ragnarsson | Asgard Genesis Inbox

They don't travel well. All attempts to get them to grow in Norway have failed.

[Ivar's gotten to taste so many new foods since coming here and it has been glorious.

He taps the left one.]

It belonged to my father. He gave it to me just before he died. Arm rings are important to Vikings. You receive one when you're twelve years old as a symbol that you're now officially a man. [It may have seemed comical from a modern-day perspective to consider a boy that hadn't even gone through puberty as a full-fledged member of society, but lives were much shorter back then. Getting to your fifties was considered pretty old.] They're also used for oath-making. If you break a vow you swore on your arm ring, you'll be cursed by the gods.

[He perks up at the mention of jewelry.]

I would like that. [And if the mushroom kicks in when he's looking at something shiny, so much the better for it.]

Well, that's... unfortunate. Have you had any here?

[because maybe he's too curious for his own good while trying to keep the conversation going. they'll need it, considering the trek back to tyrhaus will be some minutes and klaus has never been good with silence.

except for when listening to something important. ivar gestures, he leans closers, seeking out any particular markings or other discernable intricacies on the jewelry, attention flickering back to the teenager's face afterward. when he stops to contemplate the time ivar comes from, it isn't unsurprising, but his eyebrows lift somewhat anyway.] Twelve seems like so long ago for me... but damn, that's some important shit right there. Nobody wants a god-curse, I'm sure.

[back home(???) it is, then. klaus makes a fluttering gesture with his fingers toward the direction they need to go and begins leading the way.]

Hopefully, it holds up alright. The hemp cord I got was a little flimsy. Made it work, though.

I don't know. What do they look like?

[Has Ivar been eating food without knowing what is or what it will taste like? You betcha. He'd never wanted for food during his life, being a prince, but he still knew about lean times during winters and when on long campaigns. Food was to be eaten when it was in front of you, not to have questions asked about it.

The older ring is made of twisted silver metal with the ends in the stylized shape of wolves. Ivar's < a href="https://i.pinimg.com/736x/98/45/c4/9845c46ed123529353282456c27b31f2.jpg">own is very much the same in style, only it's bronze in color and with the ends in the shape of dragons instead.]

And that's why I tend not to make oaths on them unless it's a very serious matter. [Ivar hates having to keep his word, for he's natural-borne backstabber and prefers lying to his allies.]

How old are you anyway? [Klaus seems to vacillate between being much older then Ivar and having all the impulse control of an eight year old, so he has trouble telling.

Ivar keeps up with Klaus at a good pace as he pushes his wheelchair, his arms already built up after a lifetime of using them to get around.]

I would not have taken you for a jewelry-maker.

...depends on the olives, honestly? Some are black, some are green. Some are this odd, reddish-purple shade. They're all oval-shaped, though. And salty.

[listen, klaus can't very well judge him for that when he himself is ingesting random plants with no idea of what they could do to him. not because he's hurting for food though, so that would make those circumstances different.

tempting as it is to reach out and touch, he resists, folding his hands in his pockets, just in case impulsiveness tries to get the better of him. wolves and dragons, huh? he'll remember that.] Better safe than sorry, I guess? [lying isn't something klaus's good at, but he's never been against twisting the truth a little, and sometimes, not even necessarily in his own favor.]

Old enough to know better, boss. [which sounds. so, so tired (and probably a little weird with the ‘boss’ joke). it's not a proper answer, unfortunately.] I'm twenty-nine.

[and a giant manchild, so ivar's assumption isn't entirely wrong.] I, uh, do a lot of stuff people wouldn't think of.

Perhaps I have had some. There has been so much food here. Everyone should be thankful for that.

[Instead of being a bunch of whiners and complainers which seems to happen quite frequently around here. Klaus gets a surprised stare from Ivar at the question of age. He'd pegged him for close to his brother Ubbe's age, who was twenty-two, but he's more comparable in age to his oldest brother Bjorn.]

How is one so old so consistently foolish at the same time? [Hey, it's a valid question even if he did just also call Klaus old in the same breath.]

Now that I can believe. [Klaus is weird and weird people do exceedingly odd things.] You know, you remind me a little of my mentor Floki. [Something about the body language in how he carried himself and his tendency for oddness.]

I'd hope they are. Sort of missing meat, but I can't lie, I love all the produce.

