[ open ] where I end, we'll begin

[franciscoramon]

who: cisco + anyone!
what: a catch-all post
when: january
where: various places
warnings: will add as needed

[ PROMPTS TBA or come plot with me @ platoapproved. ]

Comments

[storradr]

No. He did not.

[Lagertha had suggested they simply try to leave, but that would mean forfeiting their home, their land, potentially their friends, his brother, and there was still no guarantee that Earl Haraldson would stop just because they left. There was no knowing now though. He'd made his choice. And he'd won.

He smirked a little when Cisco told him he was glad.] As am I. He fought well. He was... not a good man, but he was a good warrior.

[Ragnar sort of shrugged, though it was obviously in agreement.] Unfortunately, I was not left much choice.

[He glanced around the workshop again.] Show me something else. Have you made anything... that is not a weapon? And you said this was the sort of thing you did before you came here, yes? For your...mmm... president? [Ha! He'd remembered the title given to the king where Cisco was from.] For his army?

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco thinks that it's good Ragnar at least can have a break from all that, in this place. That he can hang out with his daughter, his son, and relax a little bit without the burden of ruling. ]

Oh, yeah. Honestly, most of the stuff I make isn't weapons. The bad thing about making weapons is, well, anybody can use 'em. Nothing quite as insulting as one of your enemies gets their hands on something you made and uses it against you, on you or the people you care about. Shitty, shitty situation. So I mostly stick to the defensive stuff.

[ He heads towards a different cabinet, opening it with considerably less reluctance. Ragnar's mistake amuses him, and he laughs, good-natured and loud. ]

No, no no no, I don't work for the president. Or the army. Or anything that official. I made gear for superheroes. People with powers - either... superpowers, or just really well-trained warriors - who operate on their own, stopping crime, saving people from disasters. They're less like soldiers and more like... like the heroes you'd hear about in an epic poem. There are only a few of them, but they don't answer to anybody, and they make the world a better place.

[ Cisco taps a finger to his chin, but goes for the item that he thinks will probably impress Ragnar the easiest. It looks like a standard-issue riot shield that has been altered, covered in geometrical patterns of copper and gold. There are a few softly blinking lights that come on along the side when Cisco presses a button on the inside of the shield. ]

Looks like a regular shield, right? Maybe it'll stop an arrow, or a sword or whatever. But!

[ He hands the shield to Ragnar and walks off, fishing around and then coming back with a small vial. He holds it gingerly, picking a scrap of extra fabric off the table and folding it up. Making sure Ragnar is looking, he opens the vial and pours just a few drops of the acid onto the fabric, which burns with a loud hissing and popping, acrid smoke coming up from it as the acid eats away at the fabric. ]

Acid.

[ Cisco beckons for Ragnar to hold up the shield and, when he's ready, tosses the rest of the contents onto the shield. It not only does not burn, but it absorbs them, so that only one or two drops hit the floor. ]

Acid-proof shield. Good for the out past the wall, there's definitely some monsters out there that spit it. And that's not all! Hang on...

[ He wanders off towards his mini fridge, to get some ice cubes. It'll all make sense in a minute... ]

[storradr]

[He nodded, half understanding what Cisco meant. They had plenty of tales like that. Great heroes who fought and vanquished even more impressive sounding beasts.

He took the shield, his fingers running over the glass portion with obvious curiosity. He also seemed distracted by the gold inlaid in it.] I... guess. Ordinary enough... [His own shield was nothing but wood and paint.

When Cisco turns back around, Ragnar is trying it out, testing out the weight and shape. It was bulkier than what he was used to, but lighter. He looks over at Cisco, brow furrowing slightly as he watches him. He had no idea what he was holding, something molten?]

Acid? [Still, he holds up the shield, turning it to look at what effect the acid had had on it.] Acid proof... but it can still block a sword strike without breaking? [He didn't sound completely convinced.] It is very... light. [He'd pulled his axe out, tapping it against the front of the shield experimentally.]