Summary:Hod fills Gwen in on a little secret. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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The evening is hot and muggy and all around unpleasent honestly. People who aren't from there always think New York is cold, but that's just a lie. Summer hits there just like anywhere else and like anywhere else with lots of water around it, humidity is sure to follow. Today's one of those days. For all of that, Hod appears as nonplussed by the weather as he does about most things that happen, and as the afternoon rush gives way to the lull before the storm that is the evening rush, he wads up the bartowel in his hand and tosses it atop the polished wood. The bar is quiet, and in the back the sounds of Luke or Becca or /someone/ banging about can be heard, prepping something or other. He takes a breath and lets it out slow before giving himself a firm nod, "Come on girlie," he says as Gwen passes, "we need to have a talk and puttin' it off just isn't viable anymore."
He doesn't wait for her to acknowledge the comment, he just feels his way to the doors that lead to the kitchen and slips them into the back.
Gwen is busy moving between tables, but at this point they're all clean and there's only two people hanging around taking up space but not really generating any actual business, they're just… there, so at this point she's given up trying to approach them about food or drinks or, y'know, something that might generate a little extra tipping. (One of them is known not to tip anyway, he just writes Bible verses on his receipts like somehow that pays for tuition or something.)
Of course, when Hod summons her into the kitchen for 'a talk', that just results in a raised eyebrow. "You know," she points out, "Just… so we're clear, my Dad already told me all about the birds and the bees, in case that's what you were on about, and that was awkward enough. I might not have a boyfriend but I do understand how it works, y'know."
Hod snorts, "You're like fourteen years old, you don't have a /clue/ how that works yet." he counters as he heads into the back. Along the way he plucks up his cane and begins to let it sway before him almost lazily as he heads towards door to the fridge, "Me and Luke had a chat, figured it was time you and I had a similar one." He reaches for the door to the walk in cooler and yanks on the handle, opening it a bit, "Come on, this is gonna be a bit of a walk and it's gonna be weird."
hat little Spidey Sense buzz that Gwen's had around Hod for the last few months? It makes with the renewed tingles as he nods towards the door. "In ya go."
"I'm nineteen," Gwen protests, "That's older than fourteen by an order of magnitude. I realize that by the time you get to a hundred and six the distinction might be academic, but I'm still in the pre-twenty era and for me it's a long time."
She pauses as Hod opens the door to the cooler, and not just because she's wearing a shirt that leaves her midriff bare along with a skirt that doesn't go as far down as her knees. The sudden spike of her danger sense gives her pause as well. But, hey; she's a Spider, and if it really came down to it, she could punch her way out of a freezer.
"Cryptic," she observes, as she steps in and wanders inwards, waiting for Hod to follow her in. "Also, the freezer is kind of a weird place for a talk, so… I am ready for weird. Lay it on me."
And it would be. If they were in a freezer. Hod walks in behind her and the door closes with a click, sending the room into darkness. A warm. Muggy. Darkness. "Come on." he says, opening another door to his left, which is weird cause… there's no door to the left inside the freezer, and steps out into a kitchen. But not Luke's kitchen. No. This one is full of steel prep tables and white people cooking, all of whom stop to stare at Hod as he steps out into their kitchen, "I know right?" he says into the awkward silence as if he could see the strangers there, "This city is just packed with weird shit." he says, tossing his hands upward in a 'whaddayagonnado' gesture before he turns and starts walking towards the back of the kitchen as if this was totally normal, cane swinging side to side in front of him. "Keep up kid! I don't have time for you to gawk. And it's rude." And then he's rounding a corner and passing through another door presumably into the back hall.
"I'm not gawking," Gwen protests. She was totally gawking. Jaw gone slack and everything. She hurries to catch up, and all of a sudden, regrets leaving her backpack with her superhero stuff, like say her webshooters, behind. A year ago she never would've thought she'd depend so much on being able to shoot glorified taffy string at people, but now it's like she can't go anywhere without the things. Just in case!
"I'm keeping up! Don't worry, I can keep up." She falls into step beside Hod, and looks sideways at him with renewed… confusion. "So, you never told me before that you have… I'm guessing this is a secret pocket dimension full of chef-people that you keep pinched off from the Universe as a whole? But… I mean, I know you can't be using it all the time because I have personally witnissed you cooking burgers and steak and escargot and stuff." She pauses, taking another look around and totally gawking. "This does seem convenient, though. Why do you have a pocket dimension that you access through Luke's freezer?"