[yeah, in spite of his flippant attitude, he's supposed to be way more of an adult than he lets on. kinda his thing, after all, since he hasn't had to take on that responsibility for a long while.]

With great skill and dexterity, of course! [nobody can say he doesn't take shit in stride.]

Floki, huh? What was he mentoring you in? [odd, how he'd like to meet someone he hardly knows anything about, aside from a name. if they're similar at all, there's a chance they'd get along.] Probably something way more interesting than I could teach you.

So much fruit. We never had this much fruit ever at home. Limes, I have discovered, are delicious.

[Probably a weird thing to have as a favorite, not that Ivar would care. He's also become very partial to bananas.

Klaus' snappy comeback gets a snort of amusement from Ivar. They're almost back to Tyrhaus now and he finds it interesting this is the longest conversation he's had with Klaus that didn't leave him wanting to rip the other man's throat out.]

Life, essentially. My father, he left for ten years and wasn't there much even before that, so Floki was the closest thing I had to one all that time. He's very odd and has his own way of doing things. Very close to the gods, a healer and shipbuilder too. Wears a lot of kohl around his eyes. [Never let it be said the Vikings were restricted by gender stereotypes. Men and women alike both wore make-up and were interested in flowers. This is the most Ivar has really been open with about his childhood to just about anyone. He's spoke of his father and mother to only a few people, for it still hurt to think of them.]

Think they're delicious by themselves? You should try 'em with salt and tequila.

[just a little encouragement of underage drinking, it's fine! ivar's customs are different anyhow, so it isn't that big a deal. (funnily enough, klaus is partial to bananas himself.)

damn, that has to be an accomplishment, doesn't it? going longer than ten minutes and there haven't been any death threats or knives. at some point, he'd have to make a joke about ‘who are you and what have you done with the real ivar?’ but now's not the time. no reason to ruin the magic right away, not when he's hearing so much about the viking.

following a soft chuckle,] Well, we've got two of those things in common. [his palm with goodbye tattooed across it upturns, fingers wiggling slightly then he draws the hand up and motions toward some smudged eyeliner. maybe he doesn't have flowers at the moment, klaus would never turn them down if offered.] I'm trying to get on good terms with the gods here, though... and I could teach you some things, but nothing as helpful as that.

What is tequila?

[They'll need to get some here just so Ivar can try it. He's always been fond of ale. Don't worry, Klaus. He's been drinking since he was twelve, he's a veteran by now.

See, Ivar's fury doesn't last forever, at least against those who haven't wronged him in significant ways. His little spats of anger eventually wear out one way or other unless the person in question continues to keep pissing him off.]

I knew it. Give it some time and perhaps you will acquire wisdom too. Hmmm, you'll have to try the Norse style sometime on your eyes. He wears it likes this. [He motions to his eyes, tracing a thick line beneath his lash line, and then drawing a line down his cheeks, then a final one upturned at the corner of his eye reminiscent of winged eyeliner. He snorts at the mention of being taught.]

I shudder to think about what you could possibly teach me.

About two dollars a shot, hah! [he dismissively waves a tattooed hand.] No, but really, it's an alcohol distilled from an agave plant. Known to drop even the grownest of men on their asses. [not like everclear could, but.

with all the plant scavenging he's been doing, perhaps he'll get lucky and stumble across something similarish enough here in asgard, they could recreate tequila. then they'll get limes and salt and go to town on the shots.

and hopefully, he won't accidentally piss ivar off during that possible scenario or the psychedelic trip they're gonna be having today.]

I'm wiser than people give me credit for. Sometimes. [whatever sort of design ivar's making, he's intrigued, wondering if it looks more like some dramatic cat-eye or if it's full-on metalhead style. oh good, they've finally gotten back to the god house. klaus moves ahead a couple paces, guiding them the entire way to the dormitories then into the room where his bunk resides, unable to help smiling.]

Most of what I could teach you would make you shudder. [jesus christ, klaus, no.]

We will have to see about that if we get some here. It takes a lot to put me down for the count. [The advantages of learning to drink tankards of Norse ale from the time he was a pre-teen. Drinking was one of their favorite past-times apart from waging war on everyone in sight.]

I have yet to see that, but perhaps your continued existence proves it already. [An insult and a compliment wrapped up together in the same sentence. One can't accuse Ivar of not being clever with words when he wants to be. He's definitely warming up to Klaus. Give it a little more time and he might even show him how to do that make-up look.

