#Oymyakon

[unbfacts]

#Russia #Oymyakon #Coldest place on Earth #Places

[mapsontheweb]

The coldest permanently inhabited settlement on Earth, Oymyakon (Russia), just dropped to an unforgiving -61.0°C (-77.8°F).

One of the coldest moments in recorded history in this part pf the world for this early in the winter.

by @ScottDuncanWX

#maps #twittersourced #ScottDuncanWX #weather #oymyakon

[destinosmaravillosos]

¡Descubre Oymyakon! ❄️🇷🇺 Uno de los lugares más fríos del mundo con temperaturas de hasta -60 grados Celsius. Experimenta la vida siberiana, disfruta de la belleza natural y visita el famoso árbol de Navidad de la ciudad 🎄. ¡No te pierdas esta experiencia única! #Oymyakon #Siberia #Rusia #PoloFrío #InviernoExtremo #VidaSiberiana #ViajesIncreibles #DestinosExóticos #NaturalezaSalvaje #MundoHelado #TurismoSostenible #ViajesInolvidables #oymyakonrussia (en Oymyakon) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqBnlbVsCGS/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#oymyakon #siberia #rusia #polofrío #inviernoextremo #vidasiberiana #viajesincreibles #destinosexóticos #naturalezasalvaje #mundohelado #turismosostenible #viajesinolvidables #oymyakonrussia

[why-am-i-not-fictional]

Eraserhead baby adpotion - update

Obviously bing wasn't very helpful but aagghh these look just too cute 😭❤

Oh yeah and the family mansion in Oymyakon

#why does he looks like an ice cream in the 1st pic #Eraserhead baby adopted!!! #loki x reader #Loki's Oymyakon mansion lol 😆 #self ship #reality shifting #f/o x s/i

[matri4rch]

Oh how I adore living on an island where the electric grid just HATES my little village. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WRITE FANFICTION, MUCH LESS EXIST IN THIS DAMNED HEAT?!

ISTG I'll move to a deserted mountain in Alaska. No heat, no shortages, just vibes.

#matriarch has no friends #or maybe to russia #oymyakon wouldn't try to boil me

[brightsoulblogger]

Situated off the coast of Brazil, Snake Island is home to some of the world’s deadliest snakes. The island is off-limits to visitors, as it is home to the golden lancehead viper, which is one of the most venomous snakes in the world.

Although there is no confirmed number, it is estimated that there are around 5,000 snakes on the island. That means there’s roughly one snake for every square meter of land. In other words, you’re never more than a few feet away from a lethal snake when you’re on Snake Island.

#.Snake Island of Brazil #Mount Washington #USA #Oymyakon Village #Ciudad Juarez #Mexico #Danakil Desert

[shotmrmiller]

Inevitable (Ending 1 to Situationship)

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x AFAB! Reader

TW: Major Character Death, blood, hurt/ little comfort, a g o n y

Simon closes his eyes in defeat. He had been dancing with death for too long, and it'd finally come to collect it's dues.

This particular mission had been long. He knew it would be. Price had debriefed him on it months before— since it would only be them two. They were the seniors of the task force. They've done a similar mission before, so it seemed only natural that they did it again.

But it didn't mean it hadn't been shit since they arrived.

Almost 9 months out in the freezing cold, MRE's every day, waiting for the chance to finally get their hands on vital information that would save millions.

It was a tiny town in Russia, Oymyakon. Home to about 500 people. Soldiers, mostly. The plan had been to wait for a large portion of the small militia to move cities— to another safe house in the nearby city of Khara-Tumul. What prolonged this mission was that while Ghost and Price knew they'd move, they didn't know when. And it had been imperative that the duo get out here not to miss this slim window.

To Simon, this had been a perfect way to not be distracted with the situation back home. With you.

You had been with him for years now, and he always loved going home to you. A warm flat, a home-cooked meal, and the love in your eyes every time he came back from a mission. But then something he hoped wouldn't happen, did. Simon's past chose to catch up with him now. Now, when he finally had something to look forward to in life.

One day, outside his door, was an envelope. He had felt a crushing pressure on his chest. The blood in his veins was cold, and his hands trembled as he picked up the envelope. He squeezed his eyes as he let out a shuddering breath— praying to whatever higher power that the enemies he has made throughout the years don't know about you. He practically rips open the package and his worst fear is confirmed. Photos of you and Simon out on a date. He even remembers the said date because you had been wearing the sexiest leather booties he'd ever seen. Simon had made you wear them as he fucked you into the mattress that night.

