Summary:Ares and Hod reconnect while Kate gets a breif introduction to the god of war. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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With an evening this beautiful, not even the ever present stench of the city can keep Hod locked away inside a basement lair somewhere, hidden away from the world. Plus, he has a gig tonight. Outside of the Tavern, the upscale joint that it is, the patio service area gets occasionally live music and tonight that honor goes to Hodr Odinson, or… Hod. As some know him. Holden as his ID says. Holden, heh heh heh, is just finishing a set of heavy plucked guitar work, maudlin and bluesy the songs engender a real pain that takes some of the warmth and light and joy of such a perfect evening and colors it with a gauzy layer of self reflective enuui that's hard to shake.
He's not the god of music, but Wayfaring Stranger as sung with his own personal take is liekly to get anyone that hears it… even if they don't understand the references to Asgard, because real feeling translates well regardless of words. Taking a break for a bit, Hod rests his resonator guitar on his knee and lets loose a heavy sigh, one hand groping out seeking his drink on the stool next to him.
Kate had heard tell of a certain musician entertaining tonight so had ensured she was free to sit in when it happened. It had been awhile since she and Hod last played music together, and the first time since she'd actually gotten to hear him play what he knew as opposed to just accompanying her. A table had been snatched by the brunette archer to listen while she sipped at a drink just enjoying the evening for once. There was no need to fight off aliens, or Egyptian gods out to kill her. It was nice.
When Hod takes a break from his session, she shifts to her feet to cross the distance to where he rested. "Not bad for an old man, Hod," she offers by way of friendly greeting. "Then again I guess you've had plenty of time to practice."
Ares arrives at this lovely establishment, and he has heard the song of Hod. Despite having not seen each other for centuries, Ares never forgets a face. He is in his guise of John Aaron, dressed in some Construction slacks (but without the hard hat). He approaches Hod's table, and regardless of what existed between them in the past, Ares is a force of neutrality. "Well…well…well."
the voice is ominous as it is authoritative.
"What have we here? I thought you would be long dead by now, Blind One." then he looks to Kate. The Mortal.
"Good afternoon."
Hod snorts and offers a small twisted grin at Kate, "Hey there." he says, drawing his beer to his lips and taking a solid few gulps, "I was in a band in the '30's. Blind musicians were all the rage back th-" and he stops talking mid word, going still as death. "Get behind me." he says softly and with sudden vehemence as his beer is set caaaaaaaarefully back on the stool and his guitar, old and battered as it is, is set aside into it's case. The hand that was holding the beer? It drifts down to settle atop his cane while the guitar is put away, the larger motion hiding the smaller.
After a moment, Hod's face turns towards Ares, "A great many have thought that," he says up at Ares, "I would have thought you'd have learned better on the field at Amphipolis." his fingers tighten around the cane. Just in case.
Kate Bishop grins good naturedly as Hod starts to explain even as the other man comes up. An eyebrow raises slightly at mention of Hod being 'still alive'… and then he tells her to get behind him earning a roll of her eyes upward. "Oh, not another one. Hello," she greets Ares in turn before she steps up onto that little session stage behind Hod to pretend she's fiddling with the guitar amp. Just helping with the sound check, surely.
"Am I going to have to start carrying my gear everywhere?" she asks quietly of Hod though she's not really trying to not be heard, either.
Ares pulls up his chair and he sets it down in a way that his chest is pressed against the back of that chair, letting his muscular arms rest upon it. "I admire your bravado Hod, as I did back then. But perhaps fortunetly, I'm not here to kill you. Much has happened in the Realms Eternal since the last we spoke." He looks then upon Kate. "It might be wise, if you be a warrior."
Hod shifts so that his vest rides up at the back, and Kate can see the hilt of a blade there, peeking out from the vests hem. Two, in fact. One imagines the move was intentional on his part, "Bravado was easy to come by having so recently been shown it's true face." he seems to soften a little around the edges, "I never got the chance to thank you for what you did. For Brasidas." he says, then nods once. Audible thanks seem somehow cheap in the moment for what transpired over two millenia ago, sometimes words just don't cut it.
"The world continues ever onward, what is that mortal phrase? The more things change, the more they stay the same?" he shrugs a bit, then fixes an obvious oversight on his part, "Katie, meet Ares, son of Zeus and Hera, Prince of Olympus, God of War. Ares, this is Katie. She's good with a bow and solid in a fight. She's one of mine." that last sentence seemed to carry more meaning then the words would regularly imply. No touchie other gods play things. No touchie!
