[So, it was a couple days after they'd gotten a network and she'd managed to finally track down the account of the guy that she'd fought alongside on horseback. he'd been intriguing, not to mention he had a whole lot of pent up rage that screamed that it wanted out, which she honestly liked quite a bit, so she threw him a text when she found him.
There was only one problem. could Ivar read l33t sp34k?]
H3Y Y0U! H3Y 1 F0UND Y0U!
(OOC: For the sake of your eyes, let me know if you want the l33t garble to continue. If not, just assume that's how she texts. Girl's stubborn about it. At least it isn't teal ... yet.)
[OOC: The l33t speak can continue if only because I just discovered in an article today Vikings legitimately did the same thing replacing letters with numbers. No, really. Medieval leet speak!]
[It takes Ivar a moment to decipher the message. He's one of the few literate Norsemen at home and they're not a culture much for writing things down. But surprisingly, they do have the habit of replacing runic letters with runic numbers since the former could sometimes represented the latter. So once he realizes that is what is going on, he's nonplussed about the whole thing.]
(OOC: That... is amazing. I learn something every day. Thank you for making today's something actually interesting. ^_^)
[Huh? That was not what she expected to see coming from anyone in this place. Of course she could... oh wait, some of these people were from the technologically degenerate boonyland times weren't they? That actually explained a little come to think of it.]
[ The first thing Ivar should notice is how much it suddenly looks like Mike had a growth spurt. ]
Hey, Ivar. Somehow I went home while I was asleep here - super confusing - but I'm back and want to get back into training again. Sorry if it seemed like I bailed on our lessons. I didn't on purpose. I was literally in some kind of coma or something.
[Ivar would like to think that's one of the weirder things he's heard in this place, but hey, Asgard is really frigging weird, so that'd be a lie. He takes a moment to digest all that before answering Mike.]
Huh. Looks like you finally grew taller.
[Yep, gotta get that jibe in before anything serious.]
Told you. [ Not that lankiness is anything to boast about. ] It's weird being back here. I feel like I never left but I must have... I dunno, I just wanna get back to training. I haven't forgotten what you told me. [ He thinks... We'll see. ]
most of their conversations haven't ended the best or have been so tentative, klaus is left wondering if he should respect the viking or deck him. in his defense, he's not quite stupid enough to try the latter move since his self-preservation's high enough to know better; it doesn't mean he understands why he feels the need to do this.]
[Ivar is surprised to see Klaus texting him. Frankly, he thought he'd scared off the skittish man after their last conversation. It's not that he intends to be a holy terror all the time, but he does enjoy making sure everyone is afraid of him at all times. He texts back after a few minutes.]
[even those few minutes make klaus antsy, have him fidgeting with the unraveled hemp cords he's got in his lap and that should be telling. this was a stupid idea; ivar won't want anything he has to offer and if he does, it's certainly not going to be jewelry he's made—]
it's stupid i probably shouldn't have even messaged you about it [backspaced.] how do you feel about mushrooms?
[ ooc: set right after witnessing this exchange. ]
Ey, Ivar, hello. Not to be a bother but you're talking with my girlfriend in your announcement about the locals' bloody actions last night. Gorgeous green woman, looks like she could rip off your spine without effort? That's her.
Human sacrifices are a very touchy subject for us both because some really bad shit that happened home. I know it's a matter of culture and honor but could you not antagonize her about this? As a favor to me? I mean you can argue with her to your heart content about anything else.
[There's a long and resigned sigh that turns into a sort of whine once Ivar finally speaks.]
Must I?
[He's torn between his usual desire to antagonize people as much as possible and wanting to keep his friendship with Peter. See, this is why he shouldn't become friends with people. Then he could just do what he wants.]
[ Ivar, don't make Peter pout at you. He can give some serious Puppy eye looks. ]
Please? Just this time. [ Having friends is a good thing, man, even if they sometimes get picky about murder. Peter at lest offers a proper explanation. ] She got sacrificed back home by someone close to her, you can imagine why it's not a practice she's fond of.
But as you said, she's a warrior and I'm sure you can talk about a whole lot other things. You could fight her if you want? She might even enjoy the exercise. [ There's a pause as peter considers things, and then smiles a little. ] I think you'd enjoy fighting with her too, she never holds back. [ And man, it is hot. ]
Mostly she just feels kinda dumb how she's dressed up. But he said white robes, whatever that meant - and a crown type thing. The latter made her feel a little too much like Aurelia, and fuck that bitch. But she has tried because it mattered to Ivar, and that was as good a reason as she'd ever had to do most things. So where no, nothing is fancy. It is neat, and clear that she's made some kind of effort.
