#norse code

[chaotictasha]

Incorrect quotes #68

Loki: *Gently taps table*

Y/n: *Taps back*

Bruce: What are they doing?

Thor: Norse code.

Loki: *Aggressively taps table*

Y/n: *Slams hands down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK-

[viking-illustrator]

What do vikings use for long-distance communication? Norse Code!

[roadmoviemobilecinema]

‘Imitation Game’ Helmer Morten Tyldum Acquires Bobbie Peers’ Children’s Novel ‘William Wenton And The Luridium Thief’

 EXCLUSIVE: In a preemptive deal on the eve of the Frankfurt Book Fair, The Imitation Game director Morten Tyldum and his production company Norse Code have acquired screen rights to William Wenton and the Luridium Thief. That is a debut children’s novel by Bobbie Peers, the writer/director whose 2006 short film Sniffer won the Palme […]

Read full post: http://deadline.com/2015/10/morten-tyldum-…

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[plunder-and-pillage]

Repercussions \\ Journal Entry #7

Ebele had whisked Cecilia away far too fast, leaving me alone with Pop. I attempted to walk straight to my room, assuming that it was down the same corridor that the girls had just sprinted towards. But I didn't make it far.

Pop grabbed my arm, yanking me back until I faced him. He was red with anger, itching already to lay a hand on me in an attempts to correct my behavior. He was inches away from slapping me when Ebele emerged from the hallway again. She stopped in her tracks, realizing immediately what was about to happen. 

And oddly enough, she cleared her throat and sauntered across the room, passing us completely. Her silence had given Pop approval to do with me what he wanted. A chill ran up my spine. She was just like mum. Hell, she was worse because she wasn't my mother. She probably thought I deserved it. Maybe she'd even asked Pop to teach me a lesson before she let him into her pants. I had no idea, I knew nothing except that I was about to really get it. 

And it went just like it normally did at home. I knew what I'd done, there was no need to lecture me. He ordered me to remove my shirt, revealing my scar ridden back from years of abuse at his hand. I faced the bed, kneeling on the ground, back arched slightly for optimum impact. It was habit after years of being coached how to sit. I could hear him unbuckling his belt and I prepared myself for it. 

I closed my eyes and thought of Erik and Astrid, who were home. Safe. I thought about the fact that I'd definitely deserved this today. I acted like an asshole to test the waters. I felt the first sting of the leather against my back and flinched. This is how fucked I was. I told myself I deserved it. 

The crack of the belt echoed in my room with each flick of his wrist. I bit my lip to keep from groaning or making any kind of noise. I thought of Cecilia and hoped that if she heard that she'd never ask me about it. I could hear his breath grow ragged after I lost count. My back was hot and sticky. I braced myself for one more, one that never came. 

A sudden breeze from quick movement and a slam of the door signified his departure. I collapsed onto the floor, laying on my stomach and attempting to catch my breath. My back stung, and I knew that I couldn't do anything about it. Without Erik, I had no one to clean me up. So after a good half hour, I crawled into the bathroom and drew a bath, sliding into it like a wounded animal. 

*****

When I woke up, I was in freezing water tinted pink from blood. I'd passed out in the tub. Pain radiated in my bones. Daylight shone on the floor from the window in my bedroom. I closed my eyes and for the first time just wanted to ignore everything and lay here some more. But I shivered, my body cold. I stiffly reached for the faucet, aching for hot water. Before I could, there was a knock on my door. 

Ebele's voice carried through the closed wood. Breakfast. Prep. Parade. 

My prep team had no idea what they were about to deal with. I struggled out of the tub, freezing. I could barely move. Stripping down out of my wet clothing, I left them in a heap on the floor next to the bathtub, still filled with bloody water. I covered up with sweatpants and a matching hoodie and prayed to the gods that I didn't look like hell warmed over. 

[plunder-and-pillage]

Sabahtage \\ Journal Entry #6

I found out his name. 

Lamar Brooks. 

I should've known it was him. 

It was two days after I received the letter and I decided that I had to do something about it. This was my year, he didn't deserve it. I'd beaten him more times than he'd beaten me in one on one matches. Just because he's 18 he gets to go? Fuck no. I can't wait another year, this is it. And I had to get him out of the way.

So I found Lamar working overtime at the training center in order to prepare for the arena. It was simple, easy really. Not many kids trained once the volunteer had secured their spot, most looked at it as their only opportunity for a vacation. The 18 year olds stopped altogether, in hopes to find real jobs and their place in a District that they'd always call home. The younger kids just took a break, back to training they went after the Reaping. A rigorous year round schedule, this being their only down time. And the trainers, who worked 6 out of 7 days of the week, well they wanted their break, too. 

So Lamar trained alone, as did most of the volunteers did the week between their official notice and the Reaping. That gave me the perfect opportunity to strike. 

Now, back to the insulin. I know for a fact that the Career Academy doesn't keep records on their students like they should. Medical history, ailments, allergies, shit like that. They should, but they don't. So would they know whether or not Lamar was diabetic? Probably not. What's better is that your body naturally produces insulin, so by the time they figured out that he had too much in his system, he'd already be dead or a fucking vegetable... if they did at all. Even in a place like Four, not everything was so easy to come by. And Lamar didn't come from the richest of families. Could they afford an autopsy? Who knows. But if they could, it wouldn't matter because by that time, I'll be in the Capitol. 

