[Eridan is admiring his new bracelet, twisting and turning it to watch the stone set in the middle shimmer. He pauses, tapping at the center of the stone before addressing the screen, his entire demeanor radiating barely controlled rage and indignation.]

Wwhat the fuck is goin on here? Maybe you havven't heard a me, but, believve me, I am a seriously important troll an you're goin to rue the day you messed with Eridan Ampora. So wwhy don't you just go ahead an showw yourself an stop bein a fuckin cowward.

I don't blame you for hidin though, 'cause once I find wwhoevver is fuckin with me, you're dead.

[Suddenly occuring to him that his words might be more apt than he originally thought, Eridan is uncharacteristically struck silent for a moment. After all, he was dead. Not many trolls, even ones as talented as him, could survive being chainsawed in half. He'd been d-e-a-d dead and, now, well, he was here. Maybe this was some sort of afterlife... He dismisses the idea almost immediately with a visible shake of his head. This is stupid. Magic doesn't exist and these gods don't exist and... Right, getting back to the point. He taps at the bracelet again.]

I mean, at least you “gods” havve an appreciation for the finer things in life, but Eridan Ampora is nobody's toy. Least a all a bunch a shoddy magicians or wwizards or wwhatevver you wanna call yourselvves. Evveryone knows that magic isn't real. So, nice try, but  I'm not buyin it. Game's ovver.

[Secure in his victory over whatever charlatans are trying to pull the wool over his eyes, a smirking Eridan shuts off the video feed. Or at least he attempts to but only manages to change the video screen size. He curses, spluttering in frustration as he pushes buttons randomly until the bracelet finally turns off. So much for his attempt at coolkid status.]

[What you see today is a fair maiden wrapped up and looking irritated. Ah, she's new! you must be thinking. After all, new faces appearing on the network looking grumpy are normal in Asgard. It comes with being snatched and told to make things 'colorful'. The room however is a bit familiar-- and the French accent is horribly thick, which is discovered after she has adjusted the camera well enough to not just shoot them ample planes. If you get my drift.]

I do not know where I should be starting...  For once I am what some would call pleasantly speechless.

[She laughs, but it's not quite humored. This feels very wrong, Asgard. Very wrong indeed.]

Well, non. I am not completely speechless, though my thoughts are hardly pleasant. I am not meant to be a woman! I am meant to adore and admire them but be beside them. The entirety of my existence has been in the body of a man, though, as you can clearly see, only my mind seems to be ah. Correct.

Regardez-moi! I ...jiggle. I am France; I am not meant to jiggle!

[France is sincerely second-guessing the idea of sleeping in the nude. It was not a good wake up call. ]

(ooc: I'll be using the journal sanscoq  to thread out for the remainder of the month. Then I'll be nice and make him less ...robust.)

 

[Some might have noticed that Draco has made himself quite scarce lately...scarce to the point he really didn't even leave Baldr house or communicate over the bracelets for a period of time. And why would someone like Draco, someone who's entirely too nosy and vocal for his own good sometimes, ignore everyone entirely?

Simply because, dear Asgard, Draco wanted to run a few tests and immerse himself further into his research. He's very aware of the happenings of Asgard, very aware of the house olympics, very aware of the bodyswapping shenanigans that occurred, very aware of the traveller's festival, yes, fine, whatever. But really, what did it matter in the long run?

The bracelet feed comes on today to show Draco sitting crosslegged and more or less levitating in the air. His powers still haven't advanced, and it's starting to really bother him considering some like Jade have surpassed him tremendously.]

Morning, Asgard. Tell me, what's the worst thing that could possibly happen if you become a complete and total shut in? No reason, of course, just curious.

[Yes, never mind the stack of notes and charts and books scattered around his room. No reason, really.]

On the other hand, what's the worst thing that could happen if you actively put yourself right in the line of fire by being everywhere you possibly can in the city while talking to everyone you possibly can? You're all in luck, I actually care about your opinions today.

[ (ooc note; this stupid beefcake post has been brought to you by terrible enabler jerks on plurk, and is essentially my last hurrah here at asgard, before i sadly need to drop to make time for school.)

i'm sure many of you have met pabu. or at least seen him around. he's a cutie. and bolin's! not mako's. but for some reason... he's chewing on mako's bracelet. the video is nothing but russet red fur, a flash of striped tail, and the ocasional shot of freya district's disticnt pink interior decorating. mako's room then, maybe?

there's sound of a door opening, and — okay look. mako was trying to be the the most disecret piece of ass here in the city of asses. he really did try. really. (no that's a lie, he just had no idea he counted.) this is unacceptable, do you know how much great and hideous cr could come of this? NOTHING GOOD CAN COME OF THIS and so of course that is why this has to happen. beautiful mako problems need to happen.

ANYWAY. the sound of the door opening, and a short, ]

Pabu? What're you doing in here, huh?

[ pabu abandons the bracelet in favor of saying hi to mako, and the bracelet. well the bracelet just sits on the bed while pabu skitters off to climb the dresser and say hi to mako.

( hi mako. )

i see you've just gotten out of the shower or something. it's nice to see you this morning. really. nice towel.

the firebender stifles a yawn (seriously, man? it's like eleven in the morning. seriously?) and scuffs his fingers through messy and still damp hair, leaning against the dresser as the little ferret bumps against his shoulder, asking to be pet. mako complies, nicking pabu under his muzzle before running his hand down his back, smiling softly. (THAT'S RIGHT, SMILING. THIS POST IS FULL OF FIRSTS FOR A LOT OF PEOPLE...) ]

You know this isn't Bo's room. What's your deal, buddy?

[ the ferret chitters, nuzzling mako's shoulder again, who sighs, but continues to comply. oh my god this is not a quality post at all. why am i doing this!!?? ugh.

the feed times out after about half a minute, in the middle of mako talking to a. ferret. about what he's going to make for dinner. (something about five flavor soup?)

mako is not only a secret piece of ass. he's also a not secret housewife. who had plans for dinner, apparently.

HAVE AT HIM ]