ragnarsson | Asgard Genesis Inbox

[Oh, he has ways to deal with nonstop talking. Granted, none of them are ways that Klaus will ever want to experience (aside from when he finally figures out his powers), but there you go.

Gods, but he is such a dweeb. At least it helps to balance out Ivar and his eternal psychotic edginess.]

Sure. [He flips the knife around with a smooth movement, holding it out in his palm to offer it to Klaus. Even while high, he's still able to show off the moves it's taken him a lifetime to master.]

[there could be one other way klaus wouldn't mind experiencing... but, uh, that's something to possibly be discovered later as well. (like, a great, big maybe.)

he can't help it, though. something about ivar is just. disarming in a way he's unable to put his finger on and without a proper way to describe it, he's left looking like a floundering fool. blessedly, the viking hands his knife over with very little effort. klaus accepts it, murmurs a small thanks while being certain he doesn't shift an awkward way and end up cutting either of them.

with ivar's blade settled across both palms, he gives it a brief once-over then shuts his eyes, the bracelets around his wrists glowing faintly as he pours all his concentration into moving the knife— and eventually, it begins levitating out of his hands.]

[Ivar watches. The display would be impressive even if he wasn't high as a kite, but it's even more so now. He just hopes Klaus doesn't drop it and end up stabbing himself in the leg. Not that he would care too much. The man can heal after all.]

That's great. I wish I knew what my powers were.

[He's tried quite a few times to figure things out, but with the near infinite possibilities of what they could be, it's a bit disheartening to think of every possibility only to have nothing happen. It also doesn't help he's been thinking more of the flashy displays people have been showing rather then something more low-key like his own powers are.]

[by some miracle, the knife doesn't end up in his leg. actually, once it has hovered a few long seconds, klaus lifts his right hand, pinches the blade between his fingers and offers it back to ivar, handle first.]

Are you for real? You haven't figured them out yet? Huh. [no facetiousness, just genuine curiosity. what is it he's done to figure out two powers where ivar hasn't even figured out one? so long as the knife is taken, his hand withdraws, reaches up and lightly taps his chin, a low, thoughtful hum reverberating around them.]

Strange, I sorta just thought about mine happening and it... happened.

[Ivar takes the knife back from Klaus. The subject has harshed his mellow just a little bit. It appears he's going to say something but then gets distracted by the shininess of the knife in his hand. He stares at the blade as if fascinated for a long moment before he slides it back into his vest. Finally he answers Klaus.]

Not in all the months I've been here. [This wasn't entirely a bad thing considering how dangerous and unstable Ivar was already even without powers. With them, who knew what could happen?]

Peter and I tried for some time, but nothing ever came of it. [Frankly, he's a bit sulky now. These two dodos had managed to figure their powers out, yet he's smarter then both of them put together and still hasn't. What is he doing wrong?]

[aw, damn, he didn't mean for that to happen. worrying at his bottom lip, klaus watches the younger man, tilts his head and raises his eyebrows while he does. the moment the knife is gone though, he's lowering his gaze to his lap where his hands are fidgeting with the flask he'd dropped there.]

I'm sorry, dude. Didn't mean to be a show-off when you haven't even figured your shit out.

[on any normal given day, he might reach out to hug the person he's with, but there's a gut-instinct telling him, ‘unless you wanna be stabbed, keep your hands to yourself,’ and he's fine taking its advice.] Hey, it... it's okay, you don't have to be upset. I mean, you can be, obviously? But it's not what I would suggest.

[Smart idea to listen to your instincts in this case, Klaus. Ivar craves human touch but he also doesn't know how to express that in an emotionally healthy manner. With how Ivar tends to act, it's easy to forget he's only nineteen, and prone to that FOMO sensation that a lot of teens get. He brushes off the sympathy with gruff words, hiding his real feelings behind his usual anger.]

And what would you suggest I feel then? It's not like I haven't already gone my entire life feeling left out of what everyone else is able to do already.

[which is unfortunate, because klaus's tactile as hell and would be able to offer casual physical contact with ease... if only ivar wouldn't stab him for even trying. doesn't keep his hands from continuously twitching in his lap anyway, itching with the urge to reach out.

an exasperated sigh slips free before it can be stopped, he shrugs and eventually reaches his left hand up, twists his fingers through his hair.] I... don't know? I've seen you throw knives, though. Doesn't seem like anything stopped you from learning that.

[It isn't often Ivar gives into self-pity. He already has gotten enough of it from other people to last a lifetime. But the combination of mushrooms, alcohol, and his own mind seem to have played a cruel trick on him. Right now he just wants to wallow in the fact that apparently the gods must've forgotten to give him powers.]

Knives are something tangible that I can feel in my hand and throw. Exactly what am I supposed to do to conjure up magical powers, hmmm? Do you have some experience being a sorcerer in what I am sure is your colorful past?

[They've never spoken much of their time before they had arrived in Asgard, but Ivar's sure anyone as odd as Klaus has led a life that was never dull.]

