open log & video!

[karlsefni]

Who: Thorfinn and you!
Where: Outdoors, AT SOME PLACE??? Somewhere. Pick and choose.
When: morning~noon of june 12th, I am flexible.

I'm sure you're sick of the newer arrivals already, right? Sorry to say that this one won't really help you either. With his getup of thick, medieval winter garb, and how he's a little weird in how he moves—cautiously, with erratic changes between walking forward and then whirling around, as if having heard something, even when it seems like there wasn't any noise at all—he's a glaringly obvious anomaly. To make matters worse, or at least a little more complicated, his fists—which repeatedly move up, poising to protect himself or something like that, before returning to a somewhat-neutral position (as neutral as one can be when he seems like he's on a hair-trigger)—have two shortswords planted in them, and while he doesn't look nervous or panicked at all, the sour expression on his unappealing mug and his alertness might be an indication that he's not afraid to use these at any given time, especially to those who might want to approach him.

There is a point, though, when the faint sound of a cell phone ringing can be heard, and he jumps, startled—wildly swirling around to find the noise, only to realize that it's coming from his own pocket. It's then that he throws the cell phone on the ground, which, incidentally causes the following feed:

* * * video * * *

[ while the feed shows nothing but dirt, you can hear someone cursing. ]

What the hell—[ and then a few footsteps, slow and precise, before there's a pause.

and then the feed shifts, like something's poking the phone. ]

.. The hell is this? [ of course, thorfinn isn't one to listen to people's explanations, and as soon as they had told him he was fictional, he'd blocked off whatever other ~helpful~ explanations they'd tried to give him—so it's not surprising that he doesn't know what this is, nor does he have any hold on the situation right now.

another poke, before there's the sound of steel rubbing against dirt; a glint of metal can be seen when the phone flips over, naturally not of its own accord, but of thorfinn's accord. or his knife, rather, as he's handling the phone with nothing but.

something one can notice when they see the boy is, firstly, that he's dirty and bruised, especially in the face, as if still healing from a fight—but his dirtiness isn't merely just from the fight, but years and years of habit and lack of care. rather than a head of hair, he looks like he has a blonde bird's nest, and his brown eyes are barely visible and glaring at the camera, and it's clear that he has.. absolutely no idea what this device is. secondly, while his expression of apparent continual grumpiness and lack of light in his eyes shouldn't belong to any child, he looks to be physically small enough to be one.

with a squint, he crouches near the device, as if having determined that the strange object wasn't going to harm him, and.. pokes it. with the knife. repeatedly, until one of his pokes hits a button and the phone trills, and he moves back instantly, blinking in bewilderment. ]

What in—Odin's name—!?

[ ... another poke, another beep, and more bewilderment. rinse and repeat. ]

* * * end video * * *

... although while you could certainly take the chance to approach him while he's bemused by the smartphone, you could meet him somepoint else in his grumpy walk.

Comments

[ru_fi_oooh]

[While he's fiddling with the phone, a shadow drifts overhead, nothing notable unless he happens to see that the shadow is shaped like a boy.

Rufio is out hunting for Lost Boys. He's not picky; if he can't find any, he'll just recruit some. And this sword-swinging, fur-wearing, messy-haired specimen is far and away his best prospect so far.

So he's sneaking in for a closer look, sword in hand just in case, until he's close enough to hover just overhead and peer over his shoulder.]

What's that?

[karlsefni]

[ unless rufio's able to fly, thorfinn is easily able to hear him approaching—and if he is able to fly, he's observant enough to see the shadow coming, only feigning ignorance until the other is close enough for him to pivot, one knee on the ground as he swings a knife up, just stopping short of flesh as an afterthought. a person he could question? ]

Who the hell are you?

[ru_fi_oooh]

Ha!

[Rufio is, in fact, flying parallel to the ground, about five feet up, and he parries energetically, a broad grin reploacing the curiosity on his face.]

Rufio. I don't usually have to announce it myself. You're pretty good.

[karlsefni]

[ a weapon. a sword. but more importantly—this guy could fly. already an advantage against him (but how is he able to fly), even if he moves away (but how is he able to fly?), and it might not be easy taking him down (but??? how is he able to fly???)

no really how is he able to fly is he a god or something am I up against a god but gods can't fly without animals can they???

... backs up, at least, settling into fighting stance, jaw shut and eyes steeled and glaring daggers. conversation really isn't his forte. ]

[ru_fi_oooh]

You've got one out of three, at least. And I can take care of another, unless you're too thick. Do you crow?

[Not advancing after him, just leaning on one elbow in midair and drifting, sword-arm still extended just in case.]

[karlsefni]

[ well he's certainly not putting his weapons down until rufio does. (shut up I didn't start this) ]

What the hell are you talking about?

