[ The video starts a bit before Arthur intends for it to, with him sitting in Very Serious Contemplation. Something on his mind, perhaps, but it's not important, not like what he actually came here to do. ]

As many of you have come to notice of late, the need to be capable of defending ourselves becomes more prudent with every passing day. And so it is that I would like to introduce myself to you once more.

[ A beat, the first time he's hesitated in an address like this, and he's made about ten of them. ]

I am Arthur Pendragon, and for those of you new to Asgard or as yet unfamiliar with me, I own and operate the Citadel in the Thor district. We offer training in various forms of combat, from standard self-defence to swordsmanship, and in recent - reconstructions - I have modified the firing range for both archery and marksmanship.

[ Yes, it took two years for Arthur to accept guns into the Citadel. Don't offend his delicate medieval sensibilities!! He looks distracted again for a second before adding, a bit more subdued: ]

Please do come and join us. Payment is negotiable, as I'd prefer to see you well learned and ready above all else. I am also looking for new instructors, as we've had many departures of late. If you're interested, please contact me privately to discuss the - matters.

[ The thing, the thing; what a lame finish. His brows furrow, and that niggling thought just won't quit. He eventually blurts it out, all air of formality and serious business gone. ]

I - [ H U F F ] - this is. Entirely unrelated, but I've been made to wonder and I can't quite wrap my mind around -

[ huff huff Stop rambling, get on with it, etc etc. ]

How many among you doubt me when I claim the name of King Arthur? I'd been told there are ... tales, of my kingdom and my quests, but I wasn't aware there was any question as to my existence until -

[ Until Spike. Everything is Spike's fault. Arthur frowns. ]

Never mind. It's not important. Come to the Citadel to learn your defences. Thank you.

[ wow much serious very business what a finish wow. ]

[ ooc; The link is not IC and is just for OOC reference! If you're interested in having your character teach some things, please hit me up on that post or on plurk first so we can figure things out. If you're a current instructor, please tell me if I got anything wrong on the info page, it's the first time I've updated in months and months cries. This post is silly and I apologise. ]

[The video feed sits at an awkward angle when it starts up and focuses, catching Desmond's chest and the bottom half of his face, pallid and blue-lipped as if just in from time spent in a deep freeze. The scar on his mouth is split and oozing again when he talks urgently, shivering, an ugly red stain that's dripped down into his collar, marring the once-clean white of his robes. ]

W-We need help- Thia-Thi- [ It's difficult to speak, his tongue feels heavy and uncooperative, his voice hoarse from screams that had gone unheeded. He sways in the saddle, his vision swimming in a sea of darting red and black shapes, forcing himself to find words as he grits his reddened teeth. ]

Thiazi, she...she let us g-go we're...I think...Utgard, on the road back I-I-

[ We have to make it, have to-

There's a distinct 'whump!' off-camera, and he looks over to his right sharply, crying out painfully, anguished, ]

Shit, no!

[ The feed suddenly shakes with his movement, but things go pear-shaped when the video abruptly spin head over heels, cartwheeling a dizzying view of sky, road and horse, and the camera cuts out with another, closer thump. ]



(( OOC Notes:

Okay so a few things! Altaïr, Connor, Desmond and Ezio are back from getting their asses handed to them by Thiazi. There will be a subthread for their rescuers and 4-6 character limit on those who'd like riding to their aid, just to keep things manageable. Since that's capped, if your character would still like to come by in person to tell them just how incredibly stupid they were trying to sneak around Thiazi, there's also another subthread herein for them while they recover in hospital. \o/ Whew!

There will be a delay in IC bracelet replies because the boys need some game time to heal. Rest assured they'll get to all of them when they're reasonably able! ))

[The attack is over. The city is quietly, sadly rebuilding.

Meanwhile, there are two teenage boys walking through the park toward the lake, their bodies quite close together - in fact, a more careful look will reveal that they’re holding hands. Not that shocking for Asgard, unless you recognise the broad shoulders and curly blonde hair of one or the small stature and swaggering walk of the other. Or, heaven forbid, you recognise both.

