Catch-all post!

[ragnarsson]

who: Ivar and others
what: Monthly log catch-all post
when: Starting about Dec. 10th and continuing throughout the month
where: All over the Quarantine
warnings: Graphic description of broken bones, sparring violence



Prompts below! Anyone who wants anything specific can PM me or contact me at Light_shade

Comments

Breaking Bones

[ragnarsson]

A. It's a flesh wound (Closed to Marco)

This had been bound to happen eventually. Ivar had come to accept it as a fact of his life that every so often he'd break one of his legs. Or, if he was very unlucky, both of them at the same time. They were just too brittle to stay whole for too long. Each time, it was painful, with the healing process being as slow as could be. There wasn't a whole lot of health care in the 800s.

Nine months he'd been in Riverview and that was quite a long time to go without any sort of injury to his legs beyond some bruising. Then it happened. It couldn't be while he was fighting monsters or anything spectacular as all that. No, it had to be when he was getting out of the bathtub. Ivar was using the air inflatable bath lift he'd had installed to help him get in and out. He was perched on the edge of the bathtub and had slid into a warm bathrobe after drying off. He was sliding off, the way he always did, and just put his foot the tiniest bit wrong...

...then he heard the SNAP! There was a jolt of pain so intense for a moment he thought he was going to pass out. But Ivar was made of tougher stuff than that. He just ended up collapsed on the floor, a scream of intense agony that he realized was coming from him. Looking down at his right leg, he could see the tibia bone snapped clear through, the bone partially sticking up under the skin where it should have been going straight down instead. Feeling dizzy, he put out a hand to steady himself on the nearby wall. What was he going to do now?

Then this giant thing burst in. It looked vaguely human, but the size was all wrong. It resembled the tales he'd been told of golems. Oh, what a time to be injured, weak, and without his weapons. His clothes, and subsequently anything he had on him, were all the way over there on the other side of the floor, right by this black, furry thing. He just stared for a few moments before he finally yelled out at the top of his lungs. "MONSTER!"

B. The world's worst patient (OTA)

Ivar was not going to the hospital. He'd made that very clear. Perhaps the pain was making him irrational because there was no way he could continue to go one with a leg snapped clear all the way through. But that's exactly what Ivar was trying to do. He was just going to keep going and everything would be all right. Yep.

It was clear that something was going to have to be done. He looked more grey than any normal person should have been, and anytime his leg so much as twitched, he looked like he was going to pass out. Someone was going to have to save him from himself.

C. A Viking trying to heal (OTA)

Of course, after the world's most stubborn Viking had been convinced to let himself get some proper treatment, he was still not in the best of moods. From an outsider's perspective, he just appeared to be sulky and surly, not much different than normal. To those who knew him better, it was clear that Ivar was depressed.

It was one thing to know that there were things he couldn't overcome no matter what he did. It was another to have them slapped right in his face. Ivar hated being reminded that he had limitations. For him, there never was something he couldn't overcome. Except for his legs.

He'd been avoiding most people for a week now, taking some time off work, and basically moping around the mansion, spending most of his time with Winter. Any attempts to get in contact with him were going to be fruitless. The only way he was going to see anyone was if they actually came and dragged his ass out of bed where he was currently lying, watching a variety of movies. He was a very miserable Viking, even if he'd rather die than say it.

B) I hope this is okay?!

[mysophobic]

[ Shigeru has seen many injuries in his life, despite only being 28, he's probably seen some rather gruesome things that normal doctors would never handle or expect. So when he comes across Ivar looking that way it's...really not surprising that he rushes over with a worried look on his face. ]

What are you doing with an injury like that?!

[ Says the robotic voice from his phone. He remembers Ivar saying he couldn't read so he hopes this makes it easier for him. ]

You need to be treated right away.

It's perfect!

[ragnarsson]

[After much convincing, Ivar had finally been talked into seeing someone to help. Of course, the doctor he would end up seeing is Shigeru. He's putting up a brave front and hiding the pain well. After all, he's in constant pain every day of his life. What's a few more stabbing bits of agony going to hurt?]

I'm fine. [Now that's a bald-faced lie. Ivar's skin color has gone a curious mixture of grey and green. Even if it weren't for the obvious break, it would be clear he's in a lot of trouble.] Besides, I've had worse before. [That was true enough. Ivar has broken both his legs before, and in a time before real medical care or anesthesia, trying to set them was one of the worst experiences of his life.]

[mysophobic]

[ Shigeru may be naive but he doesn't believe that for even a second. He huffs, showing a look of displeasure and mild annoyance. Ivar please just let him heal you?! ]

That's not the point. You're extremely hurt and if not treated properly this could lead to a bigger infection that might even kill you.

