Capítulo 181: 178 First Steps Overseas
Nuuk, Greenland, January 1st, 14:12, 2009.
Turns out that to get to Greenland you have to fly to Keflavík in Iceland first and then get a flight to the capital of Greenland, Nuuk, where I am right now, which seems a little convoluted, but whatever, I can deal.
"Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find the Qivittoq?"
Like the dozen or so Greenlanders that I have already asked, the man in front of me only graces me with a panicked, fearful look before scurrying away in silence, annoying me greatly.
I decided that I should wait 'till the new year before properly starting my holiday, and after spending a couple of days bouncing between Clara and Billy, as well as random women in bars whenever they were busy with work, the time finally came to leave.
I figured I'd start with Greenland before visiting the mainland of Europe because there is supposed to be a pretty powerful parahuman around these parts and I want to see how he matches up.
I even did some reading on the flight over, which I could only do so casually because I paid a random woman ten grand to let me borrow her face and passport for the trip.
Shapeshifting is so damn helpful, especially now that I'm so good at it. I can replicate just about anyone's appearance with ease, so long as their build isn't too different to my own, so most men are off the table for disguises.
Anyway, I did some light reading.
The guy I'm here to visit is apparently called Qivittoq, which basically means something along the lines of a wandering spirit that results when people are banished from the village, since it's not like anyone can survive Greenland's nature, at least not if they're merely a human.
A parahuman however is an entirely different story.
The only issue is that apparently the Greenlandic folk are still a pretty superstitious lot, so they fear these Qivittoq quite a lot, even more so since one of them presumably triggered.
But if no one tells me where to find him by the end of the day then I'm just going to go with the old classic of forcing them to.
With that thought in mind, I move to the next person I see, a skinny, nerdy looking dude with glasses, and prepare myself to get the same response once again.
"Excuse me, where can I find the Qivittoq?" I ask once more in perfect Greenlandic.
Cranial apparently only had the language in store because some really superstitious guy left the country after Qivittoq triggered and wanted to start a completely new life, language and all.
"Qivittoq?" The man asks in surprise, not seeming scared of the word for once, "you a American yes? Why you, ah, isigiit? Eh, how say?"
I find myself pleasantly surprised at his English, no matter how broken, because it means I might actually learn something useful, so I quickly translate isigiit for him.
"Tamanna isumaqarpoq, look," I say, making him snap his fingers in realisation and give me a pleased smile.
"Ah yes, look! Why you look to Qivittoq? illersorneqanngilaq, Dangerous."
"Don't worry about it," I say in English before moving back to Greenlandic to make sure he understands, "I just need to know where he is, will you help me?"
He gives me a curious look, but thankfully doesn't seem to be reticent.
"You speak Kalaallisut good American, who, ah, who... I can't think of the words, who taught you? I assume your parents? Because you speak with the fluency of a native."
Maybe if I actually worked for my new language skills I'd have felt some pride at his compliment, but as it is I just decide to play into his beliefs since it'll make things easier for me.
"Aha, I guess it's pretty obvious, my mother was a scientist studying here, she left with my father, he fell in love with her when she made him pancakes, the rest is history."
It's fun just lying sometimes. Maybe I should write a book or something? Lying is no different to telling stories after all, just make shit up and hope it makes sense.
However I quickly discover the downside of making up a backstory as Alornerk, as I learnt his name is, decided that we should exchange life stories then and there.
I think he just wanted to make the most of meeting an American to improve his English which is fair enough really.
But after a staggering two hours of surprisingly enjoyable conversation Alornerk eventually pointed me in the direction of Qivittoq, alongside a warning of not getting too close to the storm.
From what I hear, Qivittoq is a lot like Ash Beast. But while Ash Beast is effectively a constant nuclear explosion slowly wandering the African deserts, Qivittoq is more purposeful.
By which I simply mean that he raids a settlement every now and then for food and supplies before returning to his wondering of the icy mountains, forever surrounded by such a thick storm of snow that no one even knows what he looks like.
Only a vague shadow of a man has ever been seen, and Greenland has got the point where they just don't even try and fight him anymore ever since their entire meagre military was wiped out by him, followed by a small Protectorate squad that also got wiped out to the last.
At this point, if any town or city or whatever gets a sudden and unexpected snowstorm, they just tell everyone to stay inside until it leaves, while unlocking a fully stocked box full of supplies that gets left for his visits so that he doesn't cause any harm robbing them.
But that's boring, I want to see how much he can do. How is he supposed to know the limits of his powers if no one forces him to use them after all.
Plus it should be fun, I don't think I've fought an ice-user yet.
Doesn't mean it isn't going to be a pain in the ass to find him, Greenland is big.
Guess I'll just fly around in the direction Alornerk gave me and investigate any storms I see.
With that plan in mind, I make my way out of Nuuk, getting a few strange looks as I do so, but I'm pretty sure it's not because of my clothes for once, since I'm wearing clothes that I specifically chose in order to not to stand out.
Whatever, I'll just see how things go.
========
Meanwhile, in a vast open plane not too far from Lusia, a terrible storm is brewing.
However, despite the disparaging sight and the cautionary tales that mothers tell their children, the sight in the eye of this storm is a far cry from the evil, ghastly figure that the Qivittoq is known for.
Instead, it appears to simply be a destitute young man, dressed in a ragged and faded red parka, with multiple layers of clothes being worn underneath, each fabric just as flayed as the next.
The only part of the tale of Qivittoq's that seems to be true for this young man is how he aimlessly wanders beyond the mountains.
However, if one were to see beneath his constantly raised hood, they would see a simple man. He has a short scruffy beard that clearly hasn't been trimmed or groomed and has a pair of bright, pale-blue eyes.
