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Post by Stephen Vyrrson on Mar 2, 2014 19:59:44 GMT
That should do it.
Stephen finished manipulating the firing mechanism on his new dart gun and put the tiny screwdriver down, pointing the weapon at a sandbag located in a recess of his shop. Any sandbag with that job had been lovingly named “Axel” (the joke itself relating to its location in a machine shop) and the name was painted on the burnt, scorched, and torn burlap.
Stephen squeezed the trigger and the dart whizzed across the room and pierced straight through the one-hundred and third incarnation of Axel the sandbag. Sand leaked out, grains spilling onto the metal floor.
Ah, shit.
The inventor sighed and put the weapon down, deciding to do something else related to the dart gun project, rather than sit trying to tune the amount of force used by the projectile. He approached a table and sat down, peering into a small cage on the desk.
Hey, buddy.
Inside the cage was a young sker’ish, the jellyfish-like creature hovering about as pleasantly as a betentacled blob of nervous tissue could. He prodded it with a pen, and it simply bounced off the wall of the cage. Pulling on some gloves, he took the small organism and placed it in a beaker, continuing to poke at it. Eventually it, seemed to get quite irritated and the dish colored with a small amount of pale venom. Placing it back in the cage, he poured the venom into an empty dart. Screwing the point on, Stephen placed it on a rack with several others of its kind.
He took a piece of paper from a stack and began to write on it in large text. To whom it may concern: Any and all captured sker’ish can be brought to Stephen Vyrrson’s machine shop in exchange for store credit. He quickly inked the outlined letters, making them large and dark so that even the most unobservant viking might see them.
He spun his swivel chair around once more as he grabbed the rack of poisoned darts, kicking off the ground to speed back towards the desk where he was working on the dart gun itself. Tinkering with the tension of the firing mechanism again, he loaded an empty dart and fired again.
Axel released a satisfying “thwack” as the dart pierced the burlap but did not go all the way through. Stephen grabbed another pen and took some quick notes.
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Post by Cedric Vyrrson on Mar 3, 2014 4:01:56 GMT
Cedric really wasn't in that good of a mood.
He'd just come from a battle with several Titanothain that had killed an agent and wounded another. It had also ruined his coat, but that was less of a concern. They had come out of the battle remarkably unharmed for the odds, but that didn't mean that everyone was completely alright, either.
Either way, before he returned to the Drakonborg, Ced just had to go visit his baby brother.
Admittedly, he often just hopped around to annoy Stephen. Ced was a wonderful older brother in that way, upholding the time-honored tradition of irritating the everliving excrement out of his sibling, with the occasional pranking, scaring, or otherwise just being bothersome.
Needless to say, Ced adored his brother.
As soon as he was in eyesight of the hangar-like building, Ced's demeanor changed entirely. He went from tired and world-weary, depressed from the loss of his comrades, into alert and impish once more, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
The Vetr swept into his brother's quaint little shop as quietly as possible, easily slipping through the open door into the expansive space. His tan coat, spattered along the edges with the blood of behemoths, made only a whisper as he quietly stepped over to his brother's desk, where there was a poster with particularly interesting-looking text. He wasn't so much sneaking as just walking quietly--but he was not, in this case, up to any particularly bad subterfuge.
Stephen, meanwhile, tinkered with a dart gun's firing mechanism. Cedric had learned a very long time ago to wait until he had put down the prototypes before doing any jumpscares--sneaking up on one of the Vyrrson boys was ill-advised when they were armed.
Thwack.
And thus, my cue!
Cedric picked up the thick parchment with an audible, and purposeful, rustle.
"To whom it may concern: Any and all captured sker’ish can be brought to Stephen Vyrrson’s machine shop in exchange for store credit," he read aloud, voice clear and projecting through the airy space in a most theatrical, Shakespearean manner to echo back at him.
He turned to his brother with a grin and one blue eyebrow raised. "Sker'ish, eh? Should I mobilize the Drakonrhedi? Wings of Slayers to hunt down enough sker'ish for my baby brother?"
