2019-08-08 - It's A Clunker


Alexander is being pestered by his Uncle and receives help from an unexpected quarter.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Thu Aug 8 22:24:56 2019
Location: O'Riley's Teahouse

Related Logs


Theme Song



Greenwich Village is always active during the day, frenetic. At times with people crossing the narrow streets at even the slightest hint of a gap in the slow moving traffic. Often food trucks are just parked near the corner of some intersections, drawing a crowd of punters. The people on the sidewalk continue on, and on a day like today they might be distracted by the small gatherings and folksiness of the occasional table selling pieces of homemade art, or wind chimes, or at the worst silly string.
It's not out of the ordinary for cars to troll along barely above walking speed. But a fair amount of people are noticing the late 80s Limousine, its hubcaps and wheel wells covered in mud and grime, one of its headlights on during the day though flickering. They likely pay little attention to the large raven that flares its wings and hops along, taking flight with one great flap of its wings and landing in the next tree over. Seemingly it keeps pace with the limo itself as it crawls along.
It's not even that out of the ordinary that the raven and the limo are keeping pace with one particular civilian on the sidewalk. A youth with a shock of golden blond hair and his hands duck deep into his pockets. His shoulders are hunched and he has a sour grimace on his face as he keeps glancing over his shoulder.
Even when he looks up and says, "I said no, jeez!" In the direction of the Limo, nobody really keys into it. It doesn't look too out of the ordinary at all.
But then again if one were to have some affinity with the creatures of the other world that swirl about the world. That come into contact with the wandering souls of Earth or Midgard as some would say. They would perhaps be shocked or surprised to see a great mass of ethereal ravens, ghostly creatures all following the larger, all cawing their echoed calls, all flocking from one tree to another. They would see the anima that dwells within the long luxury vehicle, centered in the engine and writhing around its surface like some great horned anaconda that squeezes tight to the mechanisms. No driver within, for no life essence dwells there. Only this creature and the ravens. All following this walking youth.
"Seriously, I gotta hit the lab!" The youth calls out again, clearly displeased. And very very grumpy.

As the limo trawls along, the youth grumps in its direction and the flock of etheral ravens follow as well, a tall, stern, blonde steps from the shadows where two buildings meet. She hadn't been there a minute ago, had she?

The people around her part, giving her room - though they don't seem to realise they do it though.

There's frost on the blondes eyebrows and hair, a light dusting of it coating her shoulders, despite the weather and she's carrying a bag on her shoulder. Her clothing? Quite modern really - trousers and a tunic, but there's something 'otherworldly' about her bearing.

The Raven and the flock following it draws her attention. "Little sister…" she smiles to the bird before turning her attention to the blonde youth. Interesting. "Finals coming up, hmmm?" She chooses to say.

The raven halts, flaring its wings as the bird spirits around it all do the same, subtly out of sync as they hope from branch to branch. They are creatures, perhaps sharing some kinship to other servants of such beings as her. These have a master, great in power though rarely has his signature been felt upon the overland for some time.
The slithering creature raises its head beyond the confines of the limousine's hood and engine, and for a brief instant in time the cloud of birds and the serpent confer. Whatever passes between them, however, is unknown. Yet the result is clear as they each rises up, and dissipating into so much ethereal energy…
It leaves one very confused raven looking around wildly, and the Limousine's engine cuts out with a /CLUNK/ as steam starts to rise from its radiator.
But the youth, with the golden hair and the blue eyes turns his head to the side and looks at her. There's a steady flow of thoughts and emotions she can read on his face. No talent in hiding them, or at the least none developed yet. There is surprise, curiousity, wariness. Then something akin to hesitant thanks as he says, "Yeah." Still wary, "Fall semester coming up."
But whatever consideration is given to the young man, he carries himself well at the least. And if one were of the ability to, his aura might convey an inclination to the burden he carries or the role he's charged with.

Astryd watches all this happen, her face still stern though there's the faintest sense of amusement as the spirits all disperse. "Well, that was easier than I expected…" She holds an arm out to the confused looking raven "Come, little sister."

"You had some interesting escorts with you, young man. Are they friend or foes?" The now dead limousine draws her stormy grey eyes. "And do you need to call AAA for that?" He can't mistake her for what she is - if he's got the sense. Not goddess in the sense of the word, but that aura about her - wreaks of the underworlds.