Which meant that Simon had to end it with you. He was about to go on a mission for an unprecedented amount of time and he would not be here to protect you. So a month before leaving, he treated you coldly. Harshly. A way he'd never dream of being with you. He would hear you crying in the bedroom and it was a knife to his heart, but to him, it seemed like it was the only way to keep you safe.

Then, a moment he'll never forget. He said that he didn't feel the same for you as he did before. Thought it best if you both went your separate ways and that it had to be within the next two weeks because he was selling the flat and moving away. That whatever of his you had, to give it to him. Any sleeping shirts, photos, and the bloody ring he promised himself you'd wear to your grave.

He was a witness to how you broke at his words. God. He, at that moment. wished his enemies just took him and be done with it. Relieve him of the agony he caused to himself by hurting you. You wailed, agonizingly loud, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and dripping from your chin to the floor for what seemed like hours.

Til your heartbreak turned to rage. You spit venom at him. That if he had another 'cunt' waiting for him somewhere. That if he ever even loved you. You always were his strong merciless woman with fire in your veins and smoke in your lungs. How hard it was to be him, sitting on the couch and blankly stare at the telly without rising to your jibes. To tell you the truth. That there has been no one before you and there won't be one after you. But he forced himself to ignore you as you shoved all of your belongings in your luggage before throwing him the engagement ring and slamming the door.

Gone.

After this, he lived up to his namesake. He was a ghost from your past life. As if he had never been there in the first place. You moved away, far away, and it was bittersweet for Simon because this way you could disappear, out of the limelight. Breathing. Alive.

And he kept an eye on you, from afar. Just to make sure you were safe.

It worked. Both fortunately and unfortunately. You moved on, it seemed. Not from him, which he is so grateful for, but your life went on in every other aspect. It went uninterrupted up until his deployment.

It was supposed to be a simple but long mission. Wait for them to clear out before cleaning house. But even with all the careful planning, and no fucking mistakes, it went tits up.

Somehow they missed one. One fucking enemy. Simon had been standing behind John and turned around after hearing the crunch of broken glass behind him.

One shot to Simon's shoulder, another to his stomach, and then another to the right side of his chest. Before Simon falls, John shoots the last man dead. He throws himself to his knees next to Simon, gloved hands on top of each other as he presses hard into the bullet hole bleeding the most— the one in his ribcage.

"Christ, Ghost. Stay with me, son. We'll get you out of here and patched up in no time, yeah?"

Simon can't hear anything past the rushing of blood in his ears and his own heartbeat, pumping out blood from his wounds with each pulse. Simon's losing too much blood, too fast, and he knows it.

Price is panicking, voice warbling on the radio calling for medevac, but the wait time is 45 minutes. Far too long. And Simon had beat the devil once, long ago. Everyone knows he can't be beaten twice. He opens his mouth and blood bubbles in it as he tries to speak.

"I'm not making it, Captain."

"The hell you're not, Simon, stay with me!"

Simon grabs John's wrist with the little strength he's got left and whispers out, "Captain. John. Please," before digging into the inside of his glove, and pulling out something before clasping it in John's hands and squeezing.

"Please."

John looks at his own hand and nods, eyes glassy with years before he sniffles, clears his throat, and tells Simon of how his daughter had just learned how to argue back when he wouldn't give her any more juice because she's had too much.

Simon is still gripping John's hand as he drops his head back in resignation —before he imagines the family he could've had with you. Pretty little girl with curly hair, your eyes, and all of your attitude. In another life, he thinks, he'd find you there too. In any life, he'd love you.

He wheezes an inhale once—wet, painful— and exhales, and then his chest stills. Hand gripping John's goes limp. John lets out an agonizing scream through his teeth before he presses the button on his radio so hard it cracks.

"All stations— this is Bravo. We got the intel...One KIA."

---

You're in your bed, toasty and warm, when there's a knock on your door. You sharply raise your head before turning to look at the clock.

8 a.m.

'Who in the hell is at my door at this hour?'

