END OF ARC 1: DAY 169-170 DOWNTIME

[asgardmods]

[The first battle is over, but the second will begin any time. For two days, the enemy forces will remain on the other side of the battlefield, working on strategy and tending to their wounded. Both sides have taken heavy losses, and the Arena is full of the hurt and dying.

The battlefield itself has turned to a bloody, muddy mess. The elves will be asking the Army Engineers group and anyone else willing to help them lay timber and gravel out to make the ground easier to walk on for the next battle.

What will you do in your breathing space? Keep working, mourn your losses, or retreat from the horrors of war?]


[ooc note: This log takes place IC on Days 169-170/Nov 4-7. Please be sure you've read the plot post and the battle log's starting info thoroughly. Make absolutely sure that you include the day/rough time in the subject line of top-level comments, as well as if your thread is open or closed.

In addition to the battle log, there is a full-event log for those hiding out in Folkvang here. If you have any questions, please direct them to the mod post so everyone else can see them!]

Comments

[comeonthensexy]

Hmmm.

Is it meant to make it simpler for us somehow?

[ Because it just seems odd. ]

[pratentious]

[ A short, dry laugh. ]

Oh, yes. Because they've been quite so keen to make things easy for us, they've spared us carving marks to count the days.

[ Disdainful; Arthur may not carry such abhorrence towards the gods as many other Travellers, but he certainly isn't fond of them. ]

[comeonthensexy]

[ He chuckles, quietly. ]

So, do you agree it's strange?

[pratentious]

Ah, you, [ he huffs, a small laugh ], you're asking a future King several hundred years removed from his time in a land of gods and Giants that struggles daily with something called a toaster.

[ He gives him a Look, cheeky. ]

You might be the better authority on what constitutes strange. My sister believes you'll be the one to answer the question that is Asgard.

[ His lips quirk a little, amused, uncertain - perhaps a bit challenging. Arthur is fascinated by the Doctors, but he's still not sure he believes their tales. ]

What say you, then, of the matter?

[comeonthensexy]

That's really faithful of her. Although I usually am the one to answer the questions.

[ He shrugs. ]

It might seem like a small thing, but everything matters when you're trying to find the answer. The Gods don't care to make anything easy for us, but they don't just leave us the native's calendar to keep track of time and instead gives us a new one from the day we were first taken here. Can't help but wonder if there's a point to it.

It's not really a difficult thing to do, of course, if it's just counting days, but why bother in the first place? Do they want to keep track of the days just as much? That's a possibility, but then why? Is it part of some plan?

[ He raises an eyebrow at Arthur. ]

Do you think it's a needless thing to fixate on?

[pratentious]

[ Arthur watches him speak and unravel his thought process with a well-concealed veil of incredulousness. He is a smart man, but that doesn't implicitly mean a wise one. The Prince wonders. ]

Honestly? I think there are other [ far more important ] things to fixate on.

[ For instance: the war. Arthur nods his head down to the bodies they've uncovered before kneeling down beside one and putting an arm under his shoulders and knees, lifting with a grunt of exertion. They'll be buried properly later; for now, they're just being carried to a small lot outside the Arena. ]

[comeonthensexy]

[ Hm...

He bends down to pick up a body as well, briefly closing his eyes with a soft sigh. Such a waste... ]

Of course. That's why people have different roles in life; they fixate on things they're good at.

[ A pause. ]

I'm good at figuring things out. Fixing them. [ Or destroying them. ] And for that I need every piece I can get.