With their arms entwined as they are, their bracelets knock together frequently, so it’s inevitable that they end up with the Asgard equivalent of a butt-dial - except that it’s broadcasting to everyone, nothing but a video of two male hands until they reach the lake and a strange voice speaks up.]

Cocksuckers! Fucking assholes!

Dude - did the lake just swear at us? [There’s a more familiar voice for anyone who frequents the network. It’s surprised, but also unusually gentle.]

...Yeah. I think it just did, man. [Not quite as familiar of a voice, but it's equally as gentle. The hands disentwine, and as the owner of the broadcasting bracelet lifts his arm to deliver a middle finger to the lake, Pyro and Bobby’s faces finally become visible.]

Fuck you too, lake! [He can’t take it seriously though, just more weird Asgard bullshit, so he quickly dissolves into laughter. Bright, cheerful laughter. It’s almost eerie for those who haven’t heard it before.]

You sure showed it. [There's chuckling from the other boy as well.] A cussing lake, huh. Just when you thought this place couldn't be weirder.

You love it when I defend your honor. [... okay, they tease one another when they’re getting along, but that’s as strange as the intertwined hands. And speaking of hands, Pyro will be running one lightly over Bobby’s hair, toying with a stray curl.]

[A laugh.] My knight in shining armor. [His smile brightens when Pyro touches his hair, and he leans in slightly. And that is when John Allerdyce and Bobby Drake kiss for all of Asgard to see.

Euri’s fanfiction come to life? Or just a really, really bad curse? Only one way to find out.]

((ooc: open to network or in-person interaction; network will be separate responses from Bobby and Pyro, in-person threaded in a (your character) - Bobby - Pyro order. yeah, they are cursed right out of their minds.))

[ she's been laying low for the night, after the life was breathed back into her body from the gods, the last words she heard echoing in her ears. this is your penance; damning and deserved, the last thing that she could focus on as she crawled across the cold ground towards her bracelet, trying to reach someone before --

it had been too late. everything had gone dark. she hadn't saved a damn person and now it seemed like she never would. maybe he'd been right to do what he did to her; but there were still people she had to protect. moving through the mess of the city paralyzed by fear, she recovered her weapons from the bar where she worked, careful to keep out of the way of anyone who knew her. she wasn't ready to reveal herself yet.

it was only after she was fully armed, suited up that she opened a channel to the network, one of the rare times she actually showed her face - mostly for the benefit of the avengers, assassins and connor and dean. ]

I'm back. [ terse, short words. ] I'm ready. What's the damage?

[ filtered to tony stark, bruce banner, steve rogers ]

current positions and status? were any of you taken out in the attack?

[When Henry appears on the feed, he's somewhat bloodied up. There's claw marks on his face, bloody punctures at his throat and along one arm, as if he'd been attacked by some large predator. He doesn't look to be in any serious danger, though, and he grins up at the video with his usual sort of good nature.]

Hey guys! So who else has been having an extra murderous fantasy or five? You know, really-kind-of-awesome intrusive thoughts, when you're talking to someone, and suddenly want to rip their head off? Or peel back the skin of their face 'cause it looks soft, or slit their ankles open or--

Well, you get my meaning! And sure, most of that's normal enough to think, but not this much! And since no one else's gonna come out and ask, I will--

Isn't it great?

[The laughter there's enthusiastic too, maybe too much. It's hard to tell over the feed, but he looks a bit underslept.]

I guess I mean- how weird is this, huh? From the people I've talked to, it's not just me being a bit more bloody-minded either! Soooooo I was wondering how widespread this really was! And if it's gone beyond crazy thoughts.

Like, I think I broke into someone's house and smashed their stuff, so if that was yours- uh, sorry about that.

Maybe someone put something in the water again. Other than that, I'm totally out of theories!

[Henry seems about to shut it off there, but there's a scratching noise behind him, and he sighs.]

One last thing- anyone else having a liiiittle bit of trouble with their powers today?

