OCTOBER INTRO MINGLE

[asgardmods]

Who: Newbies and anyone who wishes to greet them!
What: Getting used to the city
When: Days 337 and forward
Where: Anywhere in town!
Rating: PG-13 tops! If it gets worse, move to a private log please.

[Please include your location and the IC day (ex. Day 338 - this can be found in the schedule) in your top-level comment or your subject line when starting a thread! It can be any welcome hall, major attraction, or just out an about in any district. For newbies making a top-level thread, you may include your character's name/canon/house in your subject line if you'd like, to make housemates easy to find! :) If a God is needed or wanted, please ping the mods and depending on availability we might be able to throw them in where asked.

Also, keep an eye on the event schedule for October! If you're ICly introing during an event, make sure you take that into account. Thank you!

Have fun!]

Comments

[1066]

[ now that he's made a complete arse of himself with next to no chance of saving face, Shaun's decided he's going to take his sweet time in composing himself. it's either that, or once the mong starts blubbering, it's hard for him to pack it in.

but he manages. sniffles and wipes at his face until his cheeks are streaked with pink and his eyes are a bit bleary but his glasses are on right and there's no longer snot dribbling down over his lips. what a nice mental image. in a way, he's almost grateful this isn't Desmond.

but wait. hold up. just a moment.

he's. as in, he is. Shaun shakes his head and barks a bitter laugh: ] Think you're using the wrong contraction there. 'He's' means he is, and doesn't extend to he was. [ not debating the actual content of that sentence because yes, Desmond was a good man. and clearly it was all too good to be true, him being here, him having another chance, Shaun getting a chance to punch him properly... ]

[pushesgently]

[There's no way that Altaïr can not notice the tears, snot and general undignified state of the man's face, but he does them both a favor and pretends not to see. And when he speaks again, there's something for more important to talk about.]

I am not.

[How to break this to someone who's clearly already been broken? At least this is undoubtedly good news, if nigh unbelievable.]

You're a new arrival, yes? Those who pluck us from our homes and bring us from this place aren't bound by time. Nor, it seems, by the end of life.

Desmond is here in Asgard. And he is alive.

[1066]

[ and for once, instead of launching into a rant about how the man is stupid, mistaken, ignorant, or some other unpleasant adjective, Shaun just stares at him. stares and tries very hard to place why this face is so familiar, besides the fact he's seen Desmond wearing the same one. and takes the news as one would take an announcement of the daily specials at a divey diner.

Yes. [ said slowly. ] That... [ a breath. ] Good. Yes. Good. [ he swallows. ] ... something tells me you're not Desmond's long-lost brother, are you.

[pushesgently]

[For the first time in this encounter, that gets a smile. The remark may not be intended to be funny, but it's more than a little amusing to him.]

No, I'm not. Desmond is my grandson...many times over.

My name is Altaïr.

[Wait for it.]

[1066]

Right, okay, yeah. Sure.

[ crossing his arms and pulling back a death breath. ]

And I'm King Arthur of the Britons. Fabulous to make your acquaintance. [ not that it's the strangest thing that he's been told today, but this is a lot... more personal that being relocated to Asgard. and denial's much easier than just dealing with the truth, so. ]

[pushesgently]

[And that gets a raised eyebrow.]

I very much doubt that, if you know Desmond. The tales of Arthur and his knights were but legends during my wife's childhood.

[1066]

Ooooh god. [ reaching up to pull his glasses off and rub at his eye with two fingers. ] Good gracious in the heavens above, who did I piss off to deserve this? [ sighing. ]

You're not joking, are you? [ meeting the man's gaze (which is much easier due to the fact he cannot see shit. ] I'm really talking to Altaïr Ibn La'ahad, standing the middle of Asgard, conversing about my dead colleague who's been miraculously resurrected. Fan-tastic. Just what I wanted to do with my day, you know?

[pushesgently]

[Well. He's grown used to awe and respect from those who came after him and know his name, but while exasperation and indignation surprise him, they don't especially bother him.]

They don't ask permission before taking anyone here. It's one of their more irritating qualities.

You worked with Desmond?

[That makes him an Assassin. Though not one like those he's come to know.]