Ced put down the poster again and let his gaze meander about the room, eventually alighting on a rack of jellyfish-esque blobs. Ahh, sker'ish. He strode over slowly, coming up beside them to examine them.
He pulled out a knife from his pocket and carefully prodded one with the hilt. Sker'ish were endlessly fun to annoy, as brainless as they were.
"Say, Stephie, they look a little nervous to me." He tilted his head to the side, poked the beast once more, and then pocketed the knife. "Don't you think?"
That was a pun. That was so a pun, and Vyrrsons were excellent at puns. Or, at least, Cedric was.
| Tags: Stephen VyrrsonInspiration: Mind's Eye - Feed My Revolver Notes: AYYYY HAVE A BAD POST /dances |
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Post by Stephen Vyrrson on Mar 9, 2014 22:23:41 GMT
The parchment he had just written rustled.
Who…?
A blue-haired man read the document aloud. Stephen sighed. His brother so often simply -appeared- and it was beginning to wear on him. Of course, he loved his brother. He would rather keep that to himself.
Covered in blood, are we? I do hope you don’t need a gunblade repaired… it’s been only a week or two.
“Sker’ish, eh? Should I mobilize the Drakonrhedi?”
Stephen’s brows came down in a classic unamused expression. “Cedric, I —“
“Wings of slayers to hunt down enough sker’ish for my baby brother?”
The inventor sighed. It was always like this. “No, no. They’ll come in, though slowly. People collect them for the money.”
His brother crossed the room, fiddling with a knife and prodding one of his captive sker’ish.
“Say, Stephie…”
Stephen’s eye twitched as it always did when someone called him Stephie. Fortunately for his sanity, it was only ever Cedric who did so.
“… they look a little nervous to me. Don’t you think?”
A pun? Hardly surprising.
Stephen sat back in his chair, wheeling it over to the cage. “I think they look just fine. I should let them out for exercise, they’re looking a bit flabby.”
He laughed for an instant at his own joke, then rolled back over to the table with the darts, picking up a rack of twelve poison-filled darts. “Cedric, could you do me a favor and test these on behemoths of varying sizes and tell me the results?”
He pulled out some research notes on the impact of sker’ish toxin on behemoth psychology. “According to what I’ve been looking into the venom will inspire great fear in any behemoth once it enters the bloodstream, rendering them effectively helpless… assuming they don’t go berserk.”
He grinned.
R&D at its finest.
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Oddi
Hrafnung 
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Post by Oddi on Mar 10, 2014 4:30:17 GMT
Oddi was hunched over a desk in the corner, creating a copy of a particularly lengthy section of Stephen's research notes. His own handwriting was becoming rather fluid and nicely rounded, he felt. Especially when compared with the hastily written, often tarnished original pages of text.
Perhaps he could become a scribe? No, what was he saying. That would be boring. This was boring.
He put down his pen and scratched at his nose, amusing himself by rolling the implement back and forth across the paper. The satisfying clackity clack brought him some measure of entertainment, however vague. Perhaps it would make a better noise if he flung it on the floor. And then stood up and screamed loudly, and flung himself out of the window to go and buy some liquorice. The look on his mentor's face would be priceless!
Wait, what? Oddvarr, what are you doing? He'll probably be annoyed if you don't get this finished today.
The youth stretched, ran a hand through his hair, and went to resume his rather tedious task. A sudden voice made him gasp, jerk upright, and spin around to see if he was being scolded for slacking off. However...that was not Stephen's voice, and that was not Stephen standing in the tarnished coat, reading aloud with far more theatricality than his mentor could ever attain.
"To whom it may concern: Any and all captured sker’ish can be brought to Stephen Vyrrson’s machine shop in exchange for store credit."
Oddi had come across Stephen's brother one or two times before, though he hadn't exchanged more than a handful of words with the man and doubted that he even knew his name. He did have rather impressive hair though. It was very blue. Oddi wondered whether he ought to dye his own hair blue, or if perhaps purple would suit him better. Perhaps he could just get some highlights. That could be splendid. But then again, that blue was such a nice colour.