You begrudgingly throw the covers to the side, hand on the swell of your belly before rolling up from your side to sit on the edge of the bed, and step into your slippers. One hand underneath your 3rd trimester bump, you drag your feet towards the front door and open it.

A tall man with mutton chops and a black beanie is standing in front of you. He looks down at your heavily pregnant stomach and closes his eyes, softly shaking his head with a, 'Bloody fuckin' hell.'

Your face is contorting into confusion when he opens his mouth to say, "You must be Simon's fiancee."

Your heart starts to pound into your ribcage. You don't even try to refute his claim because you have an inkling of what this is about. 'Please god, no.'

"It is with deep regret that I am here to inform you of the untimely death of your fiance, Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley. He died on active duty, contributing his best to our cause. The reputation gained by your fiance is a fine one, and I hope the knowledge of this affords you pride and comfort during your sorrow. I extend my heartfelt sympathy to you."

Your throat is closing up, choking you as tears well in your eyes. Chest is on fire because you can't breathe and your chin is trembling with the struggle to not weep and fall on your knees. Taking a deep shuddering breath, you clench your teeth. You're livid. Whatever the fuck this is, it isn't good enough for your Simon.

Voice warbly and wet, you hiss, "I could've gotten a casualty letter from the bloody military if I wanted to hear you spew your shit," ending it with a sniffle.

"You're right. May I come in?"

Throwing the door open, you shuffle inside as John steps inside. You're about to sit down when you hear a "Let me.", before the chair you're about to sit on is pulled back. Holding the underside of your belly, you let out a huff as you drop your weight to the seat.

You turn to look at John and you see the clench in his jaw before he opens his mouth to try and speak but he cuts himself off with a clearing of his throat. He takes a second before swallowing and grips the back of one of your dinner table chairs before attempting to speak again.

"Simon was one of my best." Your eyes soften at how frail and shaky his voice sounds.

"He was always at my six. Said it was to be the eyes I didn't have at the back of my head. But I know he always had his facing an open area whenever I was turned around. He died for me. Had he been standing anywhere else other than behind me, he would still be here," and he breaks down, shaky sobs leaving him.

You slowly get up, hand to your lower back before moving to him and giving him an embrace as you wail into his shirt— mourning the loss of a loved one.

It seems like a long time before John taps your upper back and says, "Come. This cannot be good for the baby. You need some relaxing tea, eh?"

With hiccupping breaths, you pull away to look at him before nodding.

"Come. You're gonna make it for me. I wish to get to know what kind of extraordinary man you must be. Simon would not have given his life for less."

He gives a self-deprecating chuckle before he digs into his pockets, before holding his fist out, dog tags glinting under the light and a small white square between his thumb and index. That square has your address written in shorthand and it had a bloody streak over a part of it— the streak the shape of a finger, as if ripped out from someone's hand.

"His dog tags. As well as what Simon on his dying breath. He carried this with him, and by the state of how crumpled it is, he had it everywhere with him."

You take the chain, putting it around your neck— tags resting against your belly— before taking the paper. It's a photo of you. You're in a flower sundress, skin glowing under the rays of the sun with a blinding smile and rosy cheeks. You knew this photo. Simon always claimed it was his favorite. That he loved your smile here because He had made you smile like that.

Your tears are slipping from your eyes and dripping onto your pajamas before picking up the dog tags and pressing a kiss onto the cold metal, then letting them drop. Little baby Riley gives a swift kick to where the tags landed on your stomach.

@thychuvaluswife

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty

[sovietpostcards]

Clothesline near the airport of Oymyakon, Yakutia (USSR, 1968)

#1960s #planes #ussr #soviet #clothesline

[mistydeyes]

Mission gone wrong ?

