#bjarki

[elixir]

photo by Bjarki

[389]

[iamlisteningto]

Bjarki’s Happy Earthday

[lazytownpoint]

IceLand ELekTroNiQue!

Enjoy the sounds of Icelandic electro musik with dazzling scenes of the countryside [Radio Promo by LazyTown Writer Mark Valenti], as broadcast on SlackRadio.org! ->

[muchpreferredcustomers]

Bjarki - Rave Daddy

[thalassic-p4rk]

some frames from a lil bjarki storyboard thing i just noticed has a bunch of mistakes so i wont post the full thing rn but here’s some silly eeeeeeeee

bjarki is so adorable i love them so so much omfg they’re so damn PRECIOUS

LOOK AT THEM *shakes u*

[monsters-lurk-in-peatlands]

Looks like my favourite noivern is enjoying herself!

[Image ID: a low-quality photo of a perched noivern, "looking" at something off-screen. Their eyes are covered by a handsewn blindfold, an embroidered eye placed in the center.]

Due to bjarki's nocturnal lifestyle and severe sensitivity to light, even the moonlight can cause the worst pains! So, I hope this blindfold will help her out. For those who worry if she'll be able to see in such a condition, please remember noivern utilise echolocation to locate their surroundings, so she's completely fine!

If not, I'll be sure to take it off post-haste

[peacesmith]

welcome Bjarki Andersson (Kendrick’s boyfriend) as an official part of THE SPIRIT KIDS lore 🙌

[sanguine-arena]

scrap; misc drabbles #2

desc: during a game against the Alekov Valiant, young hotheaded Neon Knights defenseman Antonio Agnello decides he has to stand up for his goalie. despite swearing that he saw the Valiant’s player run their goalie over, Antonio’s defense partner, Bjarki, separates him from the opposing player in an attempt to calm him down from what seems to be one of his common overreactions.

cw: very mild violence mention, lots of swearing

wc: 1,266

tags: @thetruearchmagos , @hottubraccoon , @elijahrichardwrites , @jezifster , @isherwoodj (dm me if you want to be added/removed)

---

“Hey, hey, hey, hey-!” 

Antonio ignored the sound of Bjarki’s calls for him or didn’t hear them at all as he took off full speed towards one of the opposing Valiant skaters. He was honed in on the much larger forward, dead set on persecuting him for the crime of taking a run at their goalie after the whistle. His strides were short but powerful nonetheless, ice easily spraying up behind him with every crank he made into it. 

He didn’t take much longer to finally catch up with him, and wasted no time throwing a crosscheck into the number eight plastered on the back of his jersey. The much taller blond stumbled from the shock, not expecting the attack even a little bit- he regained his footing and turned around, his green eyes expressing confusion more than anger.

“Hey man, what the fuck? What’s your fuckin’ problem-?” “You know what you did!” Antonio snapped at him, his voice cracking towards the end. He looked up at the other, who was easily a foot taller than him, though that wasn’t a situation Antonio could say he’d never been in before. “You don’t run our fucking goalie like that! Got it?”

Antonio’s blood boiled when he laughed in his face instead of being angry back at him. 

“Yeah, okay,” the other said, dismissing him altogether. “Whatever you say, kid.” “Hey! Ant, get over here-” Antonio ignored Bjarki’s calls for him once more, two handing his opponent once more before throwing his stick aside entirely. He threw it and his gloves off in one fluid motion that could only signify this wasn’t the first time he’d done this. He snagged the blond’s jersey in one fist as the taller of the two faltered again, and he pulled down on it with a certain ferocity the other couldn’t say he’d ever seen before. He stumbled over himself once more, and Antonio finally took the opportunity to pounce on him like a cat to a mouse.

The two slammed down to the ice moments later, and Antonio started slamming a flurry of punches into the other’s face. He kept going, even as the other squirmed and tried to fight back without much luck. He managed to crack Antonio in the jaw once in what seemed like pure luck, though it didn’t seem to phase the smaller of the two for too long as he continued wailing on him immediately after he’d popped it back into place enough to relieve the pain for now. He kept going even as bruises began to set in on the other’s face, and the bones in his nose started to crack and shift by themselves. 

