Ivar "The Boneless" Ragnarsson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ragnarsson) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-08-14 10:52 pm
ragnarsson) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-08-14 10:52 pm
I don't mind, forget it, there's nothing to lose (OTA)
who: Ivar and you + some closed prompts
what: Catch-all for August! Amnesia plot and regular prompts
when: Later half of August, the 9th onwards.
where: All over the city
warnings: None
A. Ivarsdottir. Def: Old Norse for Ivar's daughter. - OTA
While Letha seemed determined to hide Winter away like she was some hideous monster, Ivar's attitude was in a complete 180 degree direction. He couldn't have been prouder to be a father to such a wonderful little girl. Because of his impotency, he'd always thought he'd never be able to have children. To get the chance to be a father was more than he ever could have hoped for.
Anyone who might have been worried about how someone so filled with anger was going to be around a child would soon have their fears put to rest. Ivar was as doting and gentle as any new parent, wanting nothing more than to hold Winter close and gaze down at her little oddly-colored eyes.
She was still a little fragile, so mostly he was found with her in the hospital. But every so often, he got permission from the staff to take her outside, provided she was suitably protected from the sun. That pale skin, white as snow, would burn easily without her dressed up. No matter where the location was, Ivar was going to be approaching friends, acquaintances, and let's face it, perfect strangers to brag about his child. "Have you see my daughter?" He asks everyone with just about the proudest expression on his face that he could have.
B. Just fade away. - OTA
Compared to most of the denizens who have been afflicted with amnesia, Ivar seemed to be unaffected by what was taking everyone's memories. He wasn't stumbling around completely unaware of who he was or where the Quarantine was. But there's some subtle details that one might notice about the Viking that show he's not as unaffected as he's pretending to be.
He doesn't seem to use anyone's name in conversation or bring it up until the person he's talking to has done it himself. Five minutes after he leaves them, he won't remember it anyway. Also, in a first for the Viking, he's without weapons. Holding onto them had only caused a deep gash across his palm since he was unable to remember how to wield them properly. All he was keeping were the arm guards Tony had made for him. He figured the blades that could pop out of them were enough to keep him safe if anyone tried to attack him.
Finally, for anyone close that have heard him talk of his family, he seems to have forgotten entirely about one of his brothers, only mentioning three instead of four. This actually is one of the more advantageous aspects. Sigurd has been nothing but a constant torment his entire life, providing a neverending source of anger for the Viking. He's actually much happier not remembering the worst one of his older brothers. All in all, the more perceptive denizens of the Quarantine might realize something's amiss, but to everyone else, he might just seem a touch off.
C. A llama is a made up animal. - For Marco
"...What is that?" Ivar has seen a lot of strange animals in his time here. Heck, he owns a pair of fire and electric horses, for goodness sake. But every so often, there's an animal that continues to surprise him. After all, he's from a time period where very little of the world and its creatures have been discovered. This thing before him is fluffy, has a long neck, and overall is just...weird. He's never seen anything like it before.
He holds out a hand, having seen enough animals to know it was better to let them come to him instead of approaching them in what they could interpret as an aggressive manner. Besides, the wheelchair made some of them nervous. He continues talking to it in a low, casual tone. "So what are you then? Some sort of reject horse?"
Of course, he's never expecting in a million years that this funny looking creature might actually be capable of answering him back.
D. A little family just struggling together. - For Letha.
Ivar had barely been speaking with Letha. He was still furious at the way she was treating Winter. He wouldn't have even seen her at all had he not been coming to the hospital on an almost daily basis to see their daughter. Even then, she was lucky to get more than two words out of him, maybe a question of how the two of them were doing if she was lucky. When Ivar got mad, he could hold onto grudges forever. It could have been worse. If provoked again into a real rage, there was no telling what he might do, no matter how much he loved her.
But when he showed up to see Winter today, she was already being held by Letha, and apparently without any prompting by the nurses. It was such a surprising sight that Ivar merely sat there in the doorway, watching the two of them for a moment. It was such a pretty sight, so normal to see her actually acting as a mother caring for her child. "Well, that's more like it." He wheeled himself into the room and up to the edge of Letha's bed.
He reached out a hand, letting it rest upon the skin of Winter's tiny baby-soft one. "I was wondering what it was going to take to get you to come to your senses." As usual, he was blaming everything that had happened solely upon Letha. There would be no apology or soft words coming from him. There never was.
what: Catch-all for August! Amnesia plot and regular prompts
when: Later half of August, the 9th onwards.
where: All over the city
warnings: None
A. Ivarsdottir. Def: Old Norse for Ivar's daughter. - OTA
While Letha seemed determined to hide Winter away like she was some hideous monster, Ivar's attitude was in a complete 180 degree direction. He couldn't have been prouder to be a father to such a wonderful little girl. Because of his impotency, he'd always thought he'd never be able to have children. To get the chance to be a father was more than he ever could have hoped for.
Anyone who might have been worried about how someone so filled with anger was going to be around a child would soon have their fears put to rest. Ivar was as doting and gentle as any new parent, wanting nothing more than to hold Winter close and gaze down at her little oddly-colored eyes.
She was still a little fragile, so mostly he was found with her in the hospital. But every so often, he got permission from the staff to take her outside, provided she was suitably protected from the sun. That pale skin, white as snow, would burn easily without her dressed up. No matter where the location was, Ivar was going to be approaching friends, acquaintances, and let's face it, perfect strangers to brag about his child. "Have you see my daughter?" He asks everyone with just about the proudest expression on his face that he could have.
