Summary:Trying to quench some of Astryds thrill seeking behaviour, Fenris takes her and Sif to a Rodeo. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Not everything with Fenris is quests and monsters and fighting the manipulations of fate. Only… most things. But not today. No today Astryd had Insisted upon finding Sif and 'doing something fun.' Fenris had talked her out of the more daring and potentially destructive ideas of fun, like going to find someone to pick a fight with, and instead convinced her that what she really wanted to do was participate in a rodeo. It had actually taken him a bit of looking to locate one but hey. Hog tying bulls and riding horses. There's a lot of aleticism in play here. There is always the risk that Astryd or Sif will try to wrestle a bull but compared to picking a fight with Nanuk, he'll take that.
This rodeo is in Arizona. It is less humid here than in New York but every bit as cold. Well. It is a desert.
A rodeo. Astryd hasn't seen a rodeo in many years now - not that it had really been thing of hers previously. Today though, the idea of a rodeo certainly appeals to her.
Dressed in jeans and checkered shirt, a hat covering her golden locks, the Valkyrie almost looks the part in this scene.
"They will let us ride, Fenris." She's saying to the Old Wolf, grey eyes nearly shining with anticipation.
Surfing had been fun but this will better. A way to pit her skills against nature.
Sif is quite familiar with testing one's mettle against beasts of various sorts. What she does not understand is the need for very specific attire — that isn't armor — to do so. The boots are oddly ornate but protective enough, the jeans are a more faded blue than the ones she usually wears and held up with a leather belt sturdy enough be used with her armor in the future. The shirt with intersecting stripes is baffling to look at but comfortable enough, and thankfully mostly hidden by a jacket made from the same faded blue fabric as the trousers. She can tell it would be inadequate to the weather, but was advised to choose one lined with the skin from a recently shorn sheep.
She flatly drew the line at the frankly pointless (in her mind) headgear.
"Ride?" she asks Astryd. "I thought Midgardians perceived horses as antiquated and primitive technology." Yes, they are still used in Asgard, but not to the exclusion of all else.
"They do. This is done as sport and a testament of skill both of the rider and the trainer of the horses."
Fenris had declined to participate in the riding and rustling of the cattle. This would have severely discomfited the cattle. As it stands his presence might spook them a bit. But he's going to watch all the same. He'll be in the stands with this fat-popped corn that the locals seem to like to snack on. This one is mixed with caramel and nuts. Mmmmm crackerjack.
"Wonderful. I do believe you'll be up soon but there are a few events first. Shall we find seats until you're ready to go?"
Indeed there are events first and Sif gets an eyeful of what this sport involves. There's barrel racing, team roping, calf roping, bronc riding. Even bull riding. The bulls do not appear to appreciate being ridden and sometimes repay the rider for the indignity.
That takes about forty minutes. And then it's time.
"Ladies and Gentlemen for a special exhibition event, all the way from Asgard for Steer Wrestling it's Lady Sif and Assssssstryyyyyyyddddd!"
The crowd starts to cheer. There's not a few wolf whistles too. None of them are from Fenris. His whistles sound different.
Astryd winds her arm through Fenris, certainly getting into the spirit of things at the Rodeo. "They do, Lady Sif. Many would say that those here are relics of another age, many think that Midgard has evolved beyond such primitive entertainments." Astryd seems to disagree and is happy they haven't.
Declining any food or drink, the blonde watches the events carefully - cheering and whistling the winners.
As they're names are called, the blonde stands and makes her way to the horses that have been allocated for them. The whistles get blown kisses and a wave of her hat. She's totally loving this.
"When you're ready …"
Sif finds that she's honestly fascinated by the amount of skill shown by the Midgardians riding the oddly small horses at full gallop around objects in the arena, and then the various skills exhibited with lengths of rope.
The bull riding has her wincing occasionally, both for the riders and for the bulls. It seems unnecessary and brutal.
And then the announcement comes across and her eyes go wide as she turns to look at the other two. "Wha—" She doesn't really get a chance to complain as she follows the Valkyr to where the horses set aside for them are. Oh thank the Norns, they're not being given those weirdly tiny equines.
The horses are indeed enormous. They're still earth horses but these are not little mustangs or arabians. No, something with bigger bones was needed. And no one would dream of giving Sif or Astryd a pony.
