Summary:Brunnhilde heads to a pub to try and drown her problems in booze, and runs into Hellboy and Ares, who end up commiserating with her. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Some might consider the Woodhaven to not exactly be Brunnhilde's scene. The ex-valkyrie is a bit rough compared to the usual clientele, currently perched on a bar stool. She's dressed pretty simply, black leather pants, then a Dorothy band shirt worn up top, tied off over her midriff snugly, with steel-toed motorcycle boots worn on he rfeet as she hooks her heels in the ring at the bottom of the stool. Not exactly high end, perhaps.
On the other hand…the Woodhwaven has one of the most complete alcohol lists in the city…you can find almost /anything/ here.
And Hilde, being a connoisseur of alcohol, has found it to be one of the places she goes when she just doesn't want to care for a bit. Having a major fight after a wouldbe intervention certainly qualifies. She'd find it ironic that her first response after the fight was to go find something to drink. But she's really trying not to think about it.
The neat pyramid of empty shot glasses in front of her turned upside down and the bottle of absinthe that's nearly empty suggests she's definitely putting deep thought into how steadily she'll be able to make it home after this, at least.
Hellboy doesn't usually go out too much into the human bars. He generally sticks to the Oblivion or other places more suited to visibly monstrous clientele. But he'd had a rough extermination in the nearby neighborhood, one that resulted in him pulling a tenement down on his head along with a man made out of cockroaches that may or may not have been demon possessed. Whatever was empowering the little buggers, they were squished now and that was the important part. Still. Gross.
Hellboy's snagged a corner to himself and has put down most of a bottle of Fireball in his own right. He's made an ashtray out of the no smoking sign perched on his table. Nobody's bothered to try and argue with him about it.
He's noticed the big woman who radiates badass. But he's off the clock.
Ares was in his human disguise as John Aaron when he arrives at this bar. He had just gotten off work at his construction job with a good payday, enough to probably blow it all off on shitty human beer. But as the War God looks around, he notices Hellboy snagging a corner by himself…where he looks like a literal sore thumb, Ares is nonplussed by his presence, which may be questionable in and of itself.
But he finds himself next to Brunnhilde as he orders the STRONGEST drink the place has. He wears a white shirt and dirty blue jeans with brown boots. He strokes his beard as he looks at Hilde. "Hey." then his eyes shift over to the big guy in the corner.
It's not like Hilde hasn't noticed Hellboy. He's hard to miss. But in what may be a nice change of pace, she just doesn't seem put off by his looks or the like, treating him like any other resident of the environs. But since he's been here a bit…he's certainly noticed that 1) Brunnhilde has downed a truly staggering and varied amount of acohol (that bottle being the eighth she's on), and 2) she's actually just starting to get a bit tipsy. And a little belligerent, as she moves through the stages of drunkeness to the complaining phase. "And then…and THEN…she said that I'm…that I'm problematic…" Her brow furrows. "…no…that I got a problem….an' I told her, mead is mother's milk to my people…and she just looked at me. All…all…pitying." she spits out to the bartender, who's looking…just a tiny bit intimidated.
And grateful when Ares sits down and distracts Hilde from the one-sided conversation, so he can escape down the bar. "Right away sir!" Yeah, he'll just go find the good stuff…somewhere over there. Yus.
Hilde squints at Ares. "…and what's th' /strongest/ drink you'd have?" she says, knocking back her current glass as she drains it.
Hellboy can understand the urge. He has something of a hard time getting obliterated himself, although not as difficult as it might be. He finishes off his bottle and pushes up from his table, slowly making his way over to the bar, "Think I'll take another. Maybe something to eat. You got horseradish? Roast beef, little rye bread? Maybe a pickle? I bet you like a good pickle," he says, gesturing to Brunnhilde.
Ares he regards with a simple nod, but doesn't have much to say. Why would he? Dude doesn't exactly have a placard reading 'WAR GOD' hanging around his neck. Well, not where Hellboy can see anyhow.
Ares looks at the bartender and notices his look of relief. Though as soon as Hilde asks him what the strongest drink he'd have, he shakes his head. "I don't much care. Probably won't do much to me anyway." Really, only strong drink of Olympian or Asgardian make really have any effect on him in a meaningful way. But he does nod at her. "And what are you drinking?"