Whistles from the referees were starting to blare throughout the rink, the sound of them skating over becoming more obvious. Bjarki soon caught up to the fight, as well, and Antonio felt him tugging on the back of his jersey. The first and more gentle of the attempts didn’t get the message to stop through to him, and as such Bjarki was forced to use all of the strength that came with standing at a massive six foot eight to forcefully pull him off of the Valiant skater by his jersey’s collar. He effectively scruffed Antonio off of the other, skating away from the scene with him while the much smaller of the pair furiously squirmed and tried to kick himself away from him.

“What the fuck? I was teaching that guy a fucking lesson-” Antonio said, his tone almost an exasperated shriek as he did. “I was kicking his ass-” The officials helped the Valiant skater up and away from where he’d been attacked, escorting him to his team’s bench while Bjarki tried to reign his defense partner in a bit more. Antonio soon kicked himself free, though Bjarki would never tell him that he’d partly let him go anyway. He put himself between Antonio and any open ice that could’ve led to the Valiant bench, who were all certainly looking on to the scene that Antonio was making right about now. 

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Antonio shouted up at him, even giving Bjarki as hard of a shove as he could manage in hopes of riling him up, as well.

Bjarki, eternally unfazeable, sighed softly and looked down at him with what could only be explained as half disappointment and half pity.

“He didn’t even do that on purpose.” “You don’t fucking know that-” Antonio continued his tirade, shoving him again and even teetering on the edge of angry tears. “Didn’t you see what he did? Do you even fucking pay attention?”

“Ant.” Bjarki’s tone was stern, but quiet, and he let himself skate back a couple more inches to give himself more of a buffer. “Calm down. Now. He didn’t run him on purpose.” “I- You’re so fucking stupid! You don’t ever pay attention-” Antonio stumbled over his words, shaking his head frantically to get the tears to stay in his eyes. His thoughts ran at a thousand miles an hour now, and getting anything out coherently seemed impossible. “You don’t ever want to fucking stand up for anyone! You never want to be there for us!” Bjarki couldn’t help but flinch at the accusation, but tightened his jaw and took a deep breath before he responded.

“Ant. Listen to me.” he kept the stern tone, and Antonio could feel how hard he was being stared down right now. “You need to learn to control yourself. You’re a solid defenseman, but you get so riled up and so in your head, and-” “Don’t talk down to me like that!” Antonio’s anger started to falter a bit now, and his hands shook under his gloves. His breaths grew uneven, and he could only hope that Bjarki couldn’t tell. “At least I give a shit about this team! At least one of us is going to stand up for our guys! What are you going to do?”

Antonio’s rage had completely fallen off by his last question, and soon the tears started to pour out of him. He instantly turned his gaze down to his skates, and his shaky breathing was more obvious than he’d ever wanted it to be. Bjarki soon skated closer to him, hesitating before going to wrap an arm around him in an attempt to comfort him now.

“Hey, Ant- let’s go sit, okay? It’s alright, you’re al-” 

“Don’t- don’t fucking touch me.” Antonio pushed him away, and soon skated away from him entirely, only to skate towards the Neon Knights’ bench instead of towards the other bench to restart the fight. He didn’t go to restart the fight, like Bjarki had seen him do easily a thousand times before tonight and had expected him to do once more. Antonio hated how quiet he’d sounded, though the lump in his throat from how hard he was trying to hold back crying wouldn’t let him be any louder. 

He reached over the bench’s door, fidgeting with the handle for a moment before it finally popped open to let him in. Antonio slammed it behind him and made his way down the tunnel and towards their locker room. Though, if Bjarki were honest, the lack of his usual effort in slamming the door concerned him and made his chest tighten up with worry more than the act of slamming the door itself. 

He looked up, and saw the thousands of eyes staring directly at him, and he could’ve sworn he’d be able to hear a pin drop in the arena in that moment.

[eleonoraalbright]

The Mystery of Mistletoe

Pairing: Peter Pan x fem!reader

Summary: You find yourself underneath a mistletoe with Pan. Unfortunately for you, when you rush off in a hurry it leaves Peter with an insatiable desire to know why you are afraid of the small plant.