[He twists the camera around, to show a large, three-legged shadow-wolf lurking, scraping its way along the ground towards him. Its remaining limbs are twisted up, and just watching it walk is uncomfortable. Limp, crow-like wings sprout from behind its shoulderblades, and drag uselessly at the dirt. There's blood spattered around, along its muzzle; whatever this thing was, it wasn't friendly.]

...I made that, but I wasn't trying to. And it's not listening to me either- kind of weird, huh?

[In one corner there's a small pile of fluff, just barely visible. Worn and repaired a half dozen times at least, if somebody got close enough to hold it they'd easy feel the stitches that reunited one ear with the rest of it. Poorly done stitches at that. Child-like, even. But incredibly determined. It's clearly showing it's age with an apparent need for glasses. At least it's not bifocals.

His name is Feigenbaum.

And Fred had pretty much counted on never seeing him again.

He'd kept her company on that incredibly long drive into L.A., a familiar face to come home to when everything else was so new and different. Heck, without him it wasn't even home. Just an unfamiliar bed topped with unfamiliar sheets in an unfamiliar house. All of it, smelling like nothing. That's one of the hardest parts, she thinks then, curling up at night and being surrounded by things that all smell like nothing. That made her feel nothing. Everything except for him.

And then, suddenly, she was nothing. (Because when you forget your own name, that's a lot how it feels) For five years it was a different kind of emptiness until they came and brought her back. Back, not home. Because Fred had been absolutely certain home wasn't something she was meant for anymore. She didn't fit into the spaces that she'd left behind. She was the unfamiliar thing now.

But somehow they found her anyway. And somehow they still knew. And even if it wasn't alright? It was better And better felt like a whole heck of a lot. The next time her folks came to visit they brought Fiegenbaum with them, and it was only right then as Mama pressed him into her hands that Fred remembers properly thinking of their version of the story.

A daughter, suddenly gone. Having to make that same trip into L.A. only with just their own thoughts and fears as company. And finally having to pack up her things, to bring them back home instead of her. He feels branded with it now, Feigenbaum. Somewhere in all his mottled fur and wide-set eyes, it's there. All those feelings. Hers, and theirs.

And her folks feel incredibly far away]

Why do the things that make us feel better make us feel so much worse?

[Fred blinks, as if realizing what she's doing]

...and why am I even rambling about this here?

I'm sorry to sound like a bother, but I was wondering if anyone would be interested in teaching me how to make swords and other weapons and armor that requires a blacksmith? At home, my father was a very successful blacksmith, and I was able to learn some from him; however, I have been out of practice, since I have not been around a blacksmith here.

Also, if it is not too much trouble, I would like to learn how to properly use a sword. Being around them my whole life means I do know how to carry one, but I have never been properly trained.

There isn't much I can do in return, but I am a very skilled seamstress, and as a servant, I have other skills, like cooking and cleaning, to repay for any help. [aka She doesn't really have money.]

Thank you so much.

[ When the video starts, Gunn will just seem surprised that it's working at all. ]

Man, I am getting pretty tired of fighting other people's wars. Is what they said true? There's gotta be some sort of portal or spell or - something. I mean, as far as 'other dimensions' go, this one ain't half bad, but I've got shit to do in mine, thanks.

There a magic shop anywhere? Or just books of.. spells or whatever.

[ Which would be nigh incomprehensible without Fred, but he'd muddle through it if that's what it took to get home. ]

-- right, uh, thanks in advance, I guess.

No. No. NO!

[The video is an absolute blur, but there is definitely destruction happening. The tinkle of broken glass, loud thumps and cracks that sound a lot like furniture being hit with blunt objects - anything you'd associate with a house being utterly totalled from the inside can be heard through the maelstrom.

Then it stills, and one red-faced, absolutely apoplectic Pyro is visible in the middle of his path of destruction.]

You assholes. You stupid fucking assholes. If you were so almighty, we wouldn't be any threat to you, would we? So why the hell take them away? Curse me. Make me think I'm Stryker, I don't care. Just bring them back, and do it now.

[It doesn't matter how many times he's told others that people come back. That's it's random. That they're better off. This is his fucking leader and second-in-command, two of the mutants he admires above all others, and they're both gone. If someone doesn't talk him down soon, he'll be paying off the damages on a burnt-down paid residence for the rest of his time in Asgard.]