[ru_fi_oooh]

You need three things to be a Lost Boy. You need to fight -

[He darts past, slashing playfully but staying out of reach -- even his own blow doesn't come within a foot or two -- and then rising into the air, standing on nothing about twenty feet up.]

You need to fly!

[Then dropping back down, rapidly, sheathing his sword and coming to the ground quite nearby.]

And you need to crow!

[He does so, loudly, grinning broadly at his own demonstration.]

Think you got what it takes?

[karlsefni]

[ bracing for a blow, but when it doesn't come close, he's. confused. ]

.. what? [ what the hell is a lost boy ] What are you—"Lost Boy"?

[ru_fi_oooh]

We play games, we eat what we want, set our own bedtimes, we never do what anybody tells us... and we kill pirates.

Think you're up for it?

[karlsefni]

[ that's enough to get thorfinn completely skeptical, with the understanding that this guy was.. a kid. besides that, he is a pirate.

he stands himself straight up, turning on his heel to move in the direction he came from. ]

Not interested.

[ru_fi_oooh]

You're turning it down? Nobody else is going to offer you a chance to fly!

[karlsefni]

Don't need it. [ .. pausing, to pick up the cell phone thing ... ]

[ru_fi_oooh]

That's fine, then!

Your hair looks stupid, anyway!

[karlsefni]

.... [ stops ] My hair's got nothing to do with this!

[ru_fi_oooh]

I think you just grow it like that to hide what a pinhead you are underneath it!

[karlsefni]

You tryin'a pick a fight!?

[ru_fi_oooh]

Am I likely to get more action back than the last time you picked your nose?

[karlsefni]

[ he whips out his knives anew, settling into a fighting position. ]

Come and get it, bastard.

[ru_fi_oooh]

[He flips up into the air crowing and laughing.]

That's more like it!

[He swoops by, aiming a broad slash, about half-playing.]

[karlsefni]

[ unfortunately Thorfinn's not playing; he ducks from the slash, his own knife slicing upward as soon as he's close enough, in an attempt to cut at his side, just under the arm. ]

[ru_fi_oooh]

[He rolls away in midair, the counterblow catching his shirt but not his flesh.]

Slower than a slug's butt!

[karlsefni]

[ he hisses then, irritated, ] Come down here and fight me like a real man without your stupid flying!

[ru_fi_oooh]

Come up and fight me like a boy, unless you're afraid of dying!

[karlsefni]

I'm no boy, and the only one dying here today'll be you.

[ru_fi_oooh]

You're too short to be anything else!

[After a momentary hesitation.]

How old are you, anyway?

[karlsefni]

Fuck you! Why should I tell you!?

[ru_fi_oooh]

Because! One way you're a roach with a rat nesting on your head, and the other way you're nothing but a pint-sized, puke-faced pirate!

[The last word is yelled. The distinction might not be clear, but it obviously makes a difference to him.]

[karlsefni]

Come say that to my fucking face, kid!

[ru_fi_oooh]

You're a distraction. I've got better things to do.

[And just like that, he's flying away.]

[karlsefni]

FUCK YOU!!

[ he says, while chucking his knife at him. rufio might. find a knife in his back, or maybe it's whizzing past him. thorfinn's very good at hitting his target. ]

[swordhappy]

Of a certainty, Sif finds this whole matter a little strange and more than a little disturbing. First Thor, and then a slew of people, more than she has ever seen. It bodes something, of a certain, but if she knew what- if she knew the purpose of all of this at all- she might have a better idea what to do. Sif always feels as though she must be doing something. Even if that something is watching small (everyone is small, to Sif) children stalk down the streets with swords in hand. From a fair distance. Like across the street.

"Are you waiting to waylay the first passerby, or is there a purpose to your staking the streets? I do not think you will find much in the way of worthy forces to menace here."

She's not including herself. One, she is not responsible, and two, worthy she might be, but she is also quite sure he could pose no more threat to her than a fly.

[karlsefni]

To be entirely fair to Sif, Thorfinn is small by normal people standards as well, his full height being roughly 5'2". It takes a moment for him to realize that she's addressing her, although not due to ignorance; rather, he's unused to people talking to him of their own accord, much less a woman.

Still, this person is already unusual; he's got a knack for sensing who the dangerous people are, and this woman is at least caution-worthy. He pauses, weighing the two in his mind—conversation or continuing on?

To engage would mean he'd have to respond, and idle conversation isn't what he's searching for. Thorfinn moves on, giving nothing more than a once-over to the lady before he starts walking again.

