"Have you met Ivar? He's fucking crazy," Sigurd retorts even though it is a bit of a blight on his pride to admit that he isn't putting Ivar in his place for what can only be interpreted as a healthy dose of fear about the unhinged actions that his youngest brother might take against him. Ivar doesn't love anyone, much less Sigurd and there would be no loyalty if Sigurd went at him directly.
He certainly hadn't meant it as a slight toward Sigurd, but he doesn't think of the way it might sound on the other side of it. "Even crazy can get what it deserves." He says with a smirk. He has no idea the things his words may be turning into in his friend's head. He's mostly reckless anyway, he'd find a way to support it in the end, probably.
Sigurd had vaguely agreed with Sigurd but soon after it was time for everyone to gather to eat and talk about what the next plans were.
Ivar had dominated the conversation, constantly talking over Ubbe and disagreeing with both Ubbe and Bjorn over what they should even though they were certainly much older and wiser. Ivar was full of himself after the victory of York and feeling like he had made better choices than Ubbe had.
Eventually, Sigurd had had enough and had started arguing with Ivar. The argument quickly went away from substance to the hurtful insults that they would throw at each other before Ivar throws a knife at Sigurd full force and hitting him in the chest.
Sigurd is surprised at first but then as he steps forward, pulling the axe out he only makes it a few steps before collapsing. Hvitserk and Ubbe are quick to move to him and then he's being jostled around away to one of the tents set up. He's not dead but he won't last much longer.
Kol is little more than an observer of the conversation, he doesn't have a place in it and he's content simply seeing where it goes. There's an amused smirk at the first remark Sigurd makes to Ivar.
However, his amusement at the brotherly tiff is cut short when suddenly, aivar hurls an axe straight at Sigurd. He's stunned, and angry, only keeping himself in check because the commotion of two of the others rushing to his friend's side and carting him off to a tent to be looked at more closely.
Everyone else is busy muttering amongst themselves, distracted and unnoticing of the glare, accompanied by a show of his true face in Ivar's direction--eyes dangerously dark, like a warning sign, with too dark and prominent veins raised around the edges of his eyes. It's barely a flash, quick enough the younger Viking would likely question if he saw what he thought he had at all. And then Kol is on the heels of the others, stopping just outside the edge of the tent before he speaks.
"I don't have time to explain, but I can help." He just needs an invitation first. Bloody magic rules.
Sigurd is mostly out of it by the time that they reach the tent but he hears Kol's voice as they set him down. It's hard to hold onto any semblance of consciousness and he only vaguely registers the sound of Ubbe inviting Kol inside the tent. He wants to say something but he can't. Even as black is pulling at the edges of his vision and he almost can't even feel the pain anymore he can't believe that Ivar had really done it this time.
He'd really never thought Ivar would kill him, not like that.
As soon as he's granted permission to enter, Kol rushes to Sigurd's side. "Don't you die on me, yet, you prat." He mumbles before letting his fangs slice into his own wrist and letting a bit of blood drip into his friend's mouth. Now, at least when he died, it would only be temporary.
The words don't really sink into Sigurd's consciousness and neither does Kol's actions, though be assured that Ubbe and Hvitserk are looking confused and quickly asking questions. Is he harming Sigurd? What strange ritual was this. It's not as if it was anything like a Viking sacrifice even if there is blood involved. That's the least strange thing about it all.
Whatever Kol had done hadn't stopped Sigurd from dying and the brothers are less than happy when his breath stops. It's not as if they could understand the truth of what is happening.
Kol waves off their concerns, promising that everything will be fine. He's done this plenty of times, he knows how it works and anyone who has doubts will see in short order how right he is.
The others may not, but Kol hears it when his friend takes his first breath after death and he cants his head slightly to the side, "Sigurd?" he calls to him, curious if he's conscious again just yet.
The first thing Sigurd hears is his name, the voice pushing through the fog and confusion that's settling in with his waking. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing quite comes out at first.
"Kol?" the source and familiarity of the voice is pinned down.
It seems apparent to family that some witchcraft must have been at play.
He grins and kneels next to him again. "How ya feeling, mate? World's a lot louder, innit? Don't worry, it's a bit of a side-effect, but you'll get used to it."
There's...a lot to explain, but first he wants to see how Sigurd feels. Kol's guess? Ravenous.
Sigurd frowns because it’s true. It’s louder and just... more. He looks at Kol and there’s a million questions running through him. What does he mean side effect? Of what? Being axed almost to death by his little brother?