Then he looks at Hellboy, still not looking very surprised at his appearance as many others probably would be. "How you doing."
Hilde squints, then looks at the bottle, spinning it around on its bottom idly as it wobbles. "Mmmm…..authentic wormwood absinthe…" she says thoughfully. "Or so it claims." She tilts it back, her throat working as she drains the last third or so suprisingly quickly, before she lets out a little 'pah' of approval, slamming it down on the bar.
Which actually causes the bottle to crack. And the bar a bit, though she doesn't seem to notice.
"BARKEEP! ANOTHER!" she yells, then looks around. "…needs a fireplace. How can you throw down a cup without a fireplace!" she grouses, then peers at Hellboy, then points at him. "I'LL HAVE WHAT THE BIG RED GUY IS HAVING!" she adds, then grins. "Puts horns on your head, from the look of it!"
Hellboy grimaces a little bit. On the one hand, he should probably try to keep her from getting out of hand. Professional duty and all that. On the other hand…he didn't really feel like it. He'd had a long day already and he didn't have any orders. Long as she wasn't ripping any mortal heads off, well…
"Oh, I'm just dandy," he says to Ares. "Kinda not a fan of the horns myself. You don't want 'em, I promise. Hell of a headache. You got any particular reason you're tryin' to pickle your brain like an onion?"
Ares doesn't even react (jumping, looking startled, surprised, etc.) by Hilde's shout and demand as she slams her cup on the bar. But as soon as Ares gets his drink, he starts downing it. "mm…delicious." then he looks at Hellboy. "I wouldn't want Horns. Weigh down the head, makes you unbalanced, and sometimes you can't walk through door frames." jokester. But when asked if he has a reason, he nods. "Plenty."
Then he looks back at Hilde. "You are very loud. I like it." reminds him of strong battle cries. But he seems to ponder for a moment, falling into an intense silence.
The dusky-skinned redhead grins, snickering at Hellboy. "Mmm, they're traditional here! Or so people keep dressing up like they are…" she snorts laughs, waving to the barkeep as he sets down a bottle of Fireball by her. "Those stupid fucking operash…" Her brow furrows as she gets as scowl at the thought. "Stupid. Who fightsh with hornsh? That'sh senshible, filin'…filin' them down…" she says, pointing at Hellboy.
She blinks at Ares a bit. "I AM THE PROPER VOLUME!" she declares, grinning in a flash of white teeth as she pops the cap off the bottle, then just takes a long series of swigs straight from it.
"Mmm, you are very…very…." She searches for the word. "…shwole…" she decides after a moment. Then points to Hellboy. "You are too! An' horny…" She lets out a laugh, then pushes off from her stool, wobbling a bit as her feet hit the floor, casually carrying the bottle. "You should drink over here with ush! I've got a bottle like yoursh now!" she points out, waggling it towards the brawny red hero.
Then squints. "….are you a troll?" she says suddenly. "You look like a troll. Ish th' horns…" She pauses. "An' th' red thing."
Hellboy shakes his head, "Not a troll. Seen a few in my day. Kicked a few of their asses. Nah, I'm just a demon from Hell. Except I didn't grow up there. So I'm weird," he says.
"You are very fucking drunk, which I'm guessin' is probably impressive. Only people who drink like that and stay standing are the types who can handle it. Still…maybe best to get you a seat for now. I ain't gonna try and sober you up, but I do know that gettin' blasted in public and shoutin' at strangers can be a good way of gettin' in trouble. And not the fun kind."
Ares seems to blink as she SHOUTS that she's the right kind of volume as she takes that long swig of her drink. "Drunk is a very kind way of putting it." More like she's very blasted. But, Tomato, Tomahto. "Muscular is probably the word your looking for. I don't understand the slang these days."
Nor does he much care for it.
Then he looks at Hellboy. "Good luck." because uh…Asgardians can be rather fiesty.