Kate Bishop tips her head to the side seemingly thoughtful. "Warrior. Good a term as any for what I do, I suppose." Her gaze drops down to Hod staring at his back well aware of the sight of those knives there. Or swords? Hard to tell without pulling it out. For now she opts not to. The last time they were in a fight with other gods it was bad to have been seen with a weapon.
When the introduction is made she glances over toward Ares only to give a solemn nod. "I thought Sif said I was one of her son's or something? I don't remember the name." It's shrugged off though as it really didn't matter. Sif had only said that due to her use of a bow.
"Scion was probably the word." Ares looks upon her, before he nods. "A pleasure, Katie." his voice was naturally deep. Like he was voiced by James Earl Jones or something (HE IS). but then he looks at Hod when he thanks him for what he did for Brasidas. "He was a warrior of honor and heroism. The rules of Elysium are clear." Ares tries to brush off the thanks, but then he sighs. "You are welcome. He asked me to send you his greetings and his well wishes." a few millenia late, but he recalls that Hod was a close friend of Brasidas.
Though he looks back to Katie. "Sif is an admirable warrior. A good shieldmaiden of Asgard."
Hod snorts, "The rules are always clear and often ignored by lesser gods." he turns away, making a show of packing up the guitar so he can hide his face a bit. Brasidas is still a sore spot with him, even 2500 years later. Some wounds never completely heal, and Ares is a potent reminder of one of the worse days of Hod's long long life. "What brings you to Midgard, Ares?" he pauses, "Phobos." he says as if the answer was obvious, and he turns to 'eye' (so to speak) the other god from behind mirrored shades, "You have a son. With a mortal woman." a brow quirks over the rim of the glasses, "There is a tale in that." and he grins a bit.
He doesn't comment on Sif, he has… conflicting opinions about her, though she's been nothing but decent to him of late. There's history there. As there always is with him. "Ullr. Her son Ullr, one of the two greatest archers of Asgard. I believe she was paying you a compliment, Katie."
Kate Bishop considers both of them with a nod of apparent agreement. "Of course she was complimenting me, Hod, I'd just kicked some serious ass." There was no lack of pride for her though she doesn't seem too full of herself while saying so: It's more confidence than cocky. Maybe a little cocky.
When Hod turns to tend to his guitar she lightly pats his shoulder not knowing what else to do or say that might help in that. Instead she glances at Ares regarding him along with the news that Hod had let out. "Just one kid? Doing better than your dad in that aspect then. No offense. He's kind of got a rep."
Ares looks at Katie as she expresses her confidence, which is really just cockiness at this point, but its good to know your own skills. Though he does look at Hod. Did he just call him a /lesser god/?! But then again, technically everyone other than Hades, Poseidon, and Zeus was a 'lesser god'. But he lets it slide.
When his sons name is mentioned, he narrows his eyes. "Choose your words carefully when it comes to my boy." Ares flares for a brief moment, but then he takes a breath.
"Maybe Kate and this Ullr fellow will have an archery contest like the days of Robin Hood."
Hod chuckles softly, "I know nothing of your son, other then that he is here. We nearly crossed paths some months back, but I have been in hiding for centuries and did not see a reason to make my presence known. I merely put the peices of the puzzle together old friend, I am many things but drunk enough to insult Ares is not among them. Yet." he reaches for his beer and takes another heavy swallow from it.
Kate's hand on his shoulder makes him stiffen slightly before he awkwardly patpats her hand back. Hod's really very bad at physical interaction, not because it weirds him out or anything, just that in 2500 years of life he can still count the number of people who've actually touched him in a manner that was nonviolent. The number is significantly less then the violent count. By an exponent or two. "Let us not try to summon the god of the hunt here." he says wryly, "He is one of the very few I find it difficult to evade." And Hod /still/ isn't big on Asgardians.
Kate Bishop shakes her head a little at mention of a Robin Hood competition. "Just had one with the guy whose name I stole when I took up the bow, actually. I think I've had my share of those for awhile." A grin is flashed before she looks down to her wrist regarding the watch there. "Speaking of I should go throw some rocks at his window to wake him up. Seriously not sure how that man survives on his own. You going to be okay, Hod?" Of course she checks with him before leaving. Just in case something were to happen she didn't want to be the last one he saw before vanishing. Er. Spent time with? That works. "Nice meeting you as well, Ares."