"Were they offering to help, then?"

"It's," Alexander's eyes narrow as he shifts his gaze towards the steaming Limousine that really had no right in being out of a repair shop. She can likely see on his face the way his eyes subtly widen as if trying to mentally encompass the entirety of the story he'd have to tell to fit the whole thing into some sort of semblance of sense. He shakes his head slightly and looks back with almost resigned eyes as he says. "It's… my uncle's?" His voice lilting up at the end as if asking question but more perhaps indicating that he knows… that's not going to be enough.
The raven, however, seems to flitter down and land with a single flaring of its wings just to brake itself before alighting upon her arm. It preens, straightening up tall and proud as the raven seems entirely sure that it belongs right here.
Yet nobody reacts, they do not notice her, nor the raven now that is grooming itself. Which causes Alexander to peer at her curiously. "But no, I'm not going to clean up his mess." Though he does eye the Limo askance, seemingly rather displeased at the whole situation.

"And what of you, little sister?" Astryd easily speaks to the Raven, there's an affinity there of course - not that she expects it to respond. When the bird lands, the talons should dig into her flesh and draw blood - but they don't. "You seemed distraught when your followers left you. Are you watching *over* this one, or just watching him?"

An Asgardian is tougher than that after all.

The frost that covered the blonde is slowly melting away, leaving her hair and brows slightly damp. "Your uncles, hmmm? I suppose that's fair you're not going to clean it up. Leaving a vehicle that was possessed by spirits in the street might be dangerous though, don't you think?" Her eyes cut to the coffee shop, they've stopped next to. "I think you have a tale to tell me, yes?"

"I'm Astryd. Valkyr of Fenris." That's … an interesting way of introducing herself. Not … Odins?

The little raven offers insight, speaking in a language that is silent and more the language of the body, telling her of its displeasure in each slight shuffle and twist, or even its displeased flutter of feathers as it turns its head. But it's Alexander that perhaps adds words that may well not be needed should she understand the raven's unheard voice.
"I think his flock… possessed her. For a time." It's how it did it before.
But he does steal a glance now and again for the vehicle. He frowns to himself and as she speaks on it that's all it takes to trigger the guilty spectre of his conscience as it comes forth. Though it only manifests in him unslinging his backpack and reaching into one of the pockets for his cellphone.
It just takes a few moments for him to swipe it alive and to send the text needed to the triple A service that his father's engaged some time ago. While he does this he answers her, "I mean," The phone fades from activity and he slips it into a pocket. He looks at her and again that lilt, "Don't we all?"
But her name causes his expressive eyebrows to rise again. "Astryd." She can say him committing that to memory with some weight, then adding. "I'm. Alexander. Aaron. Alexander Aaron. Alex." A flow of words that rolls together partially.

"His flock? Your uncles?" Astryd takes a moment to sooth the ravens ruffled feathers, stroking a finger down her chest gently. "If that's the case, I won't say The Morrigan. She'll take offense at being called 'he'." The Valkyr seems amused. "And why would a nephew be of such interest?"

She doesn't recognise the name. Why would she?

"Hush now, Little sister. They'll not bother you for a moment. Should you need a sanctuary, you can find me in Queens. We offer you guest right." That's to the bird and to Alexander.

"I suppose everyone has a tale, Alexander. Aaron. Alexander Aaron. Alex." She's teasing a little. "But not all entail an underworld lord for an uncle and a car that is powered by spirit-locomotion. Let me buy you a drink." She gestures to the cafe but won't stop him if he wants to move on.

"Fate, I think, has bought us together, this day."


His attention is fully on her, blue eyes flitting to her face, to the raven, to her eyes, her lips when she speaks, then back to her features. He listens with a small nod, biting his lower lip in reflection on her words, the situation, his thoughts.
"Eh, it's a… long story." He offers in way of non-explanation. But then she calls him by his loooong name and his eyes widen a touch, /almost/ rolling as he shakes his head and an exhalation slips from him that would almost be a laugh if it were given but a mote more life.
"Alex." He corrects, but she can see the laughter in his eyes when he espies it in hers. He feigns some hint of sourness but then she mentions Fate and he gives a single knowing nod.
"E'er in touch yet ne'er a friend in lives such as ours." As if reciting something he had heard before. Then he turns to her and says, "The Fates." More personal to him perhaps or known in some form in particular.
"I do appreciate you making them go away though. Thank you." There, that was needed and done.