The most interesting thing, is that his features are not Greenlandic. Indeed, the man most well known as Qivittoq, is a man called Petr, from Norway.
He used to live there with his parents, a stern couple who would constantly push him to be better, to do better. He still recalls their harsh lessons in his dreams.
Study harder. Work harder. Be better.
It's why he's so content with what his life has become, even if he's not happy with how he got here.
After all, he no longer has to work, or push himself or live up to any expectations.
Instead, he simply walks around, or cuts a hole through the ice with his powers and just sits there and fishes. Occasionally he'll visit a town, if he wants some variety for his food, or some new clothes.
But for the most part, he's content with his life, relaxing in solitude.
Yet he would be lying if he said he doesn't get bored sometimes.
Though, he remains thankful that he even can feel bored. His life certainly hasn't been easy in recent years after all. Not since a little over a year ago, when his home was destroyed and his life ruined.
The day started like any other, with nothing seeming out of the ordinary.
But that all changed at around midday. Because that is when the sirens started.
He hadn't kept track of which of the three attacked last, so he wasn't sure which Endbringer was going to kill him, but that question was soon answered once his family rushed him to the car outside and he got a clear look up at the sky.
There, descending from the clouds like a messenger of God, he saw an Angel. Ziz, Israfel, Ulama, The Third, or, as she is most well known, Simurgh, The Hope Killer.
And her reputation surely did proceed her as Petr watched the Endbringer sunder the earth and wield it as her weapons, lifting entire skyscrapers with only her mind and using them as tools to bludgeon the swarm of Heroes that came to fight her.
But her combat prowess is not what makes her so feared no. No, what people truly fear is her scream.
And Petr heard it. Resonating deep in his mind. A constant drumming in his skull, a pressure against his mind.
He thought he was doomed, just like any other.
Petr doesn't know what happened to his father. Just that he was lost. But Petr and his mother actually managed to make it out of the city in time to avoid a quarantine, and the people from the PRT assured both him and his mother that they were out quick enough that they won't be forced to remain detained.
But avoiding the fate of being a Ziz Bomb does not mean that one leaves such an incident without scars.
His home was gone, walled off and abandoned. His belongings were no longer his and the payment that he got from the international relief fund was hardly equal to what he no longer had.
His mother certainly wasn't the same since, and Petr has never been able to figure out if it was what the Simurgh had done to her, of if it was merely her own paranoia that got to her.
In the end, she forced them to move to Greenland, saying that an Endbringer would never target such an isolated and barren land.
Which, he supposes, is true. They always seem to want to cause humanity as much suffering as possible, so Greenland was a safe bet to remain safe from them.
However, she forgot to consider the land itself and it's inhabitants.
With her erratic and paranoid behaviour, it did not take the people they moved in with to notice that something was wrong, and even less time to find out exactly what.
After that, the two of them were abandoned, exiled from the town and forced to roam the mountains. To suffer the fate of the Qivittoq.
His mother only lasted four days, and Petr was soon to follow her.
The only question in his mind was whether hunger would claim him before the cold did. Yet that question was answered after his thirteenth day, when he lay starving and freezing, buried under an inch of snow with skin more blue than white.
But in his final moments, filled with pain and despair and indescribable cold, a change occurred. He triggered.
Now, the ice is his to control and the snow is a warm blanket. The very biome that was to be his undoing, ended up becoming his to control.
And as a man with power over ice in a country founded on such, nobody can tell Petr what to do anymore. He can relax and sleep and fish and simply enjoy his silence.
At least, that is what he was doing. But he can feel someone approaching. He can feel their boots compacting the snow beneath them with every step they take as if they were walking on his very body, and he immediately recognises their stride.
The stride of a parahuman. Only those with supernatural powers can walk so easily through a blizzard after all.
Petr is weary of parahumans.
The only ones he's met seemed to want him dead, so he feels it's fair to be sceptical, so he does not let his guard down even as the apparent woman greets him.
"Hey there!~ My name's Lusia!~ Are you the Qivittoq I've heard so much about?~" She asks, yet he does not understand her.
He doesn't speak Greenlandic after all, otherwise maybe he could have told everyone to leave him alone before they tried to kill him.
"Hva? Vat?" He asks in return, first in Norwegian and then in his best English, only to be surprised when the woman slumps to her knees at his words.
"I specifically learnt this fucking language so that I could speak to you and you don't even know it? What the fuck language did you even speak anyway? Don't tell me I leant two dozen languages and you don't speak any of them!"
He still doesn't understand what she's saying, but before he can consider how to proceed, the woman abruptly jumps back to her feet, far too fast to be normal, proving his thought of her parahumanism.
"Hey there! My name's Lusia!~ Are you the guy making this here storm?~" She asks, energetic as if her display of defeat never happened.
"Yes. That is me," Petr answers, cautiously preparing his powers in case she attacks, but also wondering what she would want. It's been a while since anyone has specifically come looking for him.
Yet, the simple honesty of her response throws him off guard.
"Neat! Wanna fight to the death?~"
What a strange woman.
=================
A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!
This chapter's probably rlly shit, but I'm so fucking tired rn. I had to get up way earlier than I wanted to to catch a train and i am just shattered. I was planning on having this chap just be lusia making her way over and the next chap being from Petr's pov with the chap after that having most of the fighting, but I'm way too tired rn to come up with that much fucking plot so I combined the two chapters into one shitty amalgam.
Sorry not sorry, though I'll prolly just be sorry once I wake up, but I'm way too tired to give a shit right now.
Also, spent like an hour looking into greenland and it's lore and language only to fucking hardly use it. Oh yeah, let me know what you think of how I displayed bilingualism, with the italics and stuff, feedback would be appreciated.
me go sleep sleep.
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