So equipped with a needle full of insulin, far too much insulin for a normal person, much less an actual diabetic, I waited for Lamar. I was stealthy as fuck, Erik and I had trained ourselves well. He was the only one in the locker room that night... just him and I. The steam from the shower and the noise of the water splashing against the tile concealed me. I snuck up on that fuck, catching him off guard and cracking his skull against the wall. He slipped down into the water, blood starting to swirl the drain. 

He groaned, having no idea who his assailant was yet. I planned on making sure he never knew. I held him down, injecting him with the entire contents of the syringe as he struggled against my grasp. Once I plucked the needle from his neck, I backed up and released him. He was dazed, I think he'd broken his nose. He groaned again and before he could roll over, I was gone. 

I'd read up on it. I knew that a dosage like that would have some pretty dire consequences. The fast acting insulin had already started to give him the shakes before I left. I knew that within a few minutes he'd get sick and vomit. Soon after, a seizure would follow. I could only hope that it would be so soon that he'd still be in that shower when he slipped into a coma. It'd make sense, the way he fell into the wall and broke his face. There was zero evidence of foul play. 

On my way out, I could hear him making noises, noises only a man in extreme pain would make. I wiped the syringe clean and stashed it in his locker, along with a few other injection drugs for good measure. Probably overkill, but I needed him to be discredited. I needed it to look like he was dabbling in shit that he shouldn't have been. I left everything else the way he'd left it and booked it out towards the hallway. 

I was in the clear. I was gone. I'd done the deed and was this fucking close to getting away with it. But that's when I ran into Cecilia...

[plunder-and-pillage]

It's Official \\ Journal Entry #5

The day after my final evaluation, Erik and I waited patiently at home for word. We sat across the kitchen table, staring at each other, staring at the telephone that rest between us. 

"What do you think, bro?" he asked me.

"I don't. I know. It's my year." 

"But there are 18 year olds..."

"None as good as me," I interrupted him.

"Are you worried that someone's going to claim nepotism?" 

I scoffed. "Please Erik. You know as well as anyone that I hate that fucking prick. I don't want anything just because he's our old man. Everyone knows that. If I could change my last name, I would. In fact, I might when I'm 18. Or when I'm a victor. Both. Fuck, I don't know, it doesn't matter. No one is going to claim that. I'm sure I'm not the only Career who's child is up for volunteer candidacy anyways. One and Two have a few, they're bound to have had children of age." 

"You know I'm doing this for you, yeah?" I asked him frankly. 

"Yeah, yeah, you're all in love with me and shit," he replied sarcastically. 

I choked out a laugh. "Fuck you."

"You wish." 

I winked at him and we broke into a good chuckle just as a knock echoed from the front door. We cut our laughter short, eyes bulging out of their sockets. Smiles crept onto our lips and we scrambled for the door. I had thought we'd get a call, but if they thought it was important enough to pay a visit in person, I felt honored. 

Erik swung the door open to reveal Sirena and Kelsey, two top female trainers from the academy. I hadn't expected them, but I wasn't going to complain about it. 

"Ladies," I greeted them warmly, bowing a little. 

"Afternoon Leif. Erik," Kelsey smiled back. 

"Afternoon already?" I asked, squinting out into the sunlight. 

Sirena handed me a letter, sealed with blue wax, the official stamp of the District Four Career Academy hardened into it. 

"Is this what I think it is?" I asked with a smile. 

Erik frowned, he'd not gotten one. It was obvious what it was. 

"Just read it," Kelsey interjected. "We'll be on our way." 

"Thanks," I beamed back at them, opening the letter carefully as the girls turned and walked down the pavement and away from the house. I could feel Erik's excitement bubbling.

Leif-

This letter has been drafted to inform you that you have earned top marks in your evaluation yesterday. By out-performing 99% of your classmates, you have proven to us that you have what it takes to represent District Four in The Hunger Games. 

However, it has been decided that you will not be granted the opportunity to volunteer this year. We understand that this may come as a shock and disappointment to you. Please understand that this does not reflect your skills, as they are quite extraordinary. We are simply granting the opportunity to an 18 year old Career who has matched your skill-sets, attitude, and commitment. 

Please know that the spot is yours next year, if you should still want it. No evaluation will be necessary. Should you have an questions or comments, I am more than willing to speak with you. See you at the Reaping. 

Sincerely,

Phinneas Beech, Head Trainer

District Four Career Academy

My jaw dropped. 

"What the actual fuck is this?" 

Erik pulled the letter from my grasp and read it. I was in shock, it didn't hit me until Erik gasped. 

"No fucking way, dude..." he trailed off in disbelief. 

Anger swelled over the shock and constricted me. I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth. This wasn't happening. This isn't happening. What fucking little puke stole my spot from underneath me? I was fuming. Ripping the letter from Erik's grasp, I tore it to bits, mumblring incoherently under my breath. Erik backed up as I spun around to punch a hole through the front door. 