So please let me help.

c

[jelmazmo]

Really, this visit would benefit from Drogon's presence. The sight of him has in her experience motivated grown men to do as she will; no matter his size. Viserion is gentler, friendlier; more curious. He rides about on her shoulder as his brother once had, needier now that he is here and the others are not. Keen bronze eyes peer with some fascination down at Ivar, but Dany looks decidedly less than impressed, her expression deadpan.

"I don't know what what happened, or why it did. But you're hardly going to inspire anyone like this. What of your dream?"

The words are sharp, purposeful; meant to hit home. There's some concern there, but a wariness which remains rightly in place of someone who'd subjugate strangers simply to thrive off their fear. Dany reaches into a bag tied at her belt, and brings forth a piece of raw meat. Tossing it up, she watches in silence as her dragon sears it in midair with his fire, and then catches it with a snap of his jaws. He might be more like his brother than she'd thought after all.

After a moment she adds in a milder tone: "Get up." Truly, only Jon might speak in glowing terms of her bedside manner.

[ragnarsson]

When Dany arrives, Ivar is still sulking, licking his wounds. Shigeru can heal the physical break, but his depressed state has no cure. To be reminded of his inadequacies, that he had limitations no matter how hard he tried, it was something that weighed heavily on Ivar. He watches the dragon with less than his usual intense interest. Then she starts in.

Her words stab into him as though they have little hooks, ripping away at his skin.

He glares at her as she finishes. Ivar curses at her, not in the tongue they're both speaking, but in the guttural, growling language of Old Norse. Finally, when he runs out of energy, not that difficult considering he's still in such pain, he glares at her. "You don't know anything about it."

[jelmazmo]

She waits him out, and ends up looking thoroughly unimpressed by the end of his tirade. Viserys was often similar; though he'd most often take his frustration out on her physically rather than limit himself to mere words. Dany doesn't need to understand the language he's using to know that what's coming out of his mouth is in all likelihood thoroughly nasty. Folding her arms across her chest, she watches while her dragon puffs up at her shoulder, baring his teeth.

Really, she's not angry; and the dragon is merely asserting himself, being protective. But until she speaks up, her closed-off expression may make it difficult to tell.

"To be respected and feared. I was born in exile, and returned to claim Westeros for myself after many years away. Do you think I did not want my people to respect me? I did, and I do. In Essos, I am both loved and feared for what I have done. I may understand more than you think."

And she, only a girl. Of no consequence to Viserys while he'd lived aside from one thing. Now, she raises an eyebrow.

"Losing sight of that now would be like losing part of yourself."

a.

[brightline]

[Marco is a paranoid person by nature. He always has been, even before the war he'd had that kind of tendency. So he's pretty much always low-key on alert, and this day is no different. When he hears that scream from the general vicinity of Ivar's bathroom, he's on the move almost immediately.

It takes him about two minutes to get up to Ivar's room and by the time he's pulling the door open he's already most of the way into his gorilla morph - Big Jim is second nature now, he can change into a gorilla almost without thinking. It's his battle morph, his most comfortable morph besides the osprey, and it provides strength, durability, to fight whatever might be hurting Ivar.

But when the door opens, he doesn't see Ivar under attack, doesn't see that jerk Dodger guy he's heard about with a knife, he just sees Ivar on the floor, naked and wet and yelling 'Monster!' at him.]

<Hey. Calm down, it's me, Marco. This is a morph. Gorilla. I just...I thought you were under attack and needed some backup. You okay?>

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar just stares for a moment and he wonders if he's going into a state of shock. Then Marco reassures him that it's just him in another animal shape. Ivar wonders what other strange beasts he can change into because this one is truly bizarre. There's something uncanny about a gorilla to someone whose never seen one before. It looks just human enough to seem familiar, but dissimilar enough to seem like a horrible monster.

He takes in a deep breath, propped up on his arms.]

Yes, I'm fine. I just slipped, that's all. [Ivar's usually better at lying, but when he's in pain, that's all he can focus on. The words are too tight and clipped to be the truth. The heart of the matter is shown when he glances down to his broken leg. It can clearly be seen, the usual straight line of bone under the skin ruptured like the fault line that causes an earthquake.]

[brightline]

<Sure, if you just slipped but you're perfectly fine then I'm wearing a tutu and delicate ballet slippers. And in case that went over your head, I'm totally not.>

[Marco shakes his gorilla head in a very human gesture, then crouches down beside Ivar, squinting a bit as he looks down at the leg. It's pretty damn obvious that it's broken, the line of his shin is busted straight down the middle, and Marco huffs out a breath. Another very human bit of body language.]

