[ The morning of day 505, a message from the gods is broadcast over the network: ]

Greetings, Travelers.

Some of you may know already that there was a breach of the castle barrier. We apprehended an individual using Thiazi's magic to attempt assassination of the Queen, and have confirmed that he is Thiazi's informant inside Asgard. This man has been actively assisting her in making attacks on the city as well as misleading our own intelligence efforts.

[ Heimdall is understandably quite cross at this. He gestures offscreen and the feed shifts from Heimdall to a wider shot of the room, where there is a man being held in place between Thor and Loki, who also look quite cross. ]

His name is Satan and he pleads innocence by corruption -- that all he has done while sabotaging Asgard was Thiazi's influence. While he lives we cannot tell his intent, only that he is indeed the perpetrator.

Since he is one among you, we leave his judgment in your hands. What would you have us do with the traitor?


(( The poll is to be filled out ICly and once per character! This will decide Satan's fate. Please feel free to threadjack at will to discuss the trial! ))

[ to the video Ame comes up. His ears are standing up, his black wet nose is pointed at the camera, and he is sitting inside a room with flowers and other plants around. ]

When I was little, I was afraid of everything. I was afraid of lizards, I was afraid of cats, I was afraid of owls. My mother used to pet me as she said “it’s alright”, to tell me that she was there with me.

One day during winter, I was catching a bird by the river and I fell in. I almost drowned. When I woke up, I told my mom “Mom, I got it. I got the bird. All by myself”. But she was angry and I didn’t understand why - all I could think of was that I was able to catch the bird and I felt like I could do anything. But when I looked at mom again, I saw her crying and shaking and she was so scared. [ Ame’s ears drop a little, but only momentarily ]

I decided that I could do a lot of things, yeah. But what I wanted the most was to tell my mom “it’s alright”, that she doesn’t have to be afraid because I’m there.

I want to do the same in this place. I met a lot of people and I like a lot of people, and I want to show them it’s alright. Even if I look like a kid, I still think I can do a lot of things. And you, too. Everyone can. And it’s okay to be scared and angry, but there are still others and they are there. And together we make it alright. [ he hopes so, at least. Because the last attack to the city was rough, but they still made it, and he thinks they can win, in the end.

aaaand that was about it. Ame pauses, one of his ear moves, not sure how to end this ] That’s all I wanted to say.

[ the pup finally turns off his video feed. Yes, this is werewolf encouragement. He tries. ]

thhhheeeeeeeeeggoddeads

thejskgimacaaneedabcascaeane

[There's a pause, before Athelstan finally switches over to video. His breath is coming in shuddery gasps, and he's obviously... not well. There are bruises and lacerations scattered across what's visible of his face, healing black eyes, small cuts draped across his forehead. There's not much to see from the chin down though, as the rest of him is covered in an old monk robe, vastly different from the patchwork leathers he had been known to wear before.

Frankly, he looks a bit like hell, but he keeps the video feed pointed toward his torso and face, his arms and legs decidedly out of the picture.]

-I'm sorry, [he manages to breathe softly, before refocusing and forcing a slight smile.] My writing seems to have suffered in my absence.

[There's another pause, before-]

The gods found me again and took me, but they neglected the crook I had been using. I- [He winces, disliking to ask, but...] -I need assistance to get back to my home. I can't... walk without it.

[Which is embarrassing enough. He opens his mouth then, as if to say something more, but he thinks better of it before long and shuts off the video- revealing a heavily bandaged hand, for just a split moment before the feed cuts off.]

[She looked numbly at the feed. Her private message had bounced back and the name was missing. After so long, so many gone, she'd begun to think he would always be here, to the end. Seeing him gone was a sock to the gut, but she hit the feed with a stern, stubborn look in her eyes.]

No time like the present. Merlin's gone, and we're the less for it, but there's work to do and he wouldn't want this going to crap just because he disappeared.

[The image isn't of the inside of Pinch of Sage for once. Instead, it looks like Samantha is standing in a greenhouse. She doesn't take people back to the greenhouse where herbs are grown for the shop very often. plants hang from pots all around her head and in long rows. Some are familiar to those who know earth plants, or the basic varieties found in Asgard, but others in the back are more exotic. She's standing next to a group of firebloom flowers, ones people who have met with the elves might have seen before.]

For those of you that have signed up with the Medic Corps, let's get started with training. Best way I can think of to remember him. I'm a terrible organizer, so one of you can get to rallying the troops, please gods get on that. [For a second, she sounded exhausted.] Training in powers like Healing and Damage Drain is good, and any of you from Sigyn and Heimdall with us should keep it up, but you've only got so much juice. [She held up a small yellow vial.] And potions like these can only help so much. If you overuse them or take too much power from other Heimdalls and Freyas like me, you can still end up exhausted.

Magic's a tool, and if you overuse a tool, you break it or you aren't ready when you don't have it. I'll be holding classes on poultice making, first aid and paramedics starting tomorrow. Anyone who wants lessons on how to make the curatives that some of us have been making, let me know. You don't need to be in the Medic Corps, but I'd prefer it if folks in the Corps get some lessons on the basics. The more tools, the better.

