July catch-all, OTA + Closed prompts; Name your price. Anything, anything!

[ragnarsson]

who: Ivar and you!
what: Catch-call for the month of July
when: Throughout the month
where: All over the city and forest
warnings: Pokemon battle and sparring

A) Blitzle Catching - OTA

Anyone who is beyond the city walls, a mile or two into the forest, is going to hear what sounds like a combination of thunderclaps, a forest fire, and horse whinnies. If they go further in, they're going to be witness to a curious sight. Ivar is using his Ponyta Skinfaxi in an intense Pokemon battle with a Blitzle. The Blitzle is dancing backwards, using her electric attacks like Shock Wave to protect herself from being captured.

Ivar's been training hard with his little Ponyta since he captured it. The little foal is not so little anymore. He has begun to fill out with a broad chest and sturdy back, long legs finally catching up to his appearance. He's learned to trust Ivar implicitly, understanding that his trainer will never allow him to fall prey to any danger.

Right now, he's giving out commands as Skinfaxi charges once more at Blitzle. "Use Ember!" A stream of flames erupts from the Ponyta, heading straight for the Blitzle. She dances away yet again, responding with the attack Charge. Ivar's not deterred. He'll find a way to get this little Electric-type Pokemon no matter what it takes.

B) The Futhark-English Dictionary - OTA

Anyone who sees Ivar during more quiet moments of the month is going to notice that he's got a book with him. Odd enough since the Viking has told people he can't read on more than one occasion. This book is thick and filled with the ancient runes system called Futhark that some Vikings had learned to read. It also has translations in English for every word. It's a dictionary, one of the presents he'd gotten during Prijata.

Ivar is diligently spending his time studying the dictionary with a pen and paper beside him. Every so often, he'll lean over, making some markings in Futhark, and then slowly spelling words out in the English alphabet. His letters are slow and laborious, with more than a few mistakes being made. But Ivar is intelligent and willing to work hard, so he keeps at it.

He can be found doing this anywhere: on floor five, outside in a nearby park, even during slow Perimeter Guard shifts. His focus during this time is just as intense as when he's using his weapons.

C) Weapons Training - OTA

Keeping his skills up to the high standards he has requires a lot of practice. Ivar has been using the archaic weapons like axes and swords since he was a small child. To this end, he spent a lot of time at the training center keeping his skills intact. He can be found there at least a few times a week at the bare minimum, using his weapons on various targets. If anyone challenges him to a sparring match, he'll gladly accept.

One thing he's also become aware of how to use is a gun. Thanks to basic lessons from Loki, he's learned how to properly wield one. But he knows his skills are going to take a lot more work to get as good as he is with his other weapons. Fortunately, Ivar has a good eye, accuracy, and a lot of patience on his side. He can be found at the gun range, using one of the provided handguns to practice. Occasionally, he'll stop, and watch those around him. Don't be surprised if you find yourself being watched with a very intense blue gaze from the Viking in the wheelchair.

D) Nightmares on Floor Five - For Bucky

Ivar wasn't much for sleeping at night. He was naturally a night owl, staying up late, and then sleeping until double digits were on the clock in the morning. So he was having trouble falling asleep long after everyone else on his floor had already passed out for the night.

Subsequently, he could hear when someone started moving around in their sleep, and muttering incoherently. He sat up in his bed, looking around for the source of the noise. It was down towards the first set of beds. He saw Bucky not so much moving as thrashing around, sheets tangled around him. Ivar slipped off the bed, not bothering with the wheelchair when he only needed to go halfway across the room. He crawled over, listening to the mutters and moans that seemed to be issuing from the old soldier.

Ivar got over to the side of the bed, pulling himself up into a sitting up position on his knees. He didn't wake up Bucky right away, instead watching him there, his bright blue eyes practically glowing in the dark as he watched in curiosity, wondering where his friend's mind was.

E) Attempt at Killing #1 - For Cain

Ivar was rolling down a mostly-deserted street after a Perimeter Guard shift where he'd been dealing with some nasty things that looked like six-foot tall versions of Japanese hornets. Trying to kill those things had been a fun, if tiring, challenge. Subsequently, he wasn't really looking where he was going. He ran his wheelchair right over the feet of someone when he reached the street corner.