Rhys wasn't using this shirt, anyway. Lucky that dude was a giant string bean, so his white shirt falls easily to the top of her legs, everything covered where it needs to be. Her belt tied around her waist to try and give her some shape ( sue her, she didn't care about impressing anyone, but she cared about looking her version of good ), but mostly so she could holster the knives and hammer off the leather loops. The diadem, in this case, is just wires and weeds, tied around to make a loose circlet. Hair out for once, bright orange and messy.
Waiting by Honir's Temple, fiddling with the buttons on the middle of the shirt, tapping her metal finger on one, that absent habit that made it impossible to stay still. Scuffing a boot, tugging the black stockings she'd put on underneath. Just odd, and not very tall, little in a way that doesn't match just how much she can and does run her mouth. If it weren't on closer inspection the medley of cuts and scrapes and bruises, bullet wounds and buzz axes and that sharp grin when she catches sight of him, lifting a hand to wave him over. "Hey buddy, sup, it's me!"
It takes Ivar a while to make sure he'll look proper for the sacrifice and also to gather up two chickens. He at first thinks about just stuffing them in a sack, but considering how many people have been freaking out over the treatment of the animals, he decides instead to put them in a small coop one of the natives had made so he won't have to listen to anyone complain. Then he sets out, the coop propped on his lap while he's in the wheel chair.
He looks unusually happy when he sees Gaige, at least as far as Ivar's default expression went considering he usually looks like he wants to murder someone. While it wasn't quite the traditional garb for a sacrifice, she'd put forth the effort, and that's what mattered. He waves back and wheels over.
"Alright. We've got the chickens, knives, and bowls. That's about all we really need. Let's get this going, shall we?" This is gonna be fun, at least as far as the definition of the word meant in Ivar and Gaige's minds.
"You know it, hot stuff." The same breeziness in tone, eager to see him as before.
Definitely fun, as far as she concerned, and most especially, it's something to do when she sees him. Bouncing over in long steps of someone short that is used to keeping up with much taller people. But when she comes closer she bops down on her feet, balancing her arms to draw even with the chicken coop in his lap, peering in at the chickens trapped within. "Awww, you're so cute. And dumb. Ready for your big day?" She wiggles her flesh and bone fingers into the cage, ruffling some of their feathers. Then tilts her face up to smile at Ivar.
But with it, she rises up onto her feet to stand straight again. Tugging the shirt down a little where it seemed to inevitably ride up whenever she moved. "I'm yours to command. Let's murder a chicken."
[He does note the change in diction, and takes it as a small step.] There's a room by the clinic I've converted to a work room. By chance it has a closet that works well for storing wine and other drinks that require brewing.
[On Valentine's Day, Ivar will receive a bright red card with a little rabbit hand-painted on the front. Inside is a little note in perfectly neat cursive and a small bag of chocolate chip cookies.]
Your royal majesty,
Happy Valentines Day! I don't know if you know what the holiday is, but please enjoy these chocolate chip cookies I made in any case!
Oh! Your majesty! I'm so glad you liked it! It's a holiday where you send small gifts, or poems, love notes, and treats to loved ones. Back home it's a bit different, you're only supposed to send the gifts and the sort to those you're romantically in love with, but Sora said you can send them to friends and family too now! And you're one of my friends!
Text
There was only one problem. could Ivar read l33t sp34k?]
H3Y Y0U!
H3Y 1 F0UND Y0U!
(OOC: For the sake of your eyes, let me know if you want the l33t garble to continue. If not, just assume that's how she texts. Girl's stubborn about it. At least it isn't teal ... yet.)
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[It takes Ivar a moment to decipher the message. He's one of the few literate Norsemen at home and they're not a culture much for writing things down. But surprisingly, they do have the habit of replacing runic letters with runic numbers since the former could sometimes represented the latter. So once he realizes that is what is going on, he's nonplussed about the whole thing.]
You can read and write?
[This isn't common for Ivar to find.]
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[Huh? That was not what she expected to see coming from anyone in this place. Of course she could... oh wait, some of these people were from the technologically degenerate boonyland times weren't they? That actually explained a little come to think of it.]
Y34H, 0F C0URS3!
1S TH1S R34LLY 4LL TH4T STR4NG3 WH3R3 Y0U C0M3 FR0M?
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[Hence why Vikings got a bad rep later on in history, since their enemies were the ones writing things down about them.]
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video;
Hey, Ivar. Somehow I went home while I was asleep here - super confusing - but I'm back and want to get back into training again. Sorry if it seemed like I bailed on our lessons. I didn't on purpose. I was literally in some kind of coma or something.
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Huh. Looks like you finally grew taller.