[coimiceoir]

Racing along the rooftops, occasionally leaping to swing 'round a flagpole or somersault to a new building, a little pale girl with long white hair was busy keeping an eye out for people she knew. Or at least someone interesting! And that was definitely someone interesting. He could be from her time, wearing what he is. Not one of her people, but perhaps someone acquainted with them.

She hops down to a lamppost some few yards further ahead in his path, staying out of immediate reach of those blades.

"What are you doing?"

[karlsefni]

He catches her hopping down to the lamppost, steeling himself for a fight before registering that the unknown is—a girl. Still, he keeps position for a brief moment, looking her over; is she dangerous?

No, she probably isn't, he decides as he brings his knives down. Of course there are people here, this looks like.. well, it doesn't look like some sort of human civilization but maybe something of the gods, and he could buy that this girl wasn't human, maybe. Even so, he isn't about to start answering to anyone when he has questions of his own.

"Who the hell are you?"

[coimiceoir]

She grins, sitting on the lamppost crossbar to swing her legs and lean out toward him. Well this could be fun. How long can they go without actually answering each other's questions? She makes a private bet with herself and cocks her head coyly.

"That's telling. You're new here, aren't you?"

[karlsefni]

He levels a glare at her in response to the answer, and weighs his options. She already sounds more like a pain than she's worth, and he's not willing to put up with that. Instead of answering, he turns his head, moving away. As far as he's concerned, if she won't be useful, the conversation is over.

i am late but i am great.

[badnewsboy]

Who was that blond person and what were they doing to their Midgardian communication device? This is Loki's wandering time—especially with so many on the island now—he had to recklessly walk into anything the island would give him, eh? And the island seemed to deliver.

He goes to crouch beside him, looking at the phone.

"You will have to try much harder to smite it."

[karlsefni]

It's not as if he didn't notice Loki—no, he can hear well enough and immediately moves away accordingly, knife pointing toward him instead of the phone. Maybe he could smite this one better than he could smite the ph—I mean.

But he does frown; perhaps if he wasn't the way he is, he'd have become embarrassed, but Thorfinn shows no such display now. Instead, he eyes the boy suspiciously, his knife very close to Loki's neck, and when he speaks, it's in a cold tone.

"What do you want?"

[badnewsboy]

Whoops. Okay, somewhere along the way that seemed to have been a bad idea. Loki offers a hesitant but friendly smile, immediately holding up his hands to show that he's unarmed. Nope, nope, let's not take chances with this one. There's been plenty of knives to his throat, and he knows how to somewhat handle such situations with his Loki-like delicacy.

"Er--I'm being a friendly citizen. I saw you needed aid with your technology and thought to help. Really! There are no suspicious intentions at all!

"You're really not going to be able to call people that way."

[karlsefni]

....well he does need information. He doesn't raise the knife—nut he doesn't lower it either. With an impatient but curious look, he snaps, " Call?"

[badnewsboy]

"Aye, that's what such an obviously complicated device is used for." His eyes go from Thorfinn to the knife to Thorfinn and to the knife again.

He didn't even do anything this time!

"This isle seems to be overrun with newcomers, you see. We call them 'newbies.'"

[karlsefni]

He still doesn't understand, and it's apparent when he next speaks, very skeptically.

"So this," a gesture to the cell phone with his other hand, "Is used to summon 'newbies'?"

[badnewsboy]

Loki's still holding his hands up.

"It's a device used to communicate. You may communicate with other newbies, if that's what you wish. It's a Midgardian communication device. Very popular."

[karlsefni]

"Never seen it." .. but he is a little more interested in the device now, and he moves slowly to pick it up, still focusing the knife on Loki's neck.

"So it's a creature. That's why it squeals?"

[badnewsboy]

Gahhhh!

"This is getting a bit barbaric, isn't it? I could aid you, or perhaps demonstrate. It's a bit difficult from here, with the whole knife to my throat."

[karlsefni]

There's a pause at that thought. Could he trust this shrimp? .. well, he's shorter than him, physically weaker than him, most likely—and if it'll get him more information, well.

He lowers the knife, standing more neutrally now.

"Then, show me."

[badnewsboy]

Loki keeps his hands up as he approaches slowly. First one leg, then the other, as if it were some kind of awful awkward leg dance.

He holds out one of his lifted hands for the phone.

"Ah, I'll need to see it first."

There was always someone out there who wanted to stab him.

[karlsefni]

If Thorfinn had any sort of appreciation for humorous things, he might have laughed at Loki, because it was certainly a funny sight. But he doesn't—not even a crack of a sneer. Instead, he tosses the phone at him, a little carelessly, but what does he know about the value of electronics? More importantly, he still watches him, knives out and at the ready. While they may not be in his face, Thorfinn's certain he can close the distance fast enough for it not to matter.