The sound of familiar grass crunching under the familiar black tennis shoes laced with green gave Ty feelings that were...familiar. It'd been too long. Far too long since he'd been forced into hiding for damn near a year now. He'd had to leave everything. Again. But this time, his life--and maybe the lives of those he cared about, were in danger. So, to save them, he ran.

But as his icy blue eyes scanned the park under the setting sun, Ty feared said loved ones would never forgive him this time. Too many broken promises; too many instances of claiming--and actually trying to--change, but always reverting back to the same tired thing. Would he try to make things right? If possible, hell yeah he would. But he didn't even know if things were even the same anymore.

Despite looking the same as he had almost a year ago when he left, Ty wasn't exactly the same lovable ball of mischief and charm that he had been. Though that was still there, something...something else lay under his otherwise same as always demeanor. Something...dark. A darkness, an intensity that now lay just bubbling under the surface, waiting to come out, but still held in by Ty's albeit loose code of morals.

His hands still cloaked by black fingerless gloves, he brushed his ginger hair out of his face as he moved to sit on a bench. He had to plot his next move. He'd need a place to stay. His source of income, he could easily come by as always. But there was one more thing he needed. Power. With the right power, he could prevent what he'd dealt with almost his entire life from happening again...

But for now, those deep blue eyes started to drift closed, his exhaustion finally settling in...

The sun was setting, which was amazing and good because New York was too hot. In Finland, it was 58 degrees right now, he knew because he had googled it. In New York it was a million degrees. He knew because he could feel it. It was so hot that even the crickets were getting heat stroke. Panu leaned over the railing of Mr. Jaager's porch and melted. It was so hot he had even shed his hoodie, and that was like a turtle shedding its shell.

Probably he should go back inside. Mr. Jaager's mansion was always seventy-two and pleasantly dehumidified. It was also very, very quiet. His new employer working late, which probably meant that he was not working at his company, but working at killing things. Or destroying things. Or planning to kill or destroy things.

Mr. Jaager was Ragnarok's leader, Jörmungandr. And Panu was his new Muninn, his raven that flew very far and wide and gathered things for him. The Finnish boy was not sure if he was doing well enough. He had found Kaz' crazy warehouse, and gotten the research from Faust (and also done some other things to her), but these were not missions, not really, they were just things he had done. He did not know if they were good enough or not.

The day after tomorrow Jaager was leaving for Sweden, and Panu was leaving for Finland, and they would meet in Helsinki. This would be his first real mission for Ragnarok, and he did not even know if Mr. Jaager thought he was useful. He was going to bomb a police station, but he was going to do it alone, and that meant that either Jaager trusted him a lot or Jaager thought of him as expendable.

The eight year old reached up, and took off his headphones. He rubbed his blonde hair until it was standing in satisfying spikes, and then he shoved the headphones back on. He flopped onto the railing again, and watched the sunset through the phone hung around his neck.

Jaager left him alone many nights. Also many days. Again: either he trusted Panu, or Panu was like a dog to him, one that could be tossed in the backyard and forgotten.

The Fin did not want to be a dog. He peeled himself off the railing, and adjusted his headphones again, and went for a walk. Maybe Jaager would come back while he was gone and worry about where he was.

Panu went to the park. It was only two blocks away, but it was far enough to not see Jaager's big silent house.

In the park was a hobo. He was an adult, but not an old adult. His hair was very red and his clothes were very tattered and he was wearing gloves even though it was so hot that probably the gloves were melding with his flesh. He was sleeping on a bench.

The Finnish boy edged closer, step by step. The man did not look like a scary hobo.

"Excuse me?" The Finnish boy said, leaning over the bench arm near the man's head, his voice soft and polite. "This is bad place to sleep. You are maybe murdered."

This was true. Jaager did not usually hunt so close to home, but sometimes he did, and this was an open space. Easy to see, if the man came back by air. Hobos were easy to kill, because no one cared about them. They had no money and no family and no power.

Ty's sleep was anything but peaceful. He hadn't had a good night's sleep since he left. This involuntary act of sleep was the same. Peace left him when he threw everything he loved out of the window.

Suddenly, he found himself jarred awake by some eight year old brat. But...the boy's words did something to him. The redhead tensed up, jumping to his feet, eyes blazing.

