asgardeventide | d499

[Freya is sitting, calm and regal, on an exquisitely carved chair of ancient wood, flowing blue tapestries hanging behind her. There's some kind of mutant rabbit in her lap, and she's holding it in place with gloved hands.] Travelers. You may have noticed a new addition to our fine city. It has fallen upon you to- [Her eyes dart away, and she turns her head to look with obvious worry at something off screen-] Freyr. Freyr, stop-

[ And Freyr's head comes into view, just at the edge of the screen. He is crouched down, touching the arm of Freya's chair to brace himself as he leans dangerously close to the animal. ] Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to get too close -- [ He's not looking at the bracelet, but the excitement in his tone seems to suggest he's addressing it, anyway. ] They're brand new creatures, really, truly new things, right from this world, so please be kind to them.... [ And he trails off, distracted, as he seems to try to line his face up with the animal's. Their noses are inches apart. Freyr wiggles his, delighted. ]

[Freya picks the rabbit up and moves it onto a nearby table, away from Freyr. She says, tone pointed,] Don't touch it. [And, looking back to her audience-] Them. The experience is highly- highly unrecommended.

[ Freyr's face falls into an expression of disappointment, before he stands and follows after her. ] I think most of you agreed on Longtoothed Reinhare, so: Miss Lovegood, thank you very much for that suggestion. [ Yeah, the disappointment is already gone. He simply seems brightly cheerful again now. ] Do you have any questions, or...? Please do ask.

[Freya continues:] Yes, please do ask, if- Freyr! Freyr, be careful- [And the video ends.]

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Oh, my! What darling little creatures. [and look who has one, too, gosh.]

But whatever do you mean, "from this world?" Is there something odd about that?

And why is it a bad idea to touch them? [says the woman who's almost always wearing gloves.]

[ And Freyr is still beaming, brightly and earnestly at her. ]

It just feels like it's been so long since this world has birthed anything new of its own. It's exciting to me.

[Freya appears back in the screen, looking a little harried. (Lol, harried.) Which is to say, a single hair is slightly out of place. Her brow may even be slightly creased.]

Because, of course, simply doing as I ask is beyond the pale?

[Here, Freya, have a raised eyebrow. Is this how you treat a simple question from a subject?]

Goodness, did I ever say that? Hardly. I merely wish to know what it is. I am nearly always gloved, of course, but many of my fellows are not.

[a light laugh. His enthusiasm is catching.]

I wonder what brought them about. They are quite curious things. [And her own pet nuzzles her hand, bringing fourth another smile.] And sweet.

[The apocalypse is rly stressful, ok?? Her Diplomatic Smile is a tad strained.]

Then perhaps your fellows would do well to follow your example.

They are, aren't they? So trusting.

[ Oh, he needs some gloves so he can hold his own!! ]

Are you going to keep it?

And they're quite docile and obedient. This little one isn't requiring much training at all.

I am. I could certainly use the company. [Guess who's running herself ragged with the preparations for the investigations]

[Okay, she's an aristocrat. She gets that smile, man.]

Milady? ... Are you alright?

[She thinks she knows the answer already, but it would do little help if she were to presume.]

[ Freyr's own expression softens a bit at that remark, and he lifts his head to consider her with a gentle curiosity. ]

He may be a bit short on the 'conversation' department.

[ Forever amused by his patron yep (also it makes for a good distraction from the scenery) ]

Milady is Lord Freyr well? He seems... mm, surprisingly enamoured of the new additions to the city.

[she laughs a little lightly]

Oh, of course! I am not expecting that out of the silly darling. [But she does believe this one may be a "she"; who can tell?]

Edited 2014-08-22 02:18 (UTC)

Mm, of course.

[ His expression may be a little more serious, but his smile his still shyly encouraging. ]

You've been working hard, young miss. It's more appreciated than you could ever know.

Why wouldn't I be alright?

[ :'D ]

[Freya's smile stays firmly in place. Far be it from her to crack and lower morale, or... however that works.]

Quite as fine as one can be amidst the background of the fracturing world tree, I should hope.

Good meeting milord! [ ARE WE SURE WHO IS THE OLDER HERE ] No, tis only that your lady sister seems... perhaps a trifle concerned about you.

They are no harm then, these new beasts?

[Freya appears moments later, holding a rabbit. It's flapping its wings in agitation, and Freya is forced to hold it at an awkward angle as not to let it touch her bare skin. There are feathers in her hair, and they don't match her eyes, or her dress.]

Surprising? You remain ever the optimist, Maglor. It's quite appreciated, rest assured.

[She softens, shyly, at his expression, closing her eyes for a moment. War - even the preparations regarding it - was hell]

Why, naturally. I can only hope that it is not in vain.

[Spoken like a true aristocrat. Maribelle can respect that.]

Well, yes, of course.

[And then there is steel and determination in her voice.]

It may fracture, but it shall not break. [Even if she has to die to make sure of that.]

It isn't.

[ Freyr's answer comes immediately, firmly - but it's with a soft bubble of earnestness. There is neither scorn nor fear in his face. ]

Not a bit of this is in vain. You - all of you - make a difference.

Well, not entirely perhaps [ He cedes with a soft amused hum ]

Will you be well yourself, milady? [ You seem stressed he is too polite to outwardly voice ]

Good meeting!

[ With all the warmth from before. ]

And, oh, pay no mind to her. [ His face full of fondness: ] She's simply jealous that it likes me more than her.

Oh... thank you. To tell you the truth, I am beginning to doubt.

[She always does, right before the storm, but she perseveres nonetheless.]

I do hope so.

Perhaps? Perhaps you would prefer to suck the melancholy out of a song, as weasels do yolk from eggs. [Three thousand years with the god of poetry as your twin brother rubs off on you, okay.] Perhaps I would prefer you cheered.

[Because, clearly, that's a concern of Maglor's.]

I am quite well, and I do thank you for asking. How do you fare in this troubled time?

[Freya's smile becomes, perhaps, a tad more genuine.] Of course.

Tell me, Mirabelle. Have you prepared for the coming strife?

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