Brunnhilde spins around to point at Ares! Or…tries to as she overbalances a little bit, having to take a quick step to the side to keep herself up, moving with a practiced drunk's carefulness now. "YAAASSSS!" she agrees gleefully. "You are…it's…um…" She furrows her brow. "Perpensh…pership…really fucking right!" she notes, grinning big, then looks back to Hellboy. "From Hel? You look all…colorful for tha'…"
She squints. "Or is this th' other hell? There are too many hells…" she grumbles. Another long glug of Fireball as she points at Hellboy. "Heh! I like the asskicking…you look strong…" She peers between the two. "…you both look strong…can you fight too?" she asks Ares, a bit eager…worrisomely so, then thumbs back at Hellboy. "He can fight trollsh…can you fight trollsh?" she says speculatively.
Hellboy opens his mouth in understanding, his craggy face surprisingly expressive, "Oooooooooooh, I see. Yeah. Asgardians like booze and fighting. That explains a lot. Including the trolls."
"I agree about the too many hells. They're all pretty shitty, too, you'd think they'd stop building 'em," he says. "Whether or not he can fight trolls, I don't think we have any at the moment. Closest we've got is those fratboys at the pool table and I'm pretty sure I could break all four of them with just my pinky finger."
"There's a hell for every pantheon, an anti-thesis for every belief, symbolic or otherwise. Just like there's many forms of evil. Many would consider my Uncle Hades to be the devil, even though he's just the God of Darkness and the Underworld." he shrugs lightly. Though he looks at Brunnhilde as she seems to scream 'yas' and questioning Hellboy.
"I can fight. Better than anyone." or so he says with the confidence of War and experience, but hey, he's always been prideful in his own capabilities.
Brunhilde grins. Another swig, and she sets the bottle down on a nearby table. It takes two tries, but she manages it. "I wanna she now…c'mon, just a lil' punch…" She bounces on her toes, bringing up her palms. "C'mon…I wager I will not even feel it!" she boasts.
Then she whirls on Areas as he claims to be the best, slitting he reyes. "…anyooooone….?" she purrs, looking him over. She blinks at the mention of Hades. "What, those wussy Olympiansh?" she says scornfully.
Hellboy takes a step back, holding his hands up, including the massively oversized right hand that promises quite a punch, "I got no beef with you, dollface. I don't hit folks that don't deserve it, generally speakin'," he says. When Ares declares himself the best fighter ever, Hellboy sighs, "You know you're not helping, right?"
Did that dude say 'Uncle Hades'? Great. Just friggin' great.
Ares did say what Hellboy thinks he just said. He keeps his eyes on Brunhilde as she lifts her hands up, but he'll let Hellboy take a swing at the drunken Asgardian. "Go for it, big red. Just try not to hit her too hard. I don't want to call someone to drive her drunken self home."
He downs the rest of his drink. "Another, barkeep." he repeats what Hilde said just moments earlier.
Brunnhilde laughs out loud at that, grinning, her eyes flashing. "It's for fuuuuun!" she wheeldes Hellboy. And notices the hand as it comes up, perking. "…ooh…thash a nice hand…" she says, looking it over, before her hands come back up. "C'mon…hit me…" she challenges, swaying in place. "Mmm, drunk? I'm not drunk…" she insists. "I am…tipsy." Buzzed."
She pauses to snag the bottle on the table, taking another swig, then sets it down. "C'mon…show me your troll punch!"
She snorts at Ares. "I'll drive YOU home…" she mutters. "He'sh not gonna knock nothing nowhere out…"
Hellboy shakes his head, "Told ya pretty clear, I ain't gonna hit you. And you don't wanna get in a scrap with me anyway. I'm, uh, what you call official. I'm a cop. Sorta. You got cops in Asgard? Anyway, if you and me fight, I gotta fill out paperwork and you end up gettin' to be a fugitive or locked up and it's a whole big mess. Plus, I already fought a fraggin' insect-golem down the road and, I gotta tell ya, it kind aleft me a bit dispirited-like."
"C'mon, talk out yer troubles a bit, use yer words."
Ares seems to frown a little bit. "You might as well just hit her already. Or she's going to keep nagging you." Ares looks at Hilde and considers just punching her to get her to stop asking Hellboy to do it. But hey, he'll see if Big Red has the guts despite the fact that he definitely has to do the paperwork for it.
Its one of those weird supernatural organizations thing.
"…you realize you're speaking to a drunk woman right? Reason plays no part in drunken squalor."