They started discussing the sker’ish and then the dart gun, and Oddi's mind again began to wander. He wondered why the newcomer's coat was so splattered with blood. It was a little disconcerting, but Stephen didn't seem too fussed, and his brother was a member of the Drakonrhedi after all. Oddi struggled to remember what rank, but that particular detail eluded him. That coat was probably quite spiffy once upon a time. He wondered if the Drakonrhedi would tell him where he got it, if he asked nicely. But maybe it was made on the Drakonborg. That would be unfortunate. But then, maybe he could ask his mother to get him one made for his birthday?
The young Viking came back to reality once more, as Stephen was finishing his little spiel.
"rendering them effectively helpless… assuming they don’t go berserk.”
It occurred to him that the sker'ish would probably need feeding some time soon. Or would then? Had he fed them already? Had Stephen fed them already? On that note, had Oddi himself actually had anything to eat that day?
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Post by Cedric Vyrrson on Mar 11, 2014 2:51:47 GMT
As usual, Cedric had managed to annoy his brother simply through his entrance. The Vetr grinned to himself. Stephie was one of the very best people to irritate, if only because he responded so well to Ced's shtick. By this point, his act had grown so completely old to his brother that the poor man simply had to endure it with exasperation.
“No, no. They’ll come in, though slowly. People collect them for the money.”
Ced hid a grin, knowing full well that he'd never intended to actually use the organization's resources for such a simple task. Of course, if Stephie really wanted assistance, his brother wasn't about to hesitate--but Cedric could trust his baby brother to handle himself.
“I think they look just fine. I should let them out for exercise, they’re looking a bit flabby.”
He joined his brother in laughter. They could both appreciate a bad joke.
"Oh, look, you've wounded them. Now they're blubbering around in their cages. You've turned them into jelly, you mean old badger."
That was technically three puns, the last being a reference to Stephie's animal form, and that meant three points for the count.
“Cedric, could you do me a favor and test these on behemoths of varying sizes and tell me the results?”
The Vetr turned with one eyebrow raised eagerly, lips in a questioning "o" shape.
“According to what I’ve been looking into the venom will inspire great fear in any behemoth once it enters the bloodstream, rendering them effectively helpless… assuming they don’t go berserk.”
Ced matched his brother's grin.
"It would be my personal pleasure," he replied, coming over to take the rack of darts from Stephie. "Any particular mechanism I need for firing these, or can I just stuff them in a gun?"
He usually kept two gunblades and a rifle on him in the field, so guns were in definitely in abundance.
For the first actual time, Ced cast a glance all around the office. "Oh, hey, Oddvar. Hey, Axel. Stephie treating you two well?"
He knew the testing sandbag fairly well, having nearly been mistaken for it a few times, and had met Stephie's apprentice a couple of times before. The boy seemed like a nice, if timid, child. Not unlike either of the Vyrrson brothers, then.
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Post by Stephen Vyrrson on Mar 17, 2014 15:56:25 GMT
"Oh, look, you've wounded them. Now they're blubbering around in their cages. You've turned them into jelly, you mean old badger.”)) Stephen laughed again, enjoying his brother’s company. Despite any annoyance that Cedric brought, he tended to bring just as much, if not more, amusement and enjoyment whenever he visited Stephen. As he presented the darts, Cedric suddenly looked very, very interested. Naturally, Stephen was pleased about this. Stephen quickly explained the intention and effect of the darts while a grin spread across his brother’s face. "It would be my personal pleasure. Any particular mechanism I need for firing these, or can I just stuff them in a gun?")) The inventor was happy that he Cedric was going to help him, and even more pleased that he cared about mechanism of delivery. Stephen shrugged. “They’re designed to be fired out of a dart gun, but I don’t think anything bad will happen if you load them into a gun. I had that purpose in mind when I designed the dart. You should be alright.”“Now,” he said, “hopefully if you manage to berserk a titanothain nothing terrible happens. I’m working on something else big, but it’s a surprise for you, so I can’t tell you anything just yet.”Of course, what Stephen was working on was top secret. Ideally he’d be able to give it to Cedric sooner rather than later, but he didn’t know how long it was going to take to work out any bugs with it. Cedric turned and addressed his apprentice and target dummy. Stephen smiled, and beckoned Oddvar (who he had noticed appeared to be lost in space until moments ago,) over. “Oddi, there’s a crate of these darts no bigger than my head underneath the table in the welding area. Could you grab it and carry it to wherever Ced’s going when he leaves?”-- OddiCedric Vyrrson |
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Oddi
Hrafnung
Posts: 5
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Post by Oddi on Mar 27, 2014 8:08:17 GMT
"Oh, hey, Oddvar. Hey, Axel. Stephie treating you two well?"