This door puts Gwen into a small shack like shop that, from the smell, she can instantly peg as a bait shop. Those little shops that are all over the docks in the spring and summer, the kind old men and tourists use to buy the stuff they use to fish off the peirs. Hod makes a face, "Dead stuff. So very aluring." he mutters as he steps out of the bait shop and begins walking down peir outside in the hot overbaring sun.
You're not in Kansas anymore Toto. Well. Not in Harlem anyway. Technically, Gwen is in Red Hook, which unless Gwen's knowledge of NYC is /VERY/ outdated, is literally on the other side of the effin' city. "That is the first time I've heard that one." he says, and he sounds sincerely amused by this, "And no. Pocket dimensions are for meglomaniacs. Not my thing."
He starts walking down the way, passing along the main peir before heading into the area of the private docks where various boats are docked. At firest they're tiny little dingies, but soon as they go they start seeing nicer and nicer ships and pointedly, are getting further and further from crowds. There are a few boaters about, and they stare at the blind man and his… trophy date? Seems unlikely. He has stains on his shirt, he's not rich enough for trophies.
Gwen's nose wrinkles as the smell of the bait shop, and she ughs in agreement. "I was never any good at fishing," she comments as they emerge, "And if it means I don't have to go shopping for worms or froggies or shark chum or whatever in a place like that, I'm perfectly okay with it. I like to think I have hobbies that I'm way more suited to."
Following along the docks, even a private peir, has its own challenges of course. Hod, wearing a stained shirt as he is, isn't likely to garner the same sort of looks as Gwen is. She meets a couple of looks with an icey glare when some pair of eyeballs… lingers… for longer than it ought to.
"Alright," she muses, "So, not a pocket dimension. Do you have a nifty key or something, kind of like that one character in The Matrix? The second one?" She perks an eyebrow upwards, before rapidly glancing over one shoulder; by-product of her danger-sense still being active and a couple of obvious creeps hanging about. "I mean… you've obviously got something. You're super powered, or you've got magic, or you made a deal with Cthulhu, or something."
Hod snorts, "What's The Matrix?" he asks flatly, "Wait. Did you just ask me if I've watched a movie?" he asks, stopping mid stride to turn and 'stare' at her over her left shouler before lifting a hand and waveing it in front of his face, reminding her that movies aren't really his thing. Then he turns and starts walking again, "Call me when it's in braile." one may notice he did not answer the question.
It takes a bit of time before he pauses, tilts his head as if listening to something, then nods and takes a left, walking along a private dock, "This'll do nicely." he says as he reaches the side of the ship and starts running his hand along the hull while carefully avoiding stepping off the dock, until his fingers hit the ladder. Then he's climbing up the side of the yacht. Or. Sail boat. Or both? It's really nice is all that's important.
"Just because you haven't seen a movie, doesn't necessarily mean you wouldn't get the pop culture reference," Gwen points out. "You keep reminding me that you're blind, but you're not a fungus, Hod, people talk to you about stuff all the time." She notes the fact that Hod didn't answer her actual question, but just sort of files it away for later.
"Uhm, question," she inquires as she follows Hod over the side of the yacht. "Is this your boat? I mean, I'm guessing it's not, before you yell at me about non-functioning eyeballs again, so… are we break and entering? I'm just asking 'cause I still live in my Dad's place and he's, like, a cop. So if his daughter gets busted for a B and E there's gonna be fireworks so big I'll probably not need to go to the Fourth of July ever again." She pauses. "Or, like, be allowed to."
Hod shakes his head, "I'm not blind, but I don't see movies either, and honestly I don't have much time for pop culture as a whole. And technically it's not breaking and entering, it's unlawful trespass. I think." he doesn't pause, "Don't worry, we won't be here long. So hurry up. We need to get to the cabin." and he disappears over the edge of the ship and onto the deck.
Gwen lingers for a moment, possibly checking to see if anyone's busy taking pictures of her on their cellphone or something. Or maybe that's just paranoia. "Well," she sighs as she follows Hod, "I guess there's witnesses who can say I was in Luke's Bar in Harlem five minutes ago, so I doubt anyone could prove I was on a yacht in Red Hook. That might be far fetched."
