riverviewlogs | January monthly log!

Entry tags:

January monthly log!

who: Ivar and others. Maybe even you?
what: Monthly log
when: All throughout January
where: Abandoned City, the park, all over
warnings: A fight, possible baby mama drama, maybe some body horror with morphing?

A. First rule of Fight Club - For Damian and later on Bucky

Considering how their last fight had gone, even if Damian didn't remember, Ivar was eager to see who would win in this second one. He headed out into the Abandoned City towards the biggest waterfall. It was best not to do this in the city, for it was a certainty that someone would try to stop the two of them if they knew what they were up to. This might have been the wiser course of action, for there was no telling how carried away they were likely to get during this.

Ivar was the first to arrive and he waited, taking out his axe, sharpening it on a whetting stone as he waited for the young assassin to arrive.

B. The blue box - For Marco

It's been several weeks since Ivar broke his leg badly and Marco had to rescue him in gorilla form. While his leg is now healed up thanks to the ministrations of Shigeru, such a traumatic experience is not easily forgotten. They haven't really spoken much of it since then, but observant as Ivar is, he's noticed that Marco seems to have something on his mind.

Rather than press him, he waits for Marco to find the right moment to talk to him. It appears to come when they're relaxing on the couch together, Ivar with his head in Marco's lap and his eyes closed, the TV on for background noise. Marco says something that he doesn't quite catch, so Ivar opens up his eyes and looks up. "Hmmm? What did you say?"

C. Co-parenting - For Letha

Dealing with Letha was rather like strategizing for a war. He kept trying to read her and figure out how to stay one step ahead. Right now, they were in an uneasy truce, both of them remaining civil for the sake of Winter. Ivar wanted to believe that she had changed and actively wanted to be a part of her daughter's life again, but the cynical side of him wondered how long it would last.

The reunion hadn't been smooth. As soon as she picked up Winter, the familiar glow surrounded the baby, and Letha had nearly fainted from stubbornly insisting she kept wanting to hold onto her. Ivar wasn't sure how much babies could remember, but it was obvious he was going to need to deal with this problem of Winter draining her mother's life force sooner rather than later.

The best thing for her would be to associate Letha with positive feelings, love and comfort, the way she did with Ivar. So right now, they were out in the backyard of Letha's house. Winter had on a cute little smock dress as she crawled around the backyard while her parents watched her.

"She's gotten so big," Ivar remarked. He was hoping she wouldn't drain the life out of any of the plants or bugs in the backyard, but if she did, well, at least it wasn't a person.

D. What kind of Pokemon are you? - OTA

With all that had been going on lately, Ivar hadn't had the chance to really get his Pokemon out and about. It made him feel a little guilty. Pets were not to be neglected no matter what form they came in. So he took the three of them out to a nearby park and released them from their Pokeballs so that they could get some exercise.

Skinfaxi and Hrimfaxi galloped around for a bit before settling down to graze. It was amazing how his Ponyta had grown from a tiny foal all the way to a full-grown stallion big enough to ride. Sprig, on the other hand, remained close to Ivar, occasionally nudging him in hopes of getting a treat. He was a gluttonous little thing.

If he saw anyone, he would wave them over, proud to show off his trio of pocket monsters.

E. Morphing - OTA (Set at some point after the thread with Marco)

Anyone walking around the city would notice a certain oddity now roaming the streets. There were different animals wandering around. Some were ones from earth and others were obviously alien in nature. Most of the time, they could be found tearing around at top speeds, or if they had wings, awkwardly swooping down low to land nearby people. It was, of course, Ivar testing out his new powers.

If he noticed anyone that he knew, he was likely going to approach them, trying to look as cute as possible. He wasn't going to be revealing who he was just yet. He wanted to see what advantages there were when people just thought a dumb animal was around them, not a Viking who was far too sneaky for his own good.

This will only end well.

F. Wildcard

[Have an idea or want a custom starter? PM me or send me a Plurk at

Light_shade]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

After visiting a handful of prospective houses with Gyda, she had finally seemed satisfied with one that he also liked. It hadn't taken much to arrange to lease it and move in what little they had.

His first order of business was to work on a fence and a small house for the goats and a hut for the chickens that he was hoping to get. He'd chopped down a number of good sized branches and hauled them all to the side of the house where he was starting to strip them clean of bark, excess twigs, and leaves in order to make fence posts and rails.

