2020-03-28 - Hot Goss featuring Hod


Hod and Jean do a little catch up and Hot Goss

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Sat Mar 28 05:02:14 2020
Location: The Disaster Zone

Related Logs


Theme Song



It's only been a few weeks since the mysterious blizzard rolled over NYC and buried it for a long weekend, dragging the city to a crashing halt. It's been a few weeks since Jean stopped by Hod's penthouse and found him in a state of mania, toying the weather patterns and summoning frost on every pane of glass he walked past. Since he accidentially froze the pipes in his fancy shower. Still, if one were hoping to find Hod, a guy known for not being found, it helps to know him well enough to realize one doesn't look for the newly rechristened god of winter, one listens.

The DZ is a shithole and it has been for sometime, which hasn't seemed to bother the blind man in the least. If one knows Hod well enough, or is simply lucky enough, and dares venture deep enough into the DZ, one has a fairly good chance of finding him there holding an impromptu concert for the broken and lost that populate the area. Not that he has adoring crowds or anything, this isn't the place and these aren't the people for that sort of thing. No. He sits alone on what appears to be the remains of a collapsed building front, once covered in billboards and flashy advertizements. A solid twenty feet above the street he's proped up against a bilboard that's been cracked into 3's with it's fall, forming a nice little spot to slouch in if one were so inclined. The metalic twang and chunk of a blues guitar carries out clearly over the block, the accustics rather decent all things considered. A blind man playing blues while sitting in the rubble of a destroyed building is admitedly cliche, but Hod makes it work for him as he sings softly.

Some student went out to the DZ to prove a point.
That same student also got themselves in trouble inside the DZ.

If anyone has ever seen anyone long-range pitch or hit a ball the style of the Hulk they would possibly see it in that moment. But yet, that ball would be a student. The student, who.. folded in half flew across the sky at a near break neck speed but not one that would at least get him hurt. The only, lasting sign of the student being there was the loud… 'eeeee' that trails after they soar past.

Then an explosion.
Was that a cheer?

No, it was the thing that.. whatever it was, echoed before it crawled back into its depths.

Jean wasn't -too- exhausted, it was fairly easy. Others were standing by to catch the student and to make sure that he got the medical attention he needed, telepathic instructions sent, as well as no. She doesn't feel like coming out just yet.

Mostly because, there was always something that lingered back there whenever she was near her friend, that magnetic pulling tell that sets her walking into the direction of where Hod remains, knowing she had gotten close due to the quiet sounds of the guitar. Kicking up into the air to fly now.. she approaches the broken down billboard but doesn't settle. Arms were across her chest like a disciplining mother; but truly? She was just listening.

"Don't let me interrupt." She says, and she meant it. She definitely wasn't going to settle just yet, let her fly to the blues.

Hod cocks his head slightly at hurteling student flying by none to quietly overhead but doesn't stop working the strings, a sort of bemused grimace on his face. The guitar is an old one, a bit dented and carrying a heavy patina, it's made entirely of metal and seems to project it's own sound farther then an acoustic guitar ought to. The song has a sort of haunting upbeat sound to it that calls back to music of a by gone decade. It's a bit to rocky to be pure blues, bit to blues to be rock, but it just… fits. Both the man and the location.

When he hears Jean's voice coming from on high his grimace becomes something more akin to a genuine smile and he continues on. His voice isn't beautiful by most standards, there's to many miles on it, to many wounds in the rasp and growl of the man to be considered pretty. But there's a sincerity and purity that makes beauty of an ugly thing. "It's been ten years and a thousand years, and look at the mess I'm in, a broken nose and a broken heart, an empty bottle of gin, well others sit and say, in their broken down Chevrolet, while I'm praying to myself, there's got to be another way.."