Where reader and ghost are stuck in Oymyakon during winter,freezing in the snow waiting for backup?

ahhhh anon! thank you so much for this request!! i love the idea so much (like cmon who wouldn’t want to be stuck w simon in a cabin)

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summary: After the mission goes completely south, you and Ghost are left trudging through the wintery landscape of Oymyakon. When you finally arrive in the comfort of a secluded cabin, you two try to make light of the situation.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader

warnings: swearing, violence

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"Just a little bit further," Ghost encouraged as you trudged through the meter-high snow. His voice echoed across the frozen landscape. As far as the eye could see, there were sparse trees coated in a heavy blanket of snow and ice. Getting away from the guns and snowmobiles was half the battle but now you were making the expedition to this fabled safe house. Out of all the missions you had with him, of course, this one had to go to absolute shit. "That's what you said 30 minutes ago," you mumbled, following in his large footprints. You had lost feeling in your lower extremities and you wondered how he could continue. With every step, you could feel pins and needles shoot through your sore body. Your breath felt harsh on your knitted balaclava and you secretly envied the many layers of fabric and silicone of Ghost's infamous mask. "If you quit complaining, it'll make the journey quicker," he said and you could tell the bastard had a smirk on his face. "God I hate Oymyakon."

Eventually, you could see a small cabin on the edge of your vision. "A mirage in the cold desert," you could hear Ghost joke and you picked up the pace. "Price did say this was isolated," you said through your chattering teeth, finally seeing the full picture of the home in arm's reach. You gripped the cold padlock in your gloved fingers and inputted the memorized set of coded numbers. Ghost shoved the iced-over door and gave way into the darkened, freezing cabin. "Home sweet home," you joked half-heartedly as you checked the bare-bones setup. Safe houses were all the same, only having the most simple of necessities and furnishings. As Ghost rummaged for a life-saving space heater, you looked through the cabinets to see if there were any food or hand warmers. The metal handle felt frigid on your fingertips and you saw two sizable mugs at home on the empty shelf.

"How romantic," Ghost said behind you and you jumped at the sudden baritone of his voice, "You gonna make us some tea?" You rolled your eyes at his typical British humor. "Maybe, if you got that space heater working," you replied and he gestured exaggeratedly to the small glowing machine that lit up the living room. "Speaks for itself," he smirked and you rolled your eyes before brushing past him to warm yourself. You took off your frozen boots and shook out your socks and jacket before you were left in your thermals under your gear. You could hear Ghost rummaging around in the adjacent bedroom before returning with two blankets. "No clothes but I do have these," he said and held up the flannel blankets. You nodded and he added his outerwear and gear next to yours.

As you sat wrapped in your blankets, you watched the snowfall and wind whip through the air. "If we weren't stuck here, this would actually be nice," you smiled as you stretched out your fingers in front of the space heater. "I got a cabin up in the Isle of Sky," he mentioned, "if we make it out of here, remind me to take you there." You beamed up at him and nodded eagerly at the offer. "That's in Scotland, right?" you asked and he let out a small grunt in confirmation. "This isn't some boy's cabin you and Soap share, right?" you questioned and he chuckled at the absurdity of the thought. "Fuckin' hell, I'd never," he swore, "just something I bought with a Lieutenant's salary." You thought for a moment before responding to his initial offer. "Well then, is that an offer for a romantic getaway, Lt?" you questioned and he quickly looked away from you. Despite the dim lighting of the room, you could see the subtle hint of pink on his ears. "Depends, hopefully evac gets here before we freeze to death." You shared a dry laugh as you continued to look out the window.

Before you knew it, the sun had set over the horizon and your body began to shut down from the day's events. You tried to suppress your yawn in your blanketed arm but Ghost noticed your small action. "You should sleep, there's one bed in the room over there," he gestured as you laughed softly. "Only one bed?" you smirked and you could almost hear his eye roll. "Not the time," he mumbled before he moved his hand in dismissal, "I'll keep the first watch." You got up slowly and dragged the blanket behind you. You reached the doorway and turned to him, wishing him a quiet goodnight. As you settled into the warm sheets, you turned to face the doorway and smiled as you saw Ghost perched over the small heater. If there was anything that was motivating you to survive, it was the potential to spend a weekend in a snowy cabin with Simon and no threat of danger.

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #mw2 #izzie is writing

[gacougnol]

Emil Schulthess

Oymyakon

Yakutia, Russia, 1968

#emil schulthess

[schweizercomics]

Companions of Christmas day 4: Chyskhaan, Khaarchana, and Ekhe Dyyl

Chyskhaan

One of two traditional giftgivers of the Yakut of Siberia (the other being Ekhe Dyyl), Chyskhaan lives north of Oymyakon, the coldest town in the world. Since time began, people have brought him gifts on the longest night of the year as a tribute, in the hopes that he will mitigate the cold and allow warmth and daylight to return to Siberia (though slowly and evenly, that the villages might not be flooded from the snow melt).

