Summary:Brunnhilde stumbles upon Carol and America, roaring drunk. They decide to try to help. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
   |
Carol is currently sitting on a park bench, a cup of coffee cradled in her hands as she sips her drink quietly. Between all the things going on with the Avengers and herself, she's taking a bit of a break. A jazz band is currently playing on the nearby stage, and while Carol isn't actually watching them, she is smiling as she listens to the faint strains of music in the air.
"I know you're taking a break but can we make an exception for the best?" America's there now. She might have just walked up, but if so she did it very carefully. She doesn't usually fly about in public, but her ability to just wander in at an appropriate time might be a bit uncanny. Like she knew where Carol would likely go. "Music is nice. …Mind if I take a seat?"
Carol blinks, then laughs a little, "Sure, America… have a seat. I'd offer coffee, but well… this one is mine." She grins, as that seems to be a multiversal constant of Carol Danvers anywhere.
Do Not Get Between Her And Coffee.
Then Carol tilts her head, looking over at America, "How have you been?"
"You know. Same as always. Blocking bullets with my face. Saving the world. Looking great doing it. You know how it is." Carol gets the upnod of shared experience and then the Latina teen slides down on to the bench beside her. America takes a deep breath and holds it for a second. She's wearing her blue denim jacket with the red and white paneled shoulders, and a blue t-shirt with a white star. This paired off against very short cut-off jeans, bare legs, and red white and blue converses.
"How about you? Pretty stressed?"
Carol rolls her eyes, "Well, between these magic creeps kidnapping kids, gods fighting in the streets, and Thor deciding to do some accidental remodeling of his room at the Mansion… which wrecked my wall, yeah, a little bit." She grins wryly, "Nothing I haven't been able to handle, though. And well, it's nice to have my own apartment for when I don't want to be at the mansion. Sometimes it's good to clear the head, you know?"
"Yeah, I know." America is often pretty close-lipped and wanders off on her own frequently. She crosses her legs and leans way back, turning her brown eyes up toward hte sky. "You look pretty good, though. Despite everything." She lets that settle in, content on studying thesky above and sharing her companion's presence for a long moment. Finally, America asks, "Any other plans tonight? Sounds like you won't be visiting the mansion, at least."
Carol grins, "Gonna probably do a bit of a patrol later, just fly a few laps around the Greater New York area. Maybe zip to Boston for some real clam chowder, not what these people think it is." She chuckles a bit, "Honestly, I guess spending ten years at near-lightspeed keeps you young, so Einstein's theory of looking good confirmed." That plus the cosmic energy, no doubt.
America says, "You still look like you're twenty," America agrees, shrugging slowly. "Which probably works for you. And you're glowing, so…" She closes her eyes for a second, letting the pun hang in there. "WHen are you planning on taking another flight like that?" She asks then, tilting her head slightly as she does. "Just going out and- seeing the stars, I mean. Something outside of NYC and… Clams.""
Carol chuckles, "Not sure… I mean, I've been gone for a decade, but I wouldn't mind just doing a short flight around the solar system." She grins over at America, "Ever get a close-up view of Saturn's rings? It's pretty awesome."
"You should show me," America suggests, turning slightly to meet Carols' eyes. "That sounds like it could be interesting. Maybe I can grab a bit of space dust."
Carol grins, "Well, I guess I should ask, how do you handle space. I mean, I know you can fly pretty fast, obviously, but… well, that doesn't exactly mean you can go into space without a suit." She shrugs, "I mean, I don't need one, but it is convenient."
"I can handle space fine. We're good," America assures Carol then, with a measured shrug. "Don't worry, I'll keep up with you, sparkler." There's a wry grin and America finally turns to fully face Carol now. "I've never actually worn a suit," she admits then.
Carol chuckles, "Nice. Well, I never knew I didn't need one, so…" She finishes the coffee and tosses the cup in the recycler, "Old habits die hard, though. When did you want to go? Though, it can be a bit of a trip." Even at light speed, space is big.
"We'll have to plan it out around your schedule. Shouldn't be too bad if we just go around the solar system though, right?" Yes, America is at least asking Carol her opinion of the arrangement.
The two women are currently seated on a bench, talking away. America is staring up at the sky overhead, lounging in a relaxed way. So, typical Chaves, really.