For some reason, that seems to hit a button for the tall woman as she draws herself up a bit. "I don't go to Ashgard anymore…cuz Odinsh an asshhhole" she states. Though she looks more sympathetic after that. "Ugh, bug things are the worsht…they squish…" She shivers. "Spidersh…ugh…" She shakes her head, then looks Hellboy over. "…badge or din' happen…" she says after a moment, looking curious now.
At Ares' comment she spins (overspins) to point at him. "I'm not nagging! He said he fought trollsh….an' I'm not a drunken squaw…" she adds, more firmly. The perks, and turns around again. "….armwrestle!" she says, changing her tack now. "Thash not punchin…"
"You're not helpin', pal," he says firmly enough to Ares. He reaches into the pocket of his giant coat with his other hand and draws out a leather wallet, dropping it down to show his WAND identification.
"Mostly just have to keep that so people don't call me in as an anomaly. Really annoyin' to get called into a threat sighting only to have it be me bustin' my own ass."
He considers, "Armwrestlin' I'd consider," he says. "Not likely to get any property damage from that."
Ares looks at Hellboy's Wand badge. Great, he's in the same family as those SHIELD nuts. He seems to continue drinking. He seems to show interest in the arm wrestling. This should be funny to watch. But, he then watches as Hilde snap-turns at him, apparently rather vehement at him for saying she'll nag Hellboy.
He doesn't apologize.
"Well, try and pick a sturdy table, if there is one. If it shatters from too much strength, the contest would be pretty boring. But, I'm sure you two will have fun. But I think I'll claim the right to face the winner. or the loser. Or both." aaaand there's the cockiness.
Brunhilde sways a bit closer to pick it up, looking at it. "…do you know a….a tattoo girl." She holds a hand out, about Keiko's height. "Like thish? Th' tattoos come off and bite people…" She squints. "I punched a door for her once. Well…she was there…" she says, frowning thoughfully as she tries. "And there was a mage there too…."
She's distracted by Ares offering to take on the winner, which speaks to her competitiveness as she draws herself up. "That'll be me…" she brags, then points. "That table..the booth looks sturdy…." she says, pointing to one of the solid looking table, thens aunters over to sit down. "You can even use your strong right hand…" she says, resting her elbow on the top, her fingers wiggling.
Hellboy shakes his head, "That hand's strong, but not in the way you mean. I'll stick to lefty, if it's all the same," he says.
"Yeah, I know the girl. She ain't exactly the friendly type but you can rely on her good enough. And I probably know the mage you mean, too. Those two stick together like glue. Probably puppy love. I ain't one to judge."
He offers up his hand and regards Ares looking his way, "I'll pass if it's just the same to you. I'm only humorin' the lady to keep the peace."
"Peace is just a catastrophe waiting to happen. The suspence before the storm." Ares says with a bit of a bite in his words. "But I won't arm wrestle you if you don't want. It was an offer, that is all." and offers can be declined.
Though when asked if he knows a girl covered in tattoos, he shakes his head. "Likely not the person who you mean." He shrugs, but then turns his head to look upon the arm wrestling as it is about to begin, leaving his seat with his drink in his hand to watch.
Even as tall as she is, Brunhilde's hand is swallowed up by Hellboy's, her fingers curling around the side of his hand as he offers it as she pouts. "Awww….fair…" she allows. "You fight with them though…against monsters." Her eyes slit. "I hunt monsters too." She glances over to Ares as he wanders over. "Now you sound like Balder…" she mutters.
Her fingers squeeze a bit gainst Hellboy's hand, showing off her own strength a little. "On three, we start then?" She leans forward. "One….two….three!" She doens't rush it, keeping it steady…dishonorable to win by cheating like that, in her mind. Her bicep flexes at the start though, applying pressure firmly against Hellboy's grip as she grins at him wolfishly.
Well, she's strong than him, he can tell that pretty quickly. He ain't the strongest thing there is, not by a longshot, although he'd crush most any human in a split second without thinking twice. Brunhilde was in a different weight class, insofar as strength went, though. Still, he put up a good fight, his arm trembling a bit as he uses a bit of leverage and experience to try and fight off the inevitable defeat.