She keeps up, but her curiosity is clearly getting the better of her. "This is a long way to walk for a talk," she points out, "Especially given that Luke's has a perfectly good back alley, right? I mean, I assume there's going to be more to this than 'by the way, space and time break the rules for my benefit when I ask nicely'."
Hod snorts, "I don't ask." he says flatly as he walks across across the deck. He's a bit slow, tapping ahead with the cane, but quickly seems to get his bearings and heads for the center portion of the boat. With a hand he feels around until he finds a railing and disappears down some steps. He coughs in an embarassed manner, "Um. Quickly. I can hear someone showering." he quips as he opens the cabin door, "And watch your head." before ducking inside.
Gwen is thankful that Hod can't see her blushing fiercely as she half-stumbles before following him inside. "There's someone showering?" she whispers, "You can't be serious!" She ducks and follows him inside, admittedly in part because she just doesn't want to get stuck here, in particular. "Are we just… teleporting elsewhere from here? This is at once the coolest and most inconvenient teleporting I've ever experienced I'm pretty sure. Where are we actually going?"
As they step through the last doorway and into the cabin, theroetically, someone turns out the sun. The door closes behind Gwen and Hod tilts his head to the side, his neck popping slightly as he sighs, "Ah. Home." he says as he reopens the door they just walked through and the sounds of lapping water and a soft breeze reach Gwen's ears. He then heads out of what still appears to be a boat's cabin, and out onto a boats deck.
It is not the same boat.
First of all, the sky if full of stars and none of them are named Sol, secondly there a LOT of stars, thirdly, there's no land in sight. Like. At all. He lifts his hands, cane and all, to the sky and beams, "Aaaaaaah." as he stretches up to his tiptoes and then collapses back down onto his feet, "In answer to one of your questions, because in the city there's almost always someone listening. Somewhere. And out here," he shrugs, "it's just less hastle for me to make sure a conversation is private." Where ever they are, it's not Red Hook. It's not even the proper /hemisphere/, unless her understanding of astral bodies is completely wrong. Also, cell signal is for shit out here.
Hod begins to a move differently, first of all, his cane is tucked under his arm, secondly, he doesn't feel around for things anymore, he just sort of walks from the cabin out onto the deck. He moves towards the prow and flops down in a large section of padded seats that are like part benches, part lounges, part luxury comfy sprawling places. Here he flops. "Okay. So. Ask your questions." he says magnaminously. After he's like… kidnapped her. Into the middle of um… somewhere.
Gwen is not paying attention.
Well, not to Hod, anyway. At least not right at this moment. She's far too busy staring up at the sky; a sky she's never seen before. Now, New York is weird, and you encounter all kinds of stuff, but up until now the sky has always been pretty dependable. Either it rains, or it doesn't rain, in which case if pretty much always looks the same. Well, same-ish. She doesn't even really notice at first, that Hod isn't using his cane anymore.
She does notice eventually, of course.
"Hunh? Questions?" she answers at last. "Well… Okay I have several. Where are we? How did we get here? Who are you, really?" She pauses, "I mean, I believe 'Hod' is your name, I'm not accusing you of telling me fibs or anything, just, I'm now convinced there's more to it than a blind old grumpy guy who cooks food that would make Gordon Ramsey proud." She pauses, and rests her hands on her hips, "And… why've the hairs on the back of my neck been standing on end around you for the last three months?"
Hod chuckles softly, "So two outa three ain't bad." he mutters to himself before sitting back up and sighing heavily and ticking the questions off on his fingers, "About twenty miles off of the coast of Madagascar in international waters well beyond the point where anyone gives half a shit to pay attention to a single boat." he ticks another finger, "I am Hod, Hodor, Hodr-it's a long list, Hod is good enough honestly, though I've gone by countless names. We'll circle back around to this one in a second." he ticks another finger, "And if I had to guess, because I have been returned to a portion of my station."
He sets his cane aside and reaches up to run a hand through his hair, "This is always the awkward part. Um." he tugs at his beard a little, "You prolly know my little brother, or at least /of/ him. Thor?" he asks curiously, the mirrored shades turning towards her almost curiously. And this time, they turn towards /her/. Almost like he could see through them.
Gwen stares back at Hod, as if trying to decide if he actually can see through those mirrored glasses. In fact, that is precisely what she's trying to piece together — at least until he drops the name 'Thor' in the same sentence as 'little brother'.