"I'm sor-" Then he looked up and saw who it was he'd run into. His face immediately shuttered. "--Oh, never mind, it's just you." He hadn't forgotten their encounter when Ivar had just been out of the hospital and in a shitton of pain. He'd been none too fond of Cain then and still wasn't.

F) Domesticity, Morbid Style - For Letha

Ivar had promised Letha he was going to get her a nice furry black hide for her bed. To that end, he'd been volunteering a few more hours on the Perimeter Guard shifts, looking for something that would both be large, black, and furry enough while still having a good skull that they could decorate their daughter's room with so that she'd be able to play with it once she was born. Wasn't he just the most thoughtful father, everyone?

After several failed monster killings, he finally encountered something that was rather like an overgrown, six-armed deep, glossy black colored polar bear. It also had the most melodious-sounding enraged roar, so he knew it would have a great skull. He killed it in one blow to preserve the beast as much as possible. He skinned it, cleaned it, and waited a few days for it to dry. Anyone who complained about the smell during this time was promptly whacked with an axe handle.

Then he took it to the house he sometimes shared with Letha, just as giddy as any other sixteen year old presenting their crush with a gift. He burst through the door, announcing, "Look what I have for you!"

G) Gotta Catch 'em All - For Damian

He'd agreed to take Damian to see the lake where most of the Pokemon tended to congregate. To that end, he'd taken a few Pokeballs and some of the food with him in case he ran into anything interesting he wanted to capture, or in case Damian decided he wanted to catch one of his own. Then he met up with the younger teen and set out beyond the wall.

There were few things that could make the tough Viking soften up at all. The thought of a bunch of animals with powers could do it. Ivar spoke to Damian as they went along "Let me know if you want to catch any of them. You can either try to make friends or I can loan you Skinfaxi for a battle." Skinfaxi had of course accompanied them, loyally walking right behind Ivar, occasionally nuzzling him in hopes of getting a treat.

H) Wildcard

Want a specific prompt or something that isn't here? Feel free to ask by PM or at Light_shade

Comments

Nightmares

[anotheroldsoldier]

It doesn't happen quite as often as it used to. Bucky only sleeps about six hours a night anyway, and having Steve and Tony both on the same floor eases them somewhat. They're a little worse when someone new moves onto the floor, though. He can't sleep quite as easily with a new and unknown quantity just beds away setting off the warning bells in the back of his head that go off whether he wants them to or not. His nightmares, when they happen, are normally quieter than this, he holds himself preternaturally still, but...

But once in a while. Once in a while, his brain torments him with just the right series of images, a mixture of memories and awful imagination, to make him break out in a cold sweat, to make him toss in the sheets. Tonight Bucky Barnes is trapped in his own head, locked away inside the Winter Soldier, watching helplessly as he pulls the trigger, as he falls into step for his Russian masters. It morphs hideously with thoughts of Steve - Steve in his crosshairs, on the courthouse steps, falling to the ground in his handcuffs with the Soldier's bullets in his belly and blood blossoming across the stars and stripes. The shield is yours, Cap.

His low sleep-mumbling is a strange mixture of Russian and English, though the magic of this place probably translates it all. "Don't do it, don't- I don't want it-" He seems to grow uneasier with Ivar close, rolling to face him, the sheet twisted around his legs. His eyes haven't opened just yet.

[ragnarsson]

Ivar watches, fascinated as Bucky writhes before him. The young Viking doesn't get nightmares himself, for it's not in his nature to ever feel bad about any of the terrible things he's done over the course of his life.

He listens for about a minute before he finally decides that he should probably wake Bucky up. Reaching out a hand, he gently tries to wake the old soldier up. "Hey. You're dreaming. Wake up." He's blissfully unaware of just how bad an idea waking up a soldier with PTSD and all the skills Bucky has might be.

[anotheroldsoldier]

Touching him when he's like this was a mistake, Ivar will soon find out. He's no doubt seen Bucky at work with the Guard, but he hasn't seen him like this. Bucky's eyes fly open and his body goes very still, looking at Ivar and somehow looking right through him at the same time. His eyes are blank and empty the way they never are while he's awake, cold and sharp.