It was an enjoyable tune, Jean was slightly nodding her head as she remains high up, arms crossed. A quick mental scan of the area didn't show any bogies, so that and the music helped her to relax. Her arms drop to her sides as she kicks a foot up behind her, propelling her just a touch towards the fallen billboard. It takes a moment for her to find a decent setting, which she does after she dusts the place off to park her but upon. Though, what was that for? Cause she lays back now, arms behind her head to use as pillows, knees up and swaying back and forth to the tune.

Being in close proximity was a bit nice due to working up a bit of heat, so the briskness of the surrounding area of where Hod remains is refreshing. She waits until the verse is done before she asks, and if he doesn't bother answering, she doesn't mind. "What song is this?" It sounded neat. Almost a little bit of BB to her, but she could be wrong.

"That's one dream of mine, hitting the blues circuit. Bet there won't be any troubles there other than what they're singing and selling.."

Hod continues to pick the tune, but his singing takes a step back as he answers her question, "Ball n' Chain, originally made by Big Mama Thorton but no ones remembers that. Joplin made it famous a half decade later but the original is better if you ask me. Big Mama had a… quality, Joplin lacked." he continues to play for a time, not singing, just letting the guitar work it's magic as he ponders, or perhaps remembers, it's unclear.

"These days, you're prolly right. Back when-" he shakes his head, "I could play classical, but I ended up in some shit town in Texas in the summer of '19. War was just done, everyone felt alive and not all at the same time. There was a feel to America just…" he rubs his fingers together like he was fondling some fine fabric, "electric maybe? The 20's were just about to hit and every day felt like there were no limits. Until you end up in a dive bar in Texas listening to another blind guy play music that you didn't know you'd been waiting to hear for almost three millenia." his smile is sad, "Blind Lemon Jefferson. We got so drunk that night. And high. Turns out people aren't that fond of blind guys being happy, even less so when they're not the same race." his face screws up in memory. "Anyway. These days I'd be willing to bet it's safe as houses."

It was story time, Jean had already settled in, her eyes to the ruined skies over the DZ, then closes. It was almost as if she were attempting to imagine the music scene that day, and the laughter of the two blind men without attempting to pick those particular moments out of his head. They weren't hers to share.

"Now a days, people don't want to see deaf people happy in Florida." She quips. "They might mistake that shit for gang signs." She doesn't gesture, but the intent was there. No sense in gesturing when he couldn't even see it.

"This is a change of pace. Unlike last time.." She sits up then, being careful not to make herself fall off. A fall wouldn't be fatal, she'd just catch herself in time. "Probably. Though now a days in this world safe is a highly relative term. This? Us in the middle of.. well, this? We're considered safe. Others? Not so much."

There was a crack in the distance, it could have been thunder or a large rock falling onto another. Who knows.

Getting things from Hod's mind is… odd. Difficult for most psychics to begin with, though Jean isn't among them, but even getting the information doesn't mean it'll make sense. So much of how the mind processes information is visual, even in the mind. Hod's brain is a all scents and sounds and the feel of air currents on the skin, the taste of the air, a cacophany of sensory input all placed inside a great colorless void of nothing. Snippits are sure to leak out of his mind, they do with everyone, but making sense of them is difficult. He wasn't lying, the pair of them were pretty high and drunk, compounding the issue. Still. There's a flavor to his memories that could be fun if one could ride the waves without trying to make sense of them, wrestle them into submission perhaps.

Hod barks a single laugh, "Oh sure, we're safe." his tone is flat as he tilts his head, listening, "I count… fifteen people near by, can't imagine we're much safer here then anywhere else." he considers, "I mean, assuming we were normal people." one has to admit, the pair of them are safer then most people are no matter where they are. "So what brings you flying over my little concert Kiddo?" he adopted the use of the nickname shortly after they met, the first time she flew overhead in costume and he called out her name in a battle. Luckily Kate was there to explain the whole 'mask' thing to him, and he's adopted a nick name based communication method ever since. Saves on embarassing faux pas' by outing someone in public because you can't see them wearing spandex in bright colors.

