[Euri takes a deep breath when the feed starts. This seems a little weird, asking everyone on the network instead of hunting down the people she already knows, but this might be the better option.

She hopes.]

I bet some of you have already noticed the gods sent Crow - Senji home. For those of you that didn't know him he was amazing and really, really great. And the best fighter here ever. He could kick anyone's ass!

So... before he left he was training me to be a better fighter. Now that he's gone I need a new trainer, because I definitely don't want to just stop. There's a certain bastard obsessed with fire whose ass I still need to kick, and there's the war to worry about.

I can pay runes! Or I guess if anyone really wants, potions or charms or herbs - stuff I prepare for the store. I can cook, too. Mostly. So if there's anyone who can fight and is interested let me know!

hello asgard! i hope today finds yoU well. ^u^
i have a simple message for one, sir cherioUr: it is ( finished )

i may not be an expert on this grey bUsiness, bUt i fancy art is one way to bring some color back to asgard! if anyone shoUld have any reqUests, i will do my best to see them throUgh :U
..my thanks again.

[Shyly, she clicks back to text]

also! i am told it is thanks to a leanardo da vinci that we of the freyr all have this new footwear?
[Although she must confess the ones with blades on the feet confuse her. Is that a weapon??]
my most sincere congratUlations to yoU! i only regret that i did nothing to contribUte.
please, if yoU ever have need of my skills, i will happily oblige.


[Private to Euri, Cheriour, Hanako, Eridan, Ichigo, Ange, Luka]
my apologies aboUt being so tight lipped before
bUt i have now dedUced, short of any caUsal bother,
that i may safely give oUt my identity withoUt worry.
therefore i wished to tell yoU formerly,
my name is Calliope ^U^

Honestly, I don't understand how people don't love snow. It's cold, yes, but...overall, it's just very pretty, isn't it? How could you not love that?

[Well, here's a familiar face to some- Cheriour is standing on top of a snow pile, beaming and looking very proud of himself as his clock eyes tick on.]

[He tilts his head quizzically at the camera.]

But I have to say, I'm a bit confused as to what in the world some people do with it! You see, I'e been reading these books about what people do in the snow, and while some things are rather self-explanatory, others are...less so. For example, snowballs I understand, but what in the world is "snowboarding"? Is that like putting boards on snow, or...? And it seems a lot like skiing, too, by the sound of it! Except...I'm at a loss as to what skiing is, too. It sounds fun to say, though, skiing...

[A pause, before he shakes his head.]

Oh, oh, but there was something that I was very intrigued by in the books I read, and I don't really know if I did it correctly or not, but...I made a snow angel!

[And the camera pans over to show, well, this:]

[Castiel has been quiet since Ragnarok, for the most part, spending time with his family and recovering from everything that happened. He did have some things he was intending to address soon enough, but they've been temporarily eclipsed by another issue.

He's using voice instead of his usual video for reasons, and only asks one simple question.]

Has anyone here ever been cursed the same way twice?

[This is not cool. It could've been a much worse curse to repeat, but come on; it wasn't funny the first time, and he didn't even do anything to warrant it.]

[When the feed starts Euri's bracelet is focused on the ground. Specifically, what seems to be some kind of wreath comprised of branches, stems and a lot of mushrooms, all dried. It then flicks up to show, about fifteen feet away, a pile of plants (herbs, possibly?) smoldering slowly. A lot of smoke is being released, mixing in with the early morning chill.

Anyone who fought in the war or saw Freyr's post will recognize it as the spot where he exploded. How pleasant.]

So... it's normal back home to cleanse an area of land where a lot of people died. You know, to purify it, to try and prevent any future necromancy. Or restless spirits.

[It feels awkward explaining this. Even if she's used to being around humans there's still a sour pang of a Witch explaining sacred rituals to inferior humans. She tries to ignore it, though.] I'm not sure if that's how things work here, but it can't hurt. It's better to prevent necromancy than have to deal with it later, and these herbs are supposed to help protect things. Maybe it'll help the flora grow back faster, too.

[Thankfully since her bracelet isn't on her anyone watching this will miss the shiver run down her spine. She hopes to every single one of her gods that this will actually do something. To a Witch necromancy is one of the few things worse than a razed piece of land that's unable to grow any vegetation.]

