But since you've been gone, girl you know the thought of you's driving me mad

[ragnarsson]

who: Ivar and you! + some closed prompts
what: The Viking tries (and fails to) deal with heartbreak
when: After August 25th and into September
where: All over the city
warnings: Possible violence, mentions of underage sex



She'd left him. Well, to be more specific, Letha had left him and Winter. Somehow, that hurt almost worse than anything, knowing that she didn't love her own child enough to stay and care for her. What had possessed her to do it, he'd never know. They'd finally slept together for the first time, and while they lay in bed together afterwards, Ivar had worked up the courage to tell her that he loved her for the first time.

The next day, she was gone.

Apparently, they'd gotten that portal working well enough to send her where she wanted to go. Those running it told him where they'd set it for: Kattegat in 816. His home world. Wasn't that just a kick in the ass, that she'd run away to where he'd come from? Ivar had been too stunned at the time to do much more than wonder why.

Eventually, the emotions hit, and considering the Viking never had a good grasp on them anyway, they were all over the place. He could be found alternately crying his eyes out, sulking like a small child, taking his rage out at the weapons training center, or spending time with Winter to distract himself. He could be encountered in just about any mood, but one thing was clear: Ivar was hurting bad, heartbroken in the way that someone could only be upon losing their first love.

Comments

For Bucky

[ragnarsson]

He wasn't sure this was a good idea. After sitting around for about two days, crying like he was never going to stop, Ivar had finally gotten the idea into his head that maybe he should talk to someone about his problem. He'd shown up to the apartment where he lived with Steve and Tony. What he really needed right now was a parental figure to listen to him. He knocked on the door until Bucky finally answered.

Without a word, he came inside, going over to the fridge. Any talking was going to require copious amounts of alcohol. Cracking open a beer, he took a long gulp, then finally spoke without clarifying who he was talking about. "She's gone. And she didn't even say goodbye." Ivar looked about as sad as it was possible to be.

[anotheroldsoldier]

Bucky was thankfully the one to answer the door when Ivar came knocking. He lets him in without a word, because Ivar was one of the handful of people on Floor 5 that Bucky hadn't been trying to get away from, at the time he moved out; he's got a standing invitation to drop by, same as Yuri and Ava. Luckily they have a wide elevator up to the apartment itself.

He doesn't speak until Ivar does, letting him make his way to the fridge and nick a beer. When he does finally explain his reason for coming over, Bucky frowns, brow furrowing, and reaches into the fridge to get his own beer. It's going to be that kind of conversation. Bucky never met Letha, but he knew at least vaguely that Ivar was seeing someone, and he infers, "Your girl?"

[ragnarsson]

"Yeah. Letha left me. And Winter." He drinks the beer like it's water. This was the traditional Viking way of dealing with things: get drunk until it numbed all the feelings away. He was making a good headstart on that process.

"That's what I can't believe. I could understand leaving me. I'm not the most charming person to be around. But what sort of a mother abandons her child?" Now he sounds mad in addition to being sad. He feels equal parts of both, some weird combination that should be named smad.

[anotheroldsoldier]

Well, Bucky isn't one to give lectures on alcohol as coping mechanisms. He's used it as a crutch more than once himself, even recently; very recently. He sets the beer down, unopened, and goes to the kitchen cabinets, stooping down to dig in the one underneath the sink. It seems to be mostly cleaning products in plastic tubs, but he comes out with a hidden gem - a bottle of whiskey, cheap but strong. He plunks it on the counter and then starts looking for glasses. "Leave the beer. This sounds like a whiskey kinda conversation," he remarks a little flatly.

After a few moments, pouring two fingers of amber liquid into a pair of plastic cups (they don't have proper glasses for liquor, but he used to swill it out of a tin cup, so this'll do), and holds one out to Ivar. "She chose to leave you two? Walked into the portal herself?" If he sounds disbelieving, it's not because he doesn't believe Ivar - it's because he can hardly believe that a woman would do something like that. "Shit."

[ragnarsson]

Ivar doesn't leave the beer. Instead, he just polishes it off with a few gulps down. He takes the cup of whiskey offered. He drinks a long draught before he continues on. "Up and left me to go to my world. To Kattegat."

He's always struggled to express his emotions. Right now, Ivar feels like he's being pulled in a bunch of different directions. There's anger, shock, resentment, and despair. But mostly, it's just a whole lot of sadness. "I told her I loved her the night before and she did this to me." He slumped forward onto the countertop and buried his face on his folded arms. Ivar's life had always been a bit of a soap opera, but this was just a new dramatic wrinkle to it. He was working his way up to telling Bucky the other part of it, how they'd never slept together until that night either.

