Thorfinn Thorsson }{ Karlsefni (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
seekingvinland) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2016-07-13 07:44 pm
seekingvinland) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2016-07-13 07:44 pm
Arrival: A new land
WHO: Thorfinn Thorsson
WHERE: The Fountain
WHEN: July 13th
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: Closed
It's another nightmare.
It was the first thought that crossed his mind when he felt the water around him and his eyes flew open. He needed air… Dream or not, Thorfinn had little choice but to push up towards the light in the distance. Swimming was always one of his strong points. Kicking as hard as he could for the surface as his lungs started to burn desperately needing air. When Thorfinn came bursting through the water his scarred hands grabbed onto the edge of the fountain. Coughing heavily as he heaved himself over the edge onto the ground.
This was the strangest dream he had ever had… Well, kind of.
It took a few moments of coughing to get the water out of his lungs before he could breath. Pushing himself onto his hands and knees and sitting back his long blonde hair plastering to his face. He his eyes widened as he looked around him. Something akin to fear started to fill his senses… This wasn't the bodies of the dead, this wasn't his father or Askeladd. This wasn't a dream.
From the way the air felt on his wet skin, to the strange ground beneath his hands biting into his palms. It all screamed reality. It was no dream.
"Móðir! Einar! Ylfa!"
He called out the names of those who had been in the house when he had slipped to sleep. His instincts seemed to finally catch up with him as he pushed himself to his feet. He was in strange shoes he had never seen before. Clothes like those almost from a dream. A dream that he had long forgotten. One of strange islands in the sky connected by small bifrosts. He stood there examining the strange light gray clothing on him. Confused and soaked to the bone.
"Hvað er þetta? Hvar er ég? Odin, gefa mér merki."
WHERE: The Fountain
WHEN: July 13th
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: Closed
It's another nightmare.
It was the first thought that crossed his mind when he felt the water around him and his eyes flew open. He needed air… Dream or not, Thorfinn had little choice but to push up towards the light in the distance. Swimming was always one of his strong points. Kicking as hard as he could for the surface as his lungs started to burn desperately needing air. When Thorfinn came bursting through the water his scarred hands grabbed onto the edge of the fountain. Coughing heavily as he heaved himself over the edge onto the ground.
This was the strangest dream he had ever had… Well, kind of.
It took a few moments of coughing to get the water out of his lungs before he could breath. Pushing himself onto his hands and knees and sitting back his long blonde hair plastering to his face. He his eyes widened as he looked around him. Something akin to fear started to fill his senses… This wasn't the bodies of the dead, this wasn't his father or Askeladd. This wasn't a dream.
From the way the air felt on his wet skin, to the strange ground beneath his hands biting into his palms. It all screamed reality. It was no dream.
"Móðir! Einar! Ylfa!"
He called out the names of those who had been in the house when he had slipped to sleep. His instincts seemed to finally catch up with him as he pushed himself to his feet. He was in strange shoes he had never seen before. Clothes like those almost from a dream. A dream that he had long forgotten. One of strange islands in the sky connected by small bifrosts. He stood there examining the strange light gray clothing on him. Confused and soaked to the bone.
"Hvað er þetta? Hvar er ég? Odin, gefa mér merki."
no subject
He put both hands into his hair leaning on one of the tables looking at the door a moment. He knew he had to stay calm, nothing good ever came from letting his emotions run rampant. Taking a deep breath he looked at the table.
"Mercia?" He asked looking back up, removing his hands from his hair. Before here. he understood, he nodded making a bit of a face, America sounded familiar like something from a far away dream, she didn't sound like she was from Mercia. He spent long enough there to know that accent.
How did Leif do this...? How did Leif travel and meet so many and do it so cheerfully without these kinds of problems?
Slowly his eyes widened more, he was being stupid. EVERYONE knew Leif the lucky! He felt hope growing, but hope rarely did him good.
"Iceland." He repeated the word. Even if he had already said that was where he was from, it was important he had finally gotten home to his family. "Leif Eriksson." He spoke Leif's name, everyone knew Leif back home, or of him. He looked hopeful finally. Hopeful that the woman knew the man that was practically family to him.
no subject
"No," Veronica replies with a slight shake of her head, thinking she must have simply done a poor job of ennunciating. "America." She points to herself as she says it, and then motions to Thorfinn. "Iceland."
Her attention snags despite herself, however, because Mercia isn't a nonsense word, Mercia is a place -- Or had been, back in the Middle Ages. And as she looks Thorfinn over now, an impossible comprehension begins to dawn.
They're from all different times and places, aren't they? Or at least they think they are.
"It's further West," she weakly says, her mind trying to rebel against the idea that whatever this place is, it's actually capable of tossing in a genuine viking.
no subject
A vast land to the western sea.
It couldn't be though, his mind couldn't accept that.
"Ég hef aldrei heyrt um Ameríku. Ég vel ferðast. Aldrei hef ég heyrt svona nafn." his words came out heavy, but slower. He knew he wouldn't be understood he had dealt with those that spoke English before, but he still had to try.