He didn't reallyc are that much about winning and losing. He just figured she wouldn't be satisfied if it went too easy.
Ares looks at Brunhilde. "More like Balder talks like me." Just who was this guy anyway? But once the contest seems to start, Ares narrows his eyes. Brunnhilde wins this one, and he knows it. The only question is how long will Hellboy continue to make her work for it?
But he doesn't say anything nor do anything. He just watches.
and waits.
The ex-valkyrie doesn't immediately try to overpower Hellboy's grip, just applying strength in a steadily increasing pressure, seeming to enjoy the struggle as much as anything. Even when Brunnhilde finally powers through to push the top of Hellboy's hand over to smack into the table, she seems cheered by it, grinning as she reaches over to give him a firm pat on the shoulder "You ARE strong…" she compliments, flexing her fingers. "I had to push…" She doesn't seem hugely competitive…more that it's entertaining for her. Maybe reminding her of better times and other meadhalls, perhaps? "What is your name, troll puncher? I am Brunnhilde…" she says simply.
She glances over, motioning for him to join them in the booth…well, Hellboy will need to scooch over some, but they can all fit at least! "Baldur talks like Baldur…I don't know who you talk like. Who are you?" she says, putting her hand back up for Ares now."
Hellboy snorts, "Got a few names, some of 'em I don't like much. You can call me Hellboy or Red, I answer to both," he says. He stands up and steps off to the side to allow Ares in. He's listening, though and stays close. He's awfully curious as to the strange man's identity now as well. He's been dropping a few hints, but, honest truth, a lot of that mythology shit bored the crap out of him back when he was studyin'. He was a mite rusty on all the pantheon family trees.
When Hellboy moves out of the way, Ares slides into the booth. The question makes him tilt his head. "Brunnhilde." he repeats when he hears the name, as if committing it to memory. But when he's asked who he is. "Normal people will tell you I'm John Aaron. But my name is Ares." The son of Zeus? The Exiled God? Heh, the most hated member of the Greek pantheon? Well then.
He lifts his hand and sets his elbow on the table, ready to grip Brunnhilder's hand and see who wins.
"Now that we all know each other, let us see which is stronger, yes?"
"Red…I like Red." Brunnhilde decides, grinning at Hellboy. "Hilde is good too for me." She shifts in her seat as Areas slides in, then raises a brow, a glint in her eyes as Ares gives his civilian name…and his real one.
"Olympian." she purrs. "I haven't met one of you in a long time…" She offers her hand, curling her fingers around his as she leans forward. "Show me…" The slur to her speech appears to be fading quickly, the adrenaline burning off some of the poisons in her body as she's distracted by the competition from continuing her current bottle.
And she is strong! But it's evident fairly quickly that Ares is about twice as strong as she is. Her hand hit sthe table as soon as Ares choses to put it there, though she gives a valiant fight, and lets out a yell as it happens, grinning fiercely. "Strong…you're stronger than he was." she says, wiggling her fingers.
Ares wraps his fingers around her own as he looks at her. "Neither have I met a valkyrie in some time. But lets see what we have to show one another." Then they push forward, though Ares is clearly far stronger than Brunnhilde, but he allows her to try as much as she wants with a grin on his face, before he finally just ends it, pushing his hand foward to force her hand to hit the table.
He seems to grin then as he releases her hand, despite the finger wiggling. He sips what was left of his drink before he breathes out. "So then, what brings you here this neck of the woods?"
"Ex-valkyrie." Hilde corrects, firmly, then huffs, leaning back, eyeing the bottle she left on the other table, but not quite willing to get up to fetch it yet. "Here in this tavern, or here in New YOrk, or here on MIdgard?" she says, tilting her head. "They all have different answers."
"Might as well explain them all in any order you prefer." Ares answers calmly, setting his empty bottle aside as he looks at her. "I know why I am here on midgard, in this tavern, and in this city. So in exchange for your answers, I shall give you mine."
Brunnhilde slits her eyes as she shifts, crossing her legs absently. "Mmmm…I am on Midgard because I am in exile from Asgard. I am in New York because there are many monsters here to hunt, mythical or human. And I am here because…" She pauses, frowning. "…because I had a disagreement with a…a friend."
