2019-06-04 - Convalescence

Summary:

Loki pays a visit to a hiding Hod

Log Info:

Storyteller: {$storyteller}
Date: 6/4/2019
Location: {$location}

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lokihod

Hod's Bronx basement apartment isn't actually /his/ at the moment. He's lending it to a friend. She /just/ got moved in and BAM, now he's sprawled out in the place bleeding on stuff. To be fair, there isn't a lot of stuff to bleed on frankly. It's a spartan dwelling all things considered, but expensively decorated none the less. Lots of modern stylings, straight clean lines, little flare, basic simple colorings. The counters are concrete, the floors are concrete, the walls are concrete, the wood trim and furniture is not veneered but solid and expensive with simple finishes to make the grains pop. There are no lights in the place, nor is there central heating or air, or windows really. Just a door that leads into a larger room that's open and free to walk around in. A single turn table, a collection of old vinyl records, a single comfortable but very square styled chair to sit in across from a matching sofa, and a thick but soft grayish blue rug on the floor. The kitchen is much of the same, clean, simple, lackluster. Wood on concrete motif is basically everywhere. As is the dark and the chill. And when one says dark, one means that this apartment is underground without windows and has no lights in it kinda dark. Like… Dark. Currently sitting in the square chair is Hod, wrapped up half like a mummy, breathing shallow even breaths, and listening to the extremely good sound quality in the room reflecting back to him the sounds of Gustav Holst's Mars Bringer of War.

Mars is so lucky. He and Jupiter…and the general personification of Spring get all the great stuff. The songs that have been dedicated to Loki over the years are far less classical and entirely raunchy. He never listens to them. Loki appears amidst the pounding 5/4 meter, though the godling seems highly concerned upon his arrival, since he can't see. He couldn't even really see in the scry. Instantly, he flicks a bit of gold light across one hand and arm, trying to get his bearings and find out where the fuck this is. The Underworld probably sounds like this. "Hod?"

"Why does everyone insist on bringing light into my home?" Hod ponders aloud, "I don't walk around bringing darkness into the homes of those I visit. I mean I /could/ of course, but it feels like it would be a dick move. Just, 'hey, heres this thing that I'm comfortable with but you are not, have a bunch of it' and then flump. Darkness." he sighs, "Over here brother." frankly, he sounds like shit, even his snarkiness doesn't have it's usual sincerety and bite. "There's a couch somewhere over there," he flicks a finger in the direction of said furniture, "feel free to grace it with your backside. If you want a drink, pick a cabinet, I'm well stocked. In fact, share. I find mixing these medications with alcohol has delightful effects."

Having given up on his usual sunglasses, Hod's face is simply wrapped in a gray cloth, much as it was long ago when Loki saw him on a regular basis, hiding the holes where his eyes should be from the sight of others. He's wearing a black button down and light gray linen lounging pants, loose and flowing. The chill and the dark clearly borther him not in the least. The shirt and hte pants both show odd lumps and lines where bandages currently reside beneath them while his face is half purplish and black with a line of stapled flesh disapearing up into his scalp line somewhere.

"You can have your darkness once I have a seat. And also…it was so dark in my scrying that I thought you might actually be being held prisoner again somehow." He gets a general look around the place, finds his way near, then sits down and puts the light out. "Happy now, grump? Also…do you have a /girlfriend/?"

It's a fair question. There's a single lightbulb int he light overhead, a thing Hod would never own because why would he, and the place smells like… like girlie scent stuff. Hod's homes never smell like much, with his nose he's careful of that, lots of crisp icey winds and cool stone usually, but this place smells like 'human girl needed a smelly thing in here so now there is one live with it' scent. Likely something with a flower in it's name. Speaking of, there are also flowers on the counter top. They're going to die very quickly in this dark hole, but they are there, currently fresh and colorful and in what appears to be more a tom colins glass then a vase.

