3650/Fancy Meeting You Here...

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Fancy Meeting You Here...
Date of Scene: 14 January 2018
Location: New York
Synopsis: There is one less vampire making New York unsafe, and Sam Gwydion, Private Eye, has a lead to follow...
Cast of Characters: Loki, Vintridr




Loki has posed:
    How do they do this?
    The hours dragged on, slowly, interminably, crawling along at a snail's pace with the face of the clock in the brown sedan seeming to glacially tick ahead so slowly. There are those who choose to do this despite their rather distinctly short lifespan, to waste large chunks of their limited time in the observance or hope of something happening at a particular time and the only way to observe it covertly is with a personal presence.
    The man in the car crinkles his nose slightly, leaning back in the seat, hands light upon the steering wheel. An old hot dog wrapper was the only other occupant of the rather dull looking vehicle, it having been tossed aside some few hours ago. Occasionally, there in the dark of the evening, there'll be a faint flare of red as his cigarette's ember burns, window partially open allowing the chill of the night into the cab, and allowing the small tendril of smoke to went its way out.
    Another glance at the clock, aided by the press of a fingertip to cause the red lights to illuminate. The temptation was often there, to simply make things happen. To reach out. A few words, a branching and shared memory focused upon. Would be so easy to make that connection.
    But no. He ashes the cigarette out the window.

Vintridr has posed:
    And then there is a noise (that is not a noise, but mortal languages are so constrained by their limited senses sometimes) that he hasn't heard (except not heard, because it isn't a noise) in ages. A ripple in the barrier between the worlds, in the timeless space between seconds as one of the Choosers of the Slain parts the veil just long enough to guide a fallen warrior into Valhalla, where the brave live forever.

    And scant true seconds later, while that noise-that-wasn't-a-noise still reverberates through his entire being, there is an *actual* noise of something heavy impacting a metal dumpster at speed, from the same general direction...

Loki has posed:
    For a moment Sam Gwydion's eyes flare faintly, the visage shifting a touch as he leans forwards. Straightening up in his seat he can see nothing from where he is parked. But he can hear that noise, can even in some ways /feel/ it. A reminder, heard too many times, too many worlds. Perhaps for some of his contemporaries it signals a call to valor, or recollections of past conflicts. But for him, it signals complications. Difficulties. And no few bad memories.
    Taking a pull on the cigarette as the door opens, he drops it and crushes it under foot, closing the door to the car beside him but quietly. Hands sliding into the pockets of his olive green overcoat, he starts to stalk forwards heading towards that alleyway and the dumpster. At first his features are the subtly altered ones of the man he pretends himself to be, but they make the faint shift towards what is 'him' amongst the Asgardians. The dark black hair, the pallor, the eyes. And even the sword that seems to find a place at his hip, manifesting as a long thin blade as if it had always been there and just now caught the right angle to be seen.

Vintridr has posed:
    The alleyway is poorly lit, but not so poorly as to hinder Asgardian senses, and the scene is perfectly clear to his eyes: On the ground, the body of a young man, blood from a shredded throat soaking into what was a white silk shirt, staining it red. A girl, similarly dressed for a night's clubbing, spattered with bloodstains, sprawled against the wall where she was roughly flung, eyes wide as of those in shock. Pushing himself out of the dent in the dumpster, a humanoid figure hissing in rage, claw-like hands dripping with blood, lips pulled back to bare fangs.

    And standing over the fallen man, arm still extended from the throw, a tall (and to Loki's sight, obviously Asgardian) woman clad in armour no living man or woman has seen in centuries, glaring back at the creature, challenging it...

Loki has posed:
    In the mouth of the alleyway, Loki cuts not a similar silhouette as the other Asgardian. With his hands in his pockets and a look of grim displeasure he takes in the tableau and puts the situation together in his thoughts, reading the small markers of movement, impact, shift. His nostrils flare slightly and his displeasure shifts to a scowl. This is what he was waiting for. This is what took up his time, as he had gauged its hunting patterns, had tracked a handful of its victims, had even wandered in the social circles of some mortals he had found tedious at best.
    And this was the result.
    To the leering hissing creature, Loki offers these words. "You. Are a terrible vampire." Critique aside, however, he advances a few steps. But he seems to be accepting that the other Asgardian has made due claim. For truly, there is an order to these things and she has the right of it.

Vintridr has posed:
    The vampire's head jerks around at the sudden statement to hiss threateningly at this newcomer -- another mistake a wiser warrior would not have made. And his opponent is not one to let a good opening go to waste. The woman springs forward, covering the distance between her and the vampire faster than a human should be able to. Still, the vampire reacts almost fast enough, but his raised claw is batted aside as the woman grabs him by the throat and lifts him bodily into the air...

Loki has posed:
    As the woman moves upon the vampire, he observes her. No recognition at first, though he did make an effort in the past to be at ease with the Valkyr, to the guardsmen, to those who served his father and were at least partially in awe of the royalty and might find just such a small thing as one of the princes remembering them as a tale to tell their loved ones. But her, she does not spring forth with ease.
    But there's no mistaking the training, nor the gait of such a warrior. She moves on the vampire, and he moves past towards the fallen woman. He's quick, himself. a twist to the side to step out of the way and past and then he kneels beside the fallen man with his throat torn out.
    No magic is needed to tell that he's passed, such is seen in the emptiness of his eyes, but is also borne out in the simple fact of Vintridr's presence. For a moment he frowns. Then he gains his feet quickly and holds up a hand towards the woman who is still reeling.
    Standing before her, green eyes searching... this is not the girl whose family hired his alter-ego, which means she or her remains are still out there. He rises and turns as he speaks, perhaps in time for his words to register but if not then such is fate.
    "Bide a moment, I need him alive, albeit briefly."