[Yep, gotta get that jibe in before anything serious.]
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Told you. [ Not that lankiness is anything to boast about. ] It's weird being back here. I feel like I never left but I must have... I dunno, I just wanna get back to training. I haven't forgotten what you told me. [ He thinks... We'll see. ]
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text; (day ninety, afternoon)
most of their conversations haven't ended the best or have been so tentative, klaus is left wondering if he should respect the viking or deck him. in his defense, he's not quite stupid enough to try the latter move since his self-preservation's high enough to know better; it doesn't mean he understands why he feels the need to do this.]
i have something for you
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Oh? What is it?
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it's stupid i probably shouldn't have even messaged you about it[backspaced.]how do you feel about mushrooms?
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Gah that moment when you have an epic HTML fail...
oh dude you are totally fine haha!! it happens
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Video | Private
Ey, Ivar, hello. Not to be a bother but you're talking with my girlfriend in your announcement about the locals' bloody actions last night. Gorgeous green woman, looks like she could rip off your spine without effort? That's her.
Human sacrifices are a very touchy subject for us both because some really bad shit that happened home. I know it's a matter of culture and honor but could you not antagonize her about this? As a favor to me? I mean you can argue with her to your heart content about anything else.
[ Come on, Ivar, be a bro :< you owe him one. ]
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Must I?
[He's torn between his usual desire to antagonize people as much as possible and wanting to keep his friendship with Peter. See, this is why he shouldn't become friends with people. Then he could just do what he wants.]
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Please? Just this time. [ Having friends is a good thing, man, even if they sometimes get picky about murder. Peter at lest offers a proper explanation. ] She got sacrificed back home by someone close to her, you can imagine why it's not a practice she's fond of.
But as you said, she's a warrior and I'm sure you can talk about a whole lot other things. You could fight her if you want? She might even enjoy the exercise. [ There's a pause as peter considers things, and then smiles a little. ] I think you'd enjoy fighting with her too, she never holds back. [ And man, it is hot. ]
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- action
Rhys wasn't using this shirt, anyway. Lucky that dude was a giant string bean, so his white shirt falls easily to the top of her legs, everything covered where it needs to be. Her belt tied around her waist to try and give her some shape ( sue her, she didn't care about impressing anyone, but she cared about looking her version of good ), but mostly so she could holster the knives and hammer off the leather loops. The diadem, in this case, is just wires and weeds, tied around to make a loose circlet. Hair out for once, bright orange and messy.
Waiting by Honir's Temple, fiddling with the buttons on the middle of the shirt, tapping her metal finger on one, that absent habit that made it impossible to stay still. Scuffing a boot, tugging the black stockings she'd put on underneath. Just odd, and not very tall, little in a way that doesn't match just how much she can and does run her mouth. If it weren't on closer inspection the medley of cuts and scrapes and bruises, bullet wounds and buzz axes and that sharp grin when she catches sight of him, lifting a hand to wave him over. "Hey buddy, sup, it's me!"
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He looks unusually happy when he sees Gaige, at least as far as Ivar's default expression went considering he usually looks like he wants to murder someone. While it wasn't quite the traditional garb for a sacrifice, she'd put forth the effort, and that's what mattered. He waves back and wheels over.
"Alright. We've got the chickens, knives, and bowls. That's about all we really need. Let's get this going, shall we?" This is gonna be fun, at least as far as the definition of the word meant in Ivar and Gaige's minds.
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Definitely fun, as far as she concerned, and most especially, it's something to do when she sees him. Bouncing over in long steps of someone short that is used to keeping up with much taller people. But when she comes closer she bops down on her feet, balancing her arms to draw even with the chicken coop in his lap, peering in at the chickens trapped within. "Awww, you're so cute. And dumb. Ready for your big day?" She wiggles her flesh and bone fingers into the cage, ruffling some of their feathers. Then tilts her face up to smile at Ivar.
But with it, she rises up onto her feet to stand straight again. Tugging the shirt down a little where it seemed to inevitably ride up whenever she moved. "I'm yours to command. Let's murder a chicken."
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Voice
I've managed to brew some spiced wine and cider for the solstice, if you'll join me. You can tell me how your writing's progressed.
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[He never has managed to get Cadfael's title right. At least now he uses the term with affection instead of as an insult.]
Where are you to be found?
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[He tells him where to find it.]
[Action]
Your royal majesty,
Happy Valentines Day! I don't know if you know what the holiday is, but please enjoy these chocolate chip cookies I made in any case!
With love,
Alice Liddell
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I know not of what this holiday is, but I think I shall enjoy it all the same if this is the end result.
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Video;
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