Ares looks upon Hod and he crosses his arms, taking a breath and laughing a bit. "Fair enough, fair enough. Besides…I have been rather relaxed as the God of War of late. I left Olympus, tired of my father's debauchery and my family's slandering of my name. Then I came here…this was about…oh, a century ago? Then I met a woman…had Phobos. I am trying to raise him so he does not become like me…and instead becomes whomever he chooses to be."
but then Katie seems to be leaving, and he gives her a wave as she does so, then he looks to Hod. "So then, an apprentice? or simply an ally?"
Hod nods his head at Kate, "Go and beat your boyfriend with sharp pointy sticks. I approve of your aggresive dating stance, keeps things from becoming stale." he quips lightly as Kate slips off into the night. He leans back a bit in his chair and sighs again, "Ally." he says after a long moments thought, "Perhaps one day a friend. I have nothing to teach the mortals Ares. I suppose I could show her battle, death," he makes a motion with his hand, "war. But in this day of mortal gods trapsing about with untold power of their own, what could she learn from me she could not learn from another?" he pauses then adds, "With depth perception." he looks a bit weary, and Ares can see that even though he is immortal, Hod clearly shows signs of the passage of time. There is gray in his beard, hair, where none should be, small single floating spots in the otherwise ebon hue, and the lines of his face are more pronounced then before, hard and worn.
Ares looks at Hod as he shakesh is head. "So I see. Gods exist for the benefit of helping the humans. When gods do not assist humans then…it all falls apart." he shakes his head. Ares is sharp enough to notice the effects of time and age upon poor Hod, no doubt part of the curse that Odin has afflicted him with when he cast him out of the Realm Eternal. "So tell me, why have you hidden from all eyes? Are you hunted?"
Hod snorts, "Exile for my people is like exile for yours, only no one locked our titans up in a prison." he points out, "At least, not one with decent enough guards. My father has made many enemies, and I carry his name." which pretty much sums up everything, "Also there's the whole 'only handicapped Aesir in all of eternity' thing I get to carry around. Because my life was to easy to start with." he finishes the beer he's been working on and motions for another from… well anyone that might be passing by. It's not like he can see the server, though funnily enough he does chose the proper time to signal.
Ares looks at Hod as he mentions the trapping of the titans. "Not my call, I would've just finished them off instead of letting them suffer in Tartaros for eternity." he shrugs a little bit, but then he looks at Hod for a short moment. "I like to think that in Odin's wisdom, there's a reason for anything. But then I remember that his wisdom is matched only by his cruelty." he remembers the tales of Odin's conquerings…the Asgard-Olympian conflicts, and many other things.
"But, that is in the past. Be lucky that you are alive. But maybe someday…you will regain what was lost."
Hod's expression darkens at the mention of his father… no, literally, his face darkens. Light dims as if something behind his glasses were drinking it in. It's not an overt effect, but it's there, harder shadows, deeper lines, "Our father's are both great big bags of dicks." he says simply, then shakes the whole thing off, bits of shadow flaking from his features and falling away into nothingness, "I can feel it, sometimes. Out there." he says, and there's a hint of longing in his tone, a need that mortals could never understand but surely Ares can at least empathize with. "I am not the Aesir I once was, and I do not mean in power. The man I was then was cool and distant, but young and naive too, all his power, to command the forces that he did, and still he bowed to the whims of Thor and his foolish coterie."
When the next beer arrives, full and the glass covered in condensation, he reaches out, his fingertips brushing along it's surface and instantly frost covers the glass entire, the head floating atop it instantly becoming snow, "It may be for the best that I do not possess the power I once did. I was cool, but now I feel cold, I was distant, but now I feel alone. My people do not handle the mixing of grudes and power with wisdom." he smirks, "See for example, Odin Borson." he makes another face, polishes off the ale in three large swallows, then reaches for his guitar again, "Gotta get back on the mic before people start asking why I'm not. Stick around, I'll pluck a couple out you at least will understand even if the rest of these people do not. I'm no Bragi, but after all these years I've gotten pretty good with this thing." and he pats about before plucking up his old beaten resonator, it's wooden body dented and scratched in numerous places, a couple of spots of rust showing up here and there on the cone.