thespherelogs | Paint it on, cover every inch

Entry tags:

Paint it on, cover every inch

Who: Ivar, Rhys, Dodger, and others
What: Ivar gets a move on some personal projects
Where: A and B: one of the nature domes. All over the place for the others
When: Over the course of the week
Warnings: Body horror with morphing, mention of human sacrifice

A) Penance

Ivar's been quite subdued ever since talking to his sister. She'd put the fear of the gods into him and with good reason. Though he doesn't feel bad about the actions he took in sacrificing the woman he masqueraded as Lagertha, he now is afraid he's been cursed by the gods.

So he's in one of the nature domes, having selected a rock just a little bit smaller then a boulder in size. He's got a pick and a hammer, so anyone who happens upon him will find him deep in concentration as he carves Norse runes out onto the stone. Occasionally, he stops what he's doing, takes a step back, and looks over his work with a critical eye before he resumes again. Any offers of help will be sternly rebuffed. This is his task and his alone.

B) Practice

Other times, he can be found off in the treeline, having strung up a few targets all over the place. It's been a while since he practiced his skills and Ivar's hardly one to let himself get rusty. It had taken a very long time to get as good as he was and he'd just as soon die as let those skills wither away and die.

He's got his axes and knives out. With unerring aim, he throws them one at a time at the targets, hitting the middle nearly every time. When he hears someone coming up near him, he pauses for a moment before turning, and throwing the weapon right at the person walking towards him. Don't worry, he never actually hits anyone, but it's close enough to graze someone's skin. Just don't flinch or it might take off more then that.

C) Pierced

Shortly after the fight with Jack, there would be a rather conspicuous sight dragging itself to Dorm Dome 1. There was a large alien, reminiscent of a lion, bull, and hyena, but bigger then all three animals put together bleeding all over the place and limping badly as it made its way into the dome. Due to a combination of claws and hooves, it made a curious sound as it went along. Click-click-clop. Click-click-clop. Ivar had won the battle, but he'd hardly escaped unscathed. He'd been burned, stung, shot at, whacked with a wrench, and he wasn't sure what else with what had been up the sleeves of that prime annoyance's sweater.

When he was almost to the beds, his strength finally gave out, and he sank down, lying on his haunches. He needed to demorph before he passed out. Much as he liked this form, he wasn't fond enough of it to want to be stuck in it permanently, and he needed to heal from all these injuries. Before he did that, he was just going to lie here for a minute or two. Anyone who came upon him was going to see the badly-injured alien lying there, panting slowly while it got blood all over the floor.

D) Plod Away - For Rhys

After his fight with Jack, Ivar's leg braces had been snapped into so many pieces that there was no hope of ever repairing them. R.I.P. He was quite mad about that, but killing Jack had been worth the loss of mobility. He was back to using his wheelchair full time. Fortunately, there seemed to be someone here tech-savvy enough to create a new pair for him.

So he went off to talk to Rhys. When he found him in one of the domes, he didn't bother with any greeting or small talk. "You said you could make me a pair of braces. I hope for your sake that you are confident in your skills." With no people skills and an ominous sounding oblique threat in there, it was going to be a small wonder if Rhys decided to actually help him.

E) Puppy - For Dodger

This version of Dodger was different then the one Ivar had known. Just how much he wasn't yet sure of. He was starting over at the beginning with this idiot and wasn't that a galling thought? He'd have to spend a whole other year training him back to Ivar's standards. Such a waste.

But there was one thing that Ivar was sure hadn't changed about the man. If he didn't still like dogs, then he'd clearly changed for the absolute worse and Ivar would have to write that off entirely. The mutant's fondness for man's best friends was one of his only redeeming qualities. So Ivar morphed into his husky form and trotted off, following the scent of the man until he'd tracked him down in one of the domes. He doesn't approach him right away, instead letting the dog instincts follow interesting smells until it brought him close to the man.

