VIDEO; UN:ODINSON

[deemed]

So we are to fight. [Odinson is freshly bathed, his hair tied back in a knot. There's a new light in his eyes at the promise of this. Killing robots is a task well-suited to him. This he can do.]

Being newly-come to this group, I know few of you, and few of you know me. I would know the skills and knowledge of those I will fight alongside. Or die alongside, if this enemy is truly so formidable. [The half-smile that follows indicates he doesn't quite believe that's a possibility.]

Myself, I am Odinson, of Asgardia, God of Thunder. [There's the slightest hesitation there, for anyone who'll notice such a thing. Something unsaid.] I have fought across the nine realms of my universe, and will fight here with hammer or blade or my fists until the enemy is routed or I am slain. If any wish to spar or learn to fight in the days before we are summoned to Oska, you have only to call on me.

Likewise, any tacticians or those with knowledge of Oska or the enemy, share your knowledge. We ought have some plan before we are shipped back. [Is that sarcasm???]

Comments

[scrap_metal]

[ now it's Genos turn to be offended. But he's also worried that the critique is absolutely valid... was he doing a disservice to his teacher the entire time? ]

What is a "convincing manner" then, do enlighten me.

audio

[deemed]

[He switches to audio, because though Thor is no herald, no wordsmith, he knows how a tale is told.]

Harken, friend, and listen close to the tale of the great Wyrm Fafnir.

Out among the ten realms, amid the miriad twinkling stars of the endless universe there was once the land of Nastrond. The people of this land were evil, their hearts black as coal and their eyes sought only evil. They were a curse upon their neighbours and the vilest, most wicked one among them was their king: Fafnir. Tales of his evil would make e'en the hardiest warrior weep.

One day report of this evil king and his evil people reached the ear of Odin All-Father, the one-eyed, who had hung upon Yggdrasil for nine days and nine nights. Anger was roused in his heart and he rode with the hosts of Asgard to Nastrond and smote it to the ground, slaying all the people who lived there- for in his wisdom Odin knew that they revelled in their wickedness.

But! Not all were slain. No, left in the charred ruins of his once thriving land was Fafnir, the fallen king, who had been left for dead and was kept alive only through the strength of his hatred for Asgard and it's king. His hatred nourished him as he dragged himself from the land and brought him one night to a pool, where he quenched his thirst until he could not drink another drop. Little did he know, Fafnir the wicked had found a magic pool, and it's enchanted water restored both his strength, but increased it ten- no - one hundred fold. For Fafnir, thanks to the power of this magic well, found himself transformed into a great dragon.

On discovering this, he threw back his great head and roared an oath to the skies- that he would bring ruin to the house of he who had destroyed Nastond. He, Fafnir, would lay waste to the house of Odin and all his kin. And now he was a dragon- strong as a hundred thousand men, able to breathe fire hot enough to melt bare rock, capable of flying a thousand leagues in an hour - who could stop him and his terrible revenge?

[He pauses, waiting for the customary shouts of Thor! Thor the son of Odin could!- but they won't come, because the audience doesn't know the story.]

There is only one is all the ten realms, amid the miriad twinkling stars of the endless universe, who can. And I, Odinson, champion of Asgard, am that one.

[Another pause as he shrugs, unashamed that he's named himself hero and aware that his skill at this is poor at best.] If you wish to truly know how such tales are told, seek out Loki. He would spin you a tale that would have you feeling the dragon's hot breath on your very skin.

audio right back

[scrap_metal]

[ If there was something like grumpy silence, it's happening right now. Genos doesn't say a word to stop the story, nor participate as the audience should. To say that he's annoyed by the sudden criticism would be very delicate of putting it.

But what he's even more disgruntled at, is that bastard might have a point

Because this story flows good, it's really, really nice to listen to. Not really the style of an audiobook, but still he can see why it's engaging- he just doesn't know exactly what makes it so.

Genos lets the silence linger a little longer after last words are spoken, before finally speaking. ]

Loki, I'll remember that name. Is he that much better than you? Does he also make himself a focus of the tale?

[deemed]

There are some who call him silver-tongue. [Odinson's tone is... wistful? regretful? not even he knows.]

There is no shame is boasting of one's accomplishments in Asgard. [Besides- the tale of Fafnir is one commonly told to children, so doesn't involve the skill the other Eddas call for. The tale of Fafnir is one Odinson feels capable of telling here and now. If he were called on to tell the story of Odin hanging on the world-tree, he'd want longer to prepare.]

[scrap_metal]

This was a good tale, I will give you that. [ Genos, on the other hand, sounds resigned. Yes, he can admit defeat ]

I will take in mind what you said, and will seek that storytelling specialist.

[deemed]

Take note, that was merely the beginning. The full tale would last us well into the night. [He sounds very wistful now, longing for the comfort of a fire, a full belly, and a mug of mead to see the night through.]

But I wish you well in your quest to better praise your master.