That does make Astryd laugh. Not that it makes her face any less stern, that mien has developed over thousands of years. "Alex, then."

"And aren't they all? Long stories? I have time, if you do." The blonde is amused as the youth doesn't try to move on but doesn't accept her invitation. One with final stroke of the ravens chest, she holds her arm up "Off you go, little sister. You know where to find me should you have need."

"My story is thousands of years in the making. Not all of it is thrilling either."

"I didn't do much in regards to the spirits. I would have escorted them back to the Underworld though, had I needed." That's unusual. She's definitely Asgardian but she speaks of walking the ways of another Pantheon. And she's definitely at home here in New York.

"Why is your Uncle following you, Alex?" As to The Fates, Astryd snorts "The Fates and those who sit above in shadows… always nudging our paths to their own design."

Alexander, for his part, has a much simpler version of it. "They're jerks." The Fates. He shoves his hands into his pockets and glances down the side of the street, then back to her. Perhaps for a brief moment he catches himself as if checking to see if his opinion caused some measure of umbrage. But then he says, "I just mean… they seem to take a lot of joy in rubbing one string against another until one breaks. Or…" He makes a small scissors motion, "Snipping one short."
But he looks away at that, frowning to himself. "I don't mind answering, or telling. I suppose. Astryd." Again he meets her eyes, as if looking for some hint behind those irises. "And I thank you for the offering of guest rite." His tone shifts a little to a hint of formality.
Then he says, "But maybe…" He looks back towards the campus and seems to ponder something, then looks back. He has time. If he stays over late for the labwork. "Coffee?" It's at that moment he looks past her to that teahouse just across the street, after all.

"The Fates are jerks, yes but they aren't the final arbiters." The blonde smiles "Or so we think. Tea would be nice. That place has been here for many years. I remember when it opened." She gestures and begins to cross the street.

The crowd flows around her, parting to make way. It's entirely unconscious on her part but she certainly takes in her stride.

Once inside the coffee shop, Astryd is greeted and shown to a table. It's quite quaint, really, the decor - harking back to days long gone.

"So, nephew of an underworld lord. What brings you to his attention? Most gods don't bother with their semi-mortal children." Most. But not all.

Alexander is still new enough to the world to look at somethings with wide-eyed curiosity and almost wonder. She can see it in brief moments when he thinks he's unobserved, watching how the world seems to make way for her, how people are just accepting of her presence as if this is all right and correct. And then when they are taken to a table.
He settles into the seat, backpack making a faint clink and clank as he sets it down beside his seat. "I um." Eyes still following the server who seems to sort of acknowledge them and also yet not?
"I'd like some tea as well?" He looks between the server and Astryd. Then shakes his head with a small shrug as if to say, 'Ok, does that work?'
But then she asks him her question and he says, "It's complicated." But perhaps remembers what words had been shared to him about Asgardians. So he elaborates. "I. Am Phobos. Now." He says. "Well. Have been. For a few years." There, that should straighten everything up.

"Tea. You'll like the blend here, I believe." Astryd watches the young man, something sitting just behind her eyes. A memory perhaps that makes her a little melancholy. Perhaps he reminds her of someone. "Complicated is interesting. And who'd want to be simple? Try falling in love with the Apocalypse Wolf and being exiled from your home for trying to change his Fate." She gestures, letting him decide to continue at his own pace.

"Phobos. Lord of Fear." He can feel her gaze as it washes over him. "Now. Did win the mantle then, in a battle to the death? Or was it game of poker?" She's teasing slightly, trying to get him to relax. "If it's only been years, you must have been overly young when the mantle was conferred." Young. She would think that.