She was definitely paying attention to that.
"Wait wait wait, hold up, hold the phone, time out." She stalks forwards a couple of steps, and points, "Of course I know about Thor, I live in New York and I read the news at least once a year. It's kind of hard not to know about an immortal being from another world who wields a hammer only he can lift and can generally through things like skyscrapers like Scotsmen toss cabers. Soo…"
She trails off, but only for a moment, "So, you're telling me that you're an Asgardian, then?" She sounds incredulous, but only partly so. "If I remember right, Thor's five thousand years old, and you just implied that you're older. So, assuming I believe you — which I'm holding judgement on for a moment, but you did teleport me to Madagascar which tells me you're definitely not the average chump — that means I've been hanging around with an Asgardian for the last few months, and all I've done is tell you your food is delicious and you occasionally have B.O. and need a shower?"
Hod sighs as she waxes on about Thor, "Yeah." he says, his tone flat and unenthused by her gushing, "And no. He's not even three millenia yet." he says with a sort of lofty mockery in his tone, "I beat him by…" he hand waffles, "a bit." Yeah, why be specific now? "And yes, though 'Asgardian' is fairly broad a term, it includes a few peoples, I am of the Aesir and the Vanir, Thor has a different mother." he shrugs, "Pops doesn't like commitment much." he then adds, "And I don't get B.O.. I don't sweat." he sticks his tongue out at her, "So nyeh."
Gwen wanders back, and half-sits on the railing at the edge of the boat — a position that some might find precarious, but she seems to be entirely comfortable with it. She chews that over for a moment, opens her mouth to say something, then closes it to think a moment longer.
"Alright, so… Odin's your father, Thor is your annoying kid brother — which means Loki must be a relation as well — aaaaaaand you've been restored to a portion of your station." She spreads her hands out in front of her. "And, I've got a feeling you actually can see, or you've got some other sensory perception you're not letting on about." She perks an eyebrow upwards. "So… the real question, then, is why tell me? I'm just some university student and a waitress. …If… a particularly smart and good looking one, but that's off the point."
Hod reaches up and pulls his sunglasses off slowly so that Gwen can see his disfigurement. Hod has no eyes. No eye lids. Nothing. In his face where eyes should be there are a pair of inky black pits that seem to swallow in the light around them. He doesn't blink as those holes are turned on her, because he can't, "Trust me," he says softly, "I am quite blind." and then the glasses slide mercifully back up into place, "But I have been blind for three millenia. Do anything long enough and you can get good at it. I'm a blind man that can cook, if you need proof look no further then that." he lets out a little breath. "My father is a great big bag of dicks, Thor was a shit until he recently decided to play the good guy, Lok is… complicated. But he's okay once you get past his idea of humor. Grain of salt with that one though."
He's quiet for a long moment as he considered, "Let's… let's just go with the short version for now and say that my father wishes I were dead. He has since I was born. I'm not-" he waves a hand at his eyes, "what a good Aesir son is supposed to be. Defective." he states in a tone that says he's used to the title and doesn't let it get to him any more. Much.
"He stripped me of everything I was and abandoned me here a long while ago. Three months ago I retrieved a portion of what I had lost. I'm not…" he makes a face, "This is hard to explain without it sounding silly."
"I live in New York," Gwen points out. "And absent all the Avengers and supervillains and stuff, it's still New York, and I've been all the way through high school and my first year of university. You want weird, try teenager politics. Trust me, when the fact that Sarah kissed Aaron is not only the current gossip but it's the most important thing ever, there's literally nothing that is ever going to sound that silly, in hindsight."
Gwen has weathered Hod's entirely eyeless gaze rather well, apparently; she was quiet for a moment before she spoke up, but didn't declare 'Ohmigod' or vomit or anything, so that's probably positive, right?
"So, your Dad is a powerful god-person who doesn't like you being around… but…" she shrugs, "I might not be a few millennia old, but I don't walk around with a rainbow pin on my backpack for nothing. I don't believe in anyone being defective. You're who you're supposed to be and that's that." She grits her teeth, "And if your pops shows up all rowdy I'll tell him that."