"Murdered?! Who sent you? It was her, wasn't it?" His voice was sharp, his fear long having been replaced by anger. "You know what? If you do work for her...tell her to come get me. I'm done running...I've got nothing left to lose." The look in his eyes said it all. If he went down, he planned to do so fighting. No more running. Never again would he do that.

Suddenly he snapped out of it. Wait...this is just a kid..." He rubbed his eyes.

"I'll be fine. Park benches usually ain't my first choice, kid. Too exposed." A gloved hand rubbed his temple; his head was suddenly killing him, much like when his powers first resurfaced. But now, it wasn't caused by an ability to see a murder after the fact, or to booby trap a doorknob. This pain...was human.

And just the thought of that made him sick.

The blonde boy took one quick step back on sheer reflex, then went very still. He was good at standing still while people were angry. Running always always made things worse, and cringing or crying or talking just made them angrier. So he took slow deep breaths and kept his eyes pointed towards the ground and turned down his audio intake so that the young man was not yelling so loudly.

Panu had been wrong. The ginger was a scary hobo. He waited until the man was done, and then he spoke. The blonde boy's voice was soft but steady. It was important to not sound afraid, either. Weak things were weak and deserved to be hurt. He was quiet but not scared.

(He was actually very scared.)

"I am employed by man, not woman, so you are safe."

Unless Ms. Brass, the white tiger secretary, really was in charge of Jaager. It seemed like it, sometimes. Possibly she was a genius mastermind keeping the dragon on a long leash, and Panu was indirectly working for her. He knew she was an empath, but maybe she was really a broader type of psychic and her abilities had set him on the path to meet with the hobo tonight and he was being used as a distraction and right this second someone was going to kill the man--

Crickets continued to chirp around them for some seconds after his spoke, so probably not.

The boy adjusted his big headphones somewhat fussily. The man seemed calmer, so probably he was not a murder hobo, just a scared hobo.

"But still. Probably murdered. This is stupid place if you are not hiding, and more stupid if you are. I am not even looking for you, and I find you."

Weak things were weak and deserved to be hurt. Panu was not very big or very strong or very good at English, but there was something warm growing in his chest that maybe had been sparked when the man yelled at him, or maybe when Jaager told him the mission in Finland and then flew off to go hobo hunting (or whatever it was that Jaager did when he was alone, Panu told him many things but Jaager did not tell many things to Panu). It was a thing that felt like Victor, the big warm fire mutant, when he was getting hot enough that there was steam coming out of his nostrils. Maybe it had kindled earlier, but always he had been around people too strong to burn. But this man was weak and alone and skinny like kindling.

The young Fin shoved his hands in his jean pockets. His clothes were all very new, and his sneakers and the phone around his neck very expensive, and this neighborhood very upscale. It was the hobo that did not belong here, not him.

"If this is best place you can hide than probably it is okay if you are murdered. Good night, please sleep well on your murder bench."

Panu turned to leave. He was strong(er) now, so he did not have to stay here and continue being yelled at by hobos too stupid to live.

Ty smirked as he listened; this brat just didn't have a clue, did he? He waited for the boy to finish, noticing a few things about the lad's attire. None of it was cheap.Now, it was still highly against his moral code to rob women and children, but...well, there was a little bit of flexibility, he saw. As the boy turned to leave, the movement was very quick and effortless, nimbly removing a glove and snatching the phone from around the boy's neck.

As soon as his palm touched the phone, his eyes glowed red, writing a few things on the phone just to be show the kid what kind of person Ty really could be, deep down.

-Several quick vignettes would flash in front of Panu's face once he touched the phone. Images of a few of Ty's favorite picked pockets and heists, a murder here and there, but intentionally, there were several shots featuring him and Tses over the years. Though there were sweet and /ahem/ intimate moments, a good deal of it was things blowing up. Then...it got kind of scrambled and blurry, mostly showing him running, a pool of blood, an angry woman, and him fleeing.-

"Hey kid! You might want this back," he called, holding it out to him.

But as he did, his other power kicked in, and he began to see the entire history of the object in his hand...

The hobo did not say anything, which was fine. Panu had met him once and now did not ever need to meet him again. If he died a horrible death and was torn limb from limb and maybe eaten (what did Jaager do with the bodies?), then it was not Panu's fault. It had never been Panu's fault. The only thing that was Panu's fault was talking to a hobo--

--who was stealing the phone right off his neck--

There was no lag time between the hobo hand closing around his phone and the blonde boy noticing. Probably it would be the same if someone went up to a normal person with a spoon and started taking their eyeballs.

