The Yule Log

[ragnarsson]

who: The Norse and everyone else in the city!
what: The Norse celebrate Yule. Gods help everyone.
when: December 22nd, Winter Solstice
where: Somewhere outside
warnings: Alcohol, drugs, animal sacrifice, blood play, rough foreplay, sex. Will update if necessary.



The Yule celebration has gotten underway on the Winter Solstice and it promises to be a most interesting night. The Norse have gone all out with this affair to make sure it's going to be a success. First thing to be spotted is a bonfire, so big that you might want to be careful not to trip around it, because you'll fall right in. There's plenty of room for dancing too, if you feel like grooving to a beat that's a little more unusual than most.

The Yule celebration shares a lot of similarities with Christmas, so it's a good time for gift giving. There's little shoes on a table, mimicking the tradition where Odin would leave presents for good children by putting them in their shoes. Claim one as your own and maybe a friend will leave a gift inside one for you. Watch it though. Any grinches will be fed to the Yule Cat.

There's a table set up to the right of the bonfire with food, mostly of the hearty kind that the Norse seem to prefer, and of course, lots of alcohol. Please remember not to get into any drinking contests with the gods. They will observe no responsibility for what happens afterward.

There are also mushrooms for consumption, provided by everyone's favorite psychotic Viking, Ivar The Boneless. These ones are directly from his home world, which means they come with a variety of side effects. They have the ability to make a person hallucinate quite a bit. But they can also make people much more horny than usual. Lastly, there's the effect that hits some people in making them extremely violent. Sometimes one effect hits, sometimes more than one. In any case, anyone who consumes some is assured to have an...interesting time.

On a lighter note, there's mistletoe scattered around, hung from the trees and tent beams. Fun fact: the Vikings were the first one to use it for the tradition of kissing. Of course, they also believed it was a plant that was powerful enough to kill a god, so the kissing was ostensibly for protection.

At the height of the night, there will be an animal sacrifice done. A goat is slaughtered and the blood from it is gathered into a couple of bowls. If you'd really like to go all out like a Viking, paint your face in the still-warm blood, or drink a little bit of it. Otherwise, enjoy freshly seared chunks of goat as it bastes over the bonfire.

Have fun, drink, fight, and remember to make your ancestors proud!

Comments

[ragnarsson]

Yes, it is. [A small frown creases Ivar's face.] But how did you know that? You don't speak like a Norsewoman.

[In fact, she sounds a lot more like an Englishwoman than anything else. That didn't mean a whole lot though. Slaves were brought from all over the world to serve the Vikings. Heck, they'd even had a Chinese girl as one when he'd been a boy.]

[burntbridges]

I'm a witch. Or so the Norsemen say.

[That was a clever cover, and his question means that he definitely isn't recognizing her. Thus she can employ her new identity for the time being.]

I know many things, about many people. They come to me in dreams. I was born in Norwich - that's in Mercia - but the raiders captured me and brought me to Kattegat, then to Varberg. They made me a free woman when they saw what sort of talents I had.

[She pauses to take a drink, swirling the wine in her cup before turning her attention back to him.]

You can call me Cinna.

[ragnarsson]

A witch?

[Ivar saw no falsehoods in her words. It was the story of many a slave girl and the scars on her hands proved the story well enough. As for being freed, well, Vikings were naturally superstitious lot. Those that had powers were both respected and feared. Ivar was rather pleased that there was someone from his home world who had come through. There seemed to be quite a number of them recently.]

Can you see the future then? Did you see yourself coming here?

[burntbridges]

Not exactly. I can see what is, what was and a little of what will be. I know your name is Ivar, and that you are the son of Ragnar Lothbrok. I know you've been missing someone dear to you. And I know you have a daughter. Where is she tonight?

[It takes some effort to keep her voice unattached. But that was the point of becoming Cinna - to know how Winter was, to know she was safe, without putting herself in danger.]

[ragnarsson]

[He listens to her words and much of his good humor disappears. Ivar doesn't care for a perfect stranger to have as much knowledge about him as she does. He shuts down, that flinty outer shell hardening up around him, instead of answering the question.]

You know much. Perhaps too much. You know what they say. A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing.

[burntbridges]

[Hmm... it seems she made a mistake. She takes a pause, sipping her wine and glancing around at the rest of the celebrations.]

I'm a creature of peace, Mr. Ragnarsson. If I wasn't someone could easily overpower me. You have nothing to fear from me.

[ragnarsson]

I should hope not.

[Ivar wonders if she has other magic besides knowledge of what was and what is to be. He goes back to drinking for several minutes, mulling over her words. When he finally turns to her again, his voice has become a little less frosty.]

Why do you wear that veil?

[burntbridges]

It helps the air of mystery. [She reaches up to play with the sheer fabric, smiling politely under it.] In truth, I'm afraid to show my face. I'm not sure others would appreciate it.