Vintridr has posed:
    Vintridr was already starting to squeeze hard enough for the sound of cracking cartilage to reach his ears, but at the comment -- and especially the language it's in -- she halts with the instinctive obedience born of centuries of discipline. She stops squeezing but doesn't let up either as she turns her head to regard the source of the order.

    Her eyes widen visibly in surprise -- clearly, she was not expecting anyone from Asgard to show up, much less royalty. Even /this/ royalty.

    "My lord Odinson," she addresses him, a technically correct adjective even if it's more commonly used to describe his brother. "You'll forgive me if I don't kneel right now; I seem to have my hands ful."

    She turns more fully, slamming the vampire against the wall once to discourage its attempts to claw at her arm before holding it out towards Loki. "May I ask what need you have for this... /vermin/ ?"

Loki has posed:
    Advancing on her he holds up a fingertip, "Ah first, as to that." He digs a long-fingered hand into his pocket and almost casually produces a small printed out photograph of a young woman. But he doesn't hold it up, not yet. "Call me, Sam." He tells her that then lowers the fingertip even as the photo is brought up in its place to be held before the slavering maw of the vampire... but out of reach of course.
    "Creature, your life is over. It is best to accept that, to move past it. Right now we merely wish to aid your passing and perhaps make that transition as easily brought to conclusion as possible." Loki holds the photo, turns it so he can look at it, then turns it back to her. "There are concerned mortals who have misplaced their progeny. You are the one who most likely saw her last."
    The picture is of a young woman, bright blue eyes, platinum blonde hair with a clasp holding it back from her eyes and large dimples. "Simple answers to simple questions. Alive? And where?"

Vintridr has posed:
    It always comes as a shock to realize you're not the apex of the food chain as you were led to believe. Some people are swifter on the uptake than others; others cling to bravado long after it ceases to be warranted...

    "HsSSSS! Unhand me or when we take this city I will BATHE in your BLOOD!" His attempt to lash out and kick at the woman holding him is thwarted by the fact that he is being held in mid air at arm's length, leaving him with nothing in kicking reach. Vintridr, for her part, raises an eyebrow at Loki before, during a lull in the kicking, flexes her fingers with that smooth strength again, causing the cracking noises to resume.

    "W-w-wait! Don't know! Didn't see her! Master would know! Master demands all blonde prey brought to Him!"

Loki has posed:
    For a few moments Loki looks at the creature levelly, his features twisting a little with that haze of annoyance. But then he gives a nod to the monster even as it struggles against the woman's grip. The photo is pocketed back into the inner coat pocket, his hands settled there in the folds of the coat while he watches. it.
    "And where is your master? What identity does he hide behind?" The royal Asgardian shifts his weight to the other foot, seeming to take in the body language of the squirming creature, its protests would almost seem pitiful were it not loathsome and covered in innocent blood. "Speak quickly, please. I fear my counterpart might be unable to control herself for too terribly long." Which, to be fair, is not entirely true.

Vintridr has posed:
    Actually, Vintridr stands there with the easy poise of someone who could, if need be, stand there holding him up until well after sunrise. But she's had enough experience with Good-Asgardian-Bad-Asgardian to know her cue, and her fingers flex once more for "encouragement".

    The vampire yelps in pain at another cracking noise, and starts stammering out answers very quickly, too panicked to think of lying...

Loki has posed:
    "You have been an immense help, thank you. I am pleased we did not have to torture you." And as he says that he gives a nod towards Vintridr even as he starts to turn away, his hands sliding into his pockets and his visage shifting as he moves. Oh still Loki, at least for some who might know him better than passing. Hair is shorter and the colour is changed, and features shift faintly with the pallor turning warmer. Yet still him as he pauses a few steps away and turns to her.
    "Good of you to indulge me, forgive me for interrupting your duties." His green eyes hold hers and for a moment there's silence then he adds, "Vintridr. Why is it that name carries with it a feeling of esteem to it yet also something of disappointment?" He asks of her even as he reaches into the other front pocket and produces a package of cigarettes. The package is tamped down, then he withdraws one and takes a few moments to fumble for a lighter that he makes use of after a moment or two.
    "But then again perhaps you simply didn't laugh at one of my jests in the great hall one evening and I never forgave you." His lip twists, amusing himself with that at the least.

Vintridr has posed:
    At Loki's nod, those fingers flex again, and this time they don't stop squeezing. The vampire has time for one agonized shriek that trails off into a gurgle as the pressure exceeds his superhuman damage tolerance and his head shatters, the body crumbling quickly into dust.

     She flicks her hand once to wipe away the dist, then returns her attention to Loki, bowing politely. "It's possible you were in attendance on the day I walked out of your Father's halls," she replies in a studiously neutral tone of voice. "I must admit, even with rumors of your brother's presence on Midgard I had not expected to meet a fellow Asgardian here..."

Loki has posed:
    "There are a few," He offers in rejoinder, then to emphasize what he means he flares a hand to the side and adds, "Asgardians." He looks down at the dust of the fallen creature, then back up towards the woman who took its life. "Midgard has always had its draw." Though it had not always held such a draw for him, save for a few spare beings, a few intriguing moments.
    He pushes away then turns his head to the side, letting his thoughts drift back, then he looks to her. "Ah, the impertinence." He takes a draw from his cigarette, then blows the smoke out of the corner of his mouth as he continues to look at her with that curious mix of seeming intrigued and almost aggressively amused. His eyes narrow subtly, then his smile curves edged. "I thought it was a fine exit. My father and I have never seen eye to eye even if I spotted him one."
    Turning around he walks back towards the alleyway, and gestures with the smoke towards the old brown sedan as he cocks an eyebrow at her, "Can I give you a ride anywhere or are you set with winged horse and spear?"

Vintridr has