You hummed a merry tune while your hand brushed over the bushes’ green leaves to find edible berries. The dazzling sun hung high in the cloudless blue sky, causing beads of sweat to roll down your forehead.

You wiped them away and continued your work. It was a great pity that berry picking had to be done during the hot afternoon. The cool mornings were too full to add this chore to the busy schedule, and the evening sun would trick your eyes into picking the wrong, poisonous berries.

Your two consolations were that three out of the four baskets were filled, and you had help with the task. Peter Pan himself labored alongside you in the humid jungle. You were very grateful for his aid though you couldn’t fathom why he did it.

Surely, as Neverland’s ruler, he had better things to do than this. You wouldn’t voice this question aloud, lest he decide to quit the drudgery. Pan straightened out from hunching over the greenery and arched backwards, a satisfying pop emitting from the stretch.

“Let's take a quick break,” he suggested. Even though you had half a basket left and a break would prolong your time out here, you agreed. You and Pan sat on a log to rest. You brought out your waterskin and took a much-needed drink.

The cool water soothed your parched throat. You would have taken another long swig, but Pan held out his hand for a turn. You handed it to him for he must have been as thirsty as you were. He tipped the water skin and gulped down the refreshing liquid.

A trickle of water escaped his mouth and ran down the side of his chin. You had half a mind to catch the single drop with your finger and lick it. Not one bit of water should go to waste, should it? You shook your head to clear your muddled thoughts. It wouldn’t be a good idea to do that.

Annoying insects buzzed around your head, adding to the discomfort. A mosquito landed on your arm and you slapped it off. Had you been thinking, you might have worn a long-sleeved coat to ward off the blood-sucking bugs, but the notion had seemed like lunacy in the oppressive heat.

Your options were being drenched in buckets of sweat or covered in small, red bites. You had chosen the bites. Now it seemed the wrong one to pick; the following nights would be spent scratching your arms, legs, and neck to relieve the itchiness. Pan let out a sigh and scooched closer to you on the log where it was partly in the shade. He tossed the empty waterskin to the ground.

“Do you think you could assign some other Lost Boys to berry picking tomorrow?” If you had to endure yet another day in the muggy forest, you would scream. Well, that was a lie. You were too tired to scream, the most you would be able to muster would be a grumble.

“I don’t think anyone will do any chores tomorrow. We’ll all need a respite from this blistering heat. Tomorrow we’ll go down to the river. It’s been a while since we’ve played any river games anyhow.”

“Oh, that sounds amazing.” You imagined splashing in the water, your whole body cooling off from diving down and swimming. You would have a breath holding contest with Qian, Devin, and Darragh.

Last time Qian had won, but you had been practicing. Maybe everyone would participate in the game Marco Polo you had introduced to them. They had loved it previously, a little too much.

Bjarki had gotten a bit too invested in the game and gave one of the smaller boys, Andres, a black eye and knocked out his tooth while trying to catch him. The scuffle had turned to a full out war which led to three boys getting concussions and almost drowning underwater.

No lasting harm had been done as they had been rescued and resuscitated. The group could also play sharks and squids which was similar to the game of sharks and mermaids you used to play at the pool, but with more violence.

Pan interrupted your thoughts by mumbling, “I wish we were able to eat mistletoe. It looks delicious.” You followed his gaze upwards and saw the plant dangling from a branch above you both. All drowsiness and lethargy disappeared from your mind as you hurled yourself off the log, tumbled to the ground, and scrambled farther away from the red berries.

Peter was surprised by your actions. He glanced at the plant again to see if anything was wrong with it to have caused such a reaction. Nothing was. It seemed to be a regular old mistletoe. He said with slight amusement coloring his voice, “You seem more terrified of that plant than the dreamshade.”

“And for good reason!” You blurted out. You were confused by Pan’s words. Wasn’t it obvious why you wouldn’t want to be caught under a mistletoe with him? It then occurred to you that, of course, he wouldn’t be aware of the implications and traditions from your world.

He wasn’t from it, so why should he? You breathed a sigh of relief and stood up, dusting yourself off. You laughed, “My mistake, Pan. The heat must be getting to me. I’m not acting like myself.” You grabbed two baskets and began dragging them away.