His eyes lift and he looks to the side. Synapses that he does not allow to fire are coming to life as he looks a little away and then back towards her. But what happened then is not a secret. There was even something of a small ceremony amongst the family as Zeus send out messengers though it could have just been for show.
Yet his father did tell him to keep to himself, and not show too much to the mortals. Then again. She's not a mortal.
He doesn't question the part about falling for a wolf, though a subtle narrowing of his eyes might exhibit a hint of question unspoken. Then that question is dismissed as he knows that the Asgardians are strange at times about the forms they hold.
It's when she questions him that his lips twist slightly and he says, "It was in battle." His brow beetles subtly as if she can tell he doesn't want to explain that part of what happened. Then the reluctance is reinforced when he adds the small bit, "I was ten."

"You would know him as Fenrir Wolf, or Fenris." Astryd answers the unspoken question. Yes, that's the one. The one fated to bring about Ragnarok. To kill Odin and eat the Sun.

There might well be rumours about the Wolf and the Raven who work to change their Fate.

"Ten? So young and yet you prevailed. And your uncle has taken an interest in you, all this time? Or his interest new?" The blonde glances out the window to the Limo that's still there. "He has an interesting way of keeping tabs on you."

Lips parting in a small 'ah' and she'll see him affect an actual effort to control his features. The only hint to his thought evident in the faintest raise of his eyebrows and then the freeze of his features otherwise. But then his lips draw back a little, he swallows, then he says.
"I don't know why he's interested in me." Since he hasn't taken him up on the invites to go visit him. Since, yeah. That'd be insane. "He just wants to meet. I think. My father is pretty angry about it."
And perhaps anticipating further questions he adds, "My father." He uncurls a hand towards her, pauses, then adds. "There was a war going on. And I fought in it. I proved myself, and then I was given the mantle." Many gaps there, omissions, but at least somewhat forthcoming.

"Don't believe all that your told of us, Alex." Astryd tries not to smile at his response. It's what she expects, after all. "Though, some of it is well deserved. You'll have to sift the fact from the lies. I don't mean you harm." beat "At the moment."

"Your father - I could guess who that is, but I think you should confirm it. Assumption, after all, makes an Ass out of U and Me." Oh yes, the blonde has been on Midgard for a millenia and it shows. Vernacular, she seems to have down pat. Unusual for a Goddess, really.

"There are always wars within the Pantheons. Someone sleeps with someones mortal and knocks them up." Whilst the blonde youth is dreadfully serious and clearly ill at ease, the blonde woman seems amused. "And you haven't agreed to meet with your Uncle because you respect your father?"

A small twitch of his lip is seen twice. First at her statement that she means him no harm, at the moment. And then at the second when she offers the old ASSUME joke that has him almost rolling his eyes, but not. Instead he closes his eyelids ever so slightly as if she pained him so… so very much.
But his smile is warm when they open and he meets her gaze again, "Well," He says as he leans back in his seat a little, his smile a little sardonic as he adds, "I mean, have you met my family?" Since really, nobody in their right mind would want to meet them for tea.
Speaking of, he looks up towards the server as she returns and he smiles a little in thanks, giving a nod as he accepts the cup after Astryd is given hers.

That does make Astryd laugh. "You don't have much of a sense of humour, do you? Well, I suppose not. You're supposed to strike FEAR into the hearts of man…" Oh, she's teasing and enjoying it, just a little too much. "You're too young to be so serious, you should live a little when you can. I used to tell my children that, when I was able."


"Have you met mine? Aren't they all similar in ways?" She responds, nodding the server as her tea arrives.

"So you don't want to meet an uncle you haven't you met because the rest of your family is … awkward? Maybe he'll surprise you."

She doubts that.

His eyes flare a bit, widening as he looks at her for a time with a smile that seems to confide to her, 'lady you ain't seen nothin' though he looks away and smiles down towards his tea. For a time he uses that as an excuse to gather his thoughts, adding a bit of sugar by tilting the container on its side and letting some pour into his cup.
Then there's the spoon that he uses to swirl it about. It's only once that's done that he answers. "I've not met any of your family, ma'am." He offers that and then says, "I mean, my father has granted many stories, though usually about battles and the people he's punched." Which might well narrow him down there enough.
"But I've met most of my family, and it was…" His eyes distance, perhaps even haze a little, "Difficult." The stories he could tell, but to be fair… he's not going to gossip too much. For now at least.