He reacts more quickly than one might expect from someone with no superpowers, rolling, snatching Ivar up by his shirt and hurling him at the far wall as if he weighs nothing. To the metal arm, he practically does weigh nothing.

His chest is heaving as he crouches on the edge of the bed, one foot on the floor, fingers flexing. It takes a minute or so for that sharp, blank-eyed look to fade to muzzy confusion.

[ragnarsson]

Ivar has but a moment to register the look in Bucky's eyes. It's eerily similar to the same one his counterpart has when he fights. Ivar's seen it often enough when they spar or when the other Bucky gets lost inside his own head. These thoughts are barely formed when Bucky grabs him, tossing him across the room.

There's a heady sensation of flying through the air that's quickly replaced by a massive jolt of pain as he hits the unforgiving solidness of the wall. He slides to the floor, not making any attempt to get back up.

His first task is to make sure his legs are alright. They've broken from far less extreme moves than that. He probes them carefully with his fingers, but they appear to be fine, just a little achy, as they're already warranted to be. Fortunately, his back had absorbed most of the impact.

Rubbing it, he looks across the room to Bucky, who doesn't look as if he's fully awake yet. Ivar has been suitably impressed. He crawls back towards Bucky with no small amount of caution. "Wow. What sort of dream were you having?"

[anotheroldsoldier]

Bucky wakes up several moments behind his body, enough for the damage to be done. That blank look on his face clears up, and leaves a slack, muted sort of horror. Seeing Ivar on the ground, he can follow the trajectory of how he'd thrown him, and he shudders, sinking back down onto the edge of the bed. Scrubbing a hand over his eyes, he doesn't risk insult to Ivar by trying to help him up.

"Shit. Ivar. You-" The words stick in his throat. "You shouldn't wake me up like that." The thing he doesn't say is left dangling in the air, obvious as anything, I'm dangerous. He might have it together more than his counterpart, they might be totally different men most of the time, but sometimes... Sometimes the similarities are overwhelming.

"I'm sorry. Fuck."

[ragnarsson]

"What was I supposed to do? Let you just lie there having a nightmare?" Ivar crawls back over to Bucky's bed, using the edge of it to pull himself up onto the mattress. The majority of the danger seems to have passed. Not that he was worried about any of that at all. Ivar could be stupidly reckless from a lack of fear sometimes.

He sits down on the edge of the bed. "It's alright. I've gotten worse bruises from sparring with people." He's either remarkably unconcerned with how much worse that could have gone or he just doesn't care. He's more focused on Bucky, wondering at the aftermath of the dreams he'd found himself in. Whatever it was appeared to have taken their toll on him.

[aeturnus]

[ Ow? Rude. Someone rolling over his toes is definitely not what he expects when he's distracted by something on his phone, and he pulls back when the other doesn't stop. Only after he's fully trodden does Ivar look up at him and Cain merely raises his brows for the unenthusiastic, rude response. ]

Right. Just me. Apparently not good enough for an apology?

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar snorts as he stares up at the man. Nope, he doesn't care in the least about his rudeness. This was standard Ivar behavior. If everyone didn't tolerate it as well as they did, he might learn better ones. But they did and so he continues on as he always has.]

You've proven yourself to be nothing but an annoyance. If you can become something else, I might actually be bothered to give a shit.

[aeturnus]

Wow, you're a little douche when you're not exhausted.

[ Nah, if someone's going to come at him, Cain will go back at it. This guy might be something to be feared... but Cain doesn't have a whole lot of fears left anymore. ]

So sorry, I think my annoying button got stuck when you ran into me.

[ragnarsson]

And proud of it.

[Ivar had spent years as the youngest sibling and knew just how much of a terribly rotten little bastard he could be.]

Of that, I have no doubt. You seem like the type to stick your nose into everyone's business and claim it's because you're interested, when in truth it's because you're just a nosy busybody.

[aeturnus]

Close, but no cigar. I fully own that I'm a nosy busybody that finds everyone else interesting.

[ Doesn't mean he's interested in them. ]

If anybody asks, anyway.

Domesticity ♡

[burntbridges]

Well, in all fairness she's a little startled by the noise, but after a brief moment to catch her breath from their daughter kicking at the sounding his voice, she rushes over to greet him. And when she sees the thick bundle of black fur on his lap, her eyes light up with excitement.