Oh - and - [More awkward uncomfortable explanations.] There's another ritual back home. Singing to mourn and honour the recently dead. But it doesn't seem appropriate to sing any of the Witch funerary songs, since no one who died was a Witch, so... I have a CD with this other song on it. A book in the library said this song is used for funerals often. I hope it's okay.

[Then she'll launch into a surprisingly good rendition of Ave Maria. Despite the awkwardness before her voice is now confident.]

[It's roughly noon. The armies are staring each other down across a field of mud and gravel and blood. It's clear that Asgard and their allies are heavily battered down, suffering from heavy losses and damaged morale. It feels like today is the last day. It seems like there's no chance that anything but the end of the world could come today.

Then a video feed starts on the network, surveying the view from a high vantage point. Freyr isn't on screen, but he's close enough to speak and be heard clearly. But even if he weren't close he'd still be heard. There's a convenient little spell projecting his voice all across his side of the battlefield and through the city itself. It's a stern voice, tense and short instead of the gentle, patient attitude he usually shows.]

Sound the retreat. Get all living things within the city walls. Abandon that which cannot be swiftly carried. Now.

[The video continues in silence while his orders are spread through the forces and followed. It takes little more than ten minutes to move everyone inside at an ordered dash. Supply wagons and tents are left in the field and people and animals are removed until all that remains is ghost town of a camp. Small groups of enemies that try to chase are quickly and efficiently deterred by fire from the flying ship, and eventually all are safe inside.

He wants this recorded. It's more than just to be sure his announcement is heard -- he wants to be sure no one forgets how close they were and how important this battle was. His ship maneuvers to the center of the field, and he takes a graceful leap to the ground just yards from the enemy front lines. At that point, he begins to glow.]

...Do not doubt that all of you would have died this day. This is not a game. It's not a trick. Everyone and everything you love is and has been riding on this. I'm sure, even now, that the war will not end. You will all have to continue to fight, and for that you have my sincerest apologies. You also have my sincerest faith. I have never seen hearts so strong as those who stand for what they believe in when they are so far from home. Whether you hate us or not that remains true. I am sure you will triumph in the end.

Thus, I am honored to have observed true beauty in all of you. Thank you and good luck.

[His voice wavers by the time he's done. He'd like to be emotional, but showing fear and regret won't help anyone and so he holds it in.

It's a distant angle, but the video might just catch a hint of a solemn smile. Then, with a flash like a bomb the view goes white and then blinks out. After that anyone looking out past the gates will see a wide, shallow scar on the land, stretching from just feet away from the city walls to what used to be a point three quarters of the way into the enemy army. In that place, nothing remains but rock-solid round covered in a layer of fine white dust. Not even a bit of metal or a single plant mars that flat surface. For a moment anyone in Freyr house will have their powers flicker off, then back on within a few seconds.

But the enemy is decimated, and shows no signs of coming close again.]


[ooc note: That's it for actual plot events! The enemy army will stay at a distance the rest of this IC day (tonight and tomorrow), and will leave in the morning (Nov 16). There will be another NPC post on the 17th, but other than that from this point on is just cleanup. Characters who died will return on the 17th! Thank you for playing!

Oh and P.S. you can get comments from the other gods, so do feel free to respond to this post to talk to them or just to talk to each other. Threadjacking is A+! It is a free-for-all in this post, even for quick action threads.]

[ The storm sirens have been shrieking in the city for about a solid minute before the video feed starts on Thor’s ruddy and smiling face. He adjusts the bracelet where it sits on his desk and steps back, already pulling on some pretty ornate looking armor. ]

Sound the bells of war!

[ His voice is low and bellowing, but clearly pleased. This is one god visibly pleased beyond measure. ]

Those lot of you bellyaching to me before about having nothing to do? I expect to see you on the front lines with me!

Justice.

[It's a strange sight, really- there's Cheriour, clock eyes always ticking, and there is a gentle sort of smile on his face as usual, but what is in his hands might be a surprise to some who haven't seen him carry it around.]

