asgardmeridiem | JULY INTRO MINGLE

Entry tags:

JULY INTRO MINGLE

Who: Newbies and anyone who wishes to greet them!
What: Getting used to the city
When: Days 474 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 43 - 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 July. If you're ICly introing during an event, make sure you take that into account. Thank you!

Have fun! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Immediately Bran's cheeks go bright, both with irritation and embarrassment. He's too old for a tantrum, and angrily throwing snow certainly reeks of that sort of childish behavior. He furrows his brow, and uses his arms to pull himself into a more upright position.]

I wasn't trying to throw it at you.

[It comes out too high and nervous for his liking, and Bran's frown deepens, looking up at the older boy with steeled hesitance. He tries his best to feel like a prince, despite his frost-reddened nose and the snow soaking through his clothing.]

... I'm not supposed to be here. Can you tell me how to leave?

[ The kid's expression, the note of fear in his voice, chases Killua's irritation back quickly. For a moment, he looks almost guilty, biting back a little sigh as he spreads his hands in a gesture between defeat and apology. ]

It's fine. You missed anyway.

[ Sticking his hands back in his pockets, Killua walks closer, nodding at the spot next to the smaller boy, silently asking permission to sit with him. ]

So you just got here too, huh? You look just as happy about it as I feel.

[Bran gives a faint dip of a nod. Any company is better than another hour alone on the snowy street, even if this boy might not turn out to be any help.]

An hour ago, by now. The lady who brought me out of the castle, she wouldn't listen.

[He'd argued and shoved and told her again and again that he needed to go back, his friends could be in danger. But she just turned a deaf ear.]

[ Killua sits down near him, apparently not minding the cold even though he's wearing shorts. ]

Yeah, I know.

It's been a day, for me. Sucks.

[Bran isn't sure what relevance the word "sucks" has in this context, but he does take notice to the unusually short pants as the boy sits down. He looks and dresses unlike anyone Bran's seen back home.]

Aren't you cold?

I guess. [ He shrugs, resting his elbows on his knees and glancing sideways at the boy. ]

It's not a big deal.

How old are you?

Nine.

[He says it with a time that would suggest nine years are far more impressive than they truly are.]

Aw, man... you're just a kid, aren't ya?

Why'd they bring you here for?

I am not!

[Nine is practically grown-up, okay Killua?]

And it must have been a mistake. I can't fight in a war.

Doesn't matter if you could or not, if you ask me. I think it's stupid and cowardly to force other people to fight your battles for you either way.

An army should serve out of loyalty and love, not fear.

[ A shrug. He doesn't dispute the point, but that wasn't what he was getting at. Still, the kid is young, clearly not a fighter. Killua agrees with him, inwardly: it was wrong to bring him here, defenseless. ]

Aren't you cold?

No. I'm from the North.

[He is very cold, and very stubborn, and he isn't fooling anyone.]

You never said how old you are. You must have more years than you look, to think I'm so young.

Older than you! [ He grins, enigmatically. It's not a secret, but it's more fun getting the kid to guess. Besides, even if Killua is only a few years older, he's had training, experience fighting and killing nearly since be was barely old enough to walk. It's different. ]

What's your name, anyway?

[That earns him an annoyed purse of the lips in response. He's long-accustomed to feeling like the helpless child in comparison to others, and those feelings are certainly fresh right now.]

It's Bran.

I'm Killua. [ He doesn't offer a handshake, but the look earns Bran a smile and a shrug, and he stops teasing. ]

I'm thirteen.

...Are you in this district too?

I don't know. She said something about... something about "hell".

Yeah, that's what I was told too. It's the name of the god. Whatever that means.

I don't know a whole lot more than you do, I guess.

They aren't my gods. I haven't heard of any of them where I'm from.

[He may not have prayed to them in a long time, but Bran has always kept his belief in the old gods of his family. He likes believing in things he can't see; it means that magic could happen.]

Yeah, I've never heard of them either. It all sounds like crap to me. Not that being disbelieving has helped me get out any faster.

[ He sighs, shaking his head, and looks back over at Bran. ]

Have you been inside the big house yet? Apparently, every district's got one. That's where we're supposed to live.

[Bran shakes his head, but doesn't meet Killua's glance.]

I haven't been anywhere yet, not since the maid left me.

They'll give you a room. Clothes and food, too. Not that it's anything fancy.

[ He stands, putting his hands in his pockets and glancing down at Bran expectantly. ]

I'm gonna head back there. You should come with me.

[Bran's face pales, his cold-reddened features standing out.]

I can't. You can go on yourself.

So you're just gonna sit here until-- What? You freeze?

I don't think waiting it out is going to get you sent home any faster, kid.

[Frustration suddenly flashes in his eyes, particularly at the word "kid".]

I can't walk.

Edited 2014-07-23 04:26 (UTC)

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