B. Just fade away. - OTA
Compared to most of the denizens who have been afflicted with amnesia, Ivar seemed to be unaffected by what was taking everyone's memories. He wasn't stumbling around completely unaware of who he was or where the Quarantine was. But there's some subtle details that one might notice about the Viking that show he's not as unaffected as he's pretending to be.
He doesn't seem to use anyone's name in conversation or bring it up until the person he's talking to has done it himself. Five minutes after he leaves them, he won't remember it anyway. Also, in a first for the Viking, he's without weapons. Holding onto them had only caused a deep gash across his palm since he was unable to remember how to wield them properly. All he was keeping were the arm guards Tony had made for him. He figured the blades that could pop out of them were enough to keep him safe if anyone tried to attack him.
Finally, for anyone close that have heard him talk of his family, he seems to have forgotten entirely about one of his brothers, only mentioning three instead of four. This actually is one of the more advantageous aspects. Sigurd has been nothing but a constant torment his entire life, providing a neverending source of anger for the Viking. He's actually much happier not remembering the worst one of his older brothers. All in all, the more perceptive denizens of the Quarantine might realize something's amiss, but to everyone else, he might just seem a touch off.
C. A llama is a made up animal. - For Marco
"...What is that?" Ivar has seen a lot of strange animals in his time here. Heck, he owns a pair of fire and electric horses, for goodness sake. But every so often, there's an animal that continues to surprise him. After all, he's from a time period where very little of the world and its creatures have been discovered. This thing before him is fluffy, has a long neck, and overall is just...weird. He's never seen anything like it before.
He holds out a hand, having seen enough animals to know it was better to let them come to him instead of approaching them in what they could interpret as an aggressive manner. Besides, the wheelchair made some of them nervous. He continues talking to it in a low, casual tone. "So what are you then? Some sort of reject horse?"
Of course, he's never expecting in a million years that this funny looking creature might actually be capable of answering him back.
D. A little family just struggling together. - For Letha.
Ivar had barely been speaking with Letha. He was still furious at the way she was treating Winter. He wouldn't have even seen her at all had he not been coming to the hospital on an almost daily basis to see their daughter. Even then, she was lucky to get more than two words out of him, maybe a question of how the two of them were doing if she was lucky. When Ivar got mad, he could hold onto grudges forever. It could have been worse. If provoked again into a real rage, there was no telling what he might do, no matter how much he loved her.
But when he showed up to see Winter today, she was already being held by Letha, and apparently without any prompting by the nurses. It was such a surprising sight that Ivar merely sat there in the doorway, watching the two of them for a moment. It was such a pretty sight, so normal to see her actually acting as a mother caring for her child. "Well, that's more like it." He wheeled himself into the room and up to the edge of Letha's bed.
He reached out a hand, letting it rest upon the skin of Winter's tiny baby-soft one. "I was wondering what it was going to take to get you to come to your senses." As usual, he was blaming everything that had happened solely upon Letha. There would be no apology or soft words coming from him. There never was.
no subject
"Yes. She's a necromancer." Ivar seemed a bit oblivious that his daughter could be mistaken for anything but a bundle of cuteness. On some level, he was aware that Winter was different, but she was whole and healthy with no physical handicaps to speak of. That was enough for Ivar, after experiencing a lifetime of pity for being unable to walk.
no subject
The little baby succeeded in grabbing the blanket Natasha was waving at her, tiny hand balling up in the material. She couldn't pull it, but she was happy to have her hand waved around for a few moments with Natasha's movement, before she tried to put it in her mouth.
no subject
But she'd never done it to him. She just seemed unnaturally quiet but content, overall, a baby who just so happened to have an unusual set of powers.
no subject
"Well, she is a cute little snowdrop." There was only so much you could say about a baby, though. Natasha had never found them to be all that interesting at this age. She preferred children with a little more personality. At least then she could decide for herself whether or not she actually liked them. So, having exhausted her limited supply of questions about said infant, she turned her attention back to Ivar. "And how have you been?"
no subject
"It's been a long couple of weeks. I wasn't sure Letha or Winter were actually going to live. But they both did and now I'm very happy. It's...strange." Ivar wasn't used to having a lasting state of happiness. Something always happened to interrupt it, snatching it away from him, and making him feel worse than when he had started. But he was daring to hope this time it might last. Maybe he could keep the little family he'd made here all for himself.
Ivar checked the time on his phone. The doctors had been very adamant about her only being out for the maximum of an hour, telling him of the dangers of overheating her and sunburn, which could be much worse for such a small baby born premature. They still had fifteen minutes before he had to take her back inside.
no subject
It seemed a shame for a child, even one too young to remember this down the line, to be stuck in a hospital room for twenty three hours out of every day. It seemed a shame, too, to deny a young proud father the opportunity to show his baby off.
no subject
The last thing he wanted to do was cause Winter any pain, even something as mild as irritated skin. So she had to be cloistered for her own safety. Once she was strong and the doctors gave the okay, he could take her home, and let her out for more hours at a time. There was a lot of this world he wanted to show her.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
After that was done, he took her back, watching Winter get settled in. When she was peacefully sleeping, colorless lashes against pale cheeks, he left the hospital. Off he went to meet Natasha at the hardware store.
no subject
no subject
Cocking his head to the side, he pulled up and put the hand brake on the chair. "What've you got in mind?"