"Consider yourself lucky but you've time yet and there's enough of them around New York, I'm sure you will." Astryd's smile fades but her amusement doesn't "Stories of battle from the God of War? Wonders will never cease to amaze me. I'm curious though that our paths haven't crossed, I've been on many battlefields in my time. That does seem strange indeed."

Then again, who said a God of War made personal appearances on the field of battle.

"I can introduce you to some, if you like." It's flippant. There's actually a couple of Asgardians who Astryd actually likes. Sif for one. Fenris definitely. Hod … well. That man is harder to pin down than … anything else she can think of.

"Difficult is just a way of testing you, Alex. Family has a way of doing that, that no other can. Why not agree to meet to meet your Uncle on neutral grounds and see what he has to say? Or does the Lord of Fear, fear himself?"

He listens as he holds his cup of tea with both hands, not quite drinking, more just anticipating or considering the drinking. But he's listening to her, thoughtful as he weighs her words. "If you like, ma'am." He says towards the prospect of meeting others. "I'm sort of… just trying to finish school."
There, that might help her get a handle on his perspective and desires. Perhaps moreso as she offers that casual rejoinder about his own fear.
So he siiiighs, and she can almost see how horrible he must have been as a ten year old as he /does/ roll his eyes this time. He looks away then back at her with mildly widened eyes as if he was explaining this to someone who licked windows throughout their entire educational career. "I'm not /afraaaid./"
It's said so matter-of-factly.
"He and my dad don't exactly get along. And when I told him, 'hey, by the way, Hades sent some evil undead messengers to try and bring me to see him.' he sorts lost it a bit. So there's already craziness going on."
He chuffs again indignantly. "And with that getting ready to go down I should just up and deliver myself to the guy, 'oh hai, uncle. I completely trust you. What did you need me for? Oh as a hostage? Awesome!'"
And with that torrent of dialogue drawn from him he slouches a little in the chair and chuffs a bit about the entire thing. Only then does he sip his tea.

Astryd's eyes narrow at the 'maam' "Really! Do I look that old to you?" Now she's really teasing. Seriously, she only *seems* a few years older than himself. Letting him chew on that a bit, the Valkyr sips her tea. "You were a terrible child, weren't you? I remember many of mine at that age."

But … not all.

"Well, yes. That was probably not the best way for your Uncle to request an audience. If it were one of my … relatives … and my child, I'd have been most strident in the lack of decorum that entailed." Really, the god of war, wasn't wrong to be upset.

"But still, I'm not saying go to him. Have him come to you. He seems … eager … to meet, he just might." There's two places she can think of that might considered 'neutral ground'. The Obsidian Bar and the Kerensky house in Queens.

"And are you sure it's not fear that driving you? Fear of the unknown - of what might ensue if you do."

She chuckles as the young slouches, giving him time to respond if he chooses. "And what is it that you're finishing school doing?"

She can see him tilting his head to the side and him making a sort of face as if he just told someone the directions to the interstate and they asked him to repeat it. A deep breath is drawn and he looks back over at her. "I was a great child." Though at the end of that sentence he can't stifle a small laugh, not exactly lying… but knowing that he did cause problems. Before the kidnapping even.
Another deep breath but not quite a sigh he looks at her. "It's not so much I am worried for myself. I just know that just by existing… people will try to use me to manipulate my father. And I don't want that to happen."
And then she might get a hint to his actual thought process as his brow furrows slightly and he relates to her, "In any case, if he presses a third time that carries a weight of import to it. Could signal desperation or an outside pressure upon the situation."
He looks back to her, "I'll likely send word back via his messenger and offer a meeting with completely unacceptable terms, but should hopefully grant me a strong position from which to bargain. And then that should at least bear fruit with a partial message conveying tactics if not true position."
A rapid-fire offer of game theory, but then he looks away as she asks about his major and he says a little sheepishly. "Oh. Studying? History." That's right, Alex copped out and is majoring in Ancient History. Why? Probably because with his background. SO EASY.

"Oh, I'm sure you were. And you shared all your toys too, didn't you?" It's almost fond, the teasing. Like the blonde sees something in the young man that reminds her of others.

"Alex. Simply by existing you are target that others can use against your father. It is the way of Power, unfortunately. Accept that it will happen, there's no avoiding it."

