Second Ax [@the.boneless, video]

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar's improving on using the video function. This time, he gets it on the first try. His voice is just a little above a whisper and he's looking off to the side at something just beyond the camera. The background shows he's in the forest beyond the city.]

Does anyone know where I can find a fire-proof bridle?

[The question seems a bit of a non-sequitur until he turns the camera to the side. There's a Ponyta standing not too far off. Ivar's been trying to get it closer all afternoon. It's taken a lot of patience, but now it's only about ten feet away. Its diamond-shaped eyes narrow as it watches the Viking and the Pokemon tosses its head, too suspicious to come any closer.]

Come on. I won't hurt you. Just a little further. Come on.

[For someone who usually keeps everyone at arm's length with a combination of sarcasm and toughness, he sounds far more gentle than usual. It seems to be working, as the Ponyta takes a hesitant step forward, ears pricked forward in anticipation. Ivar's face is a combination of wonder and awe. He's about ten seconds away from completely freaking out. This creature looks like something from an old legend, a horse with a mane and tail of fire. This qualifies as the coolest thing he's seen since he came to the city.]

Comments

[ragnarsson]

The same look my mother gave me when I headbutted my brother so hard during a sparring match that I broke his nose.

[That combination of exasperation and woe that parental figures were so good at.]

I know what I'm doing. [No he doesn't, but A for effort.] So stop worrying.

[anotheroldsoldier]

I don't know if it's really that kind of look... [It is. It's the same look the Major used to give him when he'd sneak out and get into fights.]

Who said I'm worrying?

[ragnarsson]

It is. You look like you want to give me a lecture on doing something impulsive and stupid.

[He grins at Bucky.]

I say so. Stop being a mother hen. This will turn out fine. And if it doesn't, only then can you say I told you so.

[anotheroldsoldier]

Well, if you're so sure about that, I'm sure you can give yourself the lecture on doing something impulsive and stupid. [Look, Ivar said it, not him.]

You have low standards for mother-henning.

[ragnarsson]

I would, but I'm too smart to let this turn bad.

[He's always thinking three moves ahead, just like in a game of chess. If he can figure out people, an animal shouldn't be that hard.]

I have low standards for parent figures in general.

[His own had been more than flawed, but he'd loved them regardless.]

[anotheroldsoldier]

Okay. [It's that tone a parent uses on their child when their child says 'I'm going to touch the hot stove, it won't burn me.' That see-what-happens, tone.]

Family issues back home?

[ragnarsson]

Well, my mother smothered me because I couldn't walk and my father left one day without a word and only came back ten years later. It was a hell of a combination.

[He says this all in a very matter of fact tone. And suddenly many of the issues Ivar has makes much more sense.]

[anotheroldsoldier]

Sorry I asked. [He means that genuinely, because it doesn't sound like it's very pleasant to talk about. Then again, maybe he doesn't mind, it's hard to tell. Doesn't hurt to err on the side of not being a total prying asshole, though.]

[ragnarsson]

My family's complicated. [And really, really strange, especially once one starts dissecting how the love life of everyone in his family tree pretty much is a circle instead of lines, but he won't get into that right now. He's done enough talking as it is.] That's life.

[anotheroldsoldier]

It sounds like. [He agrees mildly with that statement but he doesn't pry any further.]