“Hungry,” the truth spills from his lips before he has time to think but after he says it he knows it to be true. “Kol... what’s going on?” He asks and he can see the confused expressions of his brothers and he needs and wants an explanation though the hunger is becoming more adamant of his attention.
He actually addresses the room as a whole for the question, though his attention is mostly focused on Sigurd. "Have you heard legends of the draugar?" He doesn't wait for responses from anyone before he continues. "The legends aren't...precisely right, but I told you there was a lot you didn't know about me-- surprise?"
The important part of this, however, is that he saved him, and Kol is hoping that goes over well enough to not make murdering a room full of people necessary. "That hunger is only going to get worse and you've got a day to decide... if you don't complete the transition within the time limit, you die for real."
Sigurd's brow furrows the word familiar enough. Floki loved to tell stories and so he's heard more than a few about them but Kol... sigurd wouldn't have really guessed this even though he knew there was plenty that he had not known about his friend.
"So if I don't want to die?" Sigurd queries, ignoring his brothers, who both look unsettled by the turn of events.
"You have to feed on human blood before a full day's gone." He shrugs a little. It's a simple choice, if he has an ounce of survivalist tendencies in him at all, as far as Kol is concerned.
"How?" Sigurd asks Kol, and maybe he's already sure that it's what he's going to do. He doesn't want to die but he probably doesn't fully understand it all.
For a Viking, drinking human blood isn't the weirdest thing ever...
"It's easy, I'll show you." He gets to his feet and spins to face the room. "Any volunteers, or would you rather your brother died? Promise, I won't let him kill you." That may not sound reassuring, but once he gets a taste of blood in this new state, it'll be very reassuring he's there to stop it.
Hvitserk just shakes his head. That’s really no surprise and neither is it surprising when Ubbe says “I will.” He likely would have even if it is more likely that he would die but he’d trust this strange one. After all, had he not already proven himself.
Sigurd is not about to argue not caring if it might end up risky or not.
Kol has never really been much of a mentor to the people he's changed; they've always been so random and not generally of any use to him. But this time it's different. This time it's a friend, and he'd rather he understand than fall victim to wild bloodlust he can't control. Kol remembers how it feels, afterall.
He nods at Ubbe's agreement to be the volunteer, urging him closer, but stopping him before he's too close. Kol comes to stand behind Sigurd, his voice low and quiet. "You hear it, don't you? Every heartbeat in the room. Focus on Ubbe's...and only his..."
Once that little exercise is over, he beckons Sigurd's brother over and takes his wrist. It's a little less risky for a new vampire than going straight for the jugular. His eyes and the veins around them darken and his fangs reveal before he bites into the Viking's wrist, drawing blood. It will be more than enough to draw Sigurd's new nature to the surface. The scent of blood is too strong to ignore.
Sigurd listens closely to Kol and he finds that it's true. He can hear every heartbeat. It takes a moment to focus on just his oldest brother's. Then Kol is moving and Sigurd sees what he's about to do and he almost protests out of a habit -- or something -- maybe he's afraid of getting Ubbe hurt seriously but Ubbe is steadfast, as always.
The hunger demands to be satiated and the scent of fresh blood right there makes it impossible to ignore as he near instantly moves forward and all thoughts of worry over Ubbe's safety are blurred into the background.
"That's better, innit?" He watches the scene closely, ready to separate him from his brother before he goes too far, which is far too easy to do this early on. "Keep focused on his heartbeat. Don't let it slow too much. That's when you stop."
Focusing on anything but the blood is hard as he drinks greedily from his brother's wrist, there's no time to be repulsed either or worried but he's still trying to focus on the sound of Ubbe's heart.
When it starts to slow e doesn't pull away right away but soon enough he wrenches himself away reluctantly.
Sigurd looks up at Ubbe briefly before at Kol. Ubbes expression is conflicted and uncertain and it pricks at Sigurd uncomfortably. It’s essier to look at Kol.
“Yes,” he says, though he could have indulged more without any complaint.
"Good," he smiles again with a nod. "For now, you'll be confined to wandering at night, but I'll get it fixed for you as soon as I can." Because there is a way, naturally. "But I'd suggest you don't test the theory, because the sun is lethal now." To exercise the point, he removes the ring that has always been on his finger and wanders over to the window far on the other side of the room, holding his hand in the direct line of sunlight spilling in from outside. It hurts as the skin burns and sizzles, but this only gets to prove both a negative and a positive of this new transformation all at once.