Gods, but that chemical smell of the drugs coming off Dodger was awful. It was like breathing in the scent of something slowly dying. When he finally seems to notice Dodger, he goes up to him with a wagging tail and happy smile on his furry face, the epitome of a friendly dog that didn't have a human mind with devious thoughts inside. He fully expected a warm welcome.

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Ivar is still pretty prickly with Angel, but yet...there's something sweet and kind about her, something he doesn't see very often. She reminds him a bit of a doe, some graceful creature he'd see out in the woods. Much as he'd do upon seeing such a deer in the woods, he does his best to tamper down his anger around Angel to keep from frightening her.

He explains as he continues to chip away bits of stone. "There is a balance to things in the world. I sacrificed a woman who was unwilling and the gods took offense." The 'happy' memory that had been so recently on the network. "By making sure she is properly remembered and then offering a blood sacrifice, it will hopefully appease them, and allow the curse they put on me to be lifted. They prefer actions being done to just simple thoughts about doing better."

She crouched down and wrapped her arms around her knees as she peered at Ivar's work. He didn't frighten her, not exactly, but he was the kind of person that she struggled to understand. Why did he do the things he did? What was he thinking and how did it make him feel?

He was unlike anyone she's ever met.

"I understand balance." Except that there was no way to balance killing someone wrongfully. Death wasn't so easy to correct. "But why would a blood sacrifice appease over a wrong killing? Wouldn't that just add to it?"

Wouldn't the opposite of death be life?

Ivar's come over the past couple of years to understand mindsets of people from more modern times of Earth a little bit more. He'll forever be confused by it and consider his own culture to be far superior, but he no longer disdains explaining with impatience and irritability.

"My gods are not soft ones. They don't set much store by the ideas of compassion or empathy. If you want to appease them, they expect death, destruction, violence, and blood in order to be satisfied." This explained so very much about Ivar's own mindset if that's what his gods expected out of their worshipers.

Those sounded like terrible gods.

"So they don't technically want balance. You're just offering something to please them." The balance to death wasn't more death. It didn't matter at what angle you approached it, adding more of something only made it less balanced. "Okay. I think I understand." It wasn't something she believed but she could understand.

"Um... I don't think I want to know but what are you sacrificing?"

Terrible to some and full of greatness to others, that was the Norse gods in a nutshell. Their own people were very devoted to them, but others saw the gods as horrible pagan things that should be stamped out. "It will make things right and that is all that matters to me." He will do what is necessary.

"Normally, I'd take an animal, a goat or bull, and sacrifice that. Since there appears to be none here, it will be my own blood I shed." It sounded extreme, but at least Ivar was quite cognizant of how much he could lose before it became dangerous. He'd give enough to make a good sacrifice, but not so much that he'd be in danger.

What he says makes perfect sense to her. It's odd really. She'd never thought she'd understand Ivar but he was like so many people she's known in the past. He wasn't a bad person, not entirely, this was just what he believed in.

"Would it help if you offered some of my blood too? I don't mind giving it to you, as long as you don't take it all." It was her natural instinct to want to help and since he truly seemed to want to repent and to go as far as hurting himself... it made her want to help him.

He thinks on her offer for a moment. Will the Norse gods be offended if given the blood of an angel? Well, she's not a Christian angel, so he doesn't think they will mind. "If you want to, I won't say no."

He chips out another letter before going on. "But why do you want to help? These aren't your gods." Most often people seem purely to follow what they believe in and give no other room in their minds for any other religions people might follow.

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't sure." She looked up at him, a light smiling pulling across her lips.

"Oh. That's because it's important to you." Her head tilted to the side as she gently tugged at the hem of her skirt. "It doesn't matter what it is. You are seeking forgiveness and this is important to you and I want to help you find what you're looking for."

She didn't know if she was explaining herself very well but she was trying. "Maybe this will help me understand you and what it is you believe."

"Good luck on that. It takes most people I know a good solid year just to start figuring me out." That's not conceit, that's the gods-honest truth. He thinks back on the people he knew in Riverview. Thor, Dodger, Bucky, Loki, Osomatsu, Yuri, Ronan, Letha. Most of them had only known part of what made the whole and even that was only grudgingly given after a good solid year of getting to know him, putting up with his many mercurial moods and temper tantrums, and then peeling back the layers enough to see what lay beneath.

Ivar was a complex and strange person, but he was nothing if not memorable.

"Are you always this kind to people?" He's never understood how such an emotion comes so natural to some people. It never has with him. Whatever was nice and sweet and good inside Ivar was burnt out a long time ago from a lifetime of being seen as the poor weak runt that should've been left in the woods to die. It was a sentiment even one of his own brothers liked to throw in his face.

"Thank you." She was looking forward to it, even if it took time.

"I wasn't always." She shifted slightly and settled so that she was sitting a little more comfortably on the ground. "Being nice is... difficult. It's a lot harder to be nice than it is to be mean and hold onto anger and grudges. You get hurt that way but I want to be strong enough to handle that pain and trust those around me." Her voice remained soft, sweet and kind as she spoke. "It'd be so easy to close in on myself. To think that humans are nothing more than how they appear, short lived and blind, but I want to choose the more difficult path."

Being mean, cruel and emotional was the easy path and it never made anyone feel any better anyway.

He listens carefully to Angel. He's never met someone who struggles with their own nature to be good and kind rather then giving into their other emotions. It's something of a relief to know that no one is as pure as they initially appear on the surface.

She hits home with her words of being mean and holding onto grudges. "I used to wish the same. That I could be compassionate towards people. Not anymore."

Kindness had gotten him nowhere in life. All that he had taken had been through holding onto his fury and using wielding that as a weapon. His father Ragnar had told him that his anger was a gift so that he needed to use it. Combine that with the natural streaks of brutality and cruelty running through him had created a virtual monster, the kind of man who burned people alive when they spoke out against him.

"It's hard, isn't it?" Her voice was compassionate and kind. "I know. Carrying about people means being vulnerable and it's not something everyone can do. Though, I am a little sad I didn't know you back then." She wondered what he would have been like while actively trying to be good.

She paused, watching him and then asked. "Are you alright Ivar?"

She seemed to understand a bit about his mindset. Ivar didn't like to care about people for it was a weakness he couldn't afford. Bad enough to have family he loved. Friends were just another millstone around his neck. He shrugged at the question. "That was a long time ago." Back when he was a child who still thought that the world wouldn't be cruel to him, that he wouldn't have to fight tooth and nail to carve out his place in it.

He turned to her when she asked if he was alright. It was like he'd just realized how much he'd been telling her. Whatever vulnerability had been in his eyes had hardened back into ice. "I'm fine," he snapped out.

She didn't shrink away but her gaze dropped to the runes that he'd been etching into the stone. It was only then that she realized she could recognize the characters he was using. It was an older alphabet, one that she'd been taught a long time ago.

"I apologize." She'd never stop worrying about him though. "I won't ask again. Unless you're injured. I can... my magic lets me heal, should you need it."

"Save your magics unless you have a way to heal my legs so I'm no longer a cripple. I have my own way of healing." The morphing ability came in handy for a lot more then just shapeshifting. He sounds rather gruff as he talks.

The name is complete, so now comes the arduous task of writing out the tale of why she had been sacrificed. Granted, he'd have to fudge a few details so that the gods wouldn't still disapprove, but they liked a good story almost as much as they liked their worshipers to fight for them.

She glanced down at his leg. "I'd have to look at your leg to know if I can heal it." She's face wounds that she couldn't heal before but that had been the heart. There is no magic that can help repair such a delicate part of the body but limbs were rarely an issue... then again, she has not done anything like this before so it might not work.

She sat back as he worked, trying to recall the specifics of her limited magical training.

Ivar glances down at his legs in a self-conscious manner when she says that. There's a good reason he wears pants all the time, for he hates the sight of what his legs look like. Poor weak withered things, no muscles, just gaunt bones stretched out over taut skin.

