asgardeventide | ϟ 001 ϟ VIDEO

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ϟ 001 ϟ VIDEO

[ There's a new face on the Network today, but he doesn't bother with an introduction. He looks serious, gets right down to business. ]

Hey, I've got a question for everyone.

Where can I find a wheelchair? Preferably a motorized one.

The sooner, the better.

Thanks.

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You'll... what?

[ He hasn't been here long enough to recognize what's going on immediately, but he's quick on the uptake, and suddenly it clicks.

And suddenly, he looks angry. ]

Who are you?

[ He is used to the anger by now, and he seems almost abashed before he answers. ]

Freyr.

[ So he was right. Killua's eyes narrow as he leans in as if to get a better look, and the coldness in his voice sounds like it could freeze the air between them even through the projected screens. ]

You're one of those Gods.

[ He takes a quiet and very carefully measured breath. ]

I am.

[ Freyr cuts his eyes down, then, expression uneasy. ]

I would like to help your friend.

Oh, yeah? Now you want to help him?

[ Good. Everything about Killua's expression says he should be uneasy. He should be fucking terrified.

It's not a look that seems like it should belong in the eyes of a boy this young, but Killua is exceedingly good at it. ]

Did you know that you and your God buddies, or whatever they are-- You dropped a kid who can't even stand in the middle of your stupid war, in the middle of a snowstorm, and you left him there to freeze? Someone didn't think that one through.

Assholes.

[ He reaches over to mess with the settings, jaw tight. He hadn't realized how truly angry he was until this moment, and it's hard to reign it in.

The video message switches to

PRIVATE. ]

His name is Bran Stark. He's in Hel House. Don't just show up. I'm going to tell him you're coming.

But first, I need you to tell me what you plan to do.

[ Freyr won't argue, because he knows that he can't. He knows, knows that any justifications he gives will be seen as nothing but excuses. Knows that he can't sell this war when the circumstances that they're putting the Travelers through pains even him.

It would have been an insult to feed him excuses, but an even more unforgivable one to push ones that he doesn't believe in himself onto the boy.

So he'll just wait until the message has been made private, and focus on the last bit. ]

I will bring him a chair. A motorized one, and make sure that he is able to use it. [ Because some people aren't from worlds with things like that. ] I'd like to make sure his door is wide enough, too, and that his bed is close to the ground- ah, that he's near the elevator, if he's not on the first floor. Just-

[ A swallow. He wishes he could fix this, but he can't - so instead, he'll just try to firm up a little as he cuts his eyes back up to Killua. ]

What I can do to make his stay easier.

[ Though the coldness doesn't fade from his eyes, the anger slowly simmers down, lets him take a deep breath and spare a curt nod in the direction of the screen. It's a start.

The genuine concern--and regret--in the God's eyes and voice throws him off. This wasn't what he expected any of them to be like. ]

He's on the first floor, at least. Don't know about the door.

He doesn't understand technology, so make it easy to use.

[ Freyr never expects it to fade. He often tries to fathom the confusion, what having your free will ripped away from you must feel like - and he can't. Similarly, he can't imagine how any of them might ever come round to forgiving them, despite the desperation behind their acts.

Was it necessary? Absolutely. Did it justify what they did? He wasn't sure. ]

I will. If he's willing to meet with me, please let me know.

Fine.

I'll talk to him and leave you a message.

If you've got a bracelet, you must have a voicemail too, right?

I do. I'll keep my bracelet close.

I'll be in touch.

[ There's no thank-you or even a goodbye. Killua hangs up with a last, warning look, and the screen goes black. ]

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