"I have a few." he says in a dry tone that clearly suggests the idea is ridiculous, "Honestly brother I don't know what's going on but I seem to be collecting mortal girls into a sort of pseudo-meta human like unit bent on protecting me?" he shakes his head, "Father would be proud, I'm falling bass ackwards into my own Valkyrior of a sort."

"So, you are saying that you have what would practically be a harem…and I cannot get one person." Loki smiles with amusement, but its easily heard in his tone as well. "It is a refreshing change. So…have you any idea who was after you? The men were clearly not the Tuatha…but that does not rule them out."

Hod snorts, "I've been married a few times brother, you were an uncle during a couple of those, short lived as it was." his words sort of fade away where and was dark somehow becomes Darker still for a moment. Just a moment. "They're like children. Well intentioned, powerful, children. Honestly?" he says, "I'm growing fond of the lot of them and it's leaving me worried. I don't do well with connections to mortals, never have, but I can never…" his words trail off and Loki can hear him making some motion with his hand, as if Loki could see it. "shake them." he finishes lamely.

He lets out a slow breath, "I found the man who set me up for the murder of Thoth's priestess. He's a get of a Jotun, some half breed wannabe magician of mediocre skill and grand delusions of granduer. He worked for someone called the Envoy, presumably a woman Jotun of unknown name or description beyond 'hooded robe'." he snorts, then grunts from the pain of the action, "Cliche-Mart musta been running a sale." he lets out a hiss of breath through his teeth, regaining control of himself, "I suspect the Tuatha may not be major players in this, merely opportunists. I have seen evidence our true enemy is-" he stops, "Brother. Please bring back the light. I am not the only thing which has a claim to the darkness and it's best not spoken in the shadows."

The light is not bright, not like if he turned on the switch, but the golden light does outline him again, shunning the deepest shadows away from the immediate area. "They are drawn to your vulnerability." Loki says softly, "And you should be cautious…for some of them are not simply mortal. You may indeed meet your match."

Hod just sort of nods his agreement with Loki, "Funny. Vulnerability never got me anything but beatings before. This Age of man is the oddest I have bared witness to yet." he admits freely. Then he sighs and gets back to the point, "I have a peice of one of the foe's minons and it /reeks/ of the Ogdru Jahad brother." Hod's words sort of flicker with just a bare hint of fear. The Elder Ones are not a power to be fucked with. /Odin/ doesn't chose to fuck with them if he can avoid it at all, a depowered diet god has drawn their ire somehow and frankly that doesn't spell longevity for the god of Winter.

Loki leans forwards and squints his eyes. "Ogdru Jahad? You think they are the ones? But…why? I thought the target was Balder. You think its been you all along? No offense, but…with their power, they could have done it by now. There must be something else going on. And these men, they wanted to capture you. They were going to take you somewhere. Perhaps a ritual…perhaps if you are part of the ritual. Are there any of their sort that are locked away?" Loki asks curiously, trying to wrap his mind around the new and concerning information.

Hod shakes his head, "No, I'm not the target." he says before turning as if he were looking away in shame, and this time the darkness moves in to cloak him from view despite Loki's like, as if the shadows themselves were seeking to comfort him, "I was to be their weapon." he says softly. "Baldur /is/ the target, and you know as well as I, only one thing can kill our brother." he doesn't mean mistletoe. "There are things, ways, to make a man do a thing he would never do, and I am more man now then god, Loki. It's why-" he waves a shadowy hand at his shrouded figure, "they send mercenaries after me. Men without an ounce of magic in their souls, men I couldn't sense coming. Men who shot me with hypersonic rounds that travel faster then the sound of the gunshot, to hit a blind man who can dodge bullets if he knows they're coming." that's a bit of a stretch, but he's still pretty quick. "Large enough calibre to kill a normal man, and they shot me three times, enough to take all the fight out of me but still leave me alive." he sighs, "Mostly." his weakness grates on him. Bullets. He was taken out by bullets. BULLETS!!