[That much is honest; she really isn't sure how he'll react once he realizes she's back. It's nice for now to be near him without the extra baggage.]

[ragnarsson]

Hmph. [He thinks on that for a moment and then some of Ivar's usual bluntness rises to the surface.] Did your former masters disfigure you?

[It wasn't really that common a punishment, because a slave girl only had so much value as far as physical work went, and no one would take one that had lost her looks. But Vikings were a cruel, brutal people, so it did sometimes happen.]

[burntbridges]

Not quite. [She pauses for a moment, deciding exactly what to tell him.] Any marks I've suffered were in part due to a former lover. But mostly my own doing.

[That's a good enough half-truth for now. Though it brings the worry that Ivar might see through her, and she pauses to nervously sip at her wine.]

If it's all the same, I'd rather not talk for long about my appearance. It's unbecoming.

[ragnarsson]

As you wish.

[He drops the subject, assuming that she must have some horrible scars or burn marks under the veil. But his curiosity has been peaked. He feels there's something familiar about this woman, as if they'd met before. Ivar knows he would have remembered meeting someone wrapped up like this before, so he pushes the idea to the back of his mind to work over.

While he thinks on it, he starts in on a new subject.]

I would have loved to have brought my daughter Winter to this, but considering how these nights tend to go, it wouldn't be very safe for her. Maybe next year when she's a bit older.

[burntbridges]

[Right, Winter... with her nerves she'd nearly slipped her mind. As far as Letha can fathom, she should be a little under a year old now. But she's also noticed that she seems to have spent more time in Varberg than she did away from Riverview.]

How old is your daughter now? [She keeps her tone as conversational as she can manage, though it comes off as a bit apprehensive.] It hardly seems like a celebration for children.

[ragnarsson]

Four months. Would you like to see a picture of her?

[Taking five thousand pictures of his adorable baby is the sole reason Ivar learned how to work the camera function on his phone. Without waiting for a yes or no answer, he flips through to one of his more inspired outfits for her and holds out the phone for Cinna to see.

Winter's definitely gotten bigger and there's a lot more stark white hair on her pale head. She's actually looking at the camera in this one, a happy little gummy smile on her face.]

[burntbridges]

[She was about to mutter something to the effect of "that won't be necessary" when he pulls out his phone and shows her the child - her child, her baby, dressed up in the cutest little outfit. Oh, it makes her heart ache. If only she could dye that hideous hair black, and if only those eyes weren't so pale and pink... she'd be perfect. Letha's heart aches in a way that's so much stronger than the aches she's felt for ten months now. She's been apart from her child for far too long.]

She's... she's lovely.

[Her voice falters, and for a moment it sounds very much more like her normal voice. Under the veil her face is flushed, and her stomach is tied in a knot from the gush of emotion she's trying so hard to hold back.]

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar's feeling very proud of his perfect little girl. She's so smart and has started to babble nonsense words. It won't be long now before she can say her first word. Ivar can't help but show her off to everyone he meets. He loves her the way he's never loved anyone else.

Then with a start he hears a familiar voice, one he's heard in his dreams and nightmares both. No. It couldn't be. She was far away in Norway and never coming back. But could it...? There's a storm of emotions rising in those blue eyes of his as he turns to look her where he thinks her eyes are at.]

Who are you really?

[He demands, wanting to hear her say it.]

[burntbridges]

[Her hands tense, and then curl into fists as she tries to right herself. No, no, she can't have this. She's not ready to speak to him honestly. Her knuckles are white as snow, a forgotten blister searing her with pain as she tries to recover her voice.]

I'm not sure what you mean. [She manages to keep the voice she'd trained for 'Cinna', hiding her hands belatedly under her cloak to conceal how affected she is.] I've told you who I am, and I have no reason to be false with a stranger.

[And yet her blood is rushing in her ears. Her baby is so close, and her true love even closer, and her head is nearly spinning with emotion but she can't let herself show a drop of it. No one cares what you feel, she reminds herself pointedly, just like her mother would have. No one cares, you shouldn't either.]

[ragnarsson]

[He watches her tense up. Is it because she's nervous at being caught in a lie, knowing that he's close to discovering the truth? Or is it because she's disconcerted at being faced with a man who's coming off as crazy and paranoid? There's only one way to tell for certain.

His blue eyes are blazing ice ships as he orders her.]

Take off that veil. I want to see your face.

[burntbridges]

[She bristles a bit more, but fully hidden under her cloak it's hard to tell exactly how put off she is. Still, it's clear in the way that she stands, knocking back her chair and spilling what's left of her wine across her plate.]

I feel no obligation to show you my face. Now, if you'll excuse me.

[Her words are sharp and snipped, and without giving him time to react lest he reach for her, she snakes her way into the crowd and attempts to disappear. She'll be hanging around the celebration a while longer, but any time Ivar catches sight of her she'll do her best to make herself scarce.]