Anyone who already has the skills... I could probably use the help in training the folks who are using more powers than training. The more the merrier.

Private to Eridan

I'm re-acquiring an investment from an old friend of ours. We need a third. I suggest Desmond, but I want your input first.

So with shit getting serious, are we still going to have the same old with dying? We all still come back?

[He's bitter, angry, scared, a glass or two into his cups and generally not fucking having it today. He's on his couch at home, feet propped up, glass of something amber in hand now.]

Who else here has been to the underworld? I have- and I have no intention of joining the souls down there.

Though I guess that bears the question, what's the afterlife like back home for you?

Got a question for those of you who've been here a while. Is it uncommon to get pulled back to your own world, get dragged back here to Asgard, and find yourself under a different god than you had before?

[And is it so abnormal for it to be a really, really big shift? No, not going there. There's more to this than a question, and he won't be surprised if it gets ignored in favor of...everything else. In fact, he's banking on what he has to say being more alluring than anything else.]

Seems a lot of us have been disappearing. For those keeping a list, go ahead and add the name of Barty Crouch Junior. I know plenty here had mixed feelings about him. [What an understatement.] If you didn't before, you might now. Shortly before I tried to get a hold of him and realized he wasn't with us anymore, he told me bluntly he started that fire we had not too long ago. Used a mirror to give it a slow burn so by the time it really caught on, he had an alibi. [That might sting a little more if Will hadn't...well, had worse.] Add "Harry Saxon" to that list, too. Seems he had some issues of his own before I got here.

[He'd add another name to that list, but he can't even bring himself to type the letters in that order. Or say it out loud. So it goes ignored for now as he essentially says "fuck everything tbh" because really, the people involved deserve some closure, and like hell if he's going to waste what energy he has contact everyone individually. That's too much effort for someone in his current state.]


[ooc. there will be hannibal season 2 spoilers in the comments, so head's up!]

[When the feed starts, Athelstan is in his room, with one of Will's dogs stretched warmly across his lap. Athelstan rubs his fingers against her ears as he looks over the projection from his bracelet- right, recording.]

...'this is the end'. The tree has been- is being?- destroyed. I am not a commander of men, nor am I any sort of leader, but times are dire and I... [His lips press together firmly as he nudges the dog off of his lap- she makes a soft, indignant noise before skittering out of his room.]

Where I come from, the men worshiped these gods. This tree was their world, holding up everything they held dear. We must fight to keep it standing, we must- I can show you how these gods must be worshiped, I can tell stories of their exploits and wit, if that would give you cause to fight for them.

[There's a short pause, as Athelstan lets out a breath, contemplating his next words.] Even if you cannot fight, you must pray. All of your gods have guided men through their trials for hundreds of years- longer, in some of your worlds. They would not abandon us now.

[The words are encouraging, but his voice is hollow, preaching a message he's not sure if he can believe in.]

[There's a shirtless young man, hunched over his bracelet, eying it peculiarly. He hasn't been here long, but already the city's affects have taken it's toll. In his mind he has not been in a city like this since he was exiled, fleeing and living off of Europe's countryside. He raids villages, killing as he wishes.]

They call this place Ásgarðr, and yet I do not believe them. [He speaks in Old Norse, purposeful and with a slight lisp. He is used to his fangs that are no longer there. He doesn't look confused though, content and powerful. He wipes at his chin, though nothing seems to be there.]

I apologize, [He switches back to the native tongue here without thinking. He looks more like a deer in the headlights, unsure how to act in front of people.] I have heard tales of this place, strong men with braids speak of it before I spill their blood. They call to Odin, they call to Thor.

But these are not my gods, child of Gaul, of Rome, of Death.

[He licks his lips again, expecting the taste of blood that is not there.] I do not belong among the dead even if I am death itself.

[ To those who know him, Maglor looks tired. To those who know him well it might even be obvious that he has been weeping. To those who don't... this is the Elven Lord who once sat in High Council and played politics with the Kings of Beleriand before it was destroyed - cool, and apparently unaffected. ]

To those who knew him, Lord Elrond of Rivendell has returned to his world and his people. I have not his skill in healing, but to those he worked with in the healers wards, I will be glad to take his place as needed, for I know you remain short of hands.

[ he tips his head in a brief bow then turns off the feed - alone, his facade breaks - he is glad that Elrond is home, where he belongs, and he knows that he will be well, but it still hurts ]

[Whale...looks oddly happy. which, might be worrying, but considering that everybody's oddly happy today thanks to the rune magic whatever makes it slightly less worrying.]

Right, two things for you, Asgard. One: I know that there's at least people who look like me. No, I don't know why that happened either and yes, it's weird as hell. I'm Dr. Whale, not Adam or John. I'm the American one who's in Baldr and can be found around the hospital.

Two: Sigyn House, I've got a question for you. I talked with McCoy a couple of weeks ago, but I'm just now getting around to asking people this: how does the Growth power work? Can you grow anything or do you need seeds or something like that first?

