Portentous
(por-TEN-𝘵𝘶𝘴𝘴)
Adjective,
1. Of or being like a portent, of momentous significance. A warning, being ominous and foreboding. Usually relating to a calamity or of apocalyptic nature. Used in foreshadowing.
2. Done in a pompously or ove...
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Song: Farewell Wanderlust by The Amazing Devil
After all the formalities and introductions were dealt with, Wilbur got everyone's attention and cleared his throat to begin reading out the votes.
"Tonight is the inauguration. We're not just deciding who wins tonight, we're also inaugurating them," Wilbur started, his voice booming as he spoke into the microphone with the ease of a born leader. I always respected Wilbur for that. His ability to masterfully weave together words like fine silk, his voice commanding yet collected. His speech mannerisms reflected his ideals and he always carefully constructed his sentences for the maximum effect.
"When we announce who wins, they will come up here and we will all listen to their first decree as President," I swallowed around a lump in my throat as Wilbur addressed the crowd directly. "Thank you for coming here today to watch a historic moment! The passing over of the Presidency for the first election of L'manberg," the tall male continued to drone on about the parties being represented in this election and the number of votes which were collected. It was honestly quite boring to me and I found myself zoning out. It soon became apparent that there was a fair amount of voter fraud and therefore several thousand votes needed to be discounted. At this, the crowd broke into a state of uproar and it took a few minutes for everyone to become quiet once again. The bespeckled man then proceeded to list the total votes for each participating party.
"With 9% of the vote, in fourth place, is COCONUT 2020," Fundy and Niki began to hoot joyously at the results, much to the confusion and amusement of others present. I suppose they never really were out to win this election, they just wanted to have a little bit of fun and be involved in something. You can't hold that against them.
"With 16% of the vote, coming in third place is SCHLATT 2020," the audience fell silent, everyone waiting with bated breath now that we were down to the final two contending parties. The frontrunners of this election. Whatever Wilbur said next would decide the President of my home.
"In second place, with 30% of the popular vote..." the brunette dragged out his sentence for dramatic effect, pausing before he dropped the proverbial bomb on us.
"Led by the party leader Quackity, SWAG 2020. Meaning that the winner of the popular vote by 45% is POG 2020, led by me and Tommyinnit," a combination of cheers, my own included drowned out Wilbur's voice. But something wasn't right. Wilbur should be happy, cheering with the rest of us, like Tommy who was dancing around the stage in glee. But he wasn't. His face was sullen and morose. I examined his dark eyes and fear stared back at me.
"LISTEN!" Wilbur commanded, yelling above the ruckus. Tommy continued to celebrate, his partner attempting desperately to calm him so he could continue speaking.
"Last night, after the announcement of SCHLATT 2020, Quackity made a deal with the leader of SCHLATT 2020. Quackity said that no matter what happens, Quackity would pool SWAG 2020 votes on with SCHLATT 2020 votes," realizing the severity of this alliance, I found myself gasping and holding my hands up to my mouth. This was bad.
