summerdude | Jack Puts Me Through My Paces [open post]

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Jack Puts Me Through My Paces [open post]

"Señor, you really should practice more," Jack says, as Magnus rearranges his mental notes and sighs.

(Anyone else might think Magnus is just lying back on a bench on the grounds, staring at the sky, lost in thought. And technically, he is. But he's working hard!!! He's trying to sort out everyone he's encountered so far!!!)

"You're right," Magnus groans. Being in a weird Mansion with no way out, no established Battle Practice, and no pressing quests to go on is not an excuse to let his limited fighting skills fall by the wayside. He hauls himself upright and shoves his (still largely blank) notebook into his backpack.

Twenty minutes later, he's secured a practice sword from some random closet or another in the Mansion. It's dull steel, not sentient, and heavy in his hands.

"Perfect," Jack decides, so Magnus tramps back out to the spacious lawn, one sword in each hand. Checking to make sure no one is directly in harm's way, he releases Jack and brings the dull training sword up, ready to parry whatever attack Jack decides to throw at him.

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"Yeahhhhh," Magnus says. "Look, dude, I kinda get the vibe that you don't really like him. And that's totally fine! Seems like you, um, have different approaches to the world and stuff. But it sounds like he got some bullshit quest from some god? With some really effed up stipulations. And then you mentioned purity of curiosity, and it made me wonder... like... you know." He shrugs. "So is that like, a whole thing? Where you're from?"

"It's-- listen, I'm not entirely sure I actually believe in God, which stands me in poor stead to evaluate his convictions. There is in general an expectation of chastity from unmarried people, but I don't know whether in practice very many people really are. I certainly don't consider it a virtue. But Sir Galahad will live and die by the church, so his priorities are different from mine."

Magnus decides to sit down on the rock they're perched on, bringing a knee up so he can prop his elbow up on it and rest his chin against his hand. Staring out over the lawn, he says, "I guess people when I'm from have a lot of opinions about premarital sex, too, but it hasn't really registered in my family, and when you spend a few years on the streets and then you die and go to the Viking afterlife, you have bigger concerns than, like. When people start to have sex." He quirks a grin. "My mom and my uncle both had affairs with gods. Mom never married. I think she loved Frey her whole life. We certainly went camping enough so she could feel close to him, before she died. My cousin... her mom is Athena. Totally different pantheon, so that's... wild. Though I think Annabeth was literally a brain child, so maybe my uncle didn't... I don't know. He got married later. Annabeth said that he didn't have a romance with her mom."

He shrugs. "But what about, uh, I guess postmarital chastity? If someone is married, or equivalently committed, does that make the sex pure?" He doesn't wait for Sagramore to respond -- he's on a musing sort of roll. "Some of the weirder opinions I've heard are, like, it's only good if it's for procreation." Another grin, this time directed more at Sagramore than the middle distance. "Which, obviously, to Helheim with that. But I really don't know about the relationship between, like, purity and chastity in my own time, much less any others. My aunt -- I mean, I guess, technically my aunt, Freya? My dad's sister. She's had affairs with like half the svartalfs in Nidavellir, and that's considered completely normal to everyone involved, but I bet if you told some of the televangelists that they'd have a total meltdown about it."

He wrinkles his nose, thinking about both the televangelists and the few scraps of information he'd gotten from Galahad. And also the fact that he's recently met a literal christian demon AND a literal christian angel. "No offense, but the more I learn about it, the more I think christianity is the weirdest religion."

Since Magnus has alighted, Sagramore settles down as well, carefully placing his sword beside him. A great deal of what Magnus is saying sounds like thinking aloud, and he doesn't feel entirely compelled to keep up.

At the end, though, he says, "I'm not sure whether it's the strangest -- I clearly don't have your breadth of knowledge -- but I don't particularly find it compelling. You have on the one hand a God who would hang Himself to spare us from our sins, which are determined by Him in the first place, and on the other hand you have Sir Galahad, who is entirely miserable, so being spared from sin carries no relief." He shrugs. "I wouldn't want his life."

"See, that just sounds like extra paperwork to me," Magnus says. "Much more reasonable to have a god that sets forth the sins and a different one to take them down again." Actually, he finds the concept of 'sin' dumb in general, but that's a different matter entirely. "I guess what I don't get is, like, love is good, right? So how can doing stuff that celebrates it be bad? Seems pretty pure and potent if you ask me."

He laughs. "You're speaking to someone who already agrees with you. I'd argue my church is the bedroom. But-- I don't know that that's a common opinion, in my time and place."

"Mine either," Magnus says. "But gods can be reached in incredibly weird places. A bedroom sounds super reasonable to me.^*"

*Magnus does not entirely get that people don't necessarily go to church to try and talk directly to god.

"I don't know whether that answers your question, but I wouldn't measure my world by Sir Galahad. He leads a sad life."

"Oh, sure," Magnus says. "I was more, like... trying to understand where he's coming from than anything, you know? So thank you."

"Did I actually help with that at all? -- Don't tell me, it just comes as a shock." He stretches. "You should really talk to him, in any case. The two of us aren't friends, I hardly understand his mental state."

"Yeah, but you're both from Camelot," Magnus says. Hearing what he's just said, he winces. "I do hear how that sounds. If someone was like, 'yo, Magnus, my dude, explain to me how all the other einherjar operate' I'd be like I don't freaking know, man, I guess we kill each other a bunch but that's literally it?" He shrugs a little, self-consciously. "In this metaphor, you both being from Camelot is like me and all the other einherjar killing each other a lot."

Sagramore laughs; he can't help it. He likes the way Magnus talks, all references he can't possibly understand, and yet Sagramore can catch his meaning well enough.

"More or less."

"Anyyyyyway," Magnus says. He still feels a little self-conscious about all of his assumptions, but he's grateful to Sagramore for the conversation. "What were we talking about? We both have excellent taste in partners whose intelligence puts us to shame?"

"Yes! A very diverting topic of conversation, but if you'd like to spar again we can do that too."

Edited 2023-10-28 12:51 (UTC)

"Your call, dude," Magnus says. "I like talking and fighting." Well, mostly he likes running away from fights, but he's trying to get better about that.

"Can you do both at once?"

"I'm a great multitasker," Magnus says. "Uncovering plots while bowling. Arguing while running away from danger. Flyting gods while terrified. So I could probably chat and spar at the same time, too."

Edited 2023-10-28 15:58 (UTC)

"Good, you can explain flyting while we go another round." He pushes off the boulder and drops lightly to the ground before reaching up for his sword.

Magnus follows, overshooting the jump a little bit so he ends up further away than he intended, and stumbles. He catches himself, though, and turns to face Sagramore. "I toootally meant to do that," he lies, and grins, lifting his blade. "Flyting is another kind of battle. You're trying to cut your opponents down with words."

"Will the words truly cut?" He shifts into his own stance.

"If they're effective, they make you literally shrink," Magnus says, taking a deep breath and sizing Sagramore up. Modestly, he adds, "We were able to trap Loki in a walnut shell after our flyting."

Edited 2023-10-28 23:20 (UTC)

"That's remarkable. But you are quite remarkable, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

"My friends helped," Magnus says, flushing a little at the compliment.

Sagramore laughs. "This place is replete with people who don't want to take credit for their own graces. Friends or no, you are remarkable. And so is your sword."

"Well then," Magnus, the bravest boy in the world^*, says. "Thank you!"

*For taking a compliment. To be clear.

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sagramore - 2023-10-28 23:59 (UTC) - Expand

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