"Oh, he's been very good, thanks," said Oddi. "You look awful. I mean, spiffy. Of course I meant spiffy. I probably look awful, I meant."
He bit his tongue and chewed at his lip, cheeks flushing scarlet. Why did he have to think aloud? Of course the blood and mud stains were unsightly, but it had likely been a very grand coat once. Maybe it had even had special powers, or acted like armour or something. And now he'd probably gone and embarrassed them all.
Stephen beckoned to him and said his name, stirring the boy from his thoughts. Thankful at having some purpose to distract him from his misdemeanor, Oddi wandered towards his mentor.
“...there’s a crate of these darts no bigger than my head underneath the table in the welding area. Could you grab it and carry it to wherever Ced’s going when he leaves?”
"Okay," was the apprentice's response.
He went into a little side room, in which stood the welding bench and some tools. More interesting, however, was the butterfly caught in a spider's web just outside the window. There did not seem to be any spider present. Oddi wondered if he should go and rescue the insect, or if there was no point in doing so. Hadn't he heard something about dusty stuff on butterflies' wings, which stopped them from flying when it rubbed off? He wasn't entirely sure. It sounded convincing enough though. Poor little thing.
Oddi went over to the table and crouched down beside it, having made a mental note to come back for the butterfly later, if it was still there. He found the box with ease, dragging it from under the table with one hand before nestling it in the crook of his left arm, right hand held protectively in front of the object. It was not overly heavy, compared to some of the things he had to shift around. Like that mystery box from the other week. Oddi still liked to tell himself that it had been full of gold. Gold was shiny, and cool to the touch, and also happily valuable. But very heavy. It was probably gold then. Or, at least, silver. Maybe medals?
He returned to the main room, remembering that Stephen's brother was a member of the Drakonrhedi. Was his drake around, then? Oddi glanced about hopefully as he made his way towards the two men, just in case it had somehow managed to avoid detection thus far. He had seen snow drakes a few times, but not up close for a while now. They were very lovely creatures. But much to his disappointment, the animal was nowhere to be seen.
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Post by Cedric Vyrrson on Mar 29, 2014 22:00:33 GMT
“They’re designed to be fired out of a dart gun, but I don’t think anything bad will happen if you load them into a gun. I had that purpose in mind when I designed the dart. You should be alright.”
Cedric nodded. "Alright, well, if the gun blows up in my face you're going to have to repair it." He grinned. His brother would have to repair his weaponry no matter what.
“Now, hopefully if you manage to berserk a titanothain nothing terrible happens."
"Well, yeah, that was my hope too." He refrained from thinking about what had just happened in regards to titanothains and Drakonrhedi getting chomped in half. He tried to keep happy around his brother.
"I’m working on something else big, but it’s a surprise for you, so I can’t tell you anything just yet.”
The Vetr pouted. He hated official secrets--he was supposed to be the one with the secrets, as the Vetr of Stalkers and all that. After all, he was supposedly one of the leaders of the international peacekeeping group the Drakonrhedi, who policed the five clans and fought the greatest enemies humans had ever faced.
"Oh, he's been very good, thanks. You look awful. I mean, spiffy. Of course I meant spiffy. I probably look awful, I meant."
