First Ax [@the.boneless, video]

[ragnarsson]

[It's clear whoever is using this device is unused to it. The picture shifts around for a few minutes, and Ivar's face furrowed in concentration is seen several times before he finally realizes that it's on. He's sixteen, has blue eyes, and oddly enough, blue sclera as well. There's also an ax tucked at his side. He points the phone he's using outward, showing that he's in the kitchen, seated on a chair. His voice, when he speaks, has a vaguely European accent.] I have figured out what these do.

[He shows in turn the fridge, the sink, and the stove. The last one had caused a few burnt fingers, but hey, he'll survive.] But I still have no idea what this does. [He turns the device to the microwave. He's been playing around with the buttons, and while he's been able to turn it on, he hasn't yet realized food is supposed to go inside of it.] Anyone care to enlighten me?

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[ragnarsson]

[He leaned forward in anticipation. Oh, this promised to be good. A god himself telling him stories. His brothers would have never believed this.]

Tell me about Tyr.

[His favorite god. Of course he'd go for the one that had a disability like he did.]

[ikols]

He's a general and no friend of mine. We've kept our distance over the ages.

[ No grand tales of Tyr from Loki, unfortunately. ]

[ragnarsson]

Tell me then about Asgard. I'm sure you've got a few stories there the poets never recorded.

[Don't disappoint him now. He wants a good tale.]

[ikols]

A few years ago it was rebuilt on the soil of Midgard. Ah, it floated above it a little, in truth, but sometimes men would visit and climb the ladders that the gods threw down. Then they would feast together.

[ Wild times in Broxton. ]

When it was destroyed, it was rebuilt again but this time back amongst the stars where it belonged, and those who had befriended mortals felt their loss keenly. I remained on Midgard, at length.

[ragnarsson]

[Stories are the stuff of life for Vikings. It's how their entire culture has been passed down. Ivar is no exception. His mother would tell him tales as a child to get him to sleep when the pain in his legs was too great. Floki had told him all about the gods, teaching him of their most famous deeds. But this is something new, a story nobody back home even knows.]

Why did it keep having to be rebuilt? Who destroyed it?

[ikols]

Men of Midgard. Stark was there, at the very least we can say he tried to help a little despite his innate idiocy. I hated him back then, was very different in those days. [ He sends Ivar a wink, the sound of the story far more fantastical than the reality of living it and exploding into a million pieces. ] I was an old man.

[ His hand leaves his chin, black nails rapping on the table where his gaze falls thoughtfully. ]

Sometimes, I still think I am.

[ragnarsson]

[Indeed, the story does sound interesting, far more than the reality of it would have. He wonders at the details that Loki is leaving out.]

Well, you are really old.

[Never let it be said Ivar sugarcoated things.]

[ikols]

[ Snorting, he points at Ivar. ]

You're very rude. Odin would sit on your head and turn it into flatbread! Splat! He's not even that big but he'd do it.

[ragnarsson]

I'm not rude. I'm honest!

[Like there's a difference between the two of them when he's a smart-mouthed teenager.]

What're you going to do, trickster? Turn me into a dog?

[ikols]

I turned Thor into a frog once, so you better show me some respect!

[ Sniffing snootily for show, he sticks his nose in the air and pulls a face. ]

At least ten offerings a day! No, twelve!

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar snorts. There's a reason Vikings liked Asgardians so much. They were just as flawed as the human beings that worshipped them.]

You'll be lucky if you get so much as a goat from me.

[Where he was even going to find livestock in such an urban setting was a better question.]

[ikols]

[ Pretending to sigh sadly, he perks up moments later. ]

Ah, well! I'm more of a bacon man, myself. You've had that, haven't you? It's pig, but excellent.

[ragnarsson]

Of course I've had bacon. Do I look like a poor farmer? My family could afford pigs to eat.

[He likes this easy banter with Loki. It reminds him of conversations with his brothers, sarcasm and quick wit tending to be the order of the day among the five of them. Ivar misses them more than he wants to admit.]