"As I said, relative." She points out. She even does it, pointing towards the air.

"We're just ordinary people.., we don't know which way to go.." Jean quietly lets out, since this was a sing-songy mood she went ahead and did it. Her voice wasn't bad, but if she kept going and put her all into it, she was sure that the cats and dogs would howl and caterwail.

"So, quick story." She says, adjusting herself. Jean was full of gesturing in her older age, making circles and pointing this way and that. "One of the students got into one of those sorts of contests. The 'I'm better than you and I'm not a coward and let me prove it to you in the most insane way possible.' type of contests. He came out here looking for a fight. Found it. Couldn't get out of it. So they sent me." She shrugs her shoulders then, leaning back onto her personal slab, elbows a prop. "Part of my duties as a practicing psychologist is getting peoples asses out of a slang." She grins. "It's not, but still. Everyone was wrapped up in classes, I was free. It's a B day. English is on an A day. And I'm stalling on writing my dissertation."

Hod nods his head as she talks, fingers still picking away lightly at the strings, "I met Julius Caesae, not sure how normal I am." he points out in a wry tone of voice, "But fair enough." he smirks at her story, "I remember that age." he quips, "My brother led us to-" he shrugs the words away, "well… somewhere stupid. We got in over our heads, called for Father to send aid." there's a harder edge to his smile but it's buried under a sort of old acceptance, "He sent Munin. Who shit on my cloak. Wasn't even me that sent for help!" he sighs, "Was a new cloak too." pout.

"I wouldn't worry about your homework, it'll be there tomorrow and speaking as someone who knows, the English Language isn't that special on a whole and likely isn't worth investing more time in then is required to comminicate clearly with someone on a regular basis. Be lazier when you can, the lazy times are growing more and more rare as of late."

"I'd say you're a lot better than 'rooftop' you right now." She grins, but nods. "I think it's a male thing. Often times women do challenge each other but it's more or less designed in the safest of ways. Though.. gross too." She wrinkles her nose, because having your coat shit on? No fun.

"This is coming from the guy who quite possibly could recite some old quote in Sanskrit. And a guy who can afford to not work." She shifts this time, moving to her side to face away from him, her restless leg syndrome getting to her by way of her foot constantly thumping against the surface it rests on.

"Eventually, by monetary means, I'd like my own house. Maybe my own practice. I may even want to get married one day. Have a child or three. I wouldn't say it's the American dream or Jean's dream, not'a'all, but I figure once I get that? Then I can be lazy, chill the hell out. Move to Sweden. Or hell, vacation for two weeks in the Alaskan winter." She clears her throat, then 'ohs' quietly.

"We never really did finish that conversation by the way. About the new you, so to speak."

Hod shrugs, "I think it's a youth thing, male or no. Sif was with us, just as dumb as the rest of us were. Except B. He was always better." genuine smile there, slight as it is, "Spent two thousand five hundred and whatever years being so poor I went weeks without eating and often ate things long past their expieration because my stomach could manage it. I earned my money." pause, "Well not really, but I earned the luck that got it for me." he nods at that, liking the way that lays out better.

"Yeah, apparently I froze my shower and you left me there with exploded pips and icicles to explain to the super. Thanks for that." he muttermutters. "What do you want to know?"

"Fair point. But still, I'm going to forever believe it's a predominantly male thing. I think Sif is an anomaly." Which is a huge compliment, she might add!

Though, remembering their time back at his apartment, she couldn't help but laugh. And it was a good laugh too, one that came from the depths. "I.. I'm sorry!" She exclaims, her hands splayed after forcing herself to sit upright. "Listen, you were going on and on and I thought it was pretty funny. If I didn't know who you where and what you could do I'd assume your ass fell off due to frostbite!" She snorts accidentally, then coughs, patting against her chest. "Excuse me.." And tries to quiet enough so that she could get to the serious business.