The eight year old scrambled after his phone blindly, in a very literal sense. The man's dirty hobo fingers were over the camera lens and he could not see, and he carried backup eyes of course he did he always did but they were in his hoodie back at the house because New York was stupid and hot and hobos were stupid and he was stupid--

A small Finnish boy was soon latched onto the man's arm, his blue eyes wide and unfocused, clinging as if his life depended on it. He could tell where the phone was located relative to himself. That was the only way he even knew where the man was. It was the only thing he could really sense in this park.

"Antakaa se takaisin, antakaa se takaisin, antakaa se takaisin--"

Tauntingly, like the evil bad stupid man who should die in a fire that he was, the man said he might want his phone back. The boy did not hesitate to grab it, feeling out its position with both hands and then gripping it as tightly as he could.

This was when he should turn and not walk away but run. But this was when the vision kicked in, the strange vision that was not like one of his own memory replays, and he was frozen and watching, not running at all.

Stupid petty crimes and deaths he did not mean and sex scenes and someone chasing him because he was just as weak as Panu had thought.

This is what the boy saw.

What the man saw was this:

The eight year old straightened his headphones and his hoodie (he was nervous, but nervous was weak, so he would not show it), and then went into the skyscraper. He scheduled himself into Ambrose Jaager's day and met the man in his conference room. He held the man's company ransom, its computers and data and research, and he told this to the man's face. Jaager threatened to kill the eight year old (relief, this is how adults should act, he knew how to respond to this). From there their relationship progressed rather nicely. He was inducted into Ragnarok. He was living at the man's mansion. (He was safe again, Jaager was scary enough and strong enough and powerful enough to protect him, as long as he was useful enough to warrant protecting.)

The memories came from multiple angles--from ceilings and walls and phones. Never from the boy's own eyes.

Panu wrapped his arms around the phone so the man could not take it again, and backed away. He was shaking. He took in quick deep breaths and made himself stop, shaking was stupid and it never helped anything. He straightened up, though he kept one foot back, weight poised to run.

"You are stupid, stupid mutantti. If you are thinking you are scaring me with little pictures of self-defense and daddy issues, you are talking to wrong boy. I am swan of Tuonela. I am raven of Ragnarok. I am sea of blood and you are stupid little paper boat floating in waters."

He was still shaking, why could he not stop shaking, stupid psychics he did not need anyone in his head, he did not need more deaths in his files--

Panu was scared.

Ambrose did not like that.

He remembered the twinge of panic - foreign, horrible panic - he'd felt when Madeline had patched into his comm and told him, very calmly, that Panu was absolutely terrified right now. She'd tracked the signal from the cameraphone he used to see and had located him outside of Ambrose's estate, in a nearby park. Ambrose didn't like that, either - Panu was supposed to be in his estate, he'd left Panu in the building safe with a virtual arsenal of remotely controlled weapons and he would be able to protect himself so why was he outside and in danger and scared -

Ambrose tried to tell himself, in his head, that he was worried for Panu because the child was crucial to Ragnarok's success. He needed the boy. But even though he knew that wasn't it, that didn't stop him from trying to convince himself of it. They were going to Finland in two days, after all, to do nothing but destroy files and people to protect Panu. He wouldn't have done that for any other minion.

He would tear apart whoever had made Panu scared.

He was flying as fast as he could, the wind whistling past him, and Ambrose could faintly feel the blood splattered over his scales getting clammy in the wind. He'd been at a maximum-security jail, thankfully close by to his estate, selectively killing pre-picked inmates who he believed deserved to die. The rational way of seeing it was that if their deaths would prevent the deaths of others, than they deserved to die. Killing whoever had scared Panu was not rational. He didn't care.

Finally, thankfully, Ambrose neared the park where Panu's signal had been. He could see one small white figure and one larger one, and he snarled at the clearly older man, diving at the ground. Landing a bit away from the two, he was easily audible before he could be seen, as the ground rumbled a bit from his heavy landing and he toppled a few trees when he crashed into them. Then he very deliberately made his way over to where he could see Panu's heat signature, stepping towards the child and whoever it was that was threatening him. His bad leg throbbed from the overly aggressive landing, but he didn't care - if he didn't see in monochrome, he'd have been literally seeing red. Pushing Panu ever-so-gently back with one massive, clawed paw, he inserted himself very deftly between Panu and his attacker.