Ivar had initially come over with the intent of seeing what sort of house his father had gotten. But when he saw all the goats running around, he really couldn't help himself. He coaxed one of the little ones over to him and acquired it. Then he stripped off his outer layers and got out of his wheelchair, morphing into the little beast.

He found the goat nature to be one of a herd animal, wanting to stick close to the others in case any predators attacked. His own natural confidence in his abilities to handle things made it easy for him to overcome these instincts. Being a baby, this one too had the playfulness that came with the form. He found himself bouncing all over the place, delighted with how easy it was to move around in this body.

Then he went off to find Ragnar. A goat's nose was not nearly so sensitive as a dog's, but Ivar already knew the scent well after spending time around Athelstan. He bounded on over to where Ragnar was busy with work on the fence.

The goats were milling around, staying relatively close to the house for two very good reasons - food and their nice little goat shed. The fence would be done by today, which would simply ensure that they wouldn't run off if startled and in the off chance that a dog or something else came by they might have a little more protection.

When baby goat Ivar came bounding up, Ragnar had the fence poles all in and was starting on placing the rails and fastening them into place. He didn't seem to take any notice of the little goat.

Ivar waited to see if his father would notice him. When it appeared that he was engrossed in the task of building the fence, Ivar let his sense of humor and mischief take over. He dug a hoof into the ground a few times and then bounded forward, headbutting Ragnar's legs.

Then he backed up, looking up with only the most innocent kid goat expression that he could muster.

Although Ragnar had idly registered that one of the goats had wandered closer, he'd mostly ignored it. They'd been milling around all day and the young ones had shown plenty of curiosity in what he was doing.

"What are you-" He sighed, but was smiling warmly as the goat sprang and headbutt his leg, "Go pester your friends, little one. Tchtch."

He tried to shoo the goat away gently.

Nope, Ivar's not going to be going anywhere. He dances away from Ragnar on his nimble little hooves before coming closer again. He butts his head against Ragnar's head gently, letting out a series of Baaahs that clearly have one meaning to them: 'Pay attention to me.'

Clearly, Ivar got his gadfly tendencies from his father.

With a sigh, though still smiling softly, he picked the little goat up and eased himself down to sit with his back against the fence post he'd put in earlier.

"You, little one, are trouble," He tapped the baby goat gently on the nose.

What little resolve he'd had broke down further and he gave the little goat's ears a good scratch.

Taking a short rest wouldn't kill him, so he sat quietly, petting the goat, apparently deep in thought or just content to sit and enjoy the quiet.

Being in different forms meant Ivar got to see sides to people that they usually didn't present otherwise. Being as a kid goat, it was interesting to see his father when no one else was around for Ragnar to impress.

He laid his head down on Ragnar's legs, the odd eyes with the slit pupils momentarily closing as his ears were scratched. That felt very nice to a creature without thumbs to scratch himself with. Then he looked up at his father, deciding this was a good moment to reveal himself. < What is it with you and goats anyway? > That was definitely Ivar's voice in Ragnar's head, though his crippled son was nowhere in sight.

It was very obvious that Ragnar had heard him. He suddenly sat bolt upright and peered around, definitely not suspecting the goat in his lap. He'd somehow heard the voice in his head and not audibly, which was already confusing him.

And absolutely no one was around.

Great. So, he was losing his mind.

He dragged a hand down his face and lifted the little goat up so he could set it down on the ground. He'd been working hard all day, maybe he needed some water or something...

Internally, Ivar was practically cackling. He very nearly fell over as the goat was set down just from sheer amusement. Most everyone had been able to put it together relatively quickly, but apparently, Ragnar was just not getting it.

The little goat danced around Ragnar, Ivar letting the playful instincts of the creature run wild. He flopped down on the ground in an unceremonious heap. < You haven't figured it out yet, have you? >

He got to his feet and paused as Ivar's voice was in his head again. This place had magic, was it so far-fetched to believe Ivar was somehow using that magic?

He looked around, feigning annoyance and paying even less attention to the little goat.

"Where are you, Ivar? How are you doing that?" He said, speaking nowhere in particular. He had no idea where his son could be.

< I'm...around. Closer than you think. > If Ragnar had ever wondered if any of his sons had inherited his troll tendencies, why yes, yes this one did.