<Okay, you seriously need to go to a hospital for this, man. At least in gorilla morph I can just pick you up and get you to your chair. Last thing you need is to be dragging that around.>

Sparring

[ragnarsson]

Poke them with the sharp end (Open to those he's teaching to spar + anyone who wants to learn)

Now that Ivar actually had a crop of people he was teaching, he'd had to make up a schedule on when he was seeing them. Fortunately, there wasn't enough to make it overwhelming for him to keep track. He'd arrive early at the training center so that he could put out a variety of weapons. Contrary to what his commercial might have lead people to believe, Ivar was talented in a number of weapons besides just knives and axes. He figured it wouldn't hurt any to get people using more than one as well.

Once someone arrived, he'd look them over with a critical eye as if he was silently saying, 'I've seen worse.'. While it mainly looked like he was judging them, he was really looking for which weapon he thought would suit them best. Once he had decided which was going to work out best, he'd select it from those he'd lined up.

"Alright, let's get started."

[relieable]

Osomatsu had had a rough start when he first came to the quarantine, but he was in a much better mood now. He was working, making friends, and he was going to move into a house with his brothers. Things couldn't be better for him!

So when he showed up for training with Ivar, he looked cheerful, like his normal self. He still did not know why he'd signed up for self-defense, it just seemed like the right thing to do in this place. He might not take things very far, but he'd at least try it out for a while, because he was interested.

"Yo! I'm ready!"

[ragnarsson]

"Alright. Let's start with the basics. This is a knife." He held one out to Osomatsu, putting it into his hand, and gently maneuvering it around until he was holding it to Ivar's satisfaction. "Now, before you ever use it on someone, it's best to get in the proper mindset. You never want to pull one out unless you have an intent to hurt or kill someone. Treat your weapons without respect and the next thing you know you've cut the tip off your ring finger."

He pulled out his own knife, mirroring the way the one Osomatsu was holding. "This is called the forward grip. It's a good, quick way to stab someone, with a bit more finesse than other ways. You aim for a vulnerable area like so--" Ivar drew his arm back and stabbed out towards Osomatsu's left kidney, stopping a hairsbreadth away from shredding his clothing. "--and make a clean cut."

[relieable]

Osomatsu flinched when Ivar came near him with the knife. Hey, he knew what a knife was, at least! But he didn't know how to hold it properly, until now. He mimicked the movement without getting close to Ivar, but practiced the swiping motion.

"What other vulnerable areas are there?"

[somnioergosum]

Ronan had mostly recovered from the night horror attack, physically at least. He was still nursing the emotional wounds, along with his grudges.

When Ivar assessed him, Ronan folded his arms over his chest. He looked back at him and all his face betrayed with a desire to get this all over with. He didn't care what Ivar had to say. That was what he tried to project, at least. In reality, interacting with his viking friend had gotten a hundred times more complicated.

Once Ivar was done, he remained in place for a few moments longer. "Doing what exactly?"

[ragnarsson]

Frankly, Ivar didn't care how Ronan looked. He wasn't letting his friend leave this place without at least being able to stab something in a proper fashion. That's what this whole training session was all about.

"Getting you able to properly defend yourself." Ivar picked up a curious weapon off the table. It was longer than a dagger or knife, but shorter than a sword. "This is a dirk. They don't have them back in my time, but I've found they have their uses here. It's better than a simple knife, but still able to be easily carried around, and can still counteract a sword."

He passed it over to Ronan, pulling out his own sword. "Try coming at me with it."

[somnioergosum]

Ronan took the dirk. He had no real idea how to hold it-- his father had only taught him about boxing and guns-- so he went with what felt right. To bad for him, nothing did.

He didn't know what he'd been hoping for but it wasn't some pathetic cross between a dagger and a sword. Looking from his weapon to Ivar's far more substantial one, he could feel what little interest he had dying.

"Seriously? Are you afraid I'm gonna cut up your pretty little face if you give me something bigger?" It wasn't an actual question, since he knew that the only answer was some variation of 'no, you idiot.' But this was just plain insulting.

C

[talentedscavenger]

Rey had heard that Ivar had been injured. She was worried for her friend, but didn't know how her presence would be able to help any. The idea of sending him a text, or even calling didn't feel right to her. He needed to rest, he needed to recover and bombarding him with messages wouldn't do. She didn't know exactly what happened, but thought a week since the incident, she could go visit. At first, she was going to check the hospital, but thought better. Who would want to stay there?

She grabbed her bag and the two gifts she had. She had learned that the season involved gift giving...and it had taken some time to figure out, but she found something for Ivar and his daughter. Now it was a matter of going to Ivar to check up on him...and knowing he lived in a damn mansion helped.

Rey managed to get to the mansion and went inside. It didn't take her long to find Ivar's room and softly knock on the door.