Normally the steers used for this are also quite tiny. But not so for these two. The two bulls that are released are full grown and not only quite large but also fairly cantankerous. That might not have been entirely on purpose but Fenris' presence ensures that they're spooked…
They bolt straight out of the pens and for the other side of the riding space.
"Didn't I tell you, Lady Sif?" Astryd looks to her friend with a bright smile. "This will be fun!" The Valkyr approaches the horse set aside for her with respect, petting it's nose and scritching its ears before mounting.
Blowing a kiss to Fenris, the blonde sets herself and nods. She's ready.
Then they're moving, out the gate and across the arena. "Yeee haaaa" The horse isn't quite as quick as it could be given its size but it moves fast enough to catch the bulls.
Guiding the horse with her knees, Astryd leans out to try to snag the horns of one of the beasts. Aiming to pull the head into the horse so she can slide from the saddle and wrestle the thing.
Sif looks at Astryd VERY skeptically. She's not worried about injuries, it's the Valkyr's increasingly atypical behavior that has her worrying.
She also takes a moment to let the charger get used to her before settling into the unaccustomed saddle. The stirrups she completely ignores, which likely earns her some headshakes from the Midgardians there to assist them.
Then, they're off. Astryd's yell is not as much of a surprise as it might have been considering that others have done similar already, and then there's the steer she's meant to take off its feet.
She is inwardly glad she insisted on wearing her vambraces under the blue jacket.
Not really knowing the proper technique for this, she simply flings herself off of the horse once she's close enough to the bull, aiming to lock her arms around its horns or its neck, whichever turns out to be easier. She suspect that this will be easier than wrestling a bilgesnipe.
It certainly looks like it will be. The additional weight of the Asgardians staggers the bulls more than a human might and given that Sif just jumps on hers (to the cheers of the crowd) that stagger is significant indeed. Sif manages to get hers around the neck. Astryd by the horns. As the horses peel off that just leaves the bulls. Which aren't TOO hard to wrestle down.
And the crowd cheers. But as they do the bulls start to struggle. And is it just them or… are the bulls actually getting a bit stronger?
"Whoa boy…." Astryd calls out, thoroughly enjoying herself as the situation focusses on just her and the bull. This makes her feel alive, gives her purpose. She can do anything, can't she? Twisting the poor creatures head by the horns, the blonde Valkyr throws her weight on the outside edge of it.
Deal with that.
It's take a moment for the fact that the Bull is getting stronger to register, a frown creasing her brow. That's ok - she'll just pin it down. She's strong and heavy. This isn't like fighting a Jotun.
Sif takes a moment to adjust the way she's holding the steer down, not wanting to choke the poor creature or break its neck. And then, holding it still becomes more difficult, to the point that she's honestly worried that she'll kill the beast if she uses any more strength to keep it still.
"Astryd, are these beasts supposed to gain strength?" Please say yes.
Fenris slowly stands. He can see what's happening and he quickly leaves the stands. Someone is making mischief. He's just going to have to hope that Astryd and Sif can keep things contained while he's dealing with it.
The one Sif has starts to thrash and bends in a way that SHOULD break it. But it doesn't break. It's eyes go utterly red and it snorts steam. Then it PUSHES against her. Okay. It's not stronger than she is. But it's getting up there. This is still not like wrestling a bilgesnipe. But bilgesnipes don't try to push her onto her back so they can get up.
Astryd has a similar problem. Red eyes. Snorting steam. It's getting bigger too. When it bellows it sounds a lot more like brass horns than the roar of a beast. The crowd cheers. They're not aware that something unusual is happening. Someone might be keeping them from realizing.
Sif and Astryd have got to keep these things from the crowd. It would be good if they put on a show while doing it.
"No Lady Sif, they should not." Astryd calls out, the hat knocked from her head and flattened on the ground. Her pale hair catches what sunlight there is as she wrestles. Then the damn things snorts steam. "Is suspect we have some trouble."
She can't see Fenris at the moment but he's astute and should see what's happening here.
Her bull tosses its head and sends her tumbling over it - still holding the horns so the thing flips with her as well. It can try to get free as the blonde draws herself to her knees - trying to hold it's head down as she stands herself.
Sif is truly disconcerted by the fact that this beast is vying to defeat her leverage against it, and now she's sure this isn't normal. And Astryd confirms it.