"You found one!"

Her hair is in messy pigtails to keep it out of her face, as she'd been doing her best to clean the house between herself and the new skeleton Nico had been kind enough to introduce her to. She's even managed to chip off some of the paint on her nails, while cleaning - the sight of independence, she's fairly sure. And by now there really is a lot to clean, since she's had time to decorate the house and even set up a proper nursery for their daughter. Istrid. Her name is going to be Istrid, she's very set on that.

"Do you have the skull in there, too? What does it sound like?"

[ragnarsson]

She always looks lovely to Ivar, even after a full day of cleaning. Such was the depths of teenage love. The glossy hide is full of thick fur and is a shiny black. It's huge and will easily fit over the bed for a nice bedspread. He hands it over to Letha, letting her feel the softness that came from tanning it for several days.

He pulls the skull out from the pack on his back. It's huge, a heavy bit of bone with large eye sockets and long, jumbled fangs sticking out every which way from the mouth, giving it the appearance of some ghastly smile. "Try it out for yourself." It will produce a wonderful and deep-sounding roar.

This was, of course, the typical domestic situation a pair of morbid love-struck teenagers would find themselves in.

[burntbridges]

She takes it gratefully, pressing her face into the thick fur with a little giggle of joy. He's found the best creature possible - and when she hears the long, melodic roar from its skull she looks up with a startled but nevertheless excited look.

With a moment of thought she searches out the body of her servant in another room, and Bludmilla shambles over to take the fur from her. She's been having a lot of time to practice with her, and she's starting to feel her powers are back where they were before her death - at least strong enough that the risen can go and lay out the fur without Letha supervising her. That frees her hands to take the skull, looking it over with unbridled curiosity like a child at Christmas.

"Hello there..." The skull creates a small chuffing noise, startling her crow pin into cawing at it, and a thought occurs to her about the same time that she realizes Ivar can't hear it, "I should teach you to speak to the dead - it would be such a shame for Istrid and I to hear this without you."

[ragnarsson]

Seeing her happy and giggling eases up the tense anger that's constantly present in his mind. She's become a constant source of comfort to the unstable Viking in such a short amount of time. He doesn't like to think about what would happen if something happened to her and he was left all alone again.

He places one hand against her belly, speaking to both mother and child. "Istrid? Is that what she's decided to go with as a name?" He likes it. It's a good, strong name, and his superstitious nature approves of giving a name that will lend a child strength before they're born.

"I'd like that. It'd be something we can experience together." She'd mentioned it before, but it had been difficult to find time, between how busy their lives were, and how Letha kept getting sick.

[burntbridges]

"Of course." She puffs herself up proudly, "It's not safe to teach her until she's at least seven, but if we can both visit the afterlife with her I'm sure she'll feel safer."

Although... her smile wanes for a moment. She wonders if Istrid will be tied to the afterlife of this reality. She knows that if she herself dies, she'll cease to exist, but if her daughter died and couldn't even stay in Riverview's afterlife to keep her company...

...And a second later that thought is shoved far, far down into the deepest corner of her mind, and she distracts herself by giving Ivar a warm kiss. "I'm sure you can learn it quickly - we could start tonight if you like. Although... you might want to be careful around the belt on my desk once you've learned, it can make quite a racket when it's disturbed."

You know, that belt she has told him nothing about, that she stays up some nights until late at night just staring at by the light of her tablet because lighting a candle would bring up too many bad thoughts. No big deal bringing it up.

C!

[krasnaya_vdova]

Ava honestly hasn't quite figured out what to do with herself just yet. She can't help wondering if she should have let them assign her a job just to have something to do, but she'd balked when they'd asked her about her skills. Unsure how best to explain that her skills were almost all about neutralizing and taking down threats.

Oh yeah, and she was also more or less a human battery if the first part wasn't weird enough.

So of course she finds her way down to the gun range. She has to find clips for her Glock as she's a bit too self-conscious in this place to use her powers the way she used to back at the Academy. She's focused, comfortable, double-tap, two shots in quick succession then letting it drop from her fingers, catching it in her other hand, and then continuing. The rounds a tight cluster at center mass.