[It's a sword, and an old one at that. He's rubbing it down with a cloth, polishing it, though the slight dark tarnishes at it's end are impossible to remove. And he continues to speak at the bracelet placed next to him, hand never stopping its movements down the weapon.]

I'm not sure that many people know what justice really is, honestly! I mean, when you talk about someone being just, it means they know what is right. They can look at a situation and judge accordingly, making sure that their decisions go accordingly to their own moral compass.

But justice is really more than that. Justice is...hmmm, how to put this? It's just something that you have to follow through with. It's the feeling you get when you watch an innocent person get hurt. It's seeing a bad person really get what they deserve after all the harm and pain they've caused others. It's this force, really, that drives you to do the utmost good for people you can do.

[There's a dreamy sort of look on his face, like he's talking about something adored and prized over all- it's quite obvious that he has really strong feelings about this.]

But! Of course, not many people think about it that way. Some people think it can be only found in courtroom cases and trials, which is true, but it's so much more widespread! Justice is more than a jury and a judge, anybody can go through with it. It's found in everybody.

...At least, that's what I think.

[And he smiles over at the bracelet with a pondering look.]

What is really the definition of justice, do you think?

[ When the Doctor wandered into his room for the first time since yesterday this morning, he finds a fez. So, guess what he's wearing when he makes this broadcast a little while later?

The fez, of course.

Because fezzes are cool. ]

I guess they really are trying to spoil us. If I got things right, this has happened before? Things from our planets or worlds or universes - whichever works fine, I suppose - coming here. Or, if you're lucky, it's spoiling. Depends on what you get.

Something to do with the animals? Possibly. But what's with the plants? They obviously come from the outside, since they had all that colour. The animals too. So why? Why all of this?

[ A pause. ]

It's almost like someone's trying to get on our good side. Or they're possibly a little bored.

[Daphne is normally smiling and optimistic, but when her video feed turns on, she seems somewhat weary -- maybe even a little depressed. Still, she makes an effort, even if she looks slightly nervous.]

I would like to speak to the gods -- whichever one isn't busy, but I'd like to speak to whoever is in charge, if I could, please.

[It's... uncertain, as she is not very well practiced in these things. But she feels that's a pretty good place to start. It's not like she was disrespectful or anything. And once that is said and done, she tries for a smile.]

And -- and anyone can answer this, but a god could too, I guess -- is there anyone who knows whether or not there's a place of worship here? It doesn't matter what faith, I just... I've needed one lately and I don't know the first place to look. And if anyone would like to come with me, I'd -- well, I'd appreciate it.

[She pauses, uncertain, before offering another quick smile.]

Thank you.

[And she cuts the feed.]

Heeeey Asgard!

So is everyone feeling better after that shitty virus deal? I hope so! Now seems like as good a time as any to re-announce that Jade and me are throwing a super house-warming party and everyone's invited. Yup, everyone!

So consider this your second official invitation to the Science Babe's apartment over in Baldr District!

By the way, I just wanna make it clear that just because we moved into Baldr, that doesn't mean we're supporters of Baldr the guy in anyway. Or that we even like him, 'cause as far as I'm concerned he's still a giant dick and he can go fuck himself.

...

Speaking of houses though, has anyone asked to change before? Or ask if they can have their powers changed? Because I love Freya and all the peeps there but Charm sucks as a fighting power. It's cool if I wanted to make some hot guy mack on me for whatever reason, sorta useless if I end up in a fight against some gross slimy monster or something.

Yeah, totes not happening.

[A feed starts up that's completely black, but what the strangest thing my be is that the user that it comes up as is "???". There's no name attached.

However, about 30 seconds in, tiny streaks of light begin running through the darkness, but they're probably too small to tell that they're made up of 0s and 1s. The little lights continuing moving up and down the screen, and they're soon joined with words, sounds, and other visuals:]


( Cut for length & mention of gore/death. )

((ooc: ???'s been hit with a "broadcast mind" curse, so basically all his thoughts going to be up for viewing. (How ironic, huh?) However, most of these thoughts don't belong to him since they're general thoughts of Travelers & Natives that he's overheard with Telepathy and is reflecting on. Sorry for the messiness! I wanted to emphasize the fact that his thoughts are very muddled and all over the place. Cut is actually a link redirect to the entry on ???'s journal. For some reason the post doesn't want to stay under a cut. :\

Also, if you want a thought from your character included so that they can react that they've had their mind read at some point, just PM me & I'll add it in. Thoughts & memories that ??? may have overheard must be from AFTER the Darkness/when ??? obtained lv 3, unless it's something your character had reflected on past that point.))