Carol chuckles, "Oh no, we can do it easy enough, it's definitely going to take some time though. Not too long, but still." She shrugs a little, chatting amiably with America on the bench, looking pretty at ease for the moment. The faint strains of a jazz concert can be heard from the not-too-far stage.
"Fair enough." America lcloses her eyes for a second, listening. "You know, I never really 'got' Jazz. The beats always sound wrong. I'm not sure if that's the point or what."
There is in fact an alternative. In that there is distant, but coming closer, music of a different sort. Mostly of the off key acapella variety, approaching down the pathway, sung lustily and in another language entirely. Irish? But definitely of the drinking song variety.
Carol blinks a little as she hears the singing, then looks sidelong at America, "So, ah… I don't think I mentioned everyone that I know…" She would recognize that off-key voice anywhere, really, as she looks around, trying to see where the source of the music is approaching from.
"…Brunnhilde?" America blinks, then looks up slowly, her eyes travcking the source of that singing. "Well, that's - interesting, set to Jazz. Tell me you brought booze for her." She's squinting, watching for the Valkyrie's approach despite her professed concerns. There's even a hint of amusement in it. "You know her too, hm?"
It's certainly a valkyrie. Dressed in cut off just short of the pockets poking out, and a sleeveless Motorhead top, the sleeves having been ripped off. Also motorcycle boots, her hair a bit bed-mussed. For her accessory of choice today, she has an entire carboy that she has a finger hooked through the ring on it, resting it on her chest as she walks along…at least 6-7 gallons of whatever happens to be inside of it. Hard to say, since there's a nice, if slightly battered woven green exterior covering the glass.
There's currently a New YOrk officer pacing her on horseback, perhaps thirty paces back.
Carol gets a bit of a rueful look, "Oh, I know her, yeah." She waves over towards Brunnhilde, lighting up a bit subconsciously as she does so, then looks back at America, "Besides, I don't get booze. You know that, right?"
"It was just wishful thinking," America replies with a sigh. She straightens slightly then, eyeing the Valkyrie as she continues to approach. "Oy, Hilde," she'll call then. "Did you break something again?" The officer gets a wary look. he probably has a /reason/ for following, after all. Still, America raises a hand in greeting. Despite everything, she's loosening up as Brunnhilde approaches as well.
Hilde is managing to maintain a generally staright line, with only a slightly sway back and forth from time to time….but yes. She's well into inebriated. Meaning she's probably downed at least one carboy before the one she's holding to actually have achieved that level of buzz. She blinks a bit as she sees the motion, turning her head towards the wave, then beaming as she changes course. Or tries to, as she ends up tripping herself as she crosses one foot over the other, going face first into the ground. Then hops back up, holding out her hand. "M'okay! S'fine!" she says cheerfully, tottering over.
UP closer, the reason why the horse patrol is following her might become clear…she smells strongly of someone who may have taken a header into a large container of hard cider. Luckily black goes with everything AND hides stains, generally, but…well. She wobbles the last few steps, then starts to turn to sit, aiming for between the two. She's a bit off however as she ends up landing on America's lap instead, blinking a bit, then grinning. "Hiiiiii…."
The officer trots up closer, then stops, eyeing the trio. "Do you two know her?" he says, a disapproving tone in his voice. Probably something about open alcohol containers in the park and such.
Carol nods, "Oh yes, we do. We'll get her home, don't worry." She looks wryly at America who was the point of impact, then shakes her head a little, "Sorry officer, but yes, we'll take care of her." The look she gives Brunnhilde at this point is equal measures of affection and exasperation.
Of course, she was teammates with Hercules…
Sighing, America moves to catch the falling Hilde and ends up with her arms around the Valkyrie as she lands. The Latina shakes her head slowly and then takes a deep breath. "Yeah. We've got this, officer. DOn't worry." The long suffering sigh seems to be convincing, at least. Even if America hugs Brunnhilde rather than just shoving her away. "So. Sounds like we should probably escape from the park and go someplace with less… everything. Hilde, how drunk *are* you? I didn't know you could get drunk on human cider."
Hilde phsssssh! Loudly! ""m not drunk. I's just a keg. Or three. Gave me a carboy for th' road…" she points out. Leaning into America as she's hugged as she huffs out. Yeeeeeah. Definitely brewery breath combined with morning breath. "'S fine!" She waves the carboy around, as it sloshes, then pauses to take a long series of swallows from the oversized container, then mmms and rests her cheek against America. Before belching, though she at least turns her head away from the other woman when she does. Towards Carol, so she can get he full effect too.