Ced smiled. 'Spiffy'? I'm spiffy? His grin turned crazy, the praise obviously to his liking. “Spiffy, eh?” He gave a quick chuckle. “Thanks. Spiffy is definitely what I’m going for.”
Of course, his current state of clothing was probably a little less than spiffy. But then again his current state of mind was probably a little less than refreshed. He’d just come from a titanothain chase, after all.
“Okay.” Oddi got up and went into one of the side rooms that Ced knew to line his brother’s workshop.
“I have to say, Stephie,” Ced murmured, as to keep Oddi from hearing, “Is that boy just shy or really that meek?”
He remembered once being so quiet, the memories eliciting a slight frown. Being that meek certainly hadn’t been any fun. Perhaps he could help out Oddi a little—after all, he was a kindred spirit of sorts. Well, then…. It looked like getting the boy some Shakespeare would be the best course of action, then. Hopefully, the little Hrafnung would take the same lesson that Ced had, and turn out just as jovial and wonderfully insane.
It would drive poor Stephen crazy, but at least the boy would gain a little heart from it.
As Oddi returned, Ced once again regained his normal demeanor. “Excellent, more to test with! I don’t suppose you’ve got any idea of dosages. What’s your estimate on the mass of the venom in each one? I can run some quick calculations in the field, then. And Oddi, I promise I’ll take the short route back to the ship this time around.”
NOTES
I'M SORRY THIS SUCKS AND IS UNFORMATTED COMPUTER HATES ME
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Post by Stephen Vyrrson on Apr 7, 2014 2:58:21 GMT
"Alright, well, if the gun blows up in my face you're going to have to repair it.")) Stephen grinned. "Yes, but your face is beyond even my expertise." He enjoyed poking fun at his brother, especially when he so graciously presented himself for a verbal lashing like he just did. Oddi spoke up, and Cedric seemed amused. “Thanks. Spiffy is definitely what I’m going for.”)) The inventor laughed. "That's what you're calling it, now?" “I have to say, Stephie, Is that boy just shy or really that meek?”)) Stephen raised his hands, pointing his fingers together. "Stephen. S T E P H E N. And he's quite shy, but very polite. A nice lad." As Oddi walked away momentarily, he looked to Ced. "I hope he grows into focus. If he's to take over the shop someday." Stephen looked solemn, even morose for a moment, then perked up and reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small red box. "Incendiary rounds. I figured you'd enjoy them." He smiled, tossing the box Ced's way. “Excellent, more to test with! I don’t suppose you’ve got any idea of dosages. What’s your estimate on the mass of the venom in each one? I can run some quick calculations in the field, then. And Oddi, I promise I’ll take the short route back to the ship this time around.” )) Stephen winked. "We don't exactly know the effect of a single "dose" as you'd call it. So to answer how much of an effect you'll get from one dart... let's say 'some' and work from there, no?" A grin spread across the inventor's face. As much as his brother sometimes agitated him, it was great having a fearless killing machine turned guinea pig to do your field testing for you. He gestured to the rest of the shop. "Business is good! Just the other day they called me up to do repairs on the Lennarting fleet. Apparently tensions are rising between Lennarting and Bjornung, and it's heating up. Perhaps you should check it out?" One of the main advantages of being in the business of repairing things that go 'boom' is that Stephen tended to know who was fighting and exactly who they were fighting almost all the time. In fact, he was often ahead of Cedric and the Drakonrhedi in this regard, as Vikings tended to only report inter-clan violence to the Drakonrhedi when they were clearly losing and needed a helping hand (or needed the violence to stop to recover.) -- Cedric Vyrrson Oddi |
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Oddi
Hrafnung
Posts: 5
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Post by Oddi on Apr 11, 2014 8:30:11 GMT
"And Oddi, I promise I’ll take the short route back to the ship this time around.”
Oddi snapped back to reality, blinking in some confusion. Short way? Back?
Ah, the crate. He was carrying it. For Ced.
Of course!
"Business is good! Just the other day they called me up to do repairs on the Lennarting fleet. Apparently tensions are rising between Lennarting and Bjornung, and it's heating up. Perhaps you should check it out?"