Ares gives a light nod. "A friend or a lover?" asks the hated son of Zeus. But then he explains whether or not she answers his question. "I am here because of my own self-exile. I simply did not wish to be treated like the dog my family believes me to be. I am in New York because my son is also here, and this city is a heart of chaotic order, something I happen to like. I am in this tavern because I heard it has the most extensive drinking list in the city. So far it has not disappointed."
Brunnhilde's lips twitch as she flicks her eyes towards that bottle again. "…the latter." Not saying the word herself. Her attention returns to Ares as he explains. "…I chose exile as well. I was…" She scowls. Gods, now she really wants the drink, her fingers curling against the table a bit. "…my family considers me a traitor. A betrayer, because I refused to obey Odin's orders and deserted my position."
Hellboy has returned but just sits back and continues to sip his whiskey, kicking his feet up on the table. He's listening, he's interested and he'd rather not steer things back onto the 'let's see who can fight who' mood. And he's softened a bit towards Ares, whom he'd assumed was just going to make things worse. Coming back from the can to find out that the place hadn't been ripped apart is frankly a pleasant surprise.
Ares seems to quirk a brow at her. Apparently he knows the feeling. "I was in love once. It was a mistake." of course he probably speaks of Aphrodite. His long love. "My family considered me a tool of war, only to be praised when danger was at their door, and to be cast in the mud when the danger was done. I grew tired of it. So I told them all to shove it and I left. No position as important as a Valkyrior but…oh well."
He then looks at Hellboy, giving him a 'welcome back' kind of upnod before he resettles his attention on Hilde.
Hilde idly waves to Hellboy's return, frowning a bit as she folds her arms over her chest, unconsciously defensive. "…it is…I never said it was love. It's…she is just…very…." She struggles a bit, then huffs. "Never mind that." She shakes her head. "…my…my 'lord'…" she says, with distaste. "Behaved…without honor. He treated me as a possession to do with as he pleased, not a warrior. Not a leader. He slew those I cared for, to protect his own pride." Her tone is bitter now. "And then he tried to give it all back to me, as if I would /forget/ what he had done, and become a faithful little dog for him again." She shrugs. "…so I told him to shove it and left." she says, smirking faintly. "…he turned them all against me though. Even my battle sisters…."
Hellboy shakes his head, "Sounds like a damn shame, all around," he says. "Bosses can be bitches. Most've mine are just mid-level bureaucrats with more Rogaine than brains. But I got the benefit of them just bein' dumbass humans and not, y'know, gods or relatives or any o' that junk," he says.
"Valkryies got a pretty badass rep, though. Explains a lot."
"Sorry to hear." Ares says to Hilde. Though he can tell this is a very hard topic for her to discuss, but its a good thing she's at least talking about it. He looks at Hellboy. "Indeed. Seems you got the longest straw in this regard." he shakes his head for a moment.
He did seem amused by her using his words to explain she left.
Brunnhilde hmmphs, then flexes a bicep. "I was leader of the Valkyior, once…" she murmurs. "The strongest of all of my sisters." Her eyes flick to the bottle again, before the temptation finally is too strong, as she slides out of the booth, walking over to scoop up the bottle, and to take a long drink, before she wanders back to the booth to sit again. She grins at Hellboy. "Boring or annoying or dumb is better, I guess…"
Hellboy slides a fresh bottle of Fireball he picked up at the counter, letting her have it while he keeps one to himself. "Strongest of 'em all, that I definitely believe," he says. "And everybody knows I got the long straw. It's why the ladies love me," he jokes.
"To absent enemies and annoyin' bosses," he says, holding up his drink before taking a shot.
Ares seems amused. "I believe it as well. Perhaps if you're looking for something to do, you'll join me when I'm off fighting battles. Give you something to do that doesn't involve a bottle." he grins lightly. It'd be nice to see the famed Valkyrie's skills in person, after all. "To shitty bosses." Ares agrees, but has nothing to drink, so he doesn't. but then he looks at Hellboy, apparently at least mildly amused by his sense of humor.
Valkyrie raises her bottle. "To shitty bosses!" she proclaims, loudly, then clinks her bottle to Hellboy's glass before taking a long shot herself!