Bjorn and Ivar did not always get along -- the understatement of the century, or millennia. But sometimes they did click. Despite their difference, perhaps more than their other brothers there was a primal drive that left them searching to conquer and to prove themselves. In many ways, Bjorn understood Ivar better than any other of his brothers. Just as much, he didn't begin to fathom the youngest Ragnarsson. But it came down to the fact he was happy to go on a trip with Ivar.
As indicated, he showed up in a fancy car, outfitted for Ivar's easy comfort as most of the vehicles that Ragnarsson's owned.
"I'm here," he sent as a text, ever no help in assisting Ivar.
Ivar had been pleased that Bjorn had decided to include him on this trek halfway around the world. His relationship with his oldest brother wasn't perfect, but they understood each other very well.
Ivar came wheeling out of his house. He had packed simple for this trip, figuring it was better to be pragmatic rather than to plan for every single scenario they could possibly encounter. He threw the bag into the backseat, went around to the other side, and slid into the front passenger seat. He folded and pulled up his wheelchair after him. "So where are we going again?" He asked.
"Indonesia," Bjorn answered and there's a shit eating grin on his face as he throws the car into drive once Ivar is inside and ready to go. He'll avoid as much traffic as he can so he can speed all the way to the small airport where several private jets are located.
"Like I keep track of every place you end up jet-setting to?" Ivar retorted. He was still excited just to be off on an adventure with his brother, going somewhere fun and full of life. He so rarely got to do this, for Aslaug kept a close watch on Ivar when it came to leaving the country. She seemed to be convinced anytime he left that he would either be kidnapped and held for ransom or sold into slavery somehow.
"Nope. She would have had a cow. I told her I was going to take a road trip for a bit." She hadn't been happy with that either, but since she thought it was still in the country, Aslaug had acquiesced. She hopefully wouldn't find out what he'd done until he got back. Or maybe not at all. That would be ideal.
"And she didn't have a cow about that?" Bjorn laughed and he was sure Aslaug would have his head on a spike if she found out he took Ivar out of the country but he also really didn't giv e a shit.
"She assumes I wouldn't dare do anything too terrible on my own." Maybe that would've been true if he didn't have four older brothers who were terrible enablers and seemed determined to drag their little brother to Hell with them.
"Sometimes I wonder if she knows you at all," Bjorn smirks as he glances over at Ivar and makes a turn on the exit that would take them to the airport that has the private plane.
"She sees only what she wants to." Ivar would forever be her helpless youngest son in Aslaug's eyes no matter what he did or how old he got. It was comforting in some ways, but in a lot more, it had become stifling. Aslaug only saw what he couldn't do, not what he could accomplish under his own merit.
They can agree on that there. Aslaug and Lagertha were very different, but driving their respective sons crazy was one talent they seemed to have in common. Ivar lapses into a comfortable silence until they reach the airport. They've got several small jets in the family name, so it's just a matter of picking which one they want.
Once they get on board, Ivar's is seated comfortably, and starts rooting around for both snacks and drinks. Might as well start on getting good and plastered before they even get there.
Before the plane has even lifted off, Bjorn has settled with a large alcoholic beverage and spread out over one of the luxurious couch style seats that the private jet has to offer. The flight attendants are beautiful women, of course, because this is Bjorn we’re talking about and he’s nothing if not his fathers son.
“Are you going to get some tail while we’re there too or are you just along for the field trip?”
With Hvitserk or Ubbe he wouldn’t even need to ask.
Ivar glares at his brother with his icy blue eyes, a nerve definitely hit. "That's my own business," he snaps out.
The subject of finding a woman or man to fill his bed always is a sore one for Ivar. He's always felt his brothers have an easy time of it, while he's looked at like an object of pity by people. This isn't necessarily true, but Ivar wouldn't be Ivar without a huge chip on his shoulder.
Bjorn looks completely unbothered by Ivar's glare. He's used to hitting Ivar's buttons and perhaps sometimes he did it on purpose (but he did that to everyone, ivar's not special).
"Come on, brother, what fun is it if we don't talk about it?"
"Oh sure, it's fun for you. All you have to do is be in a room with a woman for three minutes who doesn't immediately run out and then stare at them intently for them to be willing to go to bed with you." Ivar says, his tone completely sour.
"Women would be more apt to jump in bed with you if you would stop glaring for more than a second at a time," Bjorn retorts, not bothered by Ivar's tone.
"Oh, shut up. You think it's just as easy for everyone to find women as it is for you!" Ivar picks up a soda can and lobs it at Bjorn's head. This is going to turn into a long flight if they end up getting into an argument.
"I do not feel sorry for myself," Ivar said hotly, but he couldn't deny it too much. Part of Ivar's problem was just that, wallowing in self-pity instead of seeing those around him who were interested in him. Another was that he was frankly kind of shy when it came to anyone he was attracted to. There was always the idea sticking in his head that no one could ever love him for himself, just feel a sense of pity towards him.
"Are you sure about that?" Bjorn retorts and rolls his eyes as he takes another drink from the alcoholic beverage he's retrieved and all. He's not worried about Ivar actually managing to hurt him. And if he did? Well, all Ragnarsson planes came with an on board doctor -- because...have you met this family?
"Things would be easier if you'd just be honest too."
"Why be honest?" He shrugs. "People only use your words against you when you tell the truth." That's how he saw it anyway, which is why Ivar rarely told the truth. Too often, he'd end up lying or speaking in double-talk so that no one knew precisely what to make of what he was saying.
"And that's such a surprise? I was born cynical." Really, he was, and he's only gotten worse as the years have gone on. At least now it seems he's forgotten about wanting to fight with Bjorn for the moment.
"You chose to be cynical," Bjorn argues. He doesn't believe that anyone can be born so cynical. Ivar had constantly chosen to make his own life harder in his opinion.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
For Ivar
Bjorn and Ivar did not always get along -- the understatement of the century, or millennia. But sometimes they did click. Despite their difference, perhaps more than their other brothers there was a primal drive that left them searching to conquer and to prove themselves. In many ways, Bjorn understood Ivar better than any other of his brothers. Just as much, he didn't begin to fathom the youngest Ragnarsson. But it came down to the fact he was happy to go on a trip with Ivar.
As indicated, he showed up in a fancy car, outfitted for Ivar's easy comfort as most of the vehicles that Ragnarsson's owned.
"I'm here," he sent as a text, ever no help in assisting Ivar.
no subject
Ivar came wheeling out of his house. He had packed simple for this trip, figuring it was better to be pragmatic rather than to plan for every single scenario they could possibly encounter. He threw the bag into the backseat, went around to the other side, and slid into the front passenger seat. He folded and pulled up his wheelchair after him. "So where are we going again?" He asked.
no subject
"How'd you already forget?"
no subject
no subject
"So did you tell your mom where you were going?" Bjorn asks as he's speeding and weaving in and out of traffic recklessly.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Once they get on board, Ivar's is seated comfortably, and starts rooting around for both snacks and drinks. Might as well start on getting good and plastered before they even get there.
no subject
“Are you going to get some tail while we’re there too or are you just along for the field trip?”
With Hvitserk or Ubbe he wouldn’t even need to ask.
no subject
The subject of finding a woman or man to fill his bed always is a sore one for Ivar. He's always felt his brothers have an easy time of it, while he's looked at like an object of pity by people. This isn't necessarily true, but Ivar wouldn't be Ivar without a huge chip on his shoulder.
no subject
"Come on, brother, what fun is it if we don't talk about it?"
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
"Things would be easier if you'd just be honest too."
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)