Ivar just shoots him a look that says 'Seriously?' when Klaus makes the reference.] I don't think I've had nearly enough to drink for that to start being an option. [That and Klaus is hardly his type. The last time Ivar had been attracted to a man it had been a tough, badass warrior priest with a body count almost as high as Ivar's himself.]

Yeah... we'll see. Know what? I like your enthusiasm, though. [there's a mostly full bottle of devil's vodka tucked away in the cubby-hole at his bunk. sharing wouldn't be the worst thing since he's been sipping it sparingly. (kind of helps a bit when he's been getting twacked out on magical plants lately, instead.)

you know what? klaus will take the backhanded compliment at this point if it's the best he's going to get from ivar. it's still something and that counts.] I'm resilient if anything, it's true. [and perhaps their banter is helping him relax— or maybe that's the mushroom? why not both? both is always good.]

Me, either. [he's being truthful, at least, and while he may not be tough or badass, his body count is pretty damn up there in numbers. having made it to his bed, he pushes the curtains aside, clambers onto the mattress and moves to the foot-end, positioning himself just right so he can push the hidden panel out while laying on his stomach, reach in to start rummaging about.] Hope you don't mind green. Would've used blue, but I didn't have 'em. Neither did any natives.

[It looks like Klaus has finally found the way to get past the prickly exterior Ivar presents. He just needs to get him high, drunk, or distract him with something he gets curious about. Maybe all three at once.]

I can see that. Otherwise you would've already been long since dead. [Ivar comes from a time where making it out of childhood was a feat unto itself, so the fact Klaus can at first be mistaken for a fully-functioning adult is a tribute to being able to withstand quite a bit.]

Let me see, let me see. [He makes a 'Gimme' motion with his hands, looking quite intrigued about jewelry now. Much like a child, Ivar is easily distracted by pretty things and little baubles given to him. It actually was a way some people got him to behave. Just give him a present and prevent him from getting enraged.]

[seriously, if klaus finds the equivalent of a cactus or a porcupine on asgard, ivar's getting one. both should that be a possibility, alongside a ridiculous joke about being a prick or something because haha, isn't he clever?

he snickers in response to the comment, rolling his eyes and pulling himself closer, hand digging still. after a moment longer of shuffling about, his fingers catch the twisted cords, hook it tight then pull the jewelry out, thumb pressing against the beads. he has to admit, hearing the excitement in ivar's voice and watching him make grabby hands is pretty goddamn adorable.]

Alright, yeesh, [although his tone's completely fond as he hands the bracelet over, withdraws the hand and props his cheek in the palm once ivar takes it. the barest smile upticks his lips then he asks,] Is it really worth getting that excited over? [because he doesn't think so, but... well, if ivar appreciates the sentiment.]

[Really, a porcupine would make a fine mascot for Ivar. Prickly quills on top and a soft underbelly. That described the Viking teen quite nicely.]

Quiet, you. I will choose when, where, and what I get excited over. [Ivar truly can be a bit of a child sometimes, though it also stems from a culture where everything requires effort to make, so anything is to be savored for the effort it took. He looks the bracelet over with a critical eye. It's nice work, though perhaps not quite as fancy as the ones back home are made by jewel-smiths. He ties it off around his wrist and admires the way it looks for a moment before looking back up at Klaus. He says in a decidedly decisive tone:] This is mine now.

[After a moment of examining the bracelet further, he adds on:] Thank you. [That's probably the first time Ivar has thanked anyone for anything in the entire time he's been in Asgard, minus the time Peter built him his wheelchair.]

[guess someone's getting a weird pet for christmas... if they don't accidentally miss it with the lack of a calendar, anyway?]

Yessir, [klaus mutters, rolling his eyes, although he can't help letting his smile widen. seeing someone enjoy an item he's given them just warms the cockles, especially when it's ivar of all people. their tumultuous relationship has always kinda been up in the air; with this little bauble and an extending of the metaphorical olive branch (or laying down of arms as ivar had said better), perhaps they've got the chance to put everything else behind them. he raises his eyebrows with astonishment once the teenager secures it around his arm, blinking slowly, deliberately, after ivar's claimed the jewelry for his own.

how silly, it makes klaus's heart flutter all excitedly.] Sure, it's no problem. [but that sounds wrong, doesn't sound good enough, so—] You're welcome.