((ooc: backtags are coming, but this huge of a drop had to be referenced. also, if any gods want to garnish his wages for the damage or anything, consequences are obviously expected for this.))

How's everyone feeling?

[Pyro is covered in blood: mostly on his hands and up his arms, but there are sprays of it across his shirt and pants as well. Hard to say if it's someone else's or his, given his ability, but there are no tears or holes in his clothing. He wears a false smile, which drops as quickly as it appeared.]

Some of you got exactly what you deserved, and you know damn well who you are. But once the water's clean, there won't be any more trouble for now. The spy's done. [His hands flex and clench, as though he's still got some punching he'd like to do.] You're fucking welcome.

Guys? Anything you wanna add?

[Altair shakes his head and remains silent, but Thor does have something to add. He looks much in the same way as Pyro, though he doesn't take time by giving false pleasantries or greetings. He's mad and it shows, but there's something else that lingers in the depths of his hard gaze. ]

The threat is, indeed, gone. For now. However, it would be wise to assume this will likely not be the last of such an event. [ He shifts, frowning as he glances off screen for a moment. ] It would be wise to upkeep your guard as it is clear we shall have to take justice into our own hands.

[And with that, Pyro shuts off the feed with a glare. Time for the shitstorm.]

((ooc: this is going to be a huge, beautiful mess. tags could come from Altair, either of the Thors, Pyro, or any number of NPCs who decide to hop on. i'll likely turn off notifications and track any threads i get into for that reason, so if i seem to miss something, please PM me!))

I hope everyone who's sick gets better. I wish there was more I could do. Back home, if I still had my hair's power, I could help. But it doesn't work here in Asgard, since my power here is drawing life instead. I'm not sure how much I might be able to help, but I could maybe offer to help at the clinic or hospital if basic first aid helps or something? I guess I just....feel pretty helpless with all of this, right now.

Everyone, just try to keep an eye on each other, okay? I'm sure the gods are doing what they can and looking into this so we can fix it. Just hang on until then.

[And with that, Rapunzel ends the feed, a small part of her still grateful for Eugene's paranoia and stopping her drinking the water.]

[Daphne looks like she's just gotten back from a nice healthy stay at the beach -- which she has. Her skin has a lot more color to it and she looks well-rested, which is a good thing, considering the fact that an illness seems to be sweeping through Asgard.

Her sleeves are rolled up and she's in her hospital uniform, hair tied up in a loose messy bun -- and while her voice is soft and even as always, it holds some amount of firmness to it.]

Anyone who is feeling ill should come to the hospital for examination. I'm one of the healers here -- I can try to help you.

Try not to wait too long.

( [Filtered to Team Free Will / House Camelot] )

[Leo frowns, ignoring his dark hair that has gotten free of his protective goggles and inspects his latest work. The screen only shows him, some teenage kid working in the forge. The forge is somewhat grey, but the fire and the anvil are normal colored.

He steps away, giving the folks watching a good view of the sword blade waiting to be turned into a complete weapon. The craftsmanship is impressive, something that someone years his senior should be able to produce. He pushes his goggles up with a sigh.]

Okay, so, question time. This 'coloring' process. [He uses finger quotes before he starts bustling about, stirring up the fire in the forge with an expert's touch.] Can someone narrow their focus down and concentrate on one place?

Or is it one of those mysterious things that hasn't been explained?

Kind of an odd question, I guess, but I was wondering how many people out there have moved into the paid housing instead of staying in the rooms the gods give us. Is it worth doing if you have enough people or make enough money to move out, or would you have preferred staying put? And do you have to be from the same district you want to rent from?

[ She pauses for a moment and then laughs quietly, thumb moving up to run across her eyebrow. ] That was more than one question, wasn't it? [ Oh well. It all ties together. ] I'll probably end up with even more questions when you guys start responding, so I apologize for that in advance.

( private to scott mccall, lydia martin, stiles stilinski, jackson whittemore. )

Okay... okay this 'random arrival' thing was cute. [This is as sarcastic as someone can be without holding up a sign saying I'M BEING SARCASTIC.]