He spends the week of Christmas going through the offerings and taking what he will need for the year, and then, on New Year’s, he distributes the remaining majority of gifts to children and those in need who, regardless of their station, are treated by Chyskhaan with the dignity and ceremony as would befit a king or queen.

Ekhe Dyyl

Ekhe Dyyl is one of two traditional giftgivers of the Yakut people of Siberia (the other being Chyskhaan). Whereas Chyskhaan is imperious and icy, a reminder of the command that winter holds over the lives of those who live most deeply in its grip, Ekhe is warm and unpretentious, a proud bumpkin and boisterous reveler who rides a dirty, shaggy bull named Ükerinto into the towns and villages he visits.

When presented with a bowl of delicious mare’s milk, Ekhe will wave his brushwhip over a child and a gift will appear in their hands.

Khaarchana

Khaarchana is the granddaughter of both Chyskhaan on her mother’s side and Ekhe Dyyl on her father’s. From birth, she learned to bounce back and forth between their very different holiday celebrations and expectations. Chyskhaan’s reverent and solemn traditionalism and Ekhe’s edacious, riotous merrymaking are often at stark contrast, as are the grandfathers themselves: Chyskhaan has, on more than one occasion, called Ekhe a classless, gluttonous yokel, and Ekhe has let Chyskhaan know that the former considers the latter a stuffy, bumptious snob.

When the winter giftgivers were, for a generation, expelled from Russia following its revolution, Khaarchana realized that children across Siberia would suffer greatly from the absence of her grandfathers. Despite the danger posed by Stalin’s minions and the difficulty in reconciling the two seemingly different approaches to the holidays, Khaarchana decided to fill their shoes, making sure that no child in (what is now) the Sakha Republic would go without during winter festivities, and that the festivities themselves would be as rich and wonderful as they had ever been.

Going in with no experience, she consulted the longtime friend and colleague of both grandfathers, Santa Claus, whose advice was to be true to herself. The celebrations of the winter holidays are always changing and growing, and reverence and merrymaking needn’t be mutually exclusive.

Knowing the peril that her mission would put her in, Santa gave Khaarchana a magical snowflake, which, when worn on her head, would render her invisible, allowing her to plan and maneuver under the eyes of the Russian secret police, only removing it and allowing herself to be seen on the New Year when she would hand out the presents she had strategically hidden in homes across Siberia.

When her grandfathers were eventually permitted to return to the Russian-controlled region, they found that Khaarchana had kept the spirit of love and giving alive during their absence, and had unified their two approaches into one one messy, inconsistent, glorious celebration. Though both were resistant to change, and to each other, Chyskhaan and Ehke began to accompany Khaarchana on her rounds, and, though they still bicker like old hens, they have become close friends, while Khaarchana, in addition to her role as giftgiver, is the patron of all who have to navigate the sometimes-conflicting holiday celebrations (and schedules) of more than one family.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Happy December, friends! Each year around this time I post up drawings of Christmas and other winter holiday figures, along with narratives to explain the practices with which folklorists and holiday buffs might be familiar. When stories exist, I use them; when they don't, I do what I can to piece together what folklore surrounds them to fill in the gaps (or, in some instances, defer to the theories of my friend and fellow narrative reconcilianist Benito Cereno). I hope you enjoy them!

#Winter Holidays #Christmas Around the World #Chyskhaan #Khaarchana #Ekhe Dyyl #Siberia

[russiawave]

Life in the COLDEST PLACE on Earth (Record-Breaking Cold!) | Yakutsk, Yakutia

Life in the Coldest place on earth, the region of Yakutia (Republic of Sakha), Siberia, Russia, & the Worlds coldest city, Yakutsk. We traveled to Yakutsk in the middle of winter to find out how people here survive in the toughest climate in the world. Little did we know, we would manage to time it so perfect that we would actually arrive during the coldest day in the last 20 years (-63'C / '81.5'F). The lowest air temperature ever recorded in this region is -96°F (-71°C). The coldest town is Oymyakon, which is also in Yakutia, Siberia. Life up here in the coldest city and region on planet earth is tough, and winter is long, however, people have lived here for centuries. The Yakut (Sakha) people have called this region home for generations and their unique culture & attitude to life has helped them thrive here in cold tundra of Yakutia, Siberia.

