[VIDEO]; @fatima

[dust_of_life]

[Fatima's life dictates that she has to carefully manage and regulate her appearance. It's a bit of a neurosis, really. She's had to dedicate much of the last few years to proving that she's every bit as capable and mature as a bunch of vampires who have seen more than a few centuries. The mortal girl is not going to sit at the kiddie table, thank you very much. Which means not looking like a kiddie.

She wears a lot of make up. Like, a lot. It's well done and attractive, certainly. But noticeably an inch thick. Her hair is pulled back in a braid today, draping over her left shoulder. But what really completes the "I'm not a child" look is the attitude. It's her carefully schooled expression, just the right amount of jaded blase, as if to say "I've seen too much to ever be wide-eyed again."

It's her first network post. She figures first impressions matter. Although this is not how she imagined greeting the network.]

Hey, Fatima Merali here.

[She's got a thick, West Coast accent. She even says her name in a disgustingly Americanized way.]

Los Angeles, 2009, for any of you keeping track of that kind of thing.

Listen. Has anyone seen or heard from Ray Palmer lately? It's like he just vanished.

Comments

[ragnarsson]

It still has to follow some rules. Or there would be nothing but absolute chaos.

Do people do that often where you're from? Just appear suddenly in a room?

[dust_of_life]

...more often than you'd think.

[She sighs.]

I'm not sure we've really established the rules yet. I mean, why us? What makes us desirable for this place?

[ragnarsson]

You know, that would have surprised me about a month ago.

[After meeting a lot of strange folks here, Ivar's tolerance for strange shit has gone up.]

Maybe we're better-suited to this place than others. I doubt most of my people would have adapted as well to this place as I did.

[Ivar's a bit smarter than the average Viking warrior and is well aware of this fact.]

[dust_of_life]

[Headtilt.]

What do you mean when you say "my people?"

[ragnarsson]

Vikings. I've yet to meet any others from my home that got pulled here.

[He's a little sad about that fact. Having someone from home would've been a comfort.]

[dust_of_life]

Vikings?

[Somehow, she's guessing he doesn't mean the Minnesota kind.

This is suddenly a lot more interesting...]

Really?

[ragnarsson]

Yes, really.

[He's half-expecting her to ask if he wears a horned helmet. He's gotten that a few times from people here.]

[dust_of_life]

[Fortunately, Tima's enough of a student of history to know better, with regards to the horns...]

Where are you from?

[ragnarsson]

Kattegat. It's in Norway.

[A small settlement that had grown into a mighty trading port.]

[dust_of_life]

Huh.

[And she can't help it. She needs to whip out the Prose Edda...]

"King Gylfe ruled the lands that are now called Svithjod. Of him it is said that he gave to a wayfaring woman, as a reward for the entertainment she had afforded him by her story-telling, a plow-land in his realm, as large as four oxen could plow it in a day and a night."

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar is suitably impressed and pleased with the recitation.]

You know the stories. That's a first here.

[dust_of_life]

It was kind of a required reading, back home.

[She may be preening just a little bit. Fatima's a good person, of course. But she has a great weakness when it comes to the opportunity to show off.

It's a problem.]

I'd love to ask about a million questions, sometime. You're definitely my first Viking.

[ragnarsson]

Ask away. We've got nothing but time here, after all.

[He's grown used to the reactions from people when he says he's a Viking. Somewhere between interest and amazement. He rather likes it.]

[dust_of_life]

Oh, where would I even begin?

[She knows, of course. Because her life literally revolves around Cainites and their bad behavior. It always leads back to them and to the stories about their origins.

It's the Gangrel who were rumored to be connected to the Vikings. Honestly, they're one of the more in-offensive clans of vampire. There's a lot to admire about them, between their self-sufficiency and their tendency to not, you know, murder busloads of cheerleaders.]

Hunting.

[It's as good a place to start as any.]

What's it like in your home?

[ragnarsson]

It's not done as much as you think. We mostly farm our meat. But when it done, the usually game is deer or squirrels.

[It was small game, but Vikings loved the fur to line their clothes with. So there was a lot of squirrel-based stews in Kattegat.]

I don't do much of it myself. [It required a lot of effort to be able to keep up with deer running through the brush. That didn't mean he hadn't occasionally found a moment to put an arrow through a deer's eye. It just required doing things a little differently.]

[dust_of_life]

[Animals. That's probably for the best. There aren't a lot of Gangrel who turn into squirrels.

As far as she knows, anyway.

Fatima nods, fascinated nevertheless.]

It's not a required activity?

[ragnarsson]

Only for the small farmers. But I was a prince.

[Ivar was aware of just how lucky he'd been growing up. He'd never known hunger, always had a roof over his head, and his family didn't treat him too awful. Well, most of the time.]

[dust_of_life]

A prince?

[Now there's a word that has a double meaning to Fatima.]

Should I be calling you by a title?

[ragnarsson]

My father was King of Denmark.

[Ragnar had risen from being a humble farmer to becoming the most famous Viking of the age. Ivar could only hope to surpass him.]

No. I lost the title when his first wife usurped my mother to become Queen. You only keep your title as long as someone doesn't overthrow you.

[In Viking culture, you kept what you killed.]

[dust_of_life]

[She's dealing with Hamlet. If only Auntie Diana were here right now. She'd just get such a kick out of it.

Whereas Arty would have a total history boner.]

I see.

[No condolences. There's nothing worse than pity.]

So what would you like me to call you then?

[ragnarsson]

[He's grateful to hear no condescending pity in her tone. Ivar hates that worse than anything.]

Just Ivar. Or Ivar the Boneless.

[The name that the legends and history books alike would remember him by.]

[dust_of_life]

Ivar.

The Boneless?

[She's heard of Viking names have little epitaphs like that. But she has to admit, this isn't one she would expect.]

[ragnarsson]

I didn't pick it. My father gave it to me.

[A name given in a moment of despair over his son being unable to walk. It had stuck.]

[dust_of_life]

Oh.

[That makes sense. As much of any of this. Maybe he earned it somehow? That's an ancient tradition.]

Mind if I ask why?

[ragnarsson]

Because I'm a cripple.

[He'd thought his son would never amount to much and that his quality of life would be awful. One of the few things Ragnar had ever been wrong about.]