She can feel the gaze on her and as she's switching out the clip she turns, looking over at the source. "You know how to shoot?" It's an attempt at casual, though Ava isn't the best with casual.

[ragnarsson]

Ivar's watching her quite intently from where he's sitting in his wheelchair. Aside from that obvious fact, the most striking thing about him is his eyes. The sclera are a faint blue rather than white. Combined with his icy blue irises he has, it makes for an sharp blue-on-blue gaze. He's been watching her for several minutes now, taking in her skill set.

"A little," he says, his voice blurred with an ancient Norwegian accent. "Someone here showed me the basics, but I still have a lot more left to learn."

[krasnaya_vdova]

He's not the only one with strange eyes; hers don't color the sclera, at least not when she's still calm like this. But her irises are too bright, too blue, almost electric. So there's a vague curiosity when she catches his eyes, part of her that wonders what it means.

"Well, if you want, maybe I can help? I know a little bit," she offers with a slight smile. She's actually not entirely being modest. The difference between the things that she could do and the things she'd ever actually learned were considerable, and she's never tried to teach anyone the skills that just lingered in her head.

But well, first time for everything, right?

[ragnarsson]

Ivar looks her over. He's been watching her handle the gun and it seems like she's got some skills. More than he has anyway. All he can do is point a gun at a target and hope to hit something. Even that doesn't always happen sometimes since he's still getting used to the kickback of the weapon.

As for the woman herself, she just looks average, but Ivar knows better than to judge someone based on their appearance. Besides himself, he's seen shieldmaidens no bigger than five feet tall flip grown men on their backs and run them through. "It seems like you know what you're doing. I could always use the help of someone competent like that." He flicks the safety on his gun and rolls towards her.

C

[advanced]

Bucky doesn't go to the gun range for himself, he practises where there are less people to see what his skills are, but he does go quite often to observe the other people and see what they have in the way of marksmanship. Not that he watches from the open, often taking up a perch on one of the roofs and spying that way.

Until he sees Ivar.

Having refused to teach him how to use a gun himself, he's almost angry that Ivar has found another teacher. This kid shouldn't be using a firearm, which is why Bucky drops down beside him from his secret hideaway.

"Taking up a new hobby?"

[ragnarsson]

Ivar is startled when Bucky drops down next to him, but at least he doesn't turn the gun on him. The instincts he has for the weapon doesn't run bone-deep the way it does with his axe and knives. There is perhaps a touch of guilt on his face. While he hasn't technically done anything wrong, it was close enough to going behind Bucky's back for Ivar to know his sometimes-mentor and friend isn't going to be happy.

"If I don't learn, I might shoot my own foot off." But judging by the marks on the target behind him, he's at least proficient enough with the weapon not to do that. The pattern of the bullets looks a bit erratic, the sign of someone not used to the kickback of the gun yet. "And if l turn out to be completely useless, I can at least smash it over someone's head."

[advanced]

Bucky really isn't happy about seeing the gun in Ivar's hand, but he is a little happy at the touch of guilt on his face. That suggests that he might have the conscience that he denied having after all, even if it's small and underdeveloped, so there's hope for him yet.

"Who taught you how to use one to begin with?"

Because whoever it was really needs to work on their judgement calls with who should be handling firearms.

[ragnarsson]

Ivar's not nearly as lacking in the emotional department as he professes. But he can't see in himself what he sees in others, that sense of being able to tell right from wrong. For him, what he wants takes precedence over everything else. Being closer to someone does give him some clarity as he can anticipate what they expect as acceptable behavior, even if he doesn't still see it himself.

Ivar shifts a little around in his wheelchair. He already knows Bucky isn't going to like this answer. "Loki. Not the one I live with, the other one. He said he knew about modern weapons and offered to help me."

He waits for Bucky's reaction.

[advanced]

Loki is definitely a name that he knows. He wasn't around when the Avengers fought him, he had been in cryogenic freeze at the time between missions, but he's read the news since and he knows that the man is bad news. But that depends if he means that Loki, he knows there are two here even if he hasn't spoken to either, and they both seem to be more accepted with the heroes than he would imagine.

Still, not a name he likes to hear when it comes to weapons, and that probably shows in the darkening of his expression.

"He teach you about gun safety, or just how to point and shoot?"