[ikols]

I have to check these things, they're important. Breakfast meats are practically sacrifices at dawn! With ketchup.

[ Gesturing because!! They're so good. (Someone is a little fond of a specific meal of the day.) ]

What about bacon pancakes?

[ragnarsson]

What's ketchup?

[Loki will have to introduce Ivar to the wonders of the modern world of cuisine. He's in a perpetual state of hunger being a teenager.]

Never had them. They sound both excessive and delicious.

[ikols]

I'll make some right now.

[ And he'll show off for Ivar in the process; waving his hands, the fridge swings open and everything he needs to make pancakes with floats over to the worktop surrounded in green light. It dies down when the items settle. ]

Ketchup ... mmm, we'll save that for tomorrow when we'll have a lesson on delicious condiments. For now, syrup will do just fine.

[ Heading over to turn on the oven, more food soars his way via telekinesis. Time to chop the bacon up as a pan melts that butter! ]

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar watches the whole process with wide eyes and there's a look of religious adoration at getting to experience it firsthand on his face. He's heard of magic in many stories, but he's never seen it in person before. With three magic users all on the same floor, he's going to have to get used to it.]

Are you doing this because you're hungry or because you want to show off?

[ikols]

A little bit of both, honestly. Feel special, I don't cook for just anyone.

[ A snap of his fingers and two eggs break into a bowl, whisking themselves unassisted. He does take joy in frying the bacon himself, however, keeping up his conversation with Ivar. ]

Why did you want to know about Tyr?

[ragnarsson]

I'm honored.

[Just because the words are sarcastic doesn't mean there's not some genuine feeling behind them. How many people can say they've had a god cook for them?]

My favorite story as a child was the one where Fenrir bit off his hand. My mother used to tell it to me when I couldn't sleep because the pain in my legs was too great.

[ikols]

Ah. [ Thought it might be the Hand Thing. Not mentioning that he's the reason Tyr lost it. ] You were born without the use of your legs, then? I'd imagined, as mean as you are, you were in a fight.

[ Tough cookie Ivar. ]

And admittedly, that the other person would have been left far worse off.

[ As in, dead. ]

[ragnarsson]

Yes. Many assume I must have lost use of them in battle, but I was never so lucky. I just had the misfortune of being born a cripple. That's where my nickname came from. Doesn't make for as good a story, but there you go.

[He does take note of Loki's assumptions in his fighting abilities. The god would be right. There's a reason the rest of the Ragnarssons are scared of him.]

Trust me, anyone who's ever assumed I was an easy target is now buried in their grave feeding the worms.

[ikols]

I don't doubt it, and I do trust you.

[ He'd like to give Ivar the chance to be trusted, at least. A number of Asgardians are violent and they were never clever at all, the Viking has something over them. ]

We should spar sometime. I won't use my swords, they're far too dangerous, but we'll find something suitable.

[ragnarsson]

I brought a few weapons with me. And there's some others at a training hall nearby. I can wield just about anything. My brothers and I always took time out to spar with each other. I made sure that I was as good as they were, even without my legs.

[He's had to work hard as he can to get where he is. He's actually a more accurate shot with arrows and axes than his brothers. The smell of the bacon frying up is delicious and a reminder to Ivar of just how hungry he is.]

[ikols]

[ The pancake batter sizzles as it hits the pan, a sprinkle of bacon bits added. Loki glances over. ]

You sound like me. 'If Thor can do it, I'll get it done twice as well!' Which is your favourite weapon to wield?

[ragnarsson]

Some things don't change whether you're a god or a human. Being the youngest of five means I had to learn how to keep up early or get left behind. [His brothers had learned early on that Ivar wasn't going to allow them to ignore him just because he couldn't walk. He was determined to tag along and do everything they did.]

The ax, since it's good for both close combat and for throwing. Nothing as satisfying as seeing someone go down stone cold dead with an ax in their chest. [This is where Ivar's instability is most present. He's got a bloodlust that even other Vikings can't match.]