I am the master of my fate

[As the feed clicks on, your resident actually-from-the-19th-century guy is in the now operational cinema, stretched across one of the chairs in the back and staring at the screen. Staring. He is absolutely captivated by this new technological marvel.]

Is this - [He gestures toward the screen, ignoring the confused to irritated looks that fellow viewers give him] - like our devices? This is happening somewhere right now?

[He frowns, then shakes his head.]

Wonders. You people of the city take so much for granted.

[The feed switches on to a shadowy scene, a small room lit by a strong, crackling fire in a central pit. Saul is crouched close to the fire, poking at some fish that are spitted and roasting over it. He's telling a story, so it sounds: his voice is low, yet rich, calling back old memories.]

- by the time we pulled him out, he was as cold and stiff as the ice around us, and very much dead. As dead as you've ever seen a man. Not a scrape on him, of course, just cold, and gray, so gold and gray that his skin cracked if you pressed it too hard. I thought they'd leave him there, why go to the trouble and drag a heavy body back to camp? But the Northern savages, their ways are different from anyone else's. Hunger makes them less than human, or it makes them more.

Their Guardian gave him last rites - but not like you'd give a man. He thanked his soul like they thank the seals they hunt. And I still didn't guess. I was very young... well. You probably do guess, don't you?

Yes. They did have meat that night, even though that man got no seal. They call it compensation, the Northmen. They are like no other men on earth.

[He pulls a fish from the fire, and hands the spit to his companion on the other side of the firepit - Carmen.

He gives her a faint smile along with it, maybe even an apologetic one.]

Not most my appetizing tale, I'm afraid.

[The feed continues to run, cheerfully oblivious.]


((OOC: Coordinated with Jackie <3. in ur city romancin ur villainz.)