She lets that sit for a bit, nodding slowly as the young man outlines his plans. "Exactly. You can chose to control the situation or be controlled. It never hurts to stack the field in your favour - don't believe these Midgardians when they talk of a 'level playing field'. In War and families like ours, there is no such thing." She's serious too, he can tell. The amusement has faded and the stern warrior has returned.

He might even get glimpses of what she was like on the battlefield, herself.

"Should you need a neutral party as a second, you may call on me." Fenris will roll his eyes, she's sure on that, and ask what possessed to make such an offer.

"History. Of course. Not modern history, I take it. Let me guess. Greek and Roman Civilisations."

A nod is given as he lightly taps fingertips upon the tabletop, giving thought to her words. It's when she offers to be a neutral party that he looks up and meets her gaze once again. "That is kind of you, ma'am." Though he might see the roil in her eyes at that word again so he quickly adjusts. "Ms. Astryd."
"But if he knows I've drawn others into it… beyond my mortal friends. Especially a Valkyrie of Asgard. Then that might make him pull back on his efforts and I won't get anything from him." Which is a possibility, and perhaps not something he wants right now.
His eyes lower again in thought, but then he remembers his manners and looks up quickly, "But thank you."
Yet when she presses him on his chosen major he gets a rueful but handsome smile, a twinkle in those blue eyes as if having used such an expression to get out of trouble before. But there's no manipulation there, just a hint of chagrin but embracing it. He flares his hands a bit, signalling the surrender. "Pretty much."

"Just Astryd. I don't stand on formality, Alex." The Raven answers. "If you're looking for me in the phone book though, it's Natasha Kerenksy." Her 'alias' so to speak.

"The offer is there, should you wish to take advantage. As is the sanctuary of our house. There are few who would risk the God Wolfs ire, after all. An angry enough wolf makes for a wonderful apocalypse."

She might be talking lightly about that, but Alex can see the tension about her eyes. Ragnarok - it's the sword of damacles hanging over their heads and everything she's worked to avoid.

"So you're studying something you were born to and you're telling me you need to put in lab time." She'd heard that. "Are you diligent or is there something else going on there?"

His spoon clinks against the side of his cup and then he sets it down gently beside it. Lifting the tea he takes a small sip as he listens to her, giving a small shrug and perhaps a nod before he considers.
"Well, I still gotta study the sciences and all." He tells her matter of factly, "I need to be a well rounded renaissance demi-god." He says that with a slight smile but more sardonic, self-deprecating even. Though after he says that his eyes distance a little as if not all parts of that sat well with him.
Shaking his head he looks back to her and says with a smile, "But alright, Astryd."
Then he sits up in his chair and rests his forearms on the tabletop, tilting his head to the side with an inquisitive look in his blue eyes, "Did I satisfy your curiousity?"

"Ooooh. A smart demi-god." Astryd teases again, smiling faintly as he agrees to use *just* her name. "Sciences are good. Particularly in this day and age. It's such a different world now, to when I first arrived in New York."

Sipping her tea, which is now rapidly cooling, the blonde meets the youths eyes and nods slowly. "For now. I hope I don't have to deal with your Uncles minions with prejudice. As much as I can walk the Underways, I prefer not to upset their overlords."

For some reason she is a touch disarming, which is a curious thing for a Valkyrie. Since then Alexander finds himself teasing back as he offers, "Hey. You poked your nose into it. I had it under /complete/ control." As he says that one word he sweeps a hand around as if to signal this. All of this? It's all under control.
But then he asks, "So it's your turn now. Quid Pro Quo." He leans over and liberates another packet of sugar from the container and shifts himself in his seat a little, crossing a leg over his knee and looking into the depths of his cup.
"Share what you'd like to share. But if there's swordplay feel free to expand." His lip curls as if he granted her such kindness in that permission granted.

"Of course you did." Astryd says with a completely straight face. "Which is why my mere appearance chased them away and you had to call Triple A." beat "And that poor Raven looked harried enough to be moulting." Oh yes, she's disarming. A thousand years living with the God Wolf, mostly, teaches you a thing or two about balance.