#Youtube

[not-thenauts]

You know what, Nationality time :

1. Captain Barnacles 🇷🇺 -

I know that Barnacles, in the show at least, should live in the arctic circle around Canada.

And it’s true for this AU. Captain Barnacles and Bianca are half Natives and Russians. This inspiration came from “Dangerous Ways to School” where the setting was in a Russian village called Oymyakon and also a Native tribe that live near the arctic circle .

It would be interesting representation, since they live in the Arctic Circle and there are plenty of cultures there. But I also have a soft spot for Russians so… 🤫

I didn’t research a whole lot, but they could be either Inuit or Yupik (Eskimo?). There’s a difference between the two when it comes to their geography, but I’ll decide it later in the future when I have enough evidence for Barnacles’ and Bianca’s nationality.!

The blue on his eyes is face paint.

He knows Russian very well.

I also like to think they went to a missionary English school to learn the fundamentals. Which is where they got their British accents.

2. Kwazii 🇮🇹 -

I love myself a screaming pirate-enthusiast Italian!

Kwazii’s parents were all dead, but thankfully he already adapted to his Italian heritage.

His heritage comes from Italy and Italy is surrounded by the Mediterranean Sea, and ancient pirates lived along the Mediterranean Sea, FIGHT ME.

There aren’t much Italian pirates in “Ancient times”, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t none of them. They were overlooked but found in Spanish navies.

Too much information, not in the mood for researching, keep an eye out for future updates.

Kwazii knows a lot of Italian slang and phrases that it often slips.

European descent.

#octonauts #nocturnal octonauts #captain barnacles #octonauts kwazii #kwazii #octonauts captain barnacles #Octonauts nationality #heritage #I hate researching #Italy #italian #russian #indegenous #pirates #pirate heritage #arctic circle

[mannythejaguar]

"Excuse me, pardon me, sorry––" Seemed about right that the two most popular nightlife options would be packed tonight. Apparently New Year's Eve was a hopping event, even in Oymyakon Russia where a council of vampires hosted a luxury resort full of supernatural and natural sex slaves. It still wasn't as chaotic as Times Square on this night but it was still pretty busy. Manny thought Cannbites would be the safer option this evening and he might've been right. As he waded through the crowd to the bar he only wondered what this shit show might look like in Raphael De Luca's newest pet project a few blocks down. He finally made it to the counter and let out a relieved exhale that he survived the trip but the berserker was determined to have another drink in his hand before midnight in... about 13 minutes. He waved down the bartender who acknowledged him and then turned to the guy beside him –– Florian the doctor from the castle he recognized. "Damn, I didn't realize even the people in Krovs wanted to come out and have such a good time on New Year's Eve," he said. "I don't remember ever seeing so many people out here in one night, do you?"

@doctorflorian

#new years 2024;; florian #para #doctorflorian #krovs new years 2024 #too lazy for gifs but feel free to use them if you want

[lorenzoxreyes]

After receiving a message from his father which consisted of the time and whereabouts for their catch up meal, Enzo took a quick shower, tidied up his stubble -- which had admittedly got a little out of hand in the last few weeks -- and got dressed, opting for a black Versace suit with a plain black t-shirt underneath. It wasn't overly formal, but wasn't too casual either; Lorenzo figured he should make an effort since the restaurant in town that Raphael had picked looked incredibly fancy. The siren made a mental note not to accidentally embarrass himself somehow in such a posh setting, and also in front of his father who he very much wanted to impress.

After a relatively short yet refreshing walk down Oymyakon Street, Enzo found the restaurant Raphael had sent him details of and made his way inside, greeting the waiter who showed him to the table. His father, of course, was already sat there waiting for him. "Thought I'd be fashionably late," Enzo joked as he greeted Raphael, giving a little chuckle. "Hope you've not been waiting too long?" He asked, raising a dark eyebrow slightly as the waiter slid his chair out so he could sit down. With a small nod of thanks to the waiter, Enzo took a seat, relaxing as best he could. "It's still so strange, y'know? Actually getting to see and speak to you."

@nottheangel-raphael

#raphael #i hope this is ok <3

[irespectedman]

👀😮 Yakutia. Oymyakon. We swim at -56*.