[Christmas? Pft, don't be such a Christian, Klaus. He can get him one for Yule instead, the holiday full of feasting, mushrooms, and a sacrifice. Vikings are the original hipsters, having a badass holiday that revolved around giving presents and a big bearded man long before the Catholics revamped it.

Klaus has come to realize the contradictory nature of Ivar. He can be full of a burning rage that can scorch a countryside wide in his anger and yet at the same time go to leaps and bounds to make the people who show kindness to him happy. His unpredictable nature does have some actual sense to it once someone starts getting to know him.

He examines the bracelet again. It's looking fascinating now, the green colors all pretty and fuzzy around the edges... He feels good, all relaxed and warm inside. It's not just the It appears the mushrooms are starting to kick in. He settles back in his wheelchair, slumping down into the various blankets and pillows he's used to cushion the chair with.]

I think those mushrooms are working.

[okay, fine, whatever holiday it is ivar celebrates, he'll get something. funnily enough, klaus's able to provide two of those things, but if ivar wants something (or someone) to sacrifice, he'll have to search elsewhere— and quite honestly, he's agnostic, so what does that make christmas for him? maybe he should celebrate yule instead? hmmm.

in spite of the unpredictability (he hasn't forgotten ivar stabbed him), he can't help feeling as if ivar's had a rough fucking go at things. frankly, who better to understand that than a hargreeves? their whole family is messed up, like a trainwreck you just can't look away from.

he props onto his elbows, tilts his head and blinks once, twice.] Good thing, yeah? Seems like it is, [murmured through a chuckle. his own mushroom has him feeling tingly in the fingertips, fuzzy at the corners of his mind, a little muddled.]

Let's hope it's a decent trip.

[See, all Klaus needed to do all along to get Ivar to warm up to him was get him high! In all honesty, now that he's not trying to plot Klaus' murder all the time, they'll have a chance to see just how really similar they are. Centuries apart, but some things like the way people deal with their families never changes.

Ivar goes unusually quiet for a bit after the mushrooms start to affect him. He stares at his hands for a bit as if contemplating everything that makes them up: bones, muscles, blood vessels, tendons. Fascinating stuff really.

Then he seems to snap back to a form of attention. He feels like he needs to do something with his hands, so he pulls out and just sort of keeps flipping one of his knives around. It might look a little alarming, but Ivar actually has no intentions (for once) of throwing it at Klaus. It's just something to keep busy.]

[which is hilarious, considering klaus usually isn't handing out narcotics like they're halloween candy, but he hadn't hesitated when it came to offering some to ivar if it meant protecting his pride. the embarrassment at ivar's possible making fun of him had been completely unnecessary, and yet, he doesn't quite regret telling him about the mushroom. now, they'll be high as kites and the viking likes his bracelet.

hell, if it hadn't gotten so quiet all of a sudden, he might've laughed at the thought. klaus's attention darts from ivar's face to his hands, eyebrows raising curiously after he realizes he's staring— and not because his intention is trying to figure out the parts of them.

...well then, the abrupt appearance of a knife could've been why. he retrieves the flask, strips off his coat, takes a long pull from the container, his eyes still on the knife while he upturns his unoccupied hand, speaks around the metal lip,] Wanna see something cool?

[Honestly, Ivar would be preening a bit were he to realize Klaus was staring at him for any reason. He’s so used to people seeing him as anything but an object of attraction that he’ll take any attention whether that’s good or bad. Besides, for all his bluster earlier, there was something oddly charming he found about the junkie.

It takes him a moment to realize he’s been spoken to. When it hits him, he snaps his pair of too-blue eyes towards Klaus, the knife finally coming to a momentary halt.]

Yes! [Ivar sounds very eager when he asks. Do a trick, pony!]

[ivar, please, the last thing you want is to be on the receiving end of klaus's ‘charm,’ because it's not nearly as delightful once one is dealing with his nonstop talking. ~~just ask rhys!~~

whenever those vivid eyes are on him again, the older wanderer blinks, slow and deliberate, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. had his heart really leaped that high? he isn't sure, but despite his efforts to not stammer, his words still fumble a little anyhow.] O-Okay, uhm. [a beat, just long enough for him to motion toward the knife ivar's holding.]

May I use that real quick? [also, don't call him that out loud, for the love of god.]

[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.]

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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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