"Are you hurt?" was the first thing he said under his breath, swinging his head near Panu. He couldn't smell blood on Panu, but his scent was somewhat muddled by the fact that his scales, very clearly drenched in blood, were reeking and covering up all the smells in the area. Panu knew, Ambrose was sure, that his eyesight only saw heat signatures and nothing else in this form, and would understand. But now the man who had threatened Panu, and Ambrose was sure it was a man, from the outline of the heat signature.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't tear you apart, here and now," Ambrose snarled, blood coating his muzzle and the fangs that showed as he spoke. "Be grateful I'm even giving you a chance to defend yourself. I've already killed sixty-eight people tonight; one more is no matter."

Things...went south very quickly. What Ty intended to be his version of a picture book lesson for children turned into Camelot in the park. He quickly slipped his gloves back on, knowing it would be futile to pull out the knife in his pants pocket, but it felt good just to hold on to it while still keeping it concealed.

"Whoa, ****! I didn't know the phone was that important or I would've asked first." He tried to keep calm, even when the dragon stepped in. Though oddly enough, he didn't seem too surprised that there was a freaking dragon in his midst. At this point, nothing really surprised him anymore.

"Well, for one, the writers wouldn't like that very much," he started, keeping his eye on the newcomer as he spoke. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone; the kid wasn't listening, so I tried to use my...abilities...to show him. But as you see, that went to hell very quickly." Ty decided to keep quiet what he'd seen from the phone, as at the moment, it seemed like the sort of thing that would put another nail in his coffin.

"Look, I just blew back into town, looking into getting settled again. Once I get myself planted somewhere, I'll get the kid an ice cream truck to make up for it. Fully loaded." For the first time, he shifted his gaze to the boy. "That'd be cool, right?"

Although deep down, Ty somewhat wished he'd stayed in Kansas a bit longer...

Mr. Jaager swooped down from the sky like a fearsome clawed demon, the kind that you sell your soul to and then it helps you. (This was the best kind.) He was large and black and covered in more blood than one human body could make. As the smell of copper filled the little park, Panu's shoulders relaxed. He did not have to clutch his phone so tightly now. It was easy to stop shaking with his employer here.

"I am not hurt," the blonde boy replied, with quiet politeness. "Thank you."

He wanted to stand very close--maybe touching the big dragon's side--but he had been taught better than to get in the way if there was maybe going to be a fight (or a slaughter). Children who did not learn this were stupid and deserved to be hurt by their own team. He stood behind the dragon's arm, but not so close that he would be hit if Jaager moved suddenly.

Panu did not think that the red-headed man had met many people who said give me one reason and meant it. It was hard for the Fin to follow the hobo's answer--something about a writers? probably this was a cultural reference, Panu did not get American culture--but he thought it was a lot of noise without anything in the noise. Just words and no reasons.

People who meant it meant it, and if your reason was not good, you did not get to talk more. You were only dead and quiet. Mr. Jaager meant the things he said. Soon there would be many pieces of hobo littering the park's trees, unless someone smarter answered for him.

"He is mutant," the boy said softly. "Maybe useful. He did something with memories, he put things he had done into my head. Also he has killed people. Maybe we take him home? He is running from someone, so it is maybe easy to buy him."

These were the young hobo's selling points, as far as Panu thought Jaager would be concerned: he was desperate, useful, and a killer.

"We can always take pieces off later if he is stupid," the boy added, just in case the dragon was not sold.

It was okay if Jaager killed the man in front of him. Panu did not have to watch or listen, he could turn off his AV feeds and wait. But it was maybe better if he did not. The Fin did not believe the ginger about the ice cream truck, but he did believe him about the phone.

Ambrose growled. The man was patronizing Panu now, offering him stupid things like an ice cream truck. He could buy Panu an ice cream truck, but who needed an ice cream truck when they had access to hundreds of remotely-controlled drones and one of the most sophisticated networks in the city? (Ambrose had specifically ordered his underlings to upgrade it to the point of insanity. He told himself it was to improve Panu's efficiency, but it was really just a reward for Panu giving Ambrose all of Faust's cure trial data.)

