ataraxion | [voice]

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[voice]

[Skulduggery could make a post about how it's Not Alright to throw people out of the airlock because of things they may have done back home, or about how it's Definitely Not Alright to just want to throw troublemakers out of the airlock because they've caused, well, trouble, or even about how little attention people have been paying to things like the screaming during jumps, or the missing smiley face, or... any... of that interesting stuff.

He could so definitely do that. But instead, he decides to go a more mild-mannered route.]

So. Does anybody have interesting stories from home they'd like to share? Preferably, ones that don't include throwing people out of airlocks or mass graves or, what was it - firing squads, if you please. Let's try for something a bit more upbeat than that.

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Oh, come now. Not everyone is discussing such things, one man's post merely got the rest of us thinking for a time.

[There's a pause and a light humming]

Have you ever heard the story of Thrym?

Why are you always so interested in other people?

Of course not everyone is. I'm discussing perfectly irrelevant topics, for example. And no, I don't believe I have.

Because there's only so much interest I can put in myself, and I think I generally exceed that quota as it stands.

Ah, Thrym's story is one of my favorites! 'Tis a tale past down amidst the bards of my home.

[And he flings himself into the story with the gusto of a master orator who is also very fond of the sound of his own voice]

One day I was wandering outside the gates of the Golden City of Asgard when I was hailed by the Frost Giant, Thrym. He told me the he'd used arcane arts to steal away Mjolnir, the mighty war hammer of my brother Thor, while Thor slept a deep sleep. If we ever wished the mystic hammer returned to us then we had to deliver Freya, fairest of the fair, and Queen of Asgard, to his palace so he could take her hand in marriage.

"Well!" I thought to myself, "This will not do!"

I hied me back to the Golden City to deliver the news and heard my brother's bellows of rage even from the gates. So angered was he by the loss of his weapon that he'd torn his room apart. I told him what unfortunate fate had befallen Mjolnir and together we brought the unhappy story before Freya. She refused to turn over her beauty to Thrym, and understandably so! "Never!" she said "Though all of Asgard may fall!"

I thought on the matter and decided that if Thrym wanted a bride he would have one, and who would be lovelier than my brother? Oh, Thor was not so delighted with the plan but we still dressed him in the most perfect gown, with jewels across his broad chest, and Freya's own veil atop his head.

He and I made the journey to Thrym's palace together, for I was to play the part of Thor's loyal handmaiden. I cast a charm upon myself so that the Giants would perceive me as a maiden fair. If only my power had allowed me to charm poor Thor as well...

[A thoughtful pause]

Thrym was there to receive us when we arrived in Jotunheim and I saw him stealing glances at Thor as we made our way to his palace.

"Freya's beauty is legendary!" he whispered to me, "but her shoulders are so broad!"

I assured him that in Asgard that was considered beautiful and we continued onward in silence.

At the reception there was a feast. And, oh, you should have seen it! 'Twas an entire table full of more food than any mortal could begin to imagine and all of the Giants of Thrym's hall were gathered about it. Thrym's attention was not on the feast, of course, but on his bride to be.

One thing about my brother is his appetite is nigh insatiable. He is, perhaps, second only to Volstagg in appetite. He ate, first, all of the sweets set aside for the Giantesses, then eight salmon washed down with numerous flagons of mead and rounded off his repast by consuming an entire roast steer. Thrym was alarmed. I told him that lovely Freya had been so eager to see him that, in her excitement, she had not eaten since leaving Asgard.

Thrym leaned in to give his bride a single kiss and caught a glimpse of Thor's murderous glare beneath the veil. I assured him that 'twas not a glare he saw, but only the redness of exhaustion and reminded him that the kiss should come after the wedding.

He agreed with me and shouted for the wedding to take place immediately and ordered for Mjolnir to be brought forth to make the trade with Asgard. The second Mjolnir was in his sight, Thor seized it and hurled it about with his tremendous strength bringing thunder and death to all of the Giants in Thrym's hall. It was, perhaps, not the most elegant execution but in the end Asgard was able to keep its hammer, its champion and its queen.

I have one about a tortoise.

I had an ant farm when I was little. Now they're interesting. But not nearly as interesting as my mum's language when they escaped.

[ ...that makes sense. ] Maybe you should try making friends instead of just asking for stories. In my experience, people don't really enjoy telling strangers about their lives.

I was never really that good at storytelling.

I was killed by a Kraken, once.

[That totally works, right?]

I was once the princess of a hell dimension. [ there's a beat. she sounds so wistful, nostalgic. then her tone shifts and she might as well be rolling her eyes. ] It wasn't exactly hellish until my minions stopped listening to me.

I can only imagine how often you tell this story at family reunions.

This is how I make friends.

I love hearing stories about tortoises.

I can only imagine that they escaped more often than you could have anticipated when you first bought the farm. ...So to speak.

Nonsense. Everyone is good at storytelling. All you do is talk about one memory or thought until it sounds like it's come to a conclusion, and to make yourself look flattering while doing so.

Excellent story. I feel as though I've been thoroughly entranced by the depth and conflict held within.

How did you get killed by a Kraken?

I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for you.

[he sounds completely sincere.]

The story always manages to draw a laugh from the Aesir. Many enjoy it.

...Thor less so.

[He grins a bit at that.]

Oh no, I built the farm. Which may explain why they escaped in the first place.

Do you offer stories in return?

If they ask, I suppose. Most people are more than happy to talk about themselves.

...they do tend to be pretty egotistical, don't they?

But you do that and be really boring. [Topher, you could never be boring. Even if your story sucked, people would watch your hands and worry about being slapped accidentally with all those BIZARRE HAND MOTIONS.]

Carrying all the souvenirs out of that lair without help definitely was. [ nevermind the fact that she was trying to escape at the time and thought taking everything that was shiny would be a good idea. ] What's the point of being a ruler if no one's going to help you?

[ she's probably not serious about this ... it was a concern at the time, but in hindsight, it makes for "decent" conversation. ]

[Oh, sarcasm. Wonderful.]

By makin' the Devil of the Sea mad a me. Made a deal I didn't feel like honorin'.

It's called 'What the Tortoise Said to Achilles'. It was written by Lewis Carroll.

[She relates the story well; her voice is a little flat, but not unpleasant. (and to save comment space I linked to another site, because whoa Carroll was verbose.)]

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