[Castiel has just returned from a trip to Utgard, to find... Well, a mess, figuratively speaking. That leaves the question surely everyone else who had been out of the city has:]

What happened here while we were gone?

[They were only away a few days, after all, and it seems those who decided to go were fortunate. That of course casts some suspicion onto the timing of the trip, which was already considered a little shady, but that's a matter for a later time. He had things he was going to say during his next post, whenever it was to be, but it doesn't seem appropriate at the moment.]

The natives I encountered said something of an illness, and--

[He stops, suddenly, looking alarmed for a brief moment as he glances at something, then there's faint confusion and his expression returns to neutral before he continues.]

--and of the dragon from Muspellheim, but I am unclear on any details, or if further assistance is needed at the hospital.

[And if he should know anything before heading there. His expression flickers again, gaze snapping to somewhere just offscreen, but he looks back at the feed and seems about to say something further. Instead, however, he abruptly shuts off the connection.]

Right. Magic communications system activate.

[The feed flicks on to show a young girl in a red dress. She's young, early twenties at the latest, and she has a big smile on her face. As though this entire situation is highly entertaining.]

Oh, there it goes. So easy it's almost boring. I suppose I can't modify it either.

[She shakes her head, amused.]

So. Gods. Gods and magic in a dying world. Normally I'm a skeptic but there's little room for disbelief here. Though, I must say they're a little desperate for Gods if they're picking up dead girls to do their bidding. Is everyone here dead or is that just a personal problem? Also human again, that's nice. Sure did miss doing my hair.

[A cough.]

Anyway, suppose this is where I drop an introduction to my new world saving friends, isn't it? Oswin Oswald. Girl genius, rather sexy, now part of Odin's house. Also Junior Entertainment Manager on the luxury starliner The Alaska. Well former. Ship crash ended that job. There! Introduced.

[She moves to turn off the feed before pausing.]

Oh yes. And if you've seen a man with floppy hair, terrible fashion, and an impressive chin and his pal with the nose. Tell him I'm here and waiting.

So it seems, Asgard, we meet again.

These gods are persistent in their meddling. They callously insist that I stay in this world. I had presumed once was enough.

[ contrary to popular belief, holmes - holmes is good at what he does. when sherlock holmes decided to devote himself to the passion of crime, the stage lost a fine actor. his tone is firm and he's entirely unflinching. the ratty bathrobe he came to asgard with, draped over his suit. ]

Nevertheless. My name is Sherlock Holmes and I am a returning citizen upon this dwelling. It is my business to know what others do not. I consider myself a specialist in dealing with the criminal mind. Should you need me for anything interesting - you will find means to reach me.

[[ OOC | Guess who finally ... de-anoned. feel free to call him out on his bs. ]]

[HELLO ASGARD. There is a very irked and irritated cyborg staring right back at you, looking unimpressed and obviously out of place. She's in Hel's district, having made her way back to the welcome hall after her adventure through the city!

Not.]

Okay. So besides forgetting to mention we're in a war, and that this place is inhabited by crazy assholes, is there anything else someone wants to tell me about this city that I don't know? You know, before I end up punching someone? I'm filled in on the whole coloring aspect, we can't get home, and we have powers. [A wiggle of her fingers here, to show how amused she is by that aspect.] Whoop-de-doo. Any hint about surprises would be fantastic.

[She is so thrilled, can't you tell.]

Also, bandages. Where do I find them. [She holds up a bandaged hand that is BRIGHT FUCKING RED and may or may not be dripping. With blood. Aha. Ha. Ha. Someone might have punched a wall when she learned she couldn't go home. WHOOPS. |D;;; Clearly it doesn't phase her in the slightest, she's not even screaming in pain. Though that may be because at home, she fried off her pain receptors a week ago. GOTTA LOVE SEER SHIT, IT'S WONDERFUL.]