Hod smirks ever so slightly, "If my father shows up, flee." he says flatly, "In your vernacular I am a god, even weakend as I am, I think I still count. Technically. He is a being of cosmic order, he doesn't kill you when he's angry. He obliterates continants." he says flatly. "Ask the Jotun." there's a tug at the corner of his mouth as if he were unhappy about something, "I was once like Thor, a Prince, I had Power-" he uses it in a way that she can hear the capital 'P' in the word, "and now I don't. Well. I have some of it." and there's a chill wind that comes off of the water and whips around her. It's not hard, but it's decidedly chilly. Unseasonably so. He smirks a little.
"The reason I am telling you this, or at least a little of it, is because I have enemies. For millenia they have believed me dead, and now I can no longer hide. I have a /sliver/ of myself back, but it's enough to broadcast my exsistence to those with the ears to hear. I am weak and can no longer hide as I have been. At least not forever. My people, the-" he waves a hand, "gods, are like predators. Blood in the water-" he waves a hand at the ocean around them, "sharks, om nom nom. And like sharks, they don't mind collateral damage. Like co-workers. Or… friends."
Gwen nods slowly, and clasps her hands in front of her, tapping her thumbs against each other. "…Yeah," she mumbles. "Well, you don't have to worry, I'm not going to quit working at Luke's just because some angry gods might show up looking to settle a vendetta and not worry about making a mess in the process. I don't abandon my co-workers, or friends either."
She pauses, and sucks in a breath, letting it out slowly. "Of course, you've been honest and forthcoming with me, so…" She stands up, and meanders forwards. "Fair's fair. I've got a bit of a secret of my own I've been keeping, and I suppose I probably ought to let you in on it at this point."
Hod simply leans back and keeps an expression on his face that's dangerously close to being a knowing smile. He's never thsi relaxed in the bar, always has the facade up. Here he's himself, not hiding every little thing, he doesn't pretend that he couldn't walk around the ship without the cane, doesn't pretend he's not what he is. He's just free. It shows.
"I'm Spider-Woman," Gwen blurts out, apparently oblivious to Hod's knowing smile. "So, I can throw a pickup truck, climb the outside of a skyscraper by my fingertips, I know when something bad's gonna happen before it goes off, and I've got webshooters." She pauses. "When they're not in a backpack on the other side of the planet, anyway. So…" She shrugs her shoulders lightly, "You were talking about things being weird, well, I was bitten by a radioactive spider and instead of dieing or shrivelling up like a prune, like I probably should have, I got super-powers and decided to be a university student by day and a desperately heroic vigilante at night. So, there's that."
Hod nods his head, "I know." he says simply before reaching up to tap his ear, then his nose, "I'm blind, I'm not deaf. Also, that stuff you people shoot out has an odor, chemically… Well. Some of you. The boy I met a couple months back, he did. The other girl not so much." he shrugs, "The Norns have a sense of humor and they thread my path in peculiar and unexpected ways. I have run across numerous spider related people. That radioactive thing," he nods, "now /that/ I'd never have guessed. The rest?" he shrugs, "I suppose I should tell you, I am-was, the god of secrets. Why do you think I spend so much time drunk? Some shit?" he shakes his head, "no one wants to know."
"You knew? All this time?" Gwen's incredulousness is audible, even if Hod can't see the expression on her face. "Well…!!" she sputters, "Well, so much for the big reveal then. …Alright, so you could smell my webshooters, then? Good grief I'm going to have to work on that." She folds her arms, and sulks for a moment.
"Well, anyway. So, look, here's the thing. I am Spider-Woman, and that means I can't just… 'flee', as you put it. If someone shows up looking to cause a ruckus, I gotta stand up to them. Even if it's entirely guaranteed that I'm going to get beat. At least as long as there's innocent people who have to get away, I've gotta face it, whatever comes." She shrugs her shoulders lightly. "It's in the job description."
Hod chuckles, "It was a collection of things, but yes. I can smell the chemicals you use. I wouldn't have been able to place it had I not run across the boy in the DZ who defeated some automatons that were sent to kill… one of us." he shrugs. "He spewed the stuff out like it was mustard on rye. Next time you came into work-" he motions with a hand that suggests 'there ya go'. "Also, right before you enter, occasionally, you 'thwip'. It's a fairly unique sound." he taps his ear. "Blind." he reminds her, "I have excellent hearing." tiny smirk.
