.
"No. I've got Canada to help." Dan stared for a moment.
"…who?" Then his eyes lit up. "Oh! Right! This morning's delivery! Sorry." He gave Nunavut one last ear scratch and tipped his hat. "See you later!" I watched him climb into the Flying Mint Bunny Express truck and drive away before looking up at Canada.
"…..sooo…help me get this inside?" Canada sighed, looking depressed.
"Sure…." Aww, no 'eh' that time. After a moment of thought, I reached up and patted his shoulder.
"I'll get the door…..and don't worry. He just couldn't see your awesome." Canada gave a little smile.
"You sound just like Gilbert, eh." Squee! He said 'eh'!
Once the box was inside and the smaller top box taken down, I raided my art table for that 98 cent sliding knife. Finding it, I slid out the point and cut the tape loose, then shut it and tossed it back on the table. I'd probably forget I did that later, but my projects were all finished, so it's not like I'd be needing it any time soon. Not really paying attention to what else was in the small box, I dug my hand inside in search of the manual. Canada busied himself with feeding Nunavut, since the Newfie was now lying pathetically beside his bowl, whining and crying up a storm.
"Only one cup, okay?" I told the Canadian as he found the bag of kibble in the pantry. "He snarfs enough table scraps to make up the rest-" I stopped. Having felt my fingers encounter something soft, I had pulled it out, and was now holding one of the biggest roses I had ever seen in my life. Make what jokes you will. "...I think I know who we got." I looked inside the box this time and pulled out the manual from beneath a box that I'd rather not touch.
"Congratulations, you have just received your very own FRANCIS BONNEFOY Unit, a.k.a.: FRANCE..."
Because I not-so-secretly adore France.