[He's much too ashamed to use video now, choosing voice instead.]

I must apologize for the way I was the last fortnight. I am unaccostomed to how things happen here, and yet it is no excuse for my behavior. I lost all of who I am, replaced by the mindset of how I once was. [He knows he must specifically look for one man in particular, but this is hard enough. It's not that he cannot admit that he was wrong, but rather that people saw him that way.]

If I did or said anything to offend or to hurt, I am truly sorry. I had never meant to attack anyone, and I assure all of Asgard I have long since stopped feeding. No one was ever meant to see what I once was.

[And now he'll go he depressed in Hel.]

[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.