Nice trick the gods pulled, ha ha everyone is laughing.

[Isaac is not laughing. His voice is deadpan, a little tight, and when he glances behind him, there's... another Isaac. They look practically identical, save for wearing different clothes, a slightly different hairstyle, and Isaac- the one making the post- takes a deep breath and looks back to the feed, still in. A little bit of shock.]

But this.

This is a little creepy.

[Another deep breath. Deep breaths are important when the Invasion of the Bodysnatchers goes from Tuesday night B Horror to actual real life.]

...any explanations?


[[ooc: other Isaac is fugitive_but_great! Threadjacking is encouraged everywhere, and other Isaac will tag around a bit/threadjack too.]]

[ The video turns on and Annabeth gives a small wave at the camera; she looks pretty excited for whatever reason. ]

Hi. My name's Annabeth Chase -- and I know I'm not the first, but I'm another person that's been brought here permanently after I arrived for the celebration.

But I was reading the welcome...uh, drawing? And I wasn't really satisfied by the answers. Can anyone tell me a little bit more about this place and the gods? Where I come from, we don't really have these same gods. [ You know, being a daughter of a Greek goddess and how the Greek pantheon is a thing. ] Any help you'd like to give would be really appreciated. Or maybe just tell me where I can go to find out some more -- I looked in the library, but it's so huge. I might have missed something.

Also if I'm going to be living here, I should probably help out. What's there to do around here? Jobs and stuff? I'd offer up my services as an architect, but you usually need some capital before you can build anything...

--Oh and Seaweed Brain, you'd better message me when you see this. Thanks!

[ The video is focused on this adorable little puppy, the one in the pink sweater. It sits on it, silently, for a minute or two before Lydia speaks, the video still on the dog ]

Her name is Chanel. She's cute, well behaved and the pink brings out her eyes. [ She's also all Lydia's, because even if Scott doesn't know it yet she's not letting anyone else buy this puppy

The video also now turns on to Lydia, and if you've seen the place before you'll notice that she's in Scott's pet shop. If you haven't been there before you may notice the rabbit pen behind her, with four little bunnies in it. They don't have sweaters - yet ]

And because there are new people here, some that might get to stay, I thought I'd take the opportunity to do a little advertising. [ She sounds pleasant, and perhaps a little sweeter than normal, but it's her advertising - she wants people to come and buy the pets, and prove to Scott that he didn't make a mistake giving her a job ]

If you're looking for a pet, or a friend is, then you should come to Allison's. It's not just dogs, any small animal that you want we have. [ She says any. Any from her world, anyway. The normal stuff ] And if you want something else then just leave a request and Scott will get on it. [ Will he? He will now ]

But I'd get on it quickly before they all sell out. [ And she may will push the hard sell ]

[ This post appears on the evening of Day 290, minutes after the first Visitors begin to arrive. Thor is oddly harried, sharp. ]

This is a mistake, and we're working on fixing it. You lot showing up - surprise! Welcome to the city. Don't wander out of the gates, don't die, and enjoy the party until we can figure out a way to send you home.

You travelers - answer their questions, take care of them, whatever. We'll be setting up lodging in Folkvang -- [ He glances off screen, wrinkles his nose in distaste, and then looks back at the feed. ] -- and in my arena too, I guess, even though - [ pointedly, to off-camera: ] -- it's an arena, it's not meant for disaster lodging!

I'll answer what I can, but I'm busy, so Pyro, try not to get your panties in a twist about me being dodgy again. I've just got better things to do than chit-chat today.

[ Thor sighs, shrugs, and then dryly finishes: ]

Hope you're enjoying the fireworks.



[ OOC: Signaling the start of the festival/visitor's event! Fourth wallers and current players alike feel free to comment in here. Thor won't have time to converse for long, but please treat this as a network mingle post and hijack to your hearts' content!

Also, feel free to make fresh comments on this post for the duration of the event - they just don't have to happen on the evening of Day 290. Here is the party mingle log and visiting character directory. Happy playing, and we hope you enjoy your stay, visitors! ]