The smirk dies with her next words and he shakes his head, "No." he says simply, "That's not the job." he sighs, "If I asked your father, and I assume he's a good man because he raised a remarkable daughter, I imagine he'd tell you the same thing. You job is not to fight the bad guy, it's to protect the innocent. /Sometimes/ this means you fight the bad guy, most often this means you get the fragile out of the way. If they come for me, your job isn't to stop them, you job is to make sure you get everyone else out. If Hercules wants me dead, he'll drop the building on us, you can't stop it. But you can save people as it comes down." he points a finger at her, "Priorities. You wanna be a hero? That's your gig. I'm not a hero. Violence will be /my/ job. I mean, so long as it's a family member. If it's some mugger or whatever-what is it the kids say? You do you?"
Gwen mmms, "Yeah, the 'twhip' sound is me arriving on a webline," she acknowledges. "I… do that. it's a remarkably fast way to get across town. Also, I'm sure you figured that out already." She shrugs, "Hercules and I have met, we have a good raport. So if he shows up looking to cause you a big ruckus I'll try to talk him out of it. But…" she spreads her hands, then lets them drop back to rest on her hips, "You're right, and I get it," she continues, blushing softly at the compliment, "And my Dad would say that. If he knew I was Spider-Woman—WHICH HE DOESN'T," she adds, "So whatever you do, don't…"
She ahems, "I was about to tell the god of secrets to keep a secret, I suppose that would be unnecessary." Gwen shakes her head, "Don't worry. Anyone comes after you, I'll make sure to get everyone out. Well, Luke can take care of himself, he's unbreakable. But everyone else. And if a mugger wanders in, well, their type are no threat to me."
Hod snorts, "Herc was an example, he and I get along just fine. Plus he's easy to bribe. I tell him I have your home phone, boom, he'll leave me be in exchange for the number. Or a really good bottle of wine. Or a moderately okay one." he almost grins, "I rather like Hercules. He also thinks his dad is a bit of a dick."
He nods his head, "So long as you understand. There may come a time Father sends Thor to fetch me, or Tyr, or even Baldr, and if so don't try to stop them. Just get everyone out the back. Family matters with us can get out of hand. Even the cousins."
"I can promise I'll get everyone out back," Gwen acknowledges. "'Cause you're right, that is my job." She mulls over that for a moment, "I mean… can't promise that I'll stop there, one common trait us Spiders seem to have in common is that we're generally cocky and don't know when to quit. We're always in over our heads but we go anyway, that's just how it is. …But don't worry, I won't try to take Thor on directly or anything."
She smirks, "Hercules is pretty great, actually. And I already know he outclasses me in terms of strength, I've seen what he can do, but he's always a good sport. Nothing like the cartoon, which he says is drivel. Can't say I blame him on that point."
Hod waves a hand, "Myths build over time, become mixed and lost. I spent a long while crushing every single mention of my name in the annals of history. By all accounts I was… mostly sucessful." he shrugs, "No telling what would have been otherwise." he's quiet for a long moment then prompts, "There's always more questions then I think to answer, so-" another hand wave in a 'go nuts' sorta motion as he pulls a bottle of whiskey out from one of thos bench seats that all boats seem to have. His comes with glasses and a wee ice chest that holds large perfectly cubed crystal clear scotch glass sized cubes. He starts to make himself a drink.
"Well… Okay, maybe this isn't the most relevant question," Gwen answers, "But I have to admit I'm intensely curious to know how your teleporting works. I'm guessing you have to go from a place to an analogous place, which is why we had to go from Luke's kitchen to another kitchen, and from the yacht at Red Hook to here." She scratches the back of her head, and gives things a moment of thought, as she watches Hod pouring himself a drink.
"I guess from a more practical standpoint, I should ask who you think might actually come and try causing trouble? 'cause I wasn't kidding about the hairs on the back of my neck, or about being able to sense danger, and that sense has been buzzing for a couple of months whenever I'm around you. So I'm completely positive that something is waiting to jump out of the woodworks, and that I'll be present when it does… albeit… usually it isn't something I detect until moments before it happens. So this is, admittedly, weird."
Hod snorts a sound that's almost amusement, "That would be easy." he says, "Nothing linked to me is easy. I know things, it's part of my gifts, one of the things I know are the Ways. All of the Ways. Some of these require analogous locational directions, others-" he shakes his head, "There's a pair of doors in the Louvre that lead to Muspelheim, assumeing you know how to open them. Which no one does. Except me. The answer to your question is, 'it's complicated, involving several forms of high dimensional maths, conscious intuitive energy manipulation, and a solid dash of less then normal brain chemistry-aka-madness."