Perhaps I am merely defective as I've always been.

[while he would normally understand wanting a little time for some self-pity, at this moment, klaus feels an irritation bubbling up within him. somewhat toward ivar's assumptions about his past, but mostly because the poor boy just seems downtrodden and he doesn't know how else to help, aside from doing what he does best: using words to his advantage (or lack thereof? whichever works best in his favor at the time.)]

Actually, now that you mention it, I do have some. I wasn't... a sorcerer? Something different, it's— well, what I could do was pretty cool, too. Not to me, of course, b-but that's beside the point! The point is: you can figure this out. And you're not defective, Ivar. Your powers are just [pause] different.

[talking about himself was a bit disarming there momentarily, he thinks he handled it alright in spite of the circumstances. although, to be fair, ivar's assuming his lifestyle choices were anything but humdrum is quite correct. he drops the hand again, levels the viking with a stare that's almost too serious, especially for klaus.]

With so many supernatural abilities out there, there's no way you've thought of everything.

[Ivar scowls at Klaus' words, but he doesn't deny them either. There's a lot of sense in them and it's enough to snap Ivar partially out of the state of ennui that he's fallen into. He'll ask Klaus later what he meant by having some sort of power set, but for now, he's focused on himself.]

Whatever it is, it's nothing flashy and able to be seen easily like a lot of people have. Nothing really physical. I've already tried invoking those and nothing works.

[What Ivar keeps failing to take into account is the one major part of his personality: his need for control. Whether through charisma he so rarely shows or sheer brute force of will, he seeks to be able to manipulate everyone around him to some degree or another.]

[he holds steady at the frown, anticipating further anger in return, yet when nothing else happens, he's admittedly a bit surprised. letting ivar focus on himself is fine though, draws attention away from where he doesn't want it for once.]

Powers don't gotta be flashy. One of my brothers has super strength, another can manipulate the curvature of objects. Usually knives. [a brisk, dismissive wave of his hand.] Hell, one of my sisters? She can control people using her voice. How fucking wicked is that?

Man, [he sighs longingly, attempts a laugh, despite the lack of actual mirth,] just think outside the box a little? Don't worry about the physicality of it. Think about something specifically you that the gods might branch off of or something. Am I making any sense here? [seriously, he needs to know, because he's a lot more intoxicated than he'd thought earlier.]

Controlling people with her voice? I wish I could do that.

[Once again, he reminds himself that he has to ask Klaus at some point about his home. If he'd had powers before coming to this place and what they were. And also talk about his many varied siblings.

Still, Klaus' words have struck a spark in his mind. What did he have that the gods might amplify? They'd already ruled out something physical like conjuring fire or a familiar like Peter did. That left more subtle abilities. He's trying to think of what they could be, but Klaus is still jabbering on. So Ivar just says the first thing that comes to mind.]

Be quiet. [He says, finally sparking his power for the first time. He almost doesn't realize it until Klaus is mercifully quiet for such an extended period of time. Then he turns to look at him.]

What? I haven't cut out your tongue yet.

I'm glad I can't. I would've used that to my advantage way too much.

[ivar wants stories about his siblings? he's got a whole slew of them to share whenever the right moment comes. as it stands though, this doesn't seem to be the moment. perhaps it wasn't the best plan to start tossing ideas around while there's a chance he could become victim to the aforementioned powers.

good thing he'd gotten out whatever else he wanted to say before, since the moment he goes to snap at ivar for telling him to be quiet, nothing happens. his mouth opens, but klaus sits there, brow furrowed, looking utterly stupefied at having been silenced by someone else's abilities. initially, he reaches for his neck with an absurd amount of franticness (because what the fuck???), yet as soon as he notices the faint glow of ivar's bracelets, he second-guesses it, lowers his hand to reach for the viking's wrist instead.

the slightest jostle then he gestures toward the cuff with his other hand, motioning him to look before the gleam fades away. even if he doesn't see, he's gesturing toward himself afterward, waving at the front of his throat, still eerily silent through his motions. “see? i told you,” is what he's trying to convey. is it coming across? he has no clue, but he's trying so earnestly.]

[He watches as Klaus starts miming. Frankly, he's enjoying himself now. He's not sure what had worked but he was glad he did. He glances down when Klaus gently touches his wrist. There's a cry of surprise when he looks down at his faintly glowing bracelets.]

Oh!

[He honestly hadn't expected that attempt at magic to really work. Mostly he'd just been saying that because Klaus was annoying him enough that he really wanted to control him. He tries to think of another command, something simple that would give definitive proof that his power set apparently gave him the ability to control people.]

Raise your right hand.

[unable to help himself, klaus smiles broadly, releases ivar's wrist and tucks both arms across his chest, looking quite satisfied with this outcome. what sort of irony is it that they'd stumble upon ivar's powers after he'd suggested something else being at play here when it came to the teen's capabilities?

although he's gotta admit, being told what to do and immediately wanting to is just a bit weird. but it's fine, they can play this little game of ‘ivar says’ for however long.

even if he wanted to say anything, the words likely wouldn't come out right. so, rather than attempt it, his grin simply widens and he raises the hand with hello inked across the palm without hesitation.]