[anotheroldsoldier]

Bucky knocks back a shot of whiskey with him, and sets the glass down on the countertop with a clink and a heavy exhale. This is a much heavier conversation than he'd thought to have today. The liquor, at least, soothes the desire to up and run and not face any of this conversation. Ivar needs a friend right now, not a man who's afraid to talk about feelings. "She went back to your world without you. Jesus Christ," he swears, picking up the bottle again to pour another shot. He never knew this woman, but it seems so callous, to go back to your love's world by yourself, to leave your boyfriend alone with the baby in a strange place.

Then he watches Ivar fold over, watches him crumple in a pile of too many awful feelings at once, and he sets the glass down, reaching over to put a hand on his shoulder, heavy and warm. "That's fucked up. I'm sorry she put you through this. Whatever was goin' through her head, you didn't deserve any of this shit."

It seems to hit him then that Ivar has a baby. He's what, sixteen? Alone and heartbroken with a baby. Christ.

For Yuri

[ragnarsson]

For most people, talking to friends after going through a brutal break-up would have been a logical thing to do. But not for Ivar. Feelings were something that happened to other people, not to him. So when he called up one of his very good friends for solace, he did it in his own unique way. "I need to do something. Preferably violent, but I'll take any sort of distraction right now."

Forget about feelings. He needed to go blow something up or get into a bar fight right now. Yuri was just the person for it.

[bespredel]

Yuri was the sort of person who knew when to ask a question, and when to not. Now? With Ivar calling him up asking to blow shit up? That was one of those moments where Yuri knew that asking questions would hinder a hell of a lot more than it helped. He didn't know why the other was in desperate need of blowing shit up and breaking things, but he knew that at the very least- he could provide.

"Are we talking, go out into the jungle and blow up empty termite mounds levels of violence, or find someone to get into a fistfight with levels?" Because one Yuri could provide, and the other... not as much. He wasn't one to pick a fight, just to finish them when it was important to.

"I'll bring the explosives," he added after a moment, wanting the other to know that- no matter what, Yuri was coming; in his corner.

[ragnarsson]

"First one. Then the other. Possibly with getting drunk in the middle there." Alcohol may not have been able to solve all problems, but at least it made the hole in his heart ache a little bit less.

He met up with Yuri near the fence of the city and it was clear something was bothering him a lot. Instead of the usual intense and angry air that Ivar always had about him, he seemed very subdued, his eyes looking sad. He didn't want to talk about what had happened just yet. Right now, he needed to distract himself from his pain.

"Let's do this," he said with far less enthusiasm than he might have had otherwise for one of his favorite hobbies.

[bespredel]

"Okay. I'll be there soon."

And just like that, Yuri had a backpack full of (mostly harmless) explosives slung over his shoulder, a box of matches in his pocket. The hoodie he was wearing was pulled up, the cat ears on his hoodie making his silhouette all the more obvious as he approached the other. It definitely didn't take a behavior analyst to see that the other was bothered by something fiercely, and Yuri couldn't help but wonder what. Of course, coming right out and asking the other was out of the question. That was a good way to earn himself a punch in the mouth, or worse.

"Yeah, okay. There's a spot not too far down that the Perimeter guards will let us through- they know me well enough by now," Yuri shrugged, before waving the other to follow him so that they could head out. Once they were on the other side of the fence though, Yuri started kicking his way through some underbrush, lips pursed as he tried to find a good spot to start causing some chaos that they also wouldn't be bothered by anyone else. Last thing they needed was to get kidnapped by another giant bird, or something.

"There's some dead trees this way, will probably look pretty cool to see them splinter apart when they blow up. Watch your eyes, though," Yuri had brought some sunglasses in his bag for the both of them for just in case. Proper eye wear it was not, but it was definitely better than nothing when it came to possible shrapnel.

[ragnarsson]

Ivar stayed quiet as they made their way to a suitable spot. He was miserable as could be, his thoughts all revolving around Letha. She had left him. He could ask himself why all day long, but the question had no good answer to it. Only she knew the answer. And if she'd wanted to tell him before she left, the necromancer could have. Instead, she'd just selfishly left him to marinate in all the questions and what-ifs his mind could conjure up.

They soon found a good spot to set up their instruments of destruction. Ivar selected one of the biggest explosives, made sure it had a long fuse, and then set it up in the nook of a tree branch. His goal was to see if he could blow the branch clean off the tree. He lit it and then scooted the chair back to a safe distance away. Despite his sadness, there was something he found comforting in mindless destruction. It was a healthier alternative then going and beating the crap out of a few people like he wanted to do.