The little Ivar goat just sat there placidly, looking up at Ragnar, waiting to be noticed, if that ever happened. His father was smart, he'd figure it out at some point. But not before Ivar had a bit more fun.

He rolled his eyes, which the goat possibly couldn't see, but his body language shifted to reflect the amused annoyance just as much as the eye roll.

His gaze did drop to the goat for a moment and he raised his eyebrow.

"Very funny. But I know you are not a goat, Ivar," He legitimately just assumed Ivar was trying to fuck with him further by making him think he was a goat.

That just makes him flop onto the ground again in silent laughter. This was just too good.

< Or am I? > Just look at that little goat face. There's no way it could be him...could it? There's a distinct look of mischief on the goat's face that is definitely Ivar-like.

Ragnar watches the little goat in annoyance, unable to shake the feeling that Ivar was tricking him. It was half working.

"Fuck off," He told the goat almost cheerfully, switching to their native tongue. If this was Ivar, he might appreciate that. He bent down to scoop the little goat up, holding it up to look it in the eyes, "I almost want to butcher this goat just to prove that you are lying, Ivar."

He spoke loudly as if he believed Ivar was somewhere close by listening but definitely wasn't the goat. Instead of following through with the threat, he turned the goat in his arms to tuck it safely against his chest and gave its head a scratch before setting it down.

Ivar gave no indication that he at all might be the goat. He merely blinks at Ragnar, wriggling around a little as he was picked up. When he's set back down, he butts at Ragnar playfully again.

< Would it be considered cannibalism if you eat me while I'm in this form? >

As he says this, he's using his hoof to scratch something in the dirt. It's four runes: ᛁᚢᛅᚱ, the runes that spell out his name. He sits there and waits for Ragnar to take notice.

"This-" He scoffed dramatically, "Do not say 'this form'. You are not a goat."

And then he watched as the goat, which was definitely not Ivar, carve runes into the dirt. If Ivar thought his father could read those, he was very wrong, but there was one he recognized - raidho, the rune that started and ended his name.

He sighed, not pleased at all about the mounting evidence that this goat was somehow Ivar.

"And what is the point of this, hm? To make me feel crazy," He still wasn't addressing the goat, instead speaking loudly to the surrounding area, still believing Ivar was probably trying to trick him. At least he'd started to move past 'you are not a goat' and was now onto 'why do you want me to think you're a goat?'. It was progress.

Ivar-the-goat used a back hoof to delicately scratch behind one ear. He was wondering what other ungoatlike activity he could do that would help convince his father.

<I can't say the thought of driving you crazy isn't a tempting one, but no. I just thought I'd show off the new power I was recently given.>

At least Ragnar is now becoming more accustomed to the idea rather than out-and-out disbelieving him. Ivar wondered if he should demorph just to prove to Ragnar that what he was saying was the truth, but that end the game far too quickly. He's having a lot of fun now messing with his father's head.

He frowned down at the goat before rolling his eyes at himself. Making a noise at the goat in an obvious attempt to shoo it away, he subtly peeked around the corner of the house, still wondering where Ivar was actually hiding.

"You can speak to people in their heads?" He glanced down at the goat, "And maybe control animals? Just take care, Ivar, a free gift is the rarest kind."

He hoped, for his son's sake, that the cost was not too high.

Ivar just kept tagging along with his father, amused at his attempts to try and figure out where he is. He trots alongside him. If he could smile, he would have. Ivar's wheelchair and knives have been left on the grass towards the front of the lawn, but he's still nowhere in sight.

<I can only speak to someone in their head when I am an animal. Believe it or not if you want to.>

Then there's the sound of a patient sigh in Ragnar's head at his warning. Seems like everyone wants to have their say in regards to such a power. He does understand though. Nothing comes without a price.

<I'm well-aware of the cost of this power. Marco explained it all to me. If I stay too long as animal, I'll never be able to turn human again. But a chance to be able to move without pain? To be able to run? Of course I was going to take it.>

"Such a price is not so bad," He said with a small shrug, tone genuine. It was a cost that made sense. Try to abuse the power, and lose the ability to become human again. A very appropriate punishment.

"So, does that mean that if I carry this goat around all day, you will be forced to show yourself again?" He asked, skeptical, but far less than he had been. He stoops to once again scoop up the little goat.

"There is only one thing that makes me think you might be tricking me. If you can become any animal, why would you ever choose to turn into a goat?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

January monthly log!

E

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject