2020-02-13 - Mr. Snow


The God of Winter visits Betty.

Log Info:

Storyteller: {$storyteller}
Date: {$date}
Location: Rooftop, Betty's Apartment, Brooklyn NYC

Related Logs


Theme Song



New York City - Brooklyn to be exact, on a certain rooftop crowning a certain reporter/priestess' apartment complex. The night is fresh and cold with the heavy promise of snow in the near future. For the time being, the world below on streetlevel is calm, but all it needs is that kick of activity to shatter the silence. Upon the rooftop where a make-shift gym has been put in place, Betty is hard at work attempting to teach a boxing dummy who's boss. Though, it's not with her fists - it's with sword and shield. Braided and beaded hair up and out of the way, wearing light attire as steam rolls off her form, the woman goes through the motions of stances and strikes, all courtesy of her mentor, Lady Sif.

With voice and sound unrestained, she calls out when strikes land, her breathing flows casting hot puffs of white into the atmosphere above. Somewhere in there are words, old words, recited like a child might when studying for a pending test.

The cold becomes colder and the snow that was threatening follows through on it's threats in a rather spectacular fashion, big thick fluffy flakes begin falling from the sky. To big to be slow, they land with barely audible whispered poofs on any surface they hit. The wind kicks up a bit as well, causing them to snake this way and that through the air, first real incling of a winter storm that's been toying around the edges of the city's weather for the better portion of a week now. "You shouldn't cry out when you hit." says a voice from the shadows, "Gives away your possition, does almost nothing to scare your enemy, wastes breath you won't be able to afford when the fight is truely on. Sif will teach you how to handle the blade, but how to make it work for /you/ will be different. You aren't one of Them. You don't have unlimited reserves to draw upon, you can't afford to waste air or call attention to yourself. Smart. Clever. Dirty. That's how you win."

Hod steps from the shadows and he looks a little wild. His hair's not been cut, which wouldn't be weird except every time she's met him he's been careful about his appearance. Well. Mostly. His clothing looks frayed at the edges, dirty. His glasses are on, but they're smudged a bit. Then again, given how he drinks maybe it's just been a rough few night.

Betty Brant stalls as the snow starts to fall - one fat puff of pillowy frozen water landing on her target. It causes her to smile, she always did love winter. Lowering her blade and guard, she rests her head back and simply breathes in. The air was cleaning up here, at least a bit anyway. Hearing the voice, she blinks and turns, facing the darkness and the figure stepping from it. Smirking, she nods. "Fair." It was good advice. "Most methods of self-defense are all into the use of voice. If anything, as a direction of force. I understand what you're saying, though." A finger up, she glances around the side of the target. It had a few cuts in it already. "I…yeah, smart, clever and dirty? Frank taught me a thing or two about that. It's in the brain banks, I promise."

Setting her weapons down, the woman sheening with a light haze of sweat strides in his direction. "Do I call you Lord again or still simply Hod?" A pause. "Can I get you anything? I have a stash of clothes in my apartment. You're free to the shower and anything I have."

Hod shakes his head, "The shouting in self defense is designed to teach you to exhale with every blow, it's a trick, forces you to keep breathing. But once you know that, you don't need it anymore. Strike. Breath. Strike. Breath. Almost every fight you lose will happen because you gased out before the other guy. That one punch knock out shit is for TV and the occasional fight with a pro. Real life, most fights last twenty to forty seconds, seconds spent in a sprint, giving everything you have has hard as you can as fast as you can until you don't have anything left. First one to slow down?" he makes a thbbt noise. "Breath, don't shout. Spend your energy wisely, going sheild and sword is more defensible, but also more taxing. Why those weapons in a world with guns I'll never know, but hey, you do you I guess."

He moves over to a ledge and plops down on it, headless of the snow already starting to accumulate there. Damn. It's coming down fast now. "Lord? Why?" he asks flatly, "Because I am a fraction of my self returned?" he makes a rude noise and is quiet for a moment, "But the sentiment is appreciated. No. I will never be what I was. But this little bit is…." and a rare smile slips through the black of his beard, "more then I had hoped for."

"Good training is training, I don't care what tools are being used. I still have a handcanon at the ready, I assure you." Very true. Allowing him to walk as he'd like, she watches after him with the slow glide of her warm eyes. "Thank you for the advice. I'll take better care of my breathing." Eventually, she follows after him and moves to sit before him. The soak would start soaking through shortly enough, but for the moment the woman seems fine.

"It's beautiful. Thank you for allowing me to see it." The snow? His powers? Either way, her voice is genuine and grateful. "A number of us will never be what we were before. I think, in time, that's good. It allows us to be something more. Something better perhaps." Pause. "Can I get you anything, Hod? I haven't seen you in awhile."

Hod's expression becomes dour as she speaks, "Stop." he says flatly, "Just stop." his hand makes a cutting motion in the air, "I'm not one of them, so stop. All it will do is make me angry and none of us can afford that right now. And you're right. I can clearly become more then a Prince of interstellar royalty possessing abilities great enough to have my name whispered across the Realms in fear by enemies to numerous to count. I can become," he pauses for dramatic effect, "a drunken barman!" dun dun duuuuun! He waves a hand throught he air as if it were unveiling a marquee, "Ooo! Or a slave. Those were good times. Wait. Murderer? That was okay, paid pretty good. Scullery maid was a shit job though, generally speaking. Blacksmithing was great, except the whole part where a blind man in a place of fire and straw inevitably leads to tears. And no more village." he shrugs, "You're right. Much better." Ah. there's bitter Hod. This feels much more familiar. "Why am I here Brant?" he asks suddenly.

"Beats the fuck out of me. I didn't call you here." Betty explains and pulls up and away. Turning, she brushes off a few slick patches off her backside and gathers up her practice weapons once more. "Hospitality offered, you don't have to take any of it." Soon enough, he'll hear her going through the motions once more. This time, her breathing is more controlled and no unnecessary sounds come from her lips. The words, do, however. That practice as before.

Hod snorts, "Well /something/ did. I didn't wander onto your rooftop for my health." the practice dummy is already two inches thick with snow by the time she returns to it, and the temperature is dipping towards the low 20's with a vengence. He listens to the sounds of her practice without making additional noise of his own. A glance will show that the snow falls on all things equally, and he's already growing a thick layer of his own.

"Maybe you came to see what I was up to. Though, I doubt that. You and I don't get on, not for lack of trying on my part." A shrug, she continues moving, her hits becoming harder and harder, shaking the dummy until the snow shifts off to be replaced by new flakes. "You get a bit of yourself back and you're still a cunt." Then she pauses and drinks in a deep, cold breath.

Turning in place, she looks his way. "Don't misunderstand me. I'm grateful and thankful for everything you've ever done for me. The aid you've given me and even the advice. That's why I'll never turn you away. I made a promise to help you and yours and that includes you. I'm sure there's someone out there that takes pity on you in just the right way that actually makes you a touch happy. Sorry that's not me, Hod. I meant it when I said if you need anything, I'll provide it." Beat. "I didn't bring you here. Why did /you/ come here?"

Hod shakes his head, "Don't take it personal, I just don't like the sycophantism that drips from your words or actions when you're around beings I know are as base and cruel as any human being that walks the earth. More, really. My family is staffed overwhelmingly with cruel sadistic envious toads with to much power and to high an opinion of themselves… and here you are, offering up prayers to them. It's demeaning to both parties."

He shakes his head slightly in dismay, causing a small avalanche from his brow to fall down into his lap, "I have met a dozen mortals with power to dward my own, why do you not pray to them? Offer them your … whatever this is. Adoration? Worship? Fear?"

"You think I'm being nice to you for myself?" She blinks and quirks a brow. "Hod, even if I didn't know who or what you were, I'd still offer you anything I had. I didn't get that from any teachings of Gods or fables - I got that from my mom. Long, long before I met any of you. Don't have to worship anyone to not be a shit person."

Still with weapon in hand, she looks him over. Calming herself, she swallows. "If you want to talk, we can talk. Would you like to go inside with me at least?"

Hod shakes his head again, "I think you're nice to me because you don't know how not to be, which is why I won't let you. There is a line between shit person and victim, and you twiddle along it daily without cause. The others will feed this side of you, your heroes will shower you with taciturn praise. I was not the god of warmth and soft beds and comfy blankets. That's my brother. He would /adore/ you. I'm the other one. I teach you that the world doesn't care," a blast of wind rips down out of the sky with force enough to lift the snow from the ground and blind anyone from seeing more then three feet in front of their face, "that it will hurt you if it can't kill you and it will /always/ try to kill you. Kindness is like any weapon, you use it to fend of the Enemy, but if you use it without caution then the Enemy will turn it back upon you and carve you up for dinner. Be kind, not blind. We already have one of those too, and he's an asshole."

"I'm not nice to you all the time, Hod. I remember calling you on your bullshit a time or two already. If it helps, you're not the only one of your kind I've done that to. I'm nice to you because it's what you do for someone. You offer help if you can give it, and I wish to give it, even to someone like you. Especially to someone like you would could use some kindness after everything you've been through."

Feeling that pressure and cut of cold, she lowers her head and closes her eyes. There's an odd shimmer about her, the off cut of a hiss upon the air as if something was starting to coil around her legs that doesn't quite finish. Magic, no doubt about it. "Do you hate them all so much? Everyone of your family save your brother? Are they all such horrible things that aren't simply chained down by fate like you were? Are?" A beat, that shimmer continues to curl around her legs.

Hod frowns, "You've no idea what they were like." he says simply, and there's a glimmer of that anger in his tone, "Before me no Aesir or Vanir had ever been born deformed. Never. In the entire history of our people I am the first. We do not have a word for the condition, to be less then, to be mishapen. We do now. It is a derivation of my name." he says flatly. "They did not possess a word for ugly in conjunction with out own people. For others? Yes. For us? No. For none have ever been ugly. Ever. Then there I was. Offering them a chance to create new language." the temperature drops farther and frost skitters it's way visibly across flat surfaces and the snow moves from thick fluffy flakes to small sharp ones that sting on contact.

"Remember what your high school was like? How cruel could your classmates be to those who were different? And when they were cruel, did not the adults steps in, perhaps not always, but occasionally, assist the targeted ones so that they would know support?" he doesn't wait for an answer, he knows it already, "Now imagine there is only one child in a world of perfect people who only honor what is beautiful and strong. Imagine that child's abuse is not only ignored by the adults around them, but encouraged, by their inactive defense and active joining in of the fun. Imagine your-what is your word? Bullies. Imagine your bullies possessed the power to hurl vehicles through the air, summon vast magical power on a whim. Can you grasp all of that? Now, if you can imagine what that is like, if you can shape your mind around the smallest /fraction/ of that… Now try to imagine it for five. Hundred. Years."

He's not breathing hard and he's not raised his voice, but the storm causes the clouds to swirl and ice to begin to form on everything around them. He has to take a moment, grip the Power, reign it in. But it's so very hard. It takes time. "Sorry." he says when the wind dies down and the flakes return to just big fat fluffy ones. Though, the bitter cold remains, "This is bringing up… stuff. The last time I could hear Winter-" he doesn't finish the sentence. It was a long time ago and the memories never fade with his kind. "You should go." he says finally. "Inside. I have a feeling it's going to be," he turns his glassed gaze skyward as if checking the clouds, "a bad couple of nights."

"No, I don't know. I could never know. All I can know is how I can act toward you." As the chill and wind kick about, her hair shifts and flutters. The ice crackles and pops as that astral serpent continues to coil around the woman still simply standing there. "I remember bullies, but I had to drop out of high-school. Didn't matter. Bullies broke my arm and put my mom in the hospital for the rest of her life. I'm not saying what-so-ever that I've suffered like you have, Hod. I am saying I want to try and relate to you. Help you. Give you some comfort in this world"

As he calms, the serpent starts to pull away, shifting and tendrilling down her form until that shimmer of arcana is gone. "Hod, I am where I am now because of the choices I've made. I'm thankful for your concern but maybe, just maybe, there's been a change somewhere through history."

Weapons down, hand up, she moves to touch his arm but reconsiders at the last moment. She is near, however. "You should come inside, too. At least for a little while." Beat. "Please."

Hod snorts, "Change." he pushes himself to hsi feet and the snow that's almost made him disappear from view under the harsh winds all falls away. He doesn't seem to notice, "Maybe it came, maybe it didn't. But it came fourteen true freinds, three wives, and seven children to fucking late." if that is the total sum of people he's managed to care for in millenia, there's likely a very good chance he's not the cuddling sort. "If I focus on history I may try to kill them." he says honestly, "Future isn't any better honestly." he admits, "So working on right now for awhile. See how that pans out."

He shakes his head at her offer, "Inside is a bad idea, unless you think your landlord is okay with blizzard damage inside the building. I imagine not. I'm going to go. I have to get a handle ont his before something bad happens."

Frowning, she steps back. Lowering her gaze, she gives him space and then looks up. "Hod," she calls gently. "I'm not sure if it matters or not, but please know I don't hate you. Annoyed and upset sometimes, yes, but I just…I'm angry because you deserve better. No one should suffer like that." A pause. "Maybe, in time, you can see me as a friend, too."

Hod shakes his head again at her words, and the smile on his lips is a dark and hateful thing, "You don't wanna be my friend Brant. They all die badly." then he snorts and starts to move towards the edge of the building, tossing his legs over the lip, "Funny thing is, it's exactly what I deserve." and then he vanishes over the edge into the night.

A fact made less magical by the almost immediate sound of his feet hitting the metal of the fire escape and his slow careful decent down it to the alley far below. What? You thought he was gonna vanish or something?

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