“Well, I think we have enough provisions. I’ll get these and see you back at camp.” Thankfully, Pan allowed you to leave. You didn't know whether your face burned from embarrassment or from the sweltering temperature. Instinct made you leap from him, but to be honest, kissing Pan might not have been the worst scenario to find yourself in.

You doubted that would happen even if you did explain the custom to him. Doubtless, he would think you were making it up in a poor flirting attempt and mock you. It was better for him to think you batty for a fear of a mistletoe plant or going delirious in the stifling atmosphere.

Peter plucked the plant from its place off the branch and inspected it. He had thought perhaps there had been an enormous beetle or arachnid in its leaves. Just as he thought, there was nothing outright alarming about the humble flora.

Heat had not been an issue for you before, so why would it be now? No, Pan was quite sure your peculiar behavior was because of the mistletoe. The question was what exactly. It seemed like some tests were needed to find out. Was it the whole thing or only parts of it that scared you? Peter Pan was determined to find out.

A day later, the sun was setting in the west, bathing the clear sky in a multitude of blazing colors. An array of pinks and purples washed over the blue and tinged the horizon edges with orange. The Lost Boys were chattering and laughing as they prepared their crude makeshift beds for tonight. A few tents were pitched up.

There weren’t enough to go around for all the boys due to an unfortunate mishap regarding a not-properly-put-out-fire and high winds, meaning the boys had to take turns in sleeping in them. Luckily for Pan, tonight was your turn to sleep directly underneath the stars. He watched from a good distance as you made your pallet ready.

You managed to take another blanket from an older boy and gave it to a younger one who had been complaining about being cold. You went to fluff up your flat pillow when you spotted the small gift Pan had left on the mat. Teleporting closer, Pan lurked in the nearby bushes to witness firsthand your reaction.

He saw you bend down and pick up the bunch of mistletoe berries he left scattered there. You brought them to eye level and stared at them hard as if unsure what they were. Recognition flashed in your eyes and Peter noticed with delight your head swivel this way and that, looking for the person who did this.

Well, that got an interesting reaction out of you. However, to his disappointment, you tossed the red berries into the fire and went off to bed. He was hoping for a bigger outburst from you. He had even speculated you might try to switch sleeping pads with someone else from fear that more berries would appear.

But no, you had been quite commonsensical. On the other hand, there had been that little panicked moment when you realized what the unwanted gift was. Intrigued by your reaction, Pan decided more testing was needed.

The temperature had cooled down considerably the following morning when Peter sent you on a ‘special’ mission. He assigned you the task to find a particular carrot which could force whoever ate it to dance an entire day and night.

The root was on Neverland’s southern side and grew in the rocky area between the forest and the beach. He told you it was identifiable by its bright, sparkly pink leaves. This was complete balderdash needless to say; Pan only wanted you in that region because he had a certain surprise in store.

He tracked your location and became more excited as you approached the destination. Hiding behind a large boulder, Pan spied as you trudged out of the forest and came into view. Your expression morphed into one of great confusion.

Spread out for what looked like the whole beach were leaves. You stepped onto the green mass and grabbed a leaf, tracing its spiky edges. You let it fall to the ground, placed your hands on your hips, and gazed upwards. As far as he could tell, you were very bewildered at the strange situation.

Pan waited with eagerness for you to throw a fit of some sorts or at least run away from the mistletoe leaves. Again, to his disappointment and ever-growing bafflement, you did not. Instead, you plodded along, kicking your feet through the leaves. Evidently, you were still on your quest to get the imaginary root. Pan cursed.

How thick-headed could you be? Did you not see that it was a trick? Pan left. He would let you waste all morning, afternoon, and evening searching for the stupid carrot. It served you right for being such an enigma; worrying about mistletoe one day and not caring about it the next.

Pan sulked. He sat on a log on the camp’s outskirts, fiddling with a crown made of mistletoe in his hands. This was preposterous. Why should he care whether or not you were afraid of the parasitic plant? In an instant, he answered himself: because it would be funny if you had a mistletoe phobia. What was different regarding the circumstances? It couldn’t be the presence of people.

He was there the first time and the Lost Boys had been there the second time, but you had thought you were alone in the last instance. Your first reaction was big while the other two weren’t. Peter held up the leafy crown to study it.