For Nico

[ragnarsson]

Ivar was waiting outside the communal housing. His face looked grim. Ivar had never been one much for too much joy, but now it looked rather like he'd forgotten how to smile entirely. He had a pair of axes with him, his favorite weapon. Right about now, feeling the satisfaction of slamming them into some big beast's head would do him good.

When Nico arrives, he's ready to go. "Maybe I'll find something to make a rug out of. I need something to match the fur hide I already have on the bed." That, of course like everything else, made him think of Letha. She'd wanted a big black one to look nice for their bedroom. Why did every memory of her have to hurt so much?

[deathkid]

Emerging from the shadow of the communal housing, Nico takes one look at Ivar and feels a pang of sympathy. He knows what it's like to lose a loved one and how angry it can make a person. But he's not here to worry about himself. This is about helping a friend, so he gives Ivar a nod and draws his sword.

"Let's do this," he says, a steely glint in his otherwise colorless eyes. "With luck, we can both get a rug out of this."

And with that, he leads the way to the gate around Quarantine, eager to aid a friend with a bit of bloodshed.

[ragnarsson]

Going out to kill something is as good a distraction as any. At least it's better than sitting at home, crying his eyes out. Ivar doesn't say much at first. It's better just to get into the groove of looking for whatever is out there in the forest. There's nothing at first, which is to be expected. Most of the smarter monsters have learned not to range too close to the city.

Then Ivar spots a promising sight. There's wide tracks there in the mud beside the river, sunk deep into the earth. Something large and heavy with sharp claws came through there not too long ago. "Whatever this is must be huge." Ivar points above them. The twigs of branches above their heads are broken, as if something with a large head and shoulders had bumped against them while the creature was moving through.

[deathkid]

Nico eyes the tracks for a few seconds, shifting his gaze to the broken branches. Yes, the animal must be large, likely carnivorous too, but he has the feeling they'll be able to take it on. With his magic, he could probably take it alone, but he wanted Ivar to have the chance to make the final kill. He needed that release the most.

"Sounds like we have our quarry," he says, a smirk lifting the corners of his lips. This should be good, he thinks. And he thinks it'll be a good distraction too. He closes his eyes for a second and seeks outward with his senses, searching for the beast, but as usual, it's monster soul is impossible to pick up. That's even more good. He doesn't have to worry about it being something like a nature spirit that might be good at heart. It's a monster for sure and the smirk on his lips broadens. "Let's get it."

[ragnarsson]

Tracking is something that Ivar and his brothers have always had a natural talent for. Ivar just rarely got the chance to practice it at home, since hunting required too much mobility for someone who always crawled. Here is different. They follow the tracks out of the mud and back into the forest. The beast has left an easy trail to follow, between the bruised, broken branches and the tracks left in the dirt. It has made no attempt to hide its trail like a prey species might. Clearly, out here, the big beast is at the top of the food chain.

Pretty soon, there's a quarter left of some hooved creature, the creature's last kill. He feels the edge of the carcass. It's cool, but not cold, and the blood has coagulated. "Looks like it came through here not too long ago."

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco knows that there are times when you mind your business, and times when it's the better choice to get involved. Some cases, it's hard to judge which approach is right. Seeing a young stranger crying in public, though? That definitely seems like a situation where concern should come first, rather than privacy.

He's just on his way to his workshop, a coffee in hand, when he passes by Ivar and notices that he is definitely crying. Not stoic crying, either, where it might be better to pretend he doesn't notice. He's bawling, and even though he's a stranger, Cisco stops, turns around and comes back towards him.

The concern is written all over his face, and his voice is soft as he asks: ] Hey, did something happen? Are you okay? You need me to call somebody?

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar already wears his emotions on his sleeve and that's bad enough. He's barely been keeping it together as it is. But someone in the crowd had perfume that smelled just similar enough to Letha's to send him off into another crying jag.

He was also not a quiet crier. Ubbe, his older brother, had once told him he could be heard on the other side of Kattegat when he cried, and he hadn't been joking around at the time. Then someone approached him and Ivar all but wanted to die. As if it wasn't embarrassing enough to display such raw emotion in public, now someone had noticed.

His voice sounded hoarse and gruff as he swiped at his eyes fiercely.]

Fuck off. I'm fine.

[A bigger lie was never told. Ivar was clearly falling to pieces.]