The officer frowns. "It'd be better if you could get her sobered up, please." he says simply, with a long suffering look. "I'd arrest her for the drunk tank, but that went poorly last time."
Carol sighs deeply, "Well, we'll do our best. America, you got her? Let's get her back to my place so she can sleep this off. And I can get some coffee started right away." She shakes her head a little, and gives an apologetic look to the officer, "And yeah, this is probably best. My apologies."
"…Yeah, I got her." America wrinkles her nose and then stands up from the bench. Despite being smaller than Brunnhilde by a fair amount (and the weight of Asgardians in general) she has no trouble standing. At least initially. Brunnhilde will have to cooperate, of course. "Lead the way," she'll call to Carol. "Hilde, you just… Put your chin on my shoulder, maybe."
Brunnhilde makes a faint noise as she's scooped up but doesn't resist, instead taking another long drink from the carboy. "Mmm? I'll be fiiiine, 'ish barely…barely baby's milk…." she notes, her nose wrinkling a bit as she squirms but but rests her chead against the shoulder in question. "Mmprhphle." she adds, a bit unclearly. "Mmm…your place?" she says to Carol grinning, then squint at her. "Oh…mmm…" She eyes the carboy, then just…heaves it. Like baseball style as it goes sailing out over the trees in a home run drive. "There! No booze…inna Carol house…" she says proudly.
The officer just…stares, then rubs his face. "Just…just get her out of the park, please." he says, gritting his teeth a bit as he listens for signs that the carboy may have actually hit anything important.
Carol blinks and suddenly flies off, which… well, good thing her identity is public anyway, as she snatches the carboy before it hits anything important. Then, while she's up, she throws it even higher and then hits it with a full strength photon blast, vaporizing it with emphasis.
Alas, poor carboy, it died as it lived, full of booze.
"Okay, there we go. The sparkly one has taken care of the boozze. Okay. Let's get you home, okay?" America shoulders Brunnhilde with just a hint of effort. She wobbles very slightly as she walks. Apparently, she already knows hte way to Carol's apartment. "That was a good throw, though. Full marks."
The officer blinks at the distant explosion, then sighs. 'Right. Thanks for your cooperation, ladies." he says, nodding politely before continuing on patrol.
Brunnhilde grumbles. "I wish I could zap things like that…all sorts of people I'd zap. And things." She pauses. "People who deserve it, I mean." she clarifies, closing her eyes as she leans against America. "Mmm…." And it's not too far to CArol's place, and Brunnhilde seems to be willing to be a patient passenger as she's carried along. Though she talks. "Sparkly one…" She laughs softly, almost a drunken giggle. "So sparkly. She's like..that star song, with th' twinkles…' She mmms, swallowing as she rubs her cheek against America's shoulder. "Yer sparkly too…so sparkles…MIss Sparkles…"
Carol flies down to the balcony of her apartment, unlocking the door there and opening it for America to get Valkyrie inside. She might be sparkly right now, but she's not terribly pleased, leaning on the doorframe for the other two to show up as she takes a deep breath.
"No, I don't sparkle," America objects. "I glow." She'll exchange a glance with Carol as she carries Valkyrie through the door and into the apartment. Then she's casting around for a place to put the Valkyrie, an eyebrow arched as she studies the room. America too takes a deep breath. "So."
"Sparkle sparkle…" Brunnhilde insists, poking Carol in the chest as they go past, then starts to squirm now that they've arrived. "CAlled her sparkles, alla time too. Called her that. Mardoll…like the sea at dawn…" she murmurs. "Shining, always shining and sparkles…" Her eyes blink rapidly for a moment. "And she shot me. I thought she was…and she shot me…shot him…me an' him…." Her eyes overflow as a tear escapes. "I called them /sister/, and they, they, they…." And there's another as America abruptly has a ex-valkyrie letting out little huffs of air, as if she's trying to hold her breath, or at least prevent any sounds from escaping. "They killed….all of them…none of them stood by me…."
Carol blinks, and hugs Brunnhilde, "Come on, let's get you into bed, okay? We'll both stand by you here, okay?" With that, she takes over the supporting of Brunnhilde, actually scooping her up if she allows it, taking her to the bedroom. She glances over her shoulder at America, "Got a guest room and a couch, but she can crash in the main bedroom. It'll be fine."