He's been kneeling this whole time on his knees, using the rock as a support to keep him upright, but now he shifts around so he can sit down for a moment. He needs a break to keep his bones from aching so much. "You'll have to get to know me much better before we get to that point."

"Is that so?" Her voice was soft and kind as she watched him move. "Or is it that you want to know me?" It was difficult for her to read Ivar but she got the impression that he didn't want people to know anything about him. Which meant that he simply didn't trust her because he knew nothing about her. They were related but the reasons felt like they were separated by a thin barrier.

"I don't mind learning about you first." She liked to help people, at whatever the cost. It was just how she was.

"Or if you'd like to know about me."

"I'm already learning much about you. I read people very well." Though Ivar was astoundingly blind to figuring how most people worked, he was good at getting inside other people's heads, whether that was on the battlefield or off of it. It had always been one of his greatest strengths. He looked at Angel very hard for a moment as if he was gazing at her thoughts right that very moment.

"If I end up liking you, then you'll get to know more about me." That's usually how it went. Ivar liked to keep people exactly as far back as he wanted them to, only allowing them beneath the surface to find out what made him tick when he wanted them to.

"Oh? That's a very useful skill." She was not very good at reading people but she was learning.

It was a process.

"I will wait until then." Her mouth settled in a soft kind smile as she sat and watched Ivar work. She didn't want to be in the way but she was determined to remain until the end and produced the blood she had offered him. She wasn't the kind of person to go back on her word. "I just... I'm not sure what to think about you."

"Most people make it very clear what they think about me from the moment they first meet me." Ivar's tone is full of bitterness when he says this. So many people considered him just a weak and pathetic cripple growing up that he's had trouble shaking this mindset off, even after being in two different worlds for the past three years.

He considers how he's going to carve out the rest of the message onto the boulder while he continues to give his legs a rest. "Your attitude is a refreshing one." He much prefers kindness as opposed to any cruelty, even if he knows little about what to do with the sentiment.

Her lips formed into a sweet smile. "I'm glad." It was a strange but easy conversation for her. She wasn't ever sure where she stood with people but with Ivar it all felt simple. She could say what came to mind and she trusted Ivar to do the same. He wasn't a nice person exactly but he wasn't a cruel one either. He followed what he knew and acted on his experiences. If he's truly been shown such little kindness in his life, then it wasn't all that surprising that he was reluctant to be kind in return.

Everyone can only act upon what they know and how they feel. She'd never ask for more or less than that though there would always be a part of her that wanted to understand.

"I take it that you don't get along with most people?" So far, there had only been one thing about Ivar that made her uncertain and that was the memory that brought them to carving messages and names into rocks.

His legs were still aching, but that was nothing new. Ivar's legs were always in some state of pain. He got back on his knees so that he could continue carving. There's just the sound of stone being chipped away for a moment before Angel asked her question. "What ever gave you that idea?" He said with sarcastic bite in his voice.

He went on to explain. "People so often show their true colors early on. It used to disappoint me. Now I simply expect it." That was the problem with being able to read people well: he saw their flaws as well as their good qualities.

"That was sarcasm!" She clapped her palms together while a bright smile encompassed her features. Jason had been teaching her about sarcasm though she was still trying to identify it in day-to-day conversation. "Oh. Sorry. I'm supposed to reply by..." Her voice trailed off, her eyebrows furrowed and she looked very focused.

After a short pause, she tried to roll her eyes which ended up in three jerky motions of her eyes moving left, up and then to the right.

"I think that's right." She was still learning. "But I do understand. I'm not very good at reading people or guessing what they're thinking. I always assume the best in people and more often than not that backfires in some way." It hasn't stopped her but she realizes that the odds aren't in her favor.

Ivar can't help by smile a little at Angel's attempt at rolling her eyes. Alright, that was pretty amusing. She's such an innocent little soul. It reminds him of Athelstan in a strange way. He misses the priest a lot, for he had been one of the few truly kind people Ivar had ever known in his life.

Ivar nods as he continues his work. "I suggest keeping on that way." It was better then ending up cynical and bitter like him.

Paint it on, cover every inch

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