This is purely scientific, so any and all answers would be appreciated. Though, depending on the outcome, I might have a job for a couple of you.

[spoilers: it is not purely scientific. he wants people to grow hops and/or weed. A+ JOB, MORON.]

[It's true. It's taken him some time to get himself settled given the current state of things (both physically and with his own inability to believe his lot straight away) but now that he has, Mohinder has devoted some of his attention to figuring out this communication device. There are several false starts before he manages.]]

My name is Mohinder Suresh.

[Though he looks Middle Eastern or Indian, he has a purring British lilt to his voice.]

A few days ago, just after the flood waters receded it seems, I arrived here without knowing why or how I might be tasked to help so that I may one day return home.

I'm sorry to say that I still do not know, but I am willing to learn. My skills might be few here. I am-- I had been a geneticts. A lecturer. A researcher. Until recently, I taught classes at a University in Madras on human evolution.

I was also told that I might have an ability. In my world, such things are possible to a few with evolved human genes. I do not possess such markers in my genome, however, so I am not sure how this might even be possible.

[Yes. He's always quite verbose.]

I would like to talk with anyone willing. I could trade information for...cleaning perhaps. Or cooking.

Thank you.

[Sam has been essentially silent for the past two or three weeks.

He's been researching -- something that's been disrupted due to Asgard falling apart at the seams for what feels like the tenth time this month, but Sam has finally reached a conclusion. A pretty obvious one, if he says so himself. And so he turns on the video feed, looking tired -- drawn, with messy hair, almost like he hasn't slept in a few days (which, let's be real, he totally hasn't), and he draws in a deep breath before speaking.]

This world isn't going to last much longer unless we do something.

( CUT FOR LENGTH BECAUSE SAM DOESN'T SHUT UP )

Citizens—

[ The man (it's only obviously a man from the voice - all features are borderline feminine, and it seems God made a pretty decent mistake when creating this creature) on the feed can only be described as disgruntled - tired eyes and a firmly set jaw, the hints of both annoyance and confusion resting in the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. The angle cuts off most his torso, but from what's shown there's the very clear stain of blood on his white shirt. ]

I come to you with arms spread, head up-tilted towards the heavens - or what rises above the heavens, I'm inclined to believe. The story this "Loki" has told me is, ultimately, difficult to believe but—

[ He sighs, like this is truly a try against his patience, shaking his head while golden locks frame his face. ]

But what choice is there, I will be told. I've come to rest and I find myself tangled in yet another war, in another place, in a world I care little about. If I do not fight, will I be sent back to the world I know, to rot beneath the dirt? Would God permit me this mercy? [ He clucks his tongue, cruelly, shaking his head with the way the words roll deliberately off his tongue. ] God, mercy.

[ He hears chants of you were wrong, you were entirely and completely wrong ringing freely in his ears, and this moment of self-loathing is brought on solely by the thought that Enjolras led his friends, his brothers, all to an early grave - and yet, where are they? When he needs them most, he's been kept from them. ]

It seems, even despite the evil that plagues, there is still no need for Lucifer, no need of Michael, for their names mean none in the light of this world. This after life — ha! To think of how we worship, led astray, and the glory of His kingdom is only another life anew. The cold grave I must have been buried in would be warmer, would it not?

[ He pauses, thinking again. This is not a speech led by his usual passionate retorts and screams - it's instead a reflection of his utter confusion, how truly lost he finds himself, and from that, his annoyance at himself. ]

Then, I am named Enjolras. It's better than the number that would wait below were I to go back, if nothing else.

[When the video kicks on, Athelstan is in the middle of scrambling backward, his fingers closing around the axe in his belt. The hovering touchscreen, of course, follows him back and he instinctively slashes out at the hologram as it chases him through the room.

Through sheer dumb luck, he manages to hit the button that halts the screen's movement so it stops advancing on him, and after a few moments of sitting on the floor, staring in terror at the bright screen that seemed to appear out of nowhere, Athelstan pulls himself up on his elbows and takes a deep breath.]

Deus meus.

[The Latin is deliberate, and it takes him a few more moments to actually calm down and approach the recording screen again.]

This is... used to communicate? [It's an interesting enough contraption, and his brows furrow a little, reaching out a tentative hand to touch the hologram, head tilted as it makes the screen flicker before him.] With no ink or parchment... fascinating. You others with this ring, you can hear my voice through this? As if I were next to you?

[He grasps the concept quickly enough, it seems, and pokes a little more at the screen, widening and shortening it in turn.]

I... I am Athelstan, a follower of your god Odin. I did not expect to find Valhalla so soon into my days- [or at all, really...] -but as I am here now, I suppose I must offer myself to the service of the gods. If anyone can help me... the magic of Asgard is something I have never experienced before. I am unfamiliar with many things in this land. As a matter of fact, I-

[Aaand he manages to shut the recording off in mid-sentence. Go figure.

Help?]

[[ooc: intro is backdated just a bit to before the flood! :o]]