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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Blackrat" data-source="post: 4609572" data-attributes="member: 27761">Heathrow Airport, London. Saturday morning."Sir, I have to ask you to leave that axe for us to be put in the cargohold.""WHAT! Nø! Ieg kan nej hunt diir wythøut yt!"*Blinks heavily* "Sir, there are no deer in the plane.""Then what ys Ieg ieting?"*Thinks for a moment, trying to figure out what the hulking blonde said*"We serve a meal during the flight, sir. There is nothing to worry about.""Øh. That ys gøød." *Carefully hands the axe to the man next to him. Eyeing him suspiciously.*"Ieg wyll hav røasted bøar og diir og mjöd. Løts mjöd og...""Yes sir, we received the list from the TV Company already. Unfortunatily we couldn't accomodate all your wishes but we..."There's a loud bang as the hulking brute slams his fist (about the size of a child's head) to the table. The security guards, who by now encirle him, all move their hands to their guns. The huge man eyes the receptionist angrily."YÜ HAV ISCREM!?"The receptionist, a veritable paragon of british calmness doesn't seem to be in anyway affected by this outburst"Yes sir, we did get the icecream requested. Now if you'd please move along..."Bus Station, Somewhere in Arizona. Sunday."Yes, this bus goes to Salton City, but I'll have to ask you to put the axe in the storage compartment. The other passengers are getting nervous."The man in furs seems to perspire heavily and eyes the driver suspiciously, but by now he has gotten used to this kind of request."Jaa that ys gøød."He hands the axe to the driver and goes to take a seat. He needs to cramp his legs awkwardly to fit in the small area and his head still bangs on the luggage shelves. A young student girl sits next to him, apparently smitten by his impressive looks."Why ys yt sø høt yn hir?" He asks aloud, wiping the sweat off his brow."You should take that fur coat off." The girl comments, getting a confused looks from the brute. Finally the man blushes."Nej, Ieg kan inte. That wøuld bi shim... shamm.. shamy..." He seems to give up the thought and instead digs two large spoons and a can of icecream from his bag. "Want iscrem?" He asks the girl, handing her the other spoon.Somewhere in Arizona. Sometime Later.The other passengers watch in amazement as the huge man effortlessly lifts the bus from the ditch and places it back on the road. He is blushed and looks almost like a little puppy when he walks to the driver. Just moments earlier an inexplicable "blizzard" had flash-frozen the road, as well as the breaks, and on that matter everything else in the bus..."But myn iscrem ys meltyng." The man says, lifting his bag for the driver to see."Yes, you said so already. You just have to eat faster, you can't do things like that.""But Ieg ys høt...""You've told that already too. Now, because you helped the bus back on road, I'm going to let you back in, but no more stuff like that."But..." He starts as the student girl places her hand on the brute's shoulder. Well she would if she'd reach it easily, now she has to content on placing it on the forearm. "Come on, it's only a few hours anymore. Surely you can take it until then."Salton City. Sunday Evening.It seems that, excluding the student, everyone else in the bus is relieved to see the huge loud man leave. He stands in the station, sweating and looking miserable. Looking at the directions he was handed, he sets towards the Inn. What might seem strange to people crossing the path later is the lingering coldness that trails from the station to the outskirts.Sunday Night.A knock rouses The Viking and he goes to open the door."Hey, the occupants in the adjacent rooms are complaining about the cold.""But...""Yes, you told you don't like the heat, but you need to stop doing that""But...""If you don't I'll have to ask you to leave, and I don't care about that TV Company anymore."The brute seems to pout, but finally nods. Then a smile lights his face."Kan Ieg hav iscrem?""Okay, I'll bring you icecream. What flavor?""Øh, ani ys gøød."Monday, 11:15 AM.The Viking marches to the bar in his full attire, and sits down. Filled with bikers the giant of a man almost fits in perfectly, were it not for his pretty-boy face. The brute gets quite a looks around the bar."Tavern Kiiper! Ieg wyll hav mjöd."[sblock=OOC]If anyone wants to use that part of "Occupants in adjacent rooms coplaining about the cold", feel free to do so. Afterall, we did all stay at the same motel.[/sblock]</blockquote>

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