"I want to know everything. And I want to know if this.. new.. 2020 Hod is permanent. And if everything that you hold dear is safe. Most importantly, are you okay?"

Hod snorts as she talks but pauses, even his playing, when she asks her questions. He tilts his head to the side and considers the query thoughtfully, "I don't know." he says finally. "The permanant thing? I think so. What reconnected me to Winter has no limits on it's power, it… forced open something my Father had closed. I'm not sure even he can close it again, as for safe?" he sneers, "Kiddo, there's a reason I don't keep friends and I havn't been married in four hundred years. Nothing I love is ever safe, best not to love things in the long run. Hold out as long as you can," he begins to play again, "but even we're weak to the urge from time to time. People, places, things, worm their way into your affections and then you're jsut stuck, waiting for the next thing to come along and destroy them all and leave you alone again." he makes a motion of a circle with his finger in the air, "Round and round we go." as for if he's okay? He merely shrugs, uncertainly.

Jean thinks about his words, her fingers tenting together as she allows her feet to swing back and forth. The soft playing catches her, and she sways slowly from left and right, the only sign she is going to speak is the sharp inhale of breath she takes. "Okay." Acceptance. "Everything dies." She says, concluding the statement of safety and how the world turns as it is. Everything dies, seemingly, except for Hod and his family.

"You kept me as a friend, though." She points out. "Sorta." At least she comes back, right? But that method of questioning is left alone as she shrugs her shoulders. "I'm not even sure if I want the pendant fixed. It has it's.. eeeh.." She says, eyes squinting whilst searching her brain for the words. "..magical.. finesse to it." But she can't wear it. "Do you promise to let me know when it's not okay? Mentally. Or anything else."

Hod continues to play and shifts slightly in his slouch against the billboard, "Yeah well, theres a buncha you that're growing on me. Tried to bail but for whatever reason I'm needed here, so…" he waves a dismissive hand, so here he stays. With the people and their incidious worming their way into his affections. Damn them all. "Still acting up?" he asks, sounding a little surprised before holding a hand out for it, the fingers curling in the classic 'gimme' gesture. "I'm not a hero Kiddo, I need help I'll let you know. Fair warning, that may very well put you up against some gods. Again."

Jean grins, if she were closer to him she'd lean against him all annoying like and say some weird shit that'll make him cringe. "Yeah." She says, finally twisting about, the sounds she makes is a little bit of a racket of her trying to stand without falling or flying. "Ggnn.. okay!" She pops up, right upon her feet. "Pretty sure I can empathy some crap and gain a God complex to be evenly matched." Nope. Not at all.

"Alright, hang on.."

She glances up towards the sky to scan, making sure that at least the pendant was in orbit. It was like a tether; a small strain of her TK keeps the pendant close near by. Not cloaked, so those that do happen to see it from their height would assume that an invisible person were sky-walking past their window.

She doesn't hold her hand out to catch it, only to lower it so that it floats right into the middle of his palm. "It's still a bit too cold. I can't wear it without burning myself out. Or just burning myself." She walks close now, just so that she could spy it in the palm of his hand. "Buuut.. leave a little bit there? For me?"

Hod closes his hand around it as if he could see it and there's a sudden snap in the air, a gust of wind a solid twenty degrees cooler then the day should allow. He seems to focus for a moment, then sets the guitar aside and cups both hands around the cube, an action that makes the cords on his forearms stand out, as if he were pushing against an unseen force. The lines of his face furrow slightly and he leans forward, baring his teeth before leaning down to speak open the smallest crack between his thumbs and whisper into the darkness inside.

Nothing happens.

Hod then nods once more, smiles slightly, and holds it out to Jean. The touch of Winter is gone from the cube, it's cool to the touch, but not more so then the backside of a pillow of a bathroom floor in the morning, and it's back to it's original color, a black to true it seems to actually swallow the light around it, making it apear two dimentional and flat to the naked eye. "There is no such thing as a little Winter." he says as the little pendant dangles from his fingers, "It is either Winter, or it is not. But there is such a thing as a little darkness. I'm not what I once was with the Shade, but /this/ I can still manage. You remember the rules, if you ever have need of me, put it in a dark place, your cupped hands will do, and speak my name into it. I'll hear you. Anywhere."

Jean watches as if it were some grand thing; leaning in a little bit too close so that she could watch the cup of his hands. She leans back as soon as he moves, putting on a nonchalant aire as if it were no big deal. But it truly was. Watching the 'work' up close was always fascinating, especially with a self professed God.

But nothing?

It was something, the slight smile told her so and the way he held it out to her. It was taken, examined by allowing the pendant to rest in her palm, closing it around her bare fingers just to test. It was clear, that if it did or has hurt in the past, she was a bit too used to it. Finally, she releases it and immediately slips it around her neck, patting it against her as she bounces by way of a rocking forth upon the ball of her feet, "Thanks!" It would seem as though her work was done here, and that she'd fly away, but she was close enough now to take a seat without disrupting his personal bubble, and said bubble of the guitar.

"I remember." She nods slightly. "You probably won't hear anything too terrible for a while. I haven't been getting into anything.. well…" She bobs her head back and forth, then frowns. "…save for that mix-up in Staten Island.." It was such a weird.. weird time..

Hod smirks, "That's what you get for going to Staten Island." he says pointedly. "You will notice that I myself did /not/ go there." It's best one doesn't start polymorphing Hod with magic. One never knows what one may get. "Still, you realize I could have gotten you out of that thing right?" he asks curiously. "I'm not saying it would have been any safer per say, but…" he waves a hand in a 'there you have it' sort of way. "In any case, thank you for avoiding mortal danger. I'm an old man you know, hearts not what it used to be."

"Hey, I was -ordered- there." Sort of. She was there to collect data. "I don't know why you weren't there. You would have loved what I had gotten into. Slavery of a town.. battle witches.." She bounces left and right as if listening to an invisible song. "I know you could have gotten me out.. but.. two words. Wolf pack." She snaps her fingers. "All mine. I had a -wolf pack- Hod. How often can anyone s..w..well.. who's not you.. how often can anyone say that they had a wolf pack?" She grins, then shrugs. "It was a war. Nothing I couldn't handle."

She cracks a little laugh, then gives him a harsh shoulder bump, one that he could take. "I met a guy going there. Pretty decent. Don't think he could handle the thought of you though. Human and all."

Hod just shakes his head, "Kids these days." he says flatly, "You know, there was a time slavery, witches going to battle, and people who controled wolves actually were a thing. They weren't called the Dark Ages because of heavy cloud cover I'll tell you that." one may remember the scars that have turned his back into a road map, "I didn't go because neither one of us needs to know what that spell would have done to me. I am not the god of puppy piles and kitten mewling." he points out. "Or. I wasn't. Whatever."

He rocks with the bump lightly, "Oh! So we've moved on from the guy who's named himself after a creature of myth with poor depth perception and onto someone new. What is it the kids say these days? Dammit. Girlie at the bar said it the oth-Ah! What is the 'Hot Goss'?" he over pronounces the last two words.

"I know. Ever hear of.." Well, she wouldn't tell him about -that-. She was sure he knewanyways. "So you weren't? I mean, well that means you -could- have been if you went. Right?" Another joke, but she really was curious to see. "Oddly enough, I turned into a fiery elven witch. I was puh-reet-tee cool lookin!" She was still bobbing. Still inciting danger, it could have been awesome!

"Cyclops you mean? Scott?" She asks. Then she shrugs her shoulders. "Well, I mean it didn't work out. We're not like penguins and mate for life you know." She wrinkles her nose, then sighs. "Alright, Hot Goss. That means hot gossip. If you ever listen to the television while.. well, you don't have one. But if you're within ear shot you'd probably hear some old broad on it just telling the latest 'news', which now a days, gossip. Especially when it deals with celebrities. Or heroes. What have you. Sometimes it's true, sometimes it's not, but it's damn interesting. Hot Goss."

