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Snippet #2762896

located in Geiranger, Norway, a part of Unworthy of Valhalla, one of the many universes on RPG.

Geiranger, Norway

Geiranger, Norway

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lofn Byström Character Portrait: Rolf Nordskov Character Portrait: Livia Landon Character Portrait: Lucia Hall Character Portrait: Felix Henning Character Portrait: Tove Blakely
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L I V I A x L A N D O N

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r o l e x // x veiði-maðr
h e x x // x #302b54
o u t f i t x // x x

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When Livia woke that morning, she lay staring at the ceiling for a minute as she recollected her bearings. As much as she travelled, it still felt weird to wake up to a different room every now and then. At least this was much better than the American motels she normally stayed in. Footsteps sounded downstairs, no doubt the family that owned the bed and breakfast going about their day. There hadn't been any other guests when she moved in yesterday, she reflected, so less people to keep off her back.

Crap, it's the funeral today. And the room was so cosy too, she hated to leave it. But duty called, and with a low groan she rolled over, getting out of bed.

Twenty minutes later, Livia sat nursing a cup of coffee at the dining table, listening to the chaos that was the Lindström family in the morning. People would rush into the dining room, half-dressed and with uncombed hair, grab a piece of toast, and tear out again, only to leave their breakfast on top of a cupboard and forget about it while they went hunting for bags or shoes. This cycle would repeat itself until a woman strode in and chased everyone save for Livia out of the dining room, flapping her hands at them.

"Sorry about my family," she smiled at Livia. She searched her memory - this one would probably be Marie, the owner of the bed and breakfast. "More coffee?" Judging by her amused smile, Livia wasn't sure that she was really sorry, but it didn't really matter.

"Yes, please. And it's no concern, it's refreshing to see such a large family living together. I haven't been in such a lively house in years, ever since my sister moved out."

"Isn't that just how it is? I suppose I'll miss it when the children finally grow up and move out." Marie reached over, refilling Livia's coffee. Before she could respond, another girl, the youngest Livia had seen so far, came into the dining room, ducking Marie's outstretched arm to grab a roll and some cheese from the table. "American? You're completely out of season," she informed Livia, giggling as Marie started around the table, the coffee pot held out like a weapon. "All right, I'm going!" And she was gone, out of the kitchen again.

"Forgive my niece." Marie definitely wasn't apologetic now, her affection for the girl clear as she watched her scramble out of the room, almost tripping over herself before ducking into another room, out of Livia's line of sight. "She's very straightforward, kids her age, you know." Marie scrutinised Livia's outfit, then changed the subject. "What are your plans for the day?"

Livia tried to keep her voice casual. "I'm just visiting some family friends. Checking out the area." Marie nodded, got to her feet. "Family friends in little Geiranger, that's lovely. I'll leave you to it then. Just pop your head into my sister's cafe next door and holler if you need anything." She stood, gliding out of the dining room. Somewhere in the house a door slammed, then all was quiet.

Livia finished her breakfast as quickly as she could, then double checked her equipment - she wasn't expecting anything, but in foreign land one could never be too certain, and the weight of the collapsible crossbow tucked right into the very bottom of her purse was reassuring. Pulling her coat on, she left the house, headed for the funeral home.

By the time she got there, the funeral was already filled with family and friends of the deceased. She stood quietly by the back of the room, just observing. She spotted the wife and son, standing by the front, and waited until the end of the service when people began moving out of the room to approach them.

"Rolf and Eva, I presume? Hello. I'm Livia Landon - Anton was a friend of my father's. My condolences on his passing." She shook their hands in turn. "I just landed in Norway yesterday, my father sent me on his behalf. He and Anton were in the... hunting business together, you know, and on account of their friendship my father is anxious I should be involved in the search for the one responsible." She didn't like talking in euphemisms, but she had to be mindful of people who weren't aware of the entire situation listening in. "I am entirely at your disposal until this matter is settled. Again, I'm so sorry that we should meet under these circumstances."





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L U C I A x D A G N Y x H A L L

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r o l e x // x völva
h e x x // x #a2627a
o u t f i t x // x x

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"Ceecee. You're drooling into your work. Ceecee!" A figure loomed over Lucia, hands reaching for her face. She sat up with a small scream, drawing back instantly.

"Burning the midnight oil again?" It was only Lise, her eyebrows raised in disapproval, reaching forward to close the laptop as Lucia moved back from the desk. Another hand reached over her shoulder to tug a sheet of paper away from where it had been sticking to her face. "Hoping to absorb her lecture notes by osmosis, more like," said Mats from somewhere over her head. "You're young and energetic, squirt, but you need to sleep on time." He ruffled her hair and returned the paper to Lucia's desk, turning away. "Lise, if you don't hurry up we're leaving without you."

"You're..." Lucia's mouth was dry, and her voice caught. She scrubbed at her cheek with the back of her hand, tried again. "You're all going out together?" The accusation was clear in her scowl - without me? While Lise explained, she combed her fingers through her hair, trying to tame the mess. Copper strands floated to the floor, tugged free, and she snatched her hands back immediately. Anja would complain about the amount of hair that Lucia shed for her to sweep up, as if coming from a family where thick red hair was abundant didn't make that a common sight.