[Ivar's nature has done a complete 180 from melancholy to joyful. He's like a child with a new toy and the hypothesis that his power allows him to control people has made him happy in a way that he usually doesn't allow himself to feel.

Then the look on his face grows mischievous. Time to test just how far this power extended.]

Kiss me.

[He commands. At least he knows Klaus won't have too much hesitancy in wanting to fulfill that particular request.]

[and that's what klaus's pleased about, getting to see ivar's happiness with discovering his new powers. he doesn't imagine the problems stemming from it, the consequences of his actions usually go forgotten until the one particular moment where they come to bite him in the ass.

kinda like how ivar's just suggested he kiss him. hold the fuck up—] W-What? Uh...

[since there is hesitancy with the command, but not enough that he can resist it, much to his misfortune. blinking owlishly, he shifts in spite of himself, leans onto his hands and knees, works his way forward at an almost agonizingly slow pace. this is a bad idea, this is such a bad idea, yet he's planting his hands on the arms of ivar's wheelchair once close enough, bridging the remaining distance between them anyway and dropping a kiss against the corner of ivar's mouth.]

[Ivar feels a sense of triumph grow within him as Klaus kisses him. This power really did have a myriad of uses. He could think of all sorts of ways that he could now use it to benefit himself. Of course, that was his first thought, to use it for himself rather then anyone else.

As he pulls away, Klaus will see a certain amount of satisfaction on Ivar's face, even if he also kind of looks like a puppy dog. He always tends to get that way with close physical contact. A murderous puppy, of course, but a puppy dog nonetheless.]

You have my thanks once again for helping me to figure this out.

[funny, how klaus first used his power to heal himself and now that he's got a handle on it, other people benefit far more than he does. not like he'd want it any other way, because that means he's avoiding situations where he could get injured.

with what he'd been ordered to do completed, he leans back a little quicker than necessary, hesitates at the sight of ivar's pleased expression, eyebrows knitting confusedly. no one this bloodthirsty should look adorable, that's just way too unfair, too disarming. an owlish blink or two then he raises a hand, sets it onto the younger man's shoulder and squeezes, their foreheads gently bumping when he nods with affirmation.]

Don't mention it. [also, like, in the literal sense? because he just fucking kissed ivar of all people—] But you're welcome, nevertheless.

[Ivar is good at vacillating between being psychotic, wanting to stab people, and covered in blood while also being able to turn cute, needy, and vulnerable at the same time. Feeling one way didn't necessarily negate the other. He had many sides and made for a complicated teen a lot of the time.

For a moment, he looks like he might snap Klaus' hand off and feed it to him, but then the look in his eyes softens up when their foreheads touch. It reminds him of home, the way his father, mentor, and brothers showed affection to him. Vikings didn't go much for hugging, but the headbutt of love was very much a thing.]

Perhaps you are not nearly so foolish as I once thought.

[That's as close to a compliment as he's likely to come close to.]

[perhaps he isn't covered in blood and shouting at people to come at him, it's still extraordinarily rude that ivar was able to throw him off more than once. (and just think, they've got however long ahead of them to plan for, too.)

oh god, this is it. you made the mistake of touching him and now— then ivar goes off and says something nice about him. or at least something complimentary in the words of the teenage viking who has threatened him multiple times. that, coupled with the softer expression he's wearing now, klaus can't help a somewhat rueful smile.]

Damn, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.

[Ivar smirks. It truly is, for the Viking teen doesn't hand out compliments lightly, let alone to people he thinks are idiots.]

Well, don't get used to it. I'm sure you will do something to irritate me soon enough.

[Still, Klaus had been three-for-three during this entire time with the mushroom, jewelry, and helping him discover his powers. Maybe there's hope for him and his one brain cell yet!]

[through a playful buzz of his lips, klaus laughs and pulls away, using the leverage he's got from being propped on the wheelchair to push back.]

That's true. Irritating people must be one of my other superpowers, honestly.

[which is likely the best streak he's ever going to have with ivar, for real, so maybe he shouldn't ruin it right away? maybe. (it'll be harder when he's sharing the braincell later down the road.)] In a completely off-topic manner: wow, your eyes are really blue.

[Ivar actually smiles at the compliment.]

Thank you. I got them from my father. He had the ice-color to his.

[What a shame there's no such thing as photography among the Vikings, for the similarities between Ragnar's eyes and Ivar's are quite astounding.]

All but one of my brothers ended up with blue eyes. [It was a common color among Norsemen.] But it was the gods that marked the whites of my eyes.

[They're a faint tinge of blue as well, a sign of his brittle bone syndrome, not that Ivar even knows what causes his bones to break so easily has an official name.]

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