Should he try to recreate the situation to see if the same thing happened? He was so deep in his pondering that he didn’t notice when a Lost Boy came up to him until the youngster spoke.

“Hiya, Pan. Me and some boys made another tent outta the animal hide and we’re wonderin’ if–” He stopped and gawked at the plant his master was holding. “Say, ya got yourself some mistletoe! Neato! Ya gunna use it tah kiss some mermaids? Sure as heck wouldn’t mind smoochin’ those setta fish lips! Ya should–”

Seizing on the peculiar words, Pan leaped to his feet and clutched the boy's shoulders. “What do you mean by ‘use it to kiss some mermaids’?” Did this flora have a secret magical ability he was unaware of? Could this have any connection to your dislike of it? Would it have anything to do with why you flung yourself away from it and threw the berries in the fire?

The scared boy gasped, “If t-two people are under a mistlet-toe, they have tah kiss. It’s tra–tradition.” Pan released the boy. It all made sense now! Patting the boy on the back, he set off to one of his tree houses on the island. He had much to plan and prepare!

You plopped down at the Lost boys’ campsite. Your bones ached and hunger gnawed at your insides. All day was squandered looking for that carrot. You foraged high and low for that thing and had nothing to show for it, not even a sparkly, pink leaf.

You were beginning to wonder whether it existed or if the expedition was a mean joke played for fun. If that was the case, then it wasn’t a very good joke.

If it was real, you would be in hot water with Peter Pan for not finding it. Why would he want a carrot that made you dance? Your tiring questions were forgotten when Felix marched to the spot where you were sitting.

As usual, he spared no time on pleasantries. No, how are you? Do you want some food? Where have you been? To your annoyance, he stated, “Pan wants to see you at trumpet vine tree house.”

You huffed in displeasure, “Why?”

“I don’t know why. He wants you there now.” Felix gave you a stern look which clearly said, If you don’t get up of your own accord, I will drag you there myself.

You groaned. Pan’s word was law. Any protest against his commands would not end pretty for you. You complied with the order and made your way to the trumpet vine treehouse. The place got its name from the vines curling along its trunk and branches, beautiful reddish-yellow flowers bloomed to add a lovely fragrance in the air.

It was about a fifteen-minute walk away. Why did Pan want to see you and in a private setting to boot? Did he want the enchanted carrot? How angry would he get when he found out you didn’t retrieve it?

Should you pretend to have eaten it and dance for twenty-four hours. No, that was a dumb idea. Oh well, you would just have to tell the truth. You arrived and began to climb up the rope ladder.

You poked your head through the opening in the floor and your jaw dropped. On the ceiling, hanging above you, were dozens of mistletoe plants. What the hell was going on with mistletoe! Two days ago, had been the starting incident, then it was the berries on your pillow, then a whole beach full of them!

You didn’t notice Pan was in the room before he spoke, “Something the matter?” You had difficulty in forming a sentence. He pulled you up the rest of the way into the treehouse. He looked pleased with himself and rather smug. “Surely you’re not afraid of a little mistletoe, are you?”

“No, no, no! It’s– it’s fine. I wasn’t expecting it though. Nothing to be afraid of with mistletoe after all.” You prayed he wouldn’t be able to detect your lies.

He held onto your wrists and pulled you closer. “Oh? So, you’re not scared of anything we might have to do underneath it?”

“You know…” You admitted, defeated. “How did you find out?”

He smiled in a self-satisfied fashion. “I have my ways. It took a little bit of careful observing, a couple of tests, and a sprinkle of luck. But it was well worth it. Although it is an odd custom to be sure. What other eccentric traditions did you have back in the Land Without Magic?” He stroked your cheek with his thumb which trailed down your neck. His other hand grasped your waist.

Your attempt to answer was blocked by another query. He quirked an eyebrow up and leaned in further to ask, “Don’t you think that for all the grueling work I put in to understand your old world’s ceremonies and rules that I should be rewarded for my effort?”

Hmm, he did have a point. Giving him a small prize for all the work he endured couldn’t be that bad. Grinning, you performed the exact act that you had avoided doing not forty-eight hours prior. The kiss was sweet and simple and you pulled back three seconds later. 