"No fucking 18 year old cocksucker is stealing this from me just because he's a year older than me. Mother fucking son of a bitch!" 

I wanted nothing more than to find out who it was, although I knew there were only two, maybe three options. I would find him and I would put him out of commission. 

"Alright, little brother. We've got a some planning to do," I said, looking at him, the wheels in my mind already turning. "Let's go." I grabbed his arm and pulled the door shut behind us. Pieces of wood and debris fell from the hole I'd left and floated down to the front porch. I'd get in trouble for that later, but I had more important matters on my mind.

[plunder-and-pillage]

Well... Fuck \\ Journal Entry #4

Erik and I were discussing this year's upcoming reaping over breakfast. We knew it was going to be a shit show, a scramble to volunteer, just like it was every year. All the careers wanted to prove their worth, especially the 18 year olds. It was their last year, why wouldn't they want to? Luckily, after all the sign up sheets were full, there was one final evaluation before the reaping. The sheets were always full of names, more names than there were spaces. And mine, well it was on the top. 

In one hour, Erik and I would be off to our individual evaluations to prove that we had the guff to back up our desire to volunteer. Erik was nervous, but I wasn't. I had a feeling in my chest, I felt it in my bones. It was my year. Erik wanted it, but not as bad as I did. He'd be happy for me if I got it. I hated the idea of leaving him alone with Pop but the bigger picture was more important. If I could win, I could get us both out of here forever. 

"What?" Erik asked, much nicer than I would've. 

"You two know that if either of you go, your old man's gonna be your mentor, right?" 

A sudden burst of nausea erupted from the pit of my stomach. I sneered, my eyes met Erik's. Of course, how could I have forgotten and ignored such an important detail? I swallowed the lump in my throat, realizing that it was just one last thing... I'd have to deal with him just a little longer. And the only thing that made me feel better about it was knowing that he'd be in the Capitol with me instead of here at home, Erik exposed to his wrath without me here to lessen the beating. 

"Oh goody," I replied sarcastically. 

"Watch your tone," he warned. He opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice, gulping it down. Erik and I were on the way out the door when we heard his words of encouragement. 

"Good luck lads."

I raised my hand slowly, flicking the prick off, before heading out the door. I'll probably get something for that later. Whatever.

[plunder-and-pillage]

I'd Rather do Anything Else \\ Journal Entry #3

I tossed the nudie mag back over to Erik after checking out the hot blonde pin up model he'd just spent 5 minutes gushing over. Reminding him that I could head out so he could spend some alone time with her, there was a knock on the bedroom door before I reached the doorknob. I sighed and opened it up, the possibilities of the person on the other side being someone I didn't want to see around 100%. 

It was mum. Of course it was. 

After an immensely long argument between the three of us, Astrid finally traipsed down the hall in her costume and practically begged. I couldn't give a flying fuck about her or her stupid play, but I hated it when she cried. Mum pinched me before fussing over her little doll. Mustn't ruin her make-up, you know. Of all the important things in life... 

So half an hour later, we were driving into town like a proper fucking family. People would wave, Pop would honk and wave back like the prick he is. He and his fandom could go to hell. If I ever win that crown, I'd not ride around Four like a bloody idiot who thinks he's in a fucking parade 24/7. Mum smiles proudly, happy to be Pop's arm candy. That was all she'd ever wanted in the first place as far as I could tell. The riches, the recognition, and her daughter. Figures that they stopped trying for kids once Astrid came along, that was all she needed. 

Erik and I did our best to ignore the attention as we walked through the double doors of the school. We sought attention amongst our peers, of course, but I wasn't here to make face for the mayor or Pop's fans. To everyone else, we were just Lachlan Somerley's kids. Mum and Astrid loved the limelight, though. They slurped it up like thirsty bitches, mum had taught her little doll well. She'd curtsy and bat her eyes and the crowd would melt into puddles. Ridiculous. Everyone was excited because Astrid had "landed" the leading female role. I figured that she didn't really do much in the way to earn it though. 

Erik and I branched off once we ran into a couple friends from school, much to the displeasure of mum. Pop didn't even notice. We spent the rest of the night in one of the back rows, passing a flask between us and flirting with the girls who were sitting behind us. The play was utter garbage, just as I'd assumed, and Astrid was, from what I noticed, the worst. But mum cheered the loudest, you could hear her shouts echoing off the walls. Must be nice when someone's proud of you even if you've performed like shit. 

We slipped away as soon as we could and went to a party. Only stuck around long enough to give Astrid lackluster and very forced congratulatory hugs. I never did like that kind of shit and mum knew it. She never cared much about anything but Astrid anyhow. Astrid had never been to any of our public evaluations or career competitions, mum always said it was far too violent for a lady of her standing. Ironic how much violence that little brat is actually surrounded by. If it weren't for that violence, mum wouldn't have even had her, she'd never have set her sights on Pop and followed him here. And yet, we were expected to dote on her, celebrate all her achievements, and be... proud of her. 

Wonder what'll happen when Erik or I heads to the Games. Will she get to watch then?