Gonna need to know where I can get more. As long as it's not in the way of the "I've gone crazy with power" dumbasses.

[Have a red-head. She doesn't look any different than she usually does, aside from the fact that her expression seems more than a touch 'off' for some reason. She's seated lazily in a cheap-looking, beat-up old easy-chair. The room behind her isn't clearly visible, and looks at best glance to be someone's basement. There's healthy odds that, given the repairs around the city, she's found some poor bastard's basement in one of the still unfinished spots and is lounging in a room. The room probably looks familiar to only one person in all of Asgard. Otherwise, there is no immediate indication of where she is visible.

There's nothing else particularly unusual about the chamber, and were it not for the odd way that she was leering at the screen, it might not be quite as disturbing as it is.]

Good evening my fellow travelers. I'm expecting some guests in a little bit to pick up a friend of theirs, and I wouldn't want to be remiss in ... entertaining them properly when they arrive. However, they aren't here yet, and everyone else is a little indisposed, so I find myself bored and with a little time on my hands.

I do soo... hate boredom [Her tail flops about lazily as she says this.]. Won't someone be so kind as to offer a little bit of light diversion while I wait for the mounties on their shining white horses?

(OOC: This thread should stay PG-13, if very creepy. There is, however, a high potential of some triggery issues. Just be aware.)

[Ah. Did he get it to work right, then...?]

—hello. [Polite, a little quiet and there's a softer sort of serious air about him. Perhaps especially for a weird kid (teen) with stark white hair and silvery eyes, a strange sort of scar (tattoo?) jagging across the left side of his face—is it a pentagram or a star on his brow? There's a militaristic black and red uniform he's wearing as well, visible from the chest up—notably just enough that the emblem of a cross he's wearing over his heart is visible.

Given that he sort of tends to stick out like a sore thumb... perhaps you've seen him around the last couple days either in Sigyn or out and about. He's done the latter a lot.]

My name is Allen Walker. [A pause, as if debating.] —in House Sigyn. I'm an Exorcist of the Black Order.

[Eye and arm out of commission or not, that—and making sure he's a clearer target if there is ever a need for one—hasn't changed.

He does seem to waver for a second though, as if unsure he should ask so publicly.] I'm looking for anyone else you might have seen wearing a uniform or a cross like this.  [Which he indicates with a white-gloved tap to the patch. "Rose Cross" it reads under said intricate design.

He doesn't sound worried exactly, but he is quiet. Sober. Rather formal—his posture's straight and even, chin up—but not like that of a strict person. Quite the opposite, actually.] They might have arrived a while ago. But any information would be appreciated.

Ah... If [hesitation, like it leaves a very uncomfortable taste in his mouth] anyone might be able to explain more to me about the healing ability we're given I'd appreciate it, too. [It's nothing he has against the ability to heal. At all. Quite the opposite. It's amazing; breathtaking.

... it's just not his ability.

But—a smile. Something simple and polite but bright, with a small sort of way he tilts his head into it.

Anything but disingenious, but just maybe it's worn just a little too easily, too quickly, too.]

Thank you.

[Polite indeed. Almost oddly so.

Click.]

[It's been a while, Asgard, since you saw your favorite clockwork angel. And this time, Cheriour surprisingly looks very annoyed.]

Really. Really? I mean, okay, what happened with the darkness coming to the city was very bad! And I don't even want to talk about what happened to me during that time. But this...what I've just discovered right now, this is the final straw!! People should never do this, it-it's despicable!

[And what is he so angry about, exactly? The camera turns slightly towards his other hand, which is holding something large and brown. Why, it's... a broken wooden cuckoo clock. Wow. Someone's a little touchy about timepieces being broken.]

I mean, you could totally fix this! Why throw it out? I mean, it tells time for you and all it needs is a little time and care to do that for you, that's all. But no, you treat it like trash. Garbage. Totally useless. But it isn't!

I'm really disappointed in the person who did this! Next time, if you want to throw a clock out, you come to me. Understand?

[A determined frown. He means business, okay.]

I will never let this happen again on my watch.

[This has been a PSA by the guy who has clocks for eyes. You may continue on with your regular lives, Asgardians.]