Oddi frowned. He hadn't known that! Or had he just forgotten? In any case, that wasn't good. Stephen was part of Lennarting, the clan famous for its beautiful cat forms. Oddi liked cats. Or, liked them a lot more than he liked bears, anyway. Not that Stephen's form was any kind of feline, as far as he knew. He hadn't seen it, but he was sure he had heard that it was...something with a snout. Oddi remembered that much.
He wondered again what his own animal form would be. Perhaps a bird- Oddi didn't particularly like birds (they squawked too much, and had horrible beady eyes), but at least they could fly. Or maybe some kind of gecko? That would be perfect- they were small, fast, and agile. He could climb all over Midgardborg, see lots of new things, and...well, see lots of new things!
He'd had a pet gecko once as well, named Charles. His mother had given him Charles when she'd come to visit, saying that she'd saved him from a behemoth. Oddi had wanted to name him Jemimaberry, but his cousin had said it was silly and that "Charles" was a far more ordinary name. After all this time, Oddi finally agreed; but he still felt that "Jemimaberry" had a certain ring to it. Maybe he would name one of his daughters that, if he ever had daughters. Or "Delilanine". Something like that. "Delilanine Thalia". He would have to name her after his friend as well, of course. She had been a good friend, and he missed her. He still hoped that a letter from her would arrive for him one day, but he figured in his heart that she would be much too busy for such things. Ah, well. He could ask his mother how she was the next time she stopped by.
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Post by Cedric Vyrrson on Apr 13, 2014 19:30:18 GMT
"Stephen. S T E P H E N. And he's quite shy, but very polite. A nice lad."
Cedric smiled and shook his head slowly. "You're Stephie to me, dearest brother," he replied with his sweetest smile. To be honest, he was probably going to get punched sooner or later, but hey, when was that something new? The Vyrrson brothers had the occasional roughhousing. It was perfectly normal for a brother relationship, especially when one was a Vetr and the other a badger.
"I hope he grows into focus. If he's to take over the shop someday."
The Vetr shrugged and gave a little nod. "I'm certain he will. He seems intelligent enough, and he'll probably get used to the entire mercantile fiasco sooner or later."
He was not oblivious to his brother's rather saddened expression, eyes narrowing slightly at the solemnity that came over his brother. Stephen was not often given to such bouts of depression, and Cedric could feel his instinctive protectiveness beginning to come over him.
But his brother brightened soon enough, so the Vetr put it aside as simple regret about the uncaring march of time. If it were to come up again, however, he'd be forced to take Big Brother action.
"Incendiary rounds. I figured you'd enjoy them."
Ced grinned like the pyromaniac that he was. "Oh, you certainly know how to brighten a Cedric's day," he responded as he caught the box, eagerly popping it open like a child on Christmas. "Combining two of my favourite things. Simply wonderful."
"We don't exactly know the effect of a single "dose" as you'd call it. So to answer how much of an effect you'll get from one dart... let's say 'some' and work from there, no?"
The Vetr nodded. "Sounds like a great plan. I'll just keep shooting and see what happens. Not too far off from usual Drakonrhedi tactics, actually."
It was almost sad how true that was, actually. The Drakonrhedi were remarkably bullheaded, and even for all their supposed abilities and pride, their tactics still could be rather brash.
"Business is good! Just the other day they called me up to do repairs on the Lennarting fleet. Apparently tensions are rising between Lennarting and Bjornung, and it's heating up. Perhaps you should check it out?"
Cedric sighed. "Tensions are always rising," he replied rather overdramatically, rather wistfully gazing into the distance--but only for a moment, snapping back to his usual self. "Thanks, though. I'll definitely look into it. Clan wars are something we try to avoid."
He glanced around. "If that's it, I think it might be best for me to be off. I've got some new bullets to test, after all."
| Tags: Oddi, Stephen VyrrsonInspiration: ayyy none Notes: wow ok this sucks wasn't sure where we were bringing this thread so i can always end it here or have him stay longer. |
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