Hod nods his head, "Uh-huh." he says, noticing that she clearly /didn't/ tell him who or what she was hinting at. He makes a point to NOT THINK ABOUT IT as hard as he can. It's a fine skill, not thinking about things. It's also an important one if you're the god of secrets and thinking to hard about one makes the information pop up in your head. A fact that's almost NEVER good. No one keeps delightfully harmless sweet secrets. Hard lesson learned.

There was an urge, an urge to spill the beans at that moment! "So hot goss! I'll give you an example! Did you hear that -someone- in the Baxter Building is on drugs? And took their best friend on some psychadelic trip that ruined the entire fifth floor of the building? People say that you can still hear the screaming of their 'landlord' to this day." She doesn't stop, she just keeps going. "But that's an example of hot goss. I really need to get you a printed copy in braille of everything that's added to the urban dictionary, though I'm pretty sure something like that's not in the urban dictionary. It's too low key and low brow. Not unlike a dirty sanchez, I'd tell you what that means but I feel like it's one of those things you have to experience."

She pauses, then frowns.

"Extremely far away from me. Anyways, mind if I use your place or my place that was yours to actually finally get down to writing my dissertation, I can probably get it done in a week especially if I don't have any interference. You know.." Babble babble babble ".. I have an idea I want to run by you one day but I think I have to talk to someone about it, but it's going to cost a pretty penny so I probably shouldn't ask.." Babble.. babble.. womp womp..

Hod barks a single laugh, "Musta been one hellvua trip. Good for them. I have a general distaste for landlords as a rule." he sets the guitar down at his feet, sliding it into an old beaten up case that's seen much maintenance to keep it working. "I wouldn't worry about it, languages hold no mystery for me, not even their new evolutions. I will admit that the current generation is pushing my will to live a bit with their personal additions."

He lets her talk herself out with a quiet stoic patience, admitting to himself its the least he owes her. It's not like she's not sat with him while he was sloshed in the park a time or three, listening to his mopey stories and sad tales. He owes her. "It's yours until you don't need it anymore." he says simply, "So long as I don't return to find you've ruined my vynil collection we can remain friends."

"See, hot goss. It sounds funny, and half the time it ain't true." She points out, so clearly what she said was a goddamned lie.

Her babbling served a point, the less Hod focused on that secret .. or not so secret she kept, the less she'd be inclined to tell him about it. Impulse control is a damned thing. And also, she was kidding about the apartment.

"I won't ruin it. I'd treat it like gold. Play them once, give them a rest for a day, play them again.. no scratching." She looks down from the billboard, then clicks her teeth. "I need to leave. Are you going to stay here or do you want to come with?"

Hod chuckles at her way of explaining things, "Alright Kiddo, keep your secrets I don't wanna know. Hell, I work /really/ hard at not knowing stuff." he pulls a flask from his hip and puts it to his lips for a trio of heavy pulls before putting it back. "Naw. You go on. There's some people here abouts I need to check on." he turns and sort of 'looks' around, his head turning this way and that, "The broken and lost are my people and I've been neglecting them. Go on, do whatever it is you do. We'll catch up soon enough I'm sure."

"You'll meet him one day. Soon I hope." A lot of prepping would need to go into that meet, that was for damn sure. She watches him carefully, thanking whatever god there was that he couldn't see the concern on her face. She even tugs in that empathy, shutting it down to make sure that the bloody gift doesn't leak from her pores. "Alright." She says, leaning forward. "I'll come back in about an hour or two if you're still here to drop off dinner. Found a great place in Harlem that sells authentic Jamaican Cuisine."

The further lean foward allows her to fall from her spot upon the billboard, taking to the air and shooting off into the distance before Hod could say or even hint at not being hungry.

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