"But I'll get a friend of mine to make you one of these," he holds the ring up and slips it back on as he walks back over, holding his hand up. The burns are already healing, and by the time he's standing in front of his friend again, there's not a scratch, nor any sign he'd been hurt at all.
Sigurd has so many questions but he doesn't know where to begin and he's wondering, what exactly he has gotten himself into -- but then again at least he is still alive to wonder he supposes. He watches as Kol puts his hand in the light and then soon after heals his brow furrowing.
"You really have gotten me into something now haven't you," he murmurs.
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All the same, the idea is turning in his head.
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Ivar had dominated the conversation, constantly talking over Ubbe and disagreeing with both Ubbe and Bjorn over what they should even though they were certainly much older and wiser. Ivar was full of himself after the victory of York and feeling like he had made better choices than Ubbe had.
Eventually, Sigurd had had enough and had started arguing with Ivar. The argument quickly went away from substance to the hurtful insults that they would throw at each other before Ivar throws a knife at Sigurd full force and hitting him in the chest.
Sigurd is surprised at first but then as he steps forward, pulling the axe out he only makes it a few steps before collapsing. Hvitserk and Ubbe are quick to move to him and then he's being jostled around away to one of the tents set up. He's not dead but he won't last much longer.
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However, his amusement at the brotherly tiff is cut short when suddenly, aivar hurls an axe straight at Sigurd. He's stunned, and angry, only keeping himself in check because the commotion of two of the others rushing to his friend's side and carting him off to a tent to be looked at more closely.
Everyone else is busy muttering amongst themselves, distracted and unnoticing of the glare, accompanied by a show of his true face in Ivar's direction--eyes dangerously dark, like a warning sign, with too dark and prominent veins raised around the edges of his eyes. It's barely a flash, quick enough the younger Viking would likely question if he saw what he thought he had at all. And then Kol is on the heels of the others, stopping just outside the edge of the tent before he speaks.
"I don't have time to explain, but I can help." He just needs an invitation first. Bloody magic rules.
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He'd really never thought Ivar would kill him, not like that.
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Whatever Kol had done hadn't stopped Sigurd from dying and the brothers are less than happy when his breath stops. It's not as if they could understand the truth of what is happening.
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The others may not, but Kol hears it when his friend takes his first breath after death and he cants his head slightly to the side, "Sigurd?" he calls to him, curious if he's conscious again just yet.
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"Kol?" the source and familiarity of the voice is pinned down.
It seems apparent to family that some witchcraft must have been at play.
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There's...a lot to explain, but first he wants to see how Sigurd feels. Kol's guess? Ravenous.
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“Hungry,” the truth spills from his lips before he has time to think but after he says it he knows it to be true. “Kol... what’s going on?” He asks and he can see the confused expressions of his brothers and he needs and wants an explanation though the hunger is becoming more adamant of his attention.
old norse for vampire~
The important part of this, however, is that he saved him, and Kol is hoping that goes over well enough to not make murdering a room full of people necessary. "That hunger is only going to get worse and you've got a day to decide... if you don't complete the transition within the time limit, you die for real."
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"So if I don't want to die?" Sigurd queries, ignoring his brothers, who both look unsettled by the turn of events.
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For a Viking, drinking human blood isn't the weirdest thing ever...
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Sigurd is not about to argue not caring if it might end up risky or not.
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He nods at Ubbe's agreement to be the volunteer, urging him closer, but stopping him before he's too close. Kol comes to stand behind Sigurd, his voice low and quiet. "You hear it, don't you? Every heartbeat in the room. Focus on Ubbe's...and only his..."
Once that little exercise is over, he beckons Sigurd's brother over and takes his wrist. It's a little less risky for a new vampire than going straight for the jugular. His eyes and the veins around them darken and his fangs reveal before he bites into the Viking's wrist, drawing blood. It will be more than enough to draw Sigurd's new nature to the surface. The scent of blood is too strong to ignore.
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The hunger demands to be satiated and the scent of fresh blood right there makes it impossible to ignore as he near instantly moves forward and all thoughts of worry over Ubbe's safety are blurred into the background.
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When it starts to slow e doesn't pull away right away but soon enough he wrenches himself away reluctantly.
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“Yes,” he says, though he could have indulged more without any complaint.
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"But I'll get a friend of mine to make you one of these," he holds the ring up and slips it back on as he walks back over, holding his hand up. The burns are already healing, and by the time he's standing in front of his friend again, there's not a scratch, nor any sign he'd been hurt at all.
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"You really have gotten me into something now haven't you," he murmurs.
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