He tosses back the glasses contents long before it has time for the ice to add any chill to it, and pours a second. "Frost giants, fire trolls, Hel has a thing with me being happy, the D%<246>kk%<225>lfar, Lj%<243>s%<225>lfar, the regular Trolls-though maybe not, Ulik thinks I'm funny." he makes a head motion as if to say 'but that guys nuts so….' "And that's just my more immediate family. I did a turn against Khonshu a few centuries ago, bruised the nose of Hermes once or twice, miiiiiight have annoyed what you would call the Chinese pantheon-" he pauses, "I assume you get the idea? Because that's just the people with beef and doesn't include all those that think they could curry favor with my Father if they brought him my skull as a drinking cup."
Gwen perks an eyebrow upwards. "So basically, you've managed to cheese off, like, everyone." She smirks, and shakes her head. "I don't know who all of those that you mentioned actually are, especially the… dark laughers or whatever you called 'em. I don't know how to even pronounce that. The troll people." She shrugs her shoulders lightly. "So, I should basically just watch out for all sorts of powerful, supernatural woogy people, and if anyone comes asking then I'm sorry but I don't know anyone by that name. Try Chicago? I hear there's all kinds of weird people in Chicago."
"Also," she adds, "I can totally understand your answer being 'it's complicated'. It's not like I understand any of my powers. I have no idea how I sense danger, but I'm assuming it's precognition, which I suppose makes me a psychic? I think? I don't know. …I also have no idea how I can lift a pickup truck when there's really nothing on my frame that should be able to manage more than a generously laden backpack. We won't even talk about sticking to walls." She holds up her hands, mirroring the Whaddayagonnado gesture that Hod made earlier. "I guess the next question is, if you hadn't already known I was Spider-Woman, would you still have told me all this? How much does my being super-powered factor in?"
Hod nods his head, "If you weren't, I wouldn't work at Luke's and this would be an entirely moot discussion." he states matter of factly, "Look, I don't have to work. I got lucky on an investment about thirty to fourty years ago and now I'm good. First time in my life, well, since my exile, that I havn't had to scrounge for food and shelter. I work at Luke's because the people are interesting and pseudoimmortality is boring and shockingly repeatative. The Norns say I have to stay in the city, that it's important. They don't say I have to be bored. Hence-" he motions to the pair of them.
"I don't tell most mortals about who I am. Being near me is dangerous enough, not one friend I've ever known has died of old age, nor have my wives, nor my children. Some of them knew, most of them did not, all died suffering. The knowledge doesn't help and often puts them at risk, but," he polishes off the second drink and pours a third, "it was pointed out to me not to long ago that constant isolation is bad for the mental health and eventually leads down dark paths. I can't afford that. So I'm trying to be more out going. Yay me." the last two words are so dry they could soak up an ocean.
Gwen nods, "Well, I bet it doesn't help that Luke basically just can't die," she points out. "So there's that. He doesn't know I'm Spider-Woman though, I uhh… haven't… told him. I haven't told many people, but a few know. Rebecca knows too." She nods towards the booze that Hod is slamming down his throat like it's going out of style, "Did you bring anything… non-alcoholic, by chance? I'm still kinda under twenty-one. Even if we are off the coast of Madagascar… I'm not sure a drunk… Spider… is a good idea."
She jumps up, and lands in a crouch with her feet on the railing, and her arms rested on her knees. "I'm sorry that you went through all that," she adds, softly. "But I'm glad you told me. I can't promise I won't get myself killed doing what I do, but then I couldn't promise that before, either. …But I can't not do it. Just standing by and letting bullies be bullies isn't my thing." She nods, "And you aren't allowed to go down any dark paths. If you feel that way, you gotta talk to someone. I might not have a few thousand years of wisdom but I definitely know that."
Hod makes a sound half way between a snort and a chuckle, "Afraid you'll hurt me?" he asks before reaching over to flick open the fridge so she can see an impressive assortment of alcoholic beverages… and also various sodas. Presumably for… guests? Ah. Mixers. They're clearly for mixers.
"Oh little sister, I can't stop myself from walking hand in hand with the darkness, I'm just trying to hold off on it as long as I can." he starts pouring another drink, though when this one vanished is anyone's guess.