Video - Day 412

[snowcrow]

[Welcome to Jon's face. It's not a particularly happy face. In fact, it looks pretty sour at the moment. He really hates having to use the bracelet, but he has a very important announcement to make.]

This is a message to the gods that have stolen us and brought us here.

[He has no actual knowledge of who the gods are or if they even care about their charges, but as they seem to have more of a hand in the affairs of others than his own gods, he'll see if a direct approach works.]

During the... incident which had your blasted magic working ill against those you gave it to, my brother wound up losing his hand. Due to your ineptitude and this unwanted sorcery, he has a stump where a perfectly fine hand was before. What sort of gods give people powers they don't ask for? It's bad enough you've brought children here, but you seem not to care about the ill effects of your war on those that are hale enough here to fight it.

[The sour look is directed more intensely at the screen now.]

I insist you fix it. I've gone to your temples and asked for this, but as it's seemed to fall on deaf ears, perhaps you need it shouted in your face.

Fix my brother or you'll have me to deal with and Asgard's gods will join him in missing body parts.

[Caw caw, motherfucker.]

Comments

[subecho]

Though - forgive me - I do not think your odds stand kind.

[snowcrow]

My odds never seem to be good, and yet... Here I am.

[subecho]

Strong words for a boy.

[snowcrow]

[That pricked his pride a little.]

I'm no boy. I'm a brother of the Night's Watch.

[subecho]

And how many hundreds of years have you under your belt?

[snowcrow]

... No one has hundreds of years under their belt. Not reaching that doesn't make me a boy.

[subecho]

No one...?

[snowcrow]

No one where I've come from. I've yet to meet anyone that's reached the century mark.

[subecho]

You have.

[snowcrow]

If you're talking about the 'gods' here... I'm not sure I count them.

[Give him a few moments, Thor. He was distracted (and slow)]

[subecho]

Think... a little closer.

[snowcrow]

[He's frowning at the man, but it's the smile that clues him in, that and the mention of him being from a similar place.]

Are you saying you're over a century?

[subecho]

Give or take a few more.

[ Wait. ]

Did you think me a child?

[snowcrow]

No. Why would I have? You look much older than thirteen, which would be the age I'd consider a boy to start becoming a man.

[subecho]

I would think a man before his first hundred a boy.

[snowcrow]

... Perhaps where you're from, that's...

[Strange? Wrong? Completely unheard of? Possibly.]

As it goes. But where I'm from, a boy starts to become a man after his thirteenth year. Some are married off and enhancing their line by then, though it's not as common as waiting till they're in their fifteenth or sixteenth year.

[subecho]

Little wonder you grow so small, when you wed as children.

[snowcrow]

We're not small.

[Rude, Thor.]

[subecho]

Of course, little friend.

[snowcrow]

You're taking the piss.

[subecho]

Would I do such a thing, friend?

[snowcrow]

I don't think I know you well enough to properly answer that.

[subecho]

Courtesy would have the answer be "yes."

[snowcrow]

Ah, but we are at war, and courtesy has no place on the battlefield.