“I would have preferred a kiss on the forehead, but that wasn’t too bad either.” He chuckled at your shocked and hurt face. “That was a mere jest, love. The kiss was near perfect. Much too short of my liking however.” He took a step to the right, bringing you with him. “That’s fine because we are under a different mistletoe and have plenty more to practice under.”

He was right as he always was. Evening faded into night and you and Peter were still in the treehouse practicing.

[pangeen]

" Golden Moment " //© Gunnar Bjarki

[deletedaccd]

I would like to thank everyone for their support to this blog qnd specifically Michael

id like to thank the people who follow

the people who comment

The people who reblog

The people who DM

thepeople who ask for trades and commisions

Massive M A S S I VE

thank your to the people who leave asks

But most of all, to the people who create content of Michael

Id love to thank the people who havw really helped this account grow

@lokii-i 💕

@bjornolf-bjarki

@cry-ptidd

@sinish-tem

@mr-orion

@battybrainworms

@thereweresomanybees

And s o many otherso

i lovw you all <33

[zombiecicada]

Snippet: a student’s report on reincarnation

Bjarki Maisilva

Mr. Jakob Nugyara

SS 22-15-09-04

26th cycle, semi sextile, 3022 AS-R

Defying the Nature of Life and Death: the founding and developmental process of reincarnation.

-

Death is a natural consequence to being a living organism.

For something to have a beginning, it needs to have an ending. Any system, with enough time, will break down and eventually become something else. That is, until you take into consideration the evolutions of systems. If nothing is permanent, under the right circumstances this can circle back and be applied to death.

The process of reincarnation, or as it’s properly scientifically known as, Synthetic Cortex and Vessel Animation, achieves a break in the cycle of life and death. Founded back in The Old Locale during 543 OL-ER the concept was pitched by a team of scientists who were concerned on the rate of which the society was advancing. With a rapidly progressing ice age encasing the planet of our origins, it was predicted that the time and knowledge lost to important individuals such as researchers, scientists, engineers and leaders dying would prevent a solution to the global climate change being found in time. In order to survive the death of our species, death itself had to be surpassed and the next step in evolution had to happen now.

There’s been a few people in modern times who say we should come up with a more catchy acronym than S.C.V.A, but I am on board with the original founders being more focused on literally defying death itself opposed to coming up with a catchy name, besides that’s why we just call it reincarnation nowadays.

At its core a very simplistic and straightforward concept. It did not take the scientists at the time long to formulate theories and hypotheticals to solving the problem, even with their technology being, by comparison to today’s standards, subpar.

Using various forms of imaging technology to capture a full scan of a subject’s brain, a digital copy of all its neurological pathways and functions is created. Brains are not terribly unlike computers, in the sense that it’s electrical signals being sent from point A to point B to order to accomplish tasks and move around information.

While originally intended to be used to simply create a copy of the brain (alongside a copy of donor’s body) grown from various stem cells taken from the donor, an unknown error occurred during first trials. The new copy behaved nothing like the donor, and had no memories of the original version. Effectively, they created an identical clone of the original, which in of itself was a major breakthrough, but it wasn’t the desired results. The clone later named herself Helga and became a recognized citizen of the society.

From there it was proposed that in order to make the new version an effective copy of the original, technological impute was required. This lead to the first model of what is nowadays referred to as the Identity Chip. This chip held all the memories, personality traits, and characteristics of the original individual, the idea being the chip would teach the vessel’s brain how it was supposed to act and what it was supposed to believe.

A second clone using the same method as Helga was used, creating the clone Erla. The end results of this trial were frankly terrifying, but enlightening nonetheless. The chip could not function long term with the body’s composition, Erla’s immune system eventually recognized the chip as a foreign body, attacking it and causing severe encephalitis that later proved fatal for the subject.

Some wanted to put an end to the trials and find another way, but the trials were continued and a solution was proposed. To change the composition of the body entirely, and instead of making the chip compatible with the vessel, making the vessel compatible with the chip.