But wait. Panu didn't seem to want to hurt him. That was... frighteningly rational, to be honest. It seemed as if Panu had gotten a firsthand demonstration of the strange mutant's powers, and that was what scared him, and the practical response was to take advantage of the new asset. Ambrose wasn't thinking rationally right now, though.

"Hij probeerde je te bedreigen," Ambrose said, in Dutch. He tried to threaten you. He knew that Panu would be able to translate but the man would not, which was why he had switched languages. "Er is geen belofte dat hij veilig zou zijn. Als hij is met u en ik iets te doen, kon hij je aanvallen, en zelfs als ik scheurde hem uit elkaar zou het te laat zijn. Hij kon werken voor Faust, voor alles wat we weten." There is no promise that he would be safe. If he is with you and I am out doing something, he could attack you, and even if I tore him apart it would be too late. He could be working for Faust, for all we know. The only part of all that the man would've been able to comprehend was a single name - Faust - but Ambrose didn't think he would recognize it. Even though he understand that, rationally, it would be so simple to just verify who the man was and take him in, he had scared Panu (and ruined a perfect good night for Ambrose, but somehow that fell to second in terms of importance), and that was not something Ambrose would easily accept and forgive him for.

[OOC: Translation courtesy of Google translate. If there are any native Dutch speakers reading this, I am so, so sorry.]

The redhead was starting to relax. Well, as much as one could, given the circumstances. To the naked eye, it would seem that Ty was an idiot and didn't know that he was in danger. But in reality, Ty was almost always in danger, so most things didn't really phase him.

When the dragon started speaking...Dragon-speak? Who knows, Ty sort of started going off in a daze, daydreaming a bit, losing his focus. Until, that is, he heard the name 'Faust.'At this, all the color drained from his face.

"Faust..." he cut in, his voice stammering. "If you're working for...her...I'm already dead anyway." He tried to steady his breath. This is it...all that training for nothing...

He held his hands by his side, staring into the night. Usually, he would have fought. But at this point, why? He was weak...and he knew it...

Panu registered the language shift as a change in his translation settings, nothing more. Dutch was no different to him than English--they were both gibberish languages, if he listened to them with his ears and not his internet. But at least the Dutch knew how to pronounce their j's correctly.

"<He tried to threaten me like a little dog barking.>" In all the murders the young man had put in Panu's head, none of them had been just for fun. Self-defense and fear and revenge, but never murder for murder's sake. "<It was startling but not very scary.>"

The scary part was the thought of losing his phone in the middle of all this grass and trees and stupid non-internet-connected park lamps. He would have been blind and stupid until he could feel his way back to civilization. He was not leaving his hoodie behind again, ever again, never.

Jaager's concern was justified, though. If Panu was hurt or dead, then he would lose his technopath. The man seemed very worried about this. The Fin felt warmth building inside of him again. Not warmth like standing next to a steaming Victor, but warmth like when he had sat next to Charlotte in the park. It was good that Mr. Jaager thought he was so useful. It meant he was valuable to the man.

Probably that would make it harder for the hobo to live. Panu did not want to seem like he was arguing--or worse, that he was trying to spare the man's life out of mercy--but he tried one more time to stop the ginger from being ripped apart.

"<Maybe you could just break an arm? Then he knows you are serious and that he will die if he tries anything you do not like.>"

Panu hoped this was a reasonable compromise.

The young redhead's face was going very pale. Maybe he spoke Dutch. When he spoke, though, Panu's translator shifted back to English.

The words that came out of his mouth were hilarious. A bright, childish burst of laughter escaped the little Fin before he could stop himself. He clapped a hand over his mouth and turned very red and stood very still in case Jaager was the kind of adult who did not like laughing children next to his ear.

"I do not work for Faust. I work for Mr. Jörmungandr and he works for himself. We are breaking Faust for fun. Soon we own her company and put her on street. It is my summer project."

”<He tried to threaten me like a little dog barking.>” The corner of Ambrose’s mouth turned up in a cruel smirk at that. ”<It was startling but not very scary.>” So this sad excuse for a mutant had tried to play a prank on Panu, it seemed, by using Panu’s form as some sort of psychic conduit? That was the impression he was getting of the situation. ”<Maybe you could just break an arm? Then he knows you are serious and that he will die if he tries anything you do not like.>” He quite liked that idea, to tell the truth. Now that he’d calmed a bit, he was starting to see the inherent strategic advantage in recruiting a mutant with some sort of memory manipulation ability who could startle enemies. A perfect distraction, one might say.