"Hey," she greeted softly, stepping into his room a little. "So...I know you won the fight, but who was your opponent?" She hadn't been told how exactly Ivar had injured himself, but figured it was in a fight...or at the very least, try to get a smile out of him.

[ragnarsson]

Ivar was, to put it bluntly, moping. It wasn't often he liked to delve into self-pity. If he felt sorry for himself every time he was in pain or got reminded of his condition, he'd do nothing but spend all day doing that. But this had been a sharp reminder that no matter how much he tried, he still had limitations.

He was sitting in his room and mindlessly flipping through the TV channels when Rey came in. Seeing a friendly face was definitely what he needed right now, though her words made him sink down a little bit further into the mattress. Though his words were filled with his usual sarcasm, they lacked the normal bite he possessed. "I'll ask the bathtub next time I see it."

That's right. He'd broken his leg getting out of the bath. Oh, the humiliation.

[talentedscavenger]

Rey knitted her eyebrows together at Ivar's response. The sarcasm held no bite. There wasn't a cocky smirk on his face. He really had hurt himself, and she wouldn't try to make light of it. She didn't know if she would push him into anger or sadness. It hurt to see him like this, not his usual, confident self.

"Sorry, I...shouldn't have said that," she whispered, moving closer to his bed.

"May I?" she asked, hoping she could sit next to him. When he gave her permission, she sat with one leg tucked under her. Rey didn't think less of him in his injury. It wasn't his fault his body was the way it was. A change of topic was sorely needed.

"I heard this is the time of year where people exchange gifts...and I got you something, and something for your daughter. I hope that's okay." She didn't exactly know how gift giving was supposed to be done, or if he would accept a gift for his daughter. Or if he thought it was weird that she got his child something.

[ragnarsson]

Ivar was slumped down pretty far against the headboard of his bed. Really, any further, and he'd just be plainly lying down. His whole mood seemed to be a bit defeatist, but really, who could blame him? Being in pain and full of sadness wasn't doing him any favors.

He did perk up a little when Rey mentioned presents. Ivar had a bit of a childish streak to him. He enjoyed things like getting gifts from people because it meant they were paying attention to him. From the time he was a child, one of Ivar's greatest frustrations was the fact people aside from his mother and Floki tended to ignore and forget about him. The poor, weak, little runt, the one that should never have survived, let's just pretend he doesn't exist. It was one of the reasons Ivar tended to annoy people as a teen. Even if they were annoyed, at least that meant they were paying attention.

A little bit of light came back into his all-too-expressive eyes. "Gifts? For me and Winter? Did you bring them with you?"

sometime when ivar's leg isn't broken;

[thisisamazing]

Hiccup only texts Ivar once to make sure he's at home one morning, and not busy. It's a nice clear day, if cold, a layer of snow and frost glittering over the ground, but vikings have never minded the low temperatures much. The wind has died down nicely from earlier in the morning, and it seems like the perfect day to give his friend his Snoggletog/Yule present.

Hiccup and Toothless touch down on the front lawn, and he swings out of the saddle, rubbing the dragon between his ears before he heads up to the door and knocks. "Ivar! Make sure you dress warm, we're going out today." He's got something wrapped in burlap under his arm, and he seems a little excited, cheeks flushed from the cold and smile wide.

[ragnarsson]

Ivar's just gotten Winter nice and settled in for one of the usual babysitters he has watch over his daughter when he can't be around. After playing with one of her favorite toys, the two-headed teddy bear, she's ready for a nap. He hands her off as soon as the woman arrives and goes down the elevator to meet Hiccup at the front door.

Hiccup had been surprisingly reticent on what they were doing today. He grabs a warm fur cape he got during Prijata earlier during the year and fastens it around his neck. Perfect thing to bundle up in during a winter day. "So what've you got planned?"

[thisisamazing]

Hiccup smiles wide and thrusts the package at him - inside the burlap is what looks to be a leather torso harness of some sort, with an iron ring like the ones on Hiccup's armor, meant to hook a tether. The design is pretty similar to the one he used to wear when he first started flying Toothless, but it's a bit more refined, more sturdy. "Put this on. We're going flying today! I know you saw that memory of mine, but it's nothing compared to the real thing."

Toothless lets out a pleased little roar from where he sits on the lawn, tail swishing and eyes bright.

[ragnarsson]

"Flying? Really?" There's a little squeak of excitement to his voice. He knew Hiccup had been working on a design so that two people could fly on Toothless, but he hadn't known just when he was going to finish it.

He looks ready to go, but there was just a touch of apprehension on his face. He's none too fond of when his feet leave the ground when he's on a boat and he wonders if this is similar. "There's no way of falling off, right?" That seemed like an incredibly messy way to die.