Uttering a far from polite curse, she lets the beast have a little room to move, but also uses that movement to get a better grip around the thing's neck. Now, if she can manage to reach the knife sheathed under her left vambrace…
The skin of the beasts heats up for both women and it starts to… harden. It's like bronze now. Flexible bronze but bronze all the same. The horns are curving upward and either or both women might recognize this. This is a Cretan bull. Both of these bulls have been turned into Cretan bulls. Amazingly they still haven't been able to rise yet. But they both have one trick left.
Sif's bull tries to toss her. Literally tries to flip its head and get her to fly off and let go. That may not work. She may well hold on and if she does she should be able to get this thing's feet out from under it.
Astryd is already tossed but recovers her feet. So her bull just snorts fire at her ankle. Petty, but you know. Also hot.
The crowd is still cheering.
Astryd doesn't move her ankle quite fast enough - the bulls gout of flame catching it. That *hurts*. The Valkyr snarls and reaches for that hair pin she wears and hesitating.
"Someone doesn't know their pantheons very well." She quips. If Fenris has found what or who is doing this, he better act quick.
Astryd lunges as the bull charges her, grasping its horns again and flipping it over. She goes down as it does, grunting in pain.
She twists hard. If the creatures neck snaps. So be it.
Without both hands to keep her leverage against the now bilgesnipe-strong steer, Sif knows she has to act fast. Hooking one leg around the beast's front legs in an attempt to keep it from moving about, she loses a second or two struggling to get her knife free of the jacket sleeve, ultimately slicing through the denim cuff unintentionally as she yanks the blade clear.
Apologies to anyone with delicate sensibilities out there… She takes the blade to the steer's neck, aiming to slice an artery there so the beast dies quickly.
Like taking down a bilgesnipe.
Astryd's creature's neck does NOT snap. It bends improbably but does not snap. She does get it flipped onto it's back though which buys her a few moments. As for Sif? Her knife cuts the bronze skin and it starts to bleed, but not blood. Molten bronze. Which would become a problem quite quickly, but…
Something happens. Stops. There might have been a 'crunching' sound somewhere. But the bulls begin to weaken. The bronze fades. They shrink. Their horns return to normal. And they stop struggling.
Sif's is still alive even… somehow. How is not quite clear.
The crowd goes absolutely wild.
"Absolutely astounding display of horsemanship and strength. Let's give it up for the Ladies from Asgard!"
Sif and Astryd get a standing ovation. The crowd looks like it has no idea what happened.
Fenris reappears at the gate near where the animals are let in, wiping his mouth with a handkercheif and giving the other two a thumbs up. Take a bow ladies. You've earned it. Also, everything is well.
They're going to be all over local news and social media this afternoon. That should be interesting when the fan mail starts arriving at the Embassy for Sif…
"So. I have to ask." One of the rodeo organizers says as he comes up to shake both women's hands. "… d'ya wanna keep the horses?"
Astryd grunts again as the bulls neck just bends. Snarling, she struggles to hold it. This is a problem. Beating these things aren't killable and Astryd really doesn't want to draw her sword.
And then the bulls return to normal. When hers stops struggling, Astryd releases, grey eyes looking for Fenris - a big smile in his direction when he appears.
"Keep the horses? I suppose that means you don't have somewhere to keep them now we are done. We will take them if that is the case." She'll get Fenris to find somewhere they can release them. He'll just roll his eyes at her later.
"Well fought, Lady Sif. Wasn't that fun?"
"So, what are we going to do next?"
As soon as the steer stops struggling, Sif eases up on it. The molten bronze was a shock, but she can't say she's upset that the unwitting beast is still alive and seemingly none the worse for wear.
Finally, she's able to let the creature go completely, giving it a gentle pat on the rump as it moves away before sheathing her knife again.
The horses? Sif looks stymied, but Astryd answers first. She can't say she'd refuse so generous an offer. One never knows when a creature big enough to ride will be needed.
"Next? Astryd…"
"We do, it's jus' that they're not really show horses and we wouldn't have much use for 'em. If you lovely ladies would like to take 'em, I think with that show you've definitely earned 'em. And anyway then we get to say we gave 'em to you. So everyone wins."
Fenris can indeed find places to stable or release horses and as it happens the Embassy does have space for animals like that as well.
"Next, Astryd, we're going to get something to drink. I need to wash my mouth out." They'll come pick up the horses later. Sif and Astryd can discuss who gets which one.
And with that the Old Wolf turns. He knows exactly where there's a bar around here and he's headed right for it.