What he said next did nothing to improve Ambrose’s opinion that he was nothing more than disposable.

”Faust… If you’re working for… her… I’m already dead anyway.”

Panu laughed, high and sharp, and immediately moved to stifle the sound in embarrassment. It didn’t bother Ambrose, though, considering he’d let out a snort of laughter as well. And when Panu spoke again, it was cold and assertive, back to his useful self.

For some impossible reason, Ambrose couldn’t help but feel that he’d like to make Panu laugh again.

”I do not work for Faust. I work for Mr. Jörmungandr and he works for himself. We are breaking Faust for fun. Soon we own her company and put her on street. It is my summer project.”

”He’s right," Ambrose rumbled, still chuckling at the boy’s almost absurd patheticness. ”Faust is nothing to us. Muninn is taking her company down for fun." He glanced over to the boy almost admirably, if not affectionately. At least emotions were nigh-impossible to determine when he wasn’t in his human form. He switched to Dutch again, briefly, so the man would not understand. "Ik zal zijn arm later breken als hij het niet verwacht, dus hij begrijpt wie we zijn. Ik laat hem bij ons, want nu - hij zal doen als een afleiding, of dingen die we niet willen doen verwerken.” I will break his arm later when he does not expect it, so he understands who we are. I will let him join us, for now - he will do as a distraction, or to handle things we do not wish to do. Then back to English. ”Be glad you amuse me, ever so slightly. Have you heard of Ragnarok?” Of course he had - he’d have to be living under a rock in order not to. Even if not, Ragnarok was about to break into the global scene soon, once Muninn and Jörmundandr had their fun in Finland.

Ty thoughtfully bit his lip as he listened. "She's weakened, eh? Guess I couldn't have picked a better time to come back, then," he murmured, mostly to himself.

Amused. Ty amused a lot of people in his day, and it rarely ended with a mutually happy ending. "That's often my first impression on people, yes," Ty replied, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Maybe it'd be to his advantage if he never lost that first impression, even once he achieved his goal. He never wanted to be one of those who looked the part of having a lot of power or authority. It was good to remain...non-threatening in appearance.

"Ragnarok?" At this, Ty unwillingly perked up, his love of mythology showing. "In Norse Mythology, Ragnarok is the end of the world. An end in which even the deities and powers that be themselves meet their end. I'm going out on a limb here and guessing you're up to something very similar to or symbolic of this, or you'd like to spend the rest of the evening discussing mythology. As much as the latter would intrigue me, I'm thinking closer to the former, yes?"

Maybe the 'hobo' wasn't as dumb as he first appeared.

"<Yes, Sir.>" The Fin agreed, on the topic of breaking arms later. Later was probably good--it was easier to hide a screaming man in Jaager's house than in a public park. Panu was more used to pain being given out right on the spot, like rubbing a puppy's nose in its mess, but Jaager had different approaches to these things and Jaager was still alive so that meant Jaager was probably right.

The blonde boy did not comment as the young man spoke. Now that Jaager was here, it was better that he was in the background, and did not interrupt. Also he was not sure if he liked this redheaded man. He admitted he was weak and looked like he was weak while he admitted it. It reminded the Fin of a rabbit with a bleeding leg. Maybe it could still run or kick, and maybe it would heal just fine and live. But if the smell of blood was strong in the air, many things might be attracted.

Like a dragon, for example.

The young man was still talking an awful lot. Still scared of the EMP lady, more than he was scared of Jaager. It was always better to be more afraid of the person who was right in front of you. If you survived them, then you would live to be scared of other people again.

Panu was very, very worried that the redhead did not understand how close he had come to dying. And that made him very very very very very very very (very) dumb. So dumb that maybe he did not realize he had been saved by an eight-year-old, either. This was not something for any man to be proud of.

The blonde boy hung his phone back around his neck, and let his organic eyes point towards the ground. But he watched still, through his real eye. The redhead was his new brother in Ragnarok. Probably he would need more protecting, so his mouth did not get him killed.