"I'm walking the boys to work, then going down to the pier with my friends. Don't get into any trouble while we're gone," was Lise's lofty reply as she breezed out of the room. "And watch where you go, there's a hunter's funeral going on today." The hardness in Lise's voice was unmistakable, but Lucia had no chance to ask further questions, as her cousins were already bounding downstairs.

Lucia got out of the chair she'd fallen asleep in, her spine creaking terribly, and stood in the centre of her room, turning in a circle as she tried to recollect her schedule. Having memorised her notes last night meant that she could take it easy today, maybe study in her mother's cafe before class in the late afternoon. It would be a good day, a relaxed day, and maybe she could brew up a feel-good potion just to spit in the face of the dead hunter.

After getting dressed, she grabbed a stack of notebooks and her laptop and headed downstairs, but a strange voice coming from the kitchen stopped her dead on the stairs. "...ever since my sister moved out." No doubt one of Marie's bed and breakfast guests, but at this time of year? And American no less, judging by her accent. She crept down the stairs, catching sight of the stranger. The dark-haired woman looked friendly enough, like someone that Lucia would love to get to know, except that Marie already seemed at the end of her tether and questioning her guest in front of her would probably not earn Lucia any brownie points. Breakfast was probably a greater priority than the guest at this point. She darted downstairs and into the kitchen, reaching for the bread.

Barely escaping Marie's reach, Lucia darted in her mother's cafe next door, settling at a table while Helena started the coffee machine and slid pastries into the display case. There seemed to be changes everywhere today. A hunter's funeral taking place? An American sitting in their kitchen, completely out of season? It wasn't cause to be frightened, but it was still weird to consider. As she chewed on her stolen breakfast, she opened her laptop again, letting the system boot up.

"Jenta mi," Helena called over the counter. She beckoned Lucia over, waving a piece of paper at her. "Are you busy, can you run down to the shop to get me some things? I'll look after your things, have some tea waiting for you when you get back."

"O-kay," Lucia groaned, shutting the laptop again. "Give that here." She took the list from Helena, stuffing it into the front pocket of her jeans, then skipped out the door.

It was a short enough distance, and the weather was pretty good, so she opted to walk to the shop. The interior was dimly lit, and as always Lucia peered through the door to check if it was open. Spotting Tove sitting inside, she knocked smartly on the door, and pushed through after getting the dark-haired girl's attention. "He-ey," she sang once she was inside. "All cooped up as usual, my beautiful blackbird? It's a lovely day outsi - ooh, what are you reading?" She moved to look over Tove's shoulder at the book, her curiosity piqued.





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F E L I X x H E N N I N G

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r o l e x // x völva
h e x x // x #362819
o u t f i t x // x x

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The day dawned bright and early to find Felix hunched in front of his computer, having been up for hours researching new plants. With the weather, he hoped to expand his garden - maybe flowers to brighten it up, or strawberries that he could use for recipes...

He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice the sun had risen until the light shone through his window at just the right angle to hit his eyes. Scrunching his face up, he pushed his chair back and checked the clock. Damn, I was up the whole night again. He rubbed his eyes, then got up and got ready to start the day.

For Felix, this began with yet another attempt to perfect a recipe for cinnamon waffles. In half an hour, he measured, whisked, and mixed, then all activity abruptly came to a halt as he started his waffle maker and hovered over it, waiting for the mix to cook. When he finally popped it open, the kitchen filled with the bright and sweet smell of vanilla and cinnamon, and Felix took the opportunity to snap a few photos for his blog's progress.

They weren't by any means the best waffles he'd ever made, but he grudgingly admitted that these were much better than his previous attempt. Sitting in his kitchen staring out the window at the space around his house, Felix noted that even for the outskirts of Geiranger it was oddly quiet. Too quiet. Probably a big event was going on in the village - he hoped nothing serious? Something that was none of his business, at any rate. He was well aware of his status as the self-imposed outcast of Geiranger, and he intended to keep it that way.

After breakfast was a careful cleaning of the kitchen, wiping down the various countertops and making sure everything was washed and put away. Felix supposed that he should have tried to be more economical with his space, but living alone had earned him the tendency to sprawl his work out over various surfaces, which of course made cleaning harder. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he remembered how his grandmother used to berate him for dirtying her pretty kitchen. He still missed her sometimes.

Shaking that thought out of his mind, Felix finished the cleanup, and went out to his garden to check on the plants. To his dismay, something had chewed through his vegetables, leaving gigantic holes in the leaves. Sighing, he searched through the pots until he found the culprits - a handful of slugs, hidden at the base of a spinach plant. Cursing under his breath, he was so preoccupied with trying to remove them that he barely noticed the girl in front of him until she extended a finger towards the plants. "What are those?"

Felix raised his head to look at her. She cut a pale figure, her outline shimmering, and though her face wasn't easy to place her hair definitely helped him along - Lofn. He remembered speaking to her a few times when he used his spirit magic to cross over into Vægher, and her presence was... less unwelcome than others'. "Spinach," he responded, pointing at the holes. "I was going to try making spinach flour, maybe cut some noodles from them, but the slugs got to them before I could."

He shifted his weight backwards, still squatting on the ground, and tilted his head at her. "What are you doing here, Lofn?"