[franciscoramon]

[ Cisco draws back a little, blinking with surprise. At most he'd been expecting embarrassment, a hasty and unconvincing smile and lie. The aggressiveness of Ivar's reply might startle him, but he gets over it at once. Cisco pulls a little travel-pack of tissues from his pocket and tosses it into Ivar's lap. Cisco sets his hands on his hips, an unconscious gesture of frustration, but his voice remains quiet and kind as he insists: ]

Really? 'Cause you don't look fine to me.

[ Just because of how his brain works, Cisco assumes that some of that snappishness might by the result of caution or fear of strangers, rather than a genuine desire to be left alone. Cisco knows he's pretty harmless looking, to most, but perhaps he can do a bit more to dispel some of that worry. ]

Look, I promise I'm not after anything, okay? I just want to help.

[ragnarsson]

[The fact the man doesn't immediately leave him alone aggravates Ivar quite a bit. While he might accept sympathy from his friends, coming from a stranger, he's suspicious and angry. Kindness has always felt too much like pity for him to be comfortable with it.

He does accept the tissues without a word of thanks, using them to wipe at his eyes and running nose. While Cisco's appearance helped to stop most of the flood, there's still a few stray tears threatening to escape.]

There's nothing you can do to help.

[Ivar sounds completely miserable in that overdramatic way that only teenagers can possess.]

[franciscoramon]

[ Well, at least Ivar doesn't throw the tissues back at Cisco; that's a start, at least. Cisco keeps his hands on his hips and considers. He doesn't want to insist that he can help, because it's possible this grief is coming from something really shitty that he can't actually reverse - a death, a breakup, who knows. At the same time... he can't just leave this guy here, miserable, without trying. ]

Maybe. But I can at least listen? Sometimes it's easier to talk about bad stuff to a stranger. Somebody who's not involved, you know. Just kinda get it out of your system.

[ He says it with a tiny shrug; the truth is it doesn't matter to him much one way or another if Ivar tells him what's going on, or even tells him the truth - he just thinks it might be the easiest way to calm him down, to give him some catharsis and perspective on whatever it is. ]

hope this is okay!

[potentialed]

After the successful birth of her child, Stephen had been relieved to see both Letha and her baby leave the hospital in good health. It was rewarding in the way his first successful cases as a doctor had been. By the time September starts to roll around, he thinks the little family is still doing well for themselves. No calls or upset Network posts.

He's not even all that surprised to see Ivar out with the child on his way to the "magic university" as he's heard some people call it. He's got time so he walks up to Ivar, smiling.

"She's gotten bigger already."

[ragnarsson]

As heartbroken as Ivar was about losing Letha, he tried not to let himself dwell too long on it, for then he would fall completely apart. Winter was still here and she needed her father. He looks up at Dr. Strange as he approaches. Despite his internal sadness, there's a gentle and kind look on his face, the kind that almost no one in the Quarantine gets to see.

"Yes. I'm glad. She was so small." Winter is awake and looking around curiously. She's already shown some discomfort to bright sunlight, so she's bundled up pretty well. He takes off the sunhat she has on to run a callused hand over the downy fluff that passes for her hair. "She's so quiet. She almost never cries. Is that usual for a baby?" Ivar, for all his good intentions, was still mostly going by instinct when it came to caring for his daughter. A parenting class or two wouldn't do any harm.

[potentialed]

It's certainly a look Stephen's never seen before. But he's heard about people's worldview changing after having kids. He's glad for it, considering everything Ivar's been through (that he knows of).

He continues over and squats down to get a better look at the child. A little pale but she seems well enough. Shrugging, "It can be, depending on the child. Mostly, babies cry to let us know what they need because that's the only way they can communicate at that age. I've heard of some infants being calmer than others. She might just be that way naturally."

He reaches forward with one hand to gently grab one of her hands between three fingers, checking hers, the digits still much smaller than his own, "Is she eating regularly? Sleeping well?"

[ragnarsson]

"Yes and yes. Well, sleeping by her schedule, anyway." Ivar's got the usual sleep deprivation that new parents go through going on right now. He doesn't mind too much though. He's never had anyone to take care of before, so it's an entirely new experience for him, in a good way.

His eyebrows go up a little when Strange reaches out to touch Winter's fingers. Most people besides him tend to avoid contact with her once he explains how her powers work. "I'd be careful if you touch her. She sometimes drains people if she gets startled or upset." Not that she seems either right now, perfectly content to just look out at the world around her. Her little eyes squint in the bright sunlight, looking up at the doctor.