The process of creating the modern vessels is its own scientific paper, to sum it up swiftly after some trial and error and experimentation with various different components, silicon based vessels opposed to the original carbon based bodies were found to be much more stable. Alongside being more stable, being a semiconductor already used in many modern electronics, it was highly compatible with the Identity Chip.

The change of composition also supported more efficient but volatile liquids instead of iron based blood, leading to the creation of hydrargyrum theraphone, which allowed for the vessels to survive harsher conditions including lower temperatures, granting more time until the full effect of the ice age hit and extending the deadline for a solution. Silicon is every bit as abundant as carbon, as well as also being able to create the same complex chains of molecules responsible for making DNA.

Vessels proved to be fairly pricy to make, even when using widely available, sustainable and therefore cheap materials. It was therefore proposed that the vessels be brought as close as possible to perfection: erasing all complications that could cause early expiration to the vessel.

According to long since archived records and backups in the Central Database from those times, this sparked quite the debate amongst the society of what was and wasn’t a ‘complication’. After much back and forth between the two sides, a decision was made by the queen at the time after hearing a statement from one of the main scientists working on the development of S.C.V.A.

“If to be pjofur is to forever be a disease riddled suffering animal stuck as is for all eternity, doomed to die in hell freezing over, I reject being pjofur.”

Not everyone was happy with this decision, and it lead to another debate shortly afterwards. After all, to eliminate death related to diseases and disorders lead to another concern: population control. If reincarnation became available to everyone, the vessels were designed to live longer than a natural lifespan, and everyone could just continue to have children, the population would rapidly reach an unsustainable level.

This debate ended with two conclusions:

1. The right of reincarnation would be an earned right, alongside such one could have this right revoked and an individual would only be allowed to reincarnate a specific amount of times.

2. That the vessels created would be completely sterile.

Naturally, one’s immediate reaction would be to point out that if we were all in a cycle of reincarnation where it was just the same set limit of people for the next couple thousand years, the society would eventually reach a point of becoming stagnant. No new variables to lead to new discoveries and ideas, a lack of variation in new opinions dooming the society every much as the ice age will if a solution is not found.

To such, scientists revisited the experiment that resulted in the creation of Helga, the copy without memories of the donor used to create her. Helga was approached and asked if she’d like to participate in further studies to solve the most recent hurdle in the S.C.V.A experiments. After securing her consent to rejoin the scientific trials, using the process used to create Helga, but instead using DNA samples taken from two individuals in with the goal of making a successful offspring with a vessel body opposed to Helga’s precursor body.

The results were successful, producing an individual that was later named Runar, who much like Helga retained no memories of either DNA donor, but displayed genetic traits of both donors, being a successful offspring of the originals so to speak. Such all accomplished without the risky, lengthy and painful process of childbearing, alongside the fact that Runar was made without being a carrier or being affected by disorders found in the donors. As Runar grew up and could preform in physical and intellectual trials, it was found that Runar’s ability to learn and preform tasks exceeded that of non vessel pjofur and Runar exceeded expectations.

During the time period of the conclusion of Runar’s trial, as well as a few more equally as successful replications to assure that a merit of results could be reached, a method was being devised to decide who was and wasn’t eligible for reincarnation. The debates on if or if not S.C.V.A was an ethical solution to saving the society was no longer active, the trials were in too deep and too much had been accomplished to back out now. The queen was onboard, as were many of the higher officials and other members of power.

The ice age had progressed significantly as well, and I think the remaining bits of the society were finally ready to face any remaining uncertainties if it meant avoiding a certain demise.

More and more of the population traded their bodies for vessels as they reached eligibility for reincarnation. To gain such there was a certain amount of qualifications one had to meet and a couple tests that had to be completed and passed. Naturally, not everyone did meet eligibility, and a debate on when a person becomes ‘worth saving’ came and went.

Nowadays, reincarnation is simply part of the society, the process since has been polished, any old errors and mistakes in coding and vessel creation are so rare and easy to catch and fix that many have come to dub the process as flawless, and we have long since left The Old Locale behind. The cold case of Jokull Nuygara is sometimes still resurfaces now and again, some wondering how safe the process really is.

But all we can do now is keep evolving, bettering ourselves, and serving the society, none of which would’ve been possible in the first place without the success of the S.C.V.A experiments.