Loki tightens his jaw, keeping the secret yet, though his eyes cut sideways and watch the shadows envelope his brother sympathetically. Is it necessary to tell him? Loki ponders it some, then finally exhales and decides…its not right now. "You think they would have possessed you…forced your hand? They may try again. I should warn Balder to be cautious of your presence. /For now/. There has to be some way to reason with them…to figure out another path to what they want."

Hod barks a laugh, "Possessed? Coerced? Magiced, scienced? I cannot say. I know a girl who is mortal and can reach into the minds of men and rearraing their thoughts. How far a stretch is it to assume she can also control them like puppets? And if there is one, would there not be more?" he waves a hand as if clearing smoke from around him, banishing the clinging shadows with the motion, shooing them back to their homes.

"I think they seek an apocalypse, and given my current state of being Ragnarok is easier to make happen then say, the Christian anti-christ and a war with Heaven." his cheeks puff a bit as he exhales followed by a wince. "Baldur will not listen to you. We've known this day was inevitable for two and a half millenia and still he seeks me out." Hod sounds petulent, but there's the barest hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips, "Father is a sentient scrotum, but-" and it pains Hod to say it aloud, more then the bullet holes ever will, "maybe he had the right idea. I can go someplace, a few places really, where not even the Ogdru Jahad can find me. They are old, but no one knows the hidden places like me. No one. Maybe… Maybe it's time I exile myself." something about that sentence sounds frightfully permanant. Something in the tone.

"Surely, that is not necessary. I will go to father…tell him that this banishment needs to end…that your strength is needed right now to defend Asgard, especially if he is going to keep Mjolnir away from Thor. At least delay until I get my answer on that." Loki tries to stall for some more time before Hod exiles himself.

Hod chews his bottom lip for a moment, "Father will never listen to you, you know he is the most stubborn creature in the Realms." then he sighs, "I am not entirely powerless. He stripped me of my Aesir herritage, but mother's Vanir blood flows in my veins and he has no power over that. I can still touch the heart of winter, the shadows… not as I once could obviously, but well enough to defend myself a little." he then shoots Loki a predatory grin, "And mock my pseudo Valkyrior all you want, they were formidable enough when I needed them. I will… delay the exile. I can choose that course if needed later. If only to buy you time to think up a way out of this that doesn't land me in a place from which there are no paths /out/." Hey. If anyone can out clever the Elder Gods, it's gonna be Loki, right? "Just do me a favor. If you're gonna betray me this time, gimme a hint so I can brace myself ahead of time. Call it old time sake?"

"This time? I saved your life, by the way…" Loki lifts his chin and his brows, and crosses his arms too. "As long as you are delaying the exile…double exile, I suppose."

Hod leans back a bit, "Yeah. Kumo said something about that. Big beam of light from the sky?" he quirks a brow, "You called the Bifrost, didn't you?" he doesn't wait for an answer, "And let me guess, Hiemdal let you ride up, but he wouldn't let you step out of the antechamber? Just got all stoic and zapped us back down to Midgard instantly… To the hospital." he says, putting those bits together, "Because why would Loki know about a hospital. You don't know what it's like to actually get hurt, you'd never need to know about a trauma ward. The healing room. You tried to take me to the healing room." he says, the last bit softly. He then sort of settles back in his chair, marveling a bit at the sudden realization, and the freakish out of characterness that is a kind deed from Loki.

It goes against everything Hod knows about his family, to trust any of them with anything. Even a little. But this at least he can corroborate, if not completely prove. One can never /completely/ prove Loki is innocent of something. "Well." he says after a long pause. "I'll be fucked." his wrapped sockets turn Loki's direction once more, "Thanks brother. Just…" he falls quiet again, "Thanks." What else was he gonna say? Immortals, being what they are, are patient. And in the following silence, first awkward and then somehow familiar and comfortable, Hod drifts off, the pain meds finally catching up to his natural resistence and taking his mind out from under him. It takes a little while, but not super long, not for them, until his chin rests on his chest and his breathing is heavy and regular. Sleeping alone in a room with Loki. Will miracles never cease?

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