"You want to learn swordplay? This isn't the place for it, but if you like … pup … I'll show you a thing or two another time." There's complete confidence there. As well there should be. A Valkyr doesn't get a reputation for no reason.

"Oh well, what shall I share? It's been over two thousand years since I was in Asgard. I've travelled the nine realms through the underworlds." She keeps saying that. Underworlds. Not just Underworld. Not just Valhalla. "I was reunited with Fenris after a thousand years of wandering and we've been together, companions, for most of that time."

What … then … had she done when they weren't together?

His eyes narrow shrewdly as he listens to her, navigating the things she's saying but also the things she's not saying. His head tilts faintly but says nothing towards the need to learn swordplay, perhaps letting that pass for now. Instead he brings his hands together before him steepled with just the index fingers lightly tapping against each other.
"Hmmm," He says, perhaps merely for emphasis and then continues, "Tell me…" He lifts his head slightly, Alex's smile perhaps a little disarming on its own. "What you have sort of always wanted to tell someone who asked. But no one had the courage to ask." He nods sagely, while affecting a face that almost looks wizened despite his years.
"Failing that, is it true that Asgardian Mead is strong enough to affect us?"

"What has no had the courage to ask…" Astryd considers that. "… There are many things that are never asked either for fear of upset or insult or because they are afraid of the answer. How about what I would do if Fenris were ever chained again? There would be no power in the Nine Realms that would stop me reaping revenge and freeing him. They would not have to fear the God Wolf starting the apocalypse, I would start it instead."

The way her eyes flash, there can be no doubt on that.

"Asgardian Mead? When you're old enough, I'll let you try some yourself. But it's laid many a god under the table." Ohhhhh. She's sassying his age.

For a moment he smiles as she speaks like that and for some reason it makes him smile, it makes even a flush of colour touch his cheeks. Is he frightened of this talk of the apocalypse and the ensuing war that would ensue if one would dare harm this love of her immortal life? No. No fear in him, for that at least. There is perhaps an appreciation.
For when he speaks he looks almost like a lone wanderer who had stumbled across a darling puppy, or a diver who upon cracking open a shell finds a pearl beyond price. He looks at her and says, "I hope someday. To find something, some sort of connection as wonderful as that, Astryd."
He even sighs slightly. But then she goes and ruins it.
When she jibes him about his age his lips part and his eyes widen and he says simply, "Oh you jerk." But s'truth, technically she is correct. The best kind of correct.
Then he bites his lower lip as he pronounces judgement on that by saying, "Ffffine." But not really displeased, easily perceived from his warm features.

That's not the first time lately Astryd's been told that what they have is … revered. "One day you might. You have to be open to it and be prepared to have to it challenged." Phobos though - it looks like he enjoys a good fight.

"Come by the house sometime and I'll let you try." The Valkyr winks. Yes, she was being a jerk and enjoying it. "We have to use contacts to get our supplies. Asgard is closed to both of us but we know enough beings that we never want. Maybe I'll cook for you as well."

For a time the blond-haired blue-eyed youth looks at her and it's as if he's pondering something, or simply trying to solve the puzzle that is Astryd for the moment. Then he nods and he says "That might be nice. It was a pleasure to meet you." There's a pause, as if he feels he should offer a title of some sort, then simply uses, "Astryd."
Leaning over and reaching down he undoes a zipper on his pack, retrieving a phone that's perhaps a year or so old and in a red protective cover. A thumb swipe activates it and he slides it across the table to the center. "I can't promise anything until the break mebbe. But it's a nice thing to think about."
He doesn't ask for the to share their contact info, he just figures they will as he looks at her expectantly. Kids these days.

Astryd returns the look. The youth will ask the question that's bothering, or not. Whatever the puzzle, in her experience, it will work itself out. "And pleasure to meet you, Alex." She gestures to the server and slides over her credit card. The drinks are on her.

"My home is open to you, Alex, when you're ready." The blonde answers, perhaps stunning him again as she takes out one of the latest smart phones and activates the contact sharing. Her number appears on his on phone and his on hers. "And now, you know how to contact me."

This is not a hide-bound Valkyr at all. Despite her old-world manners.

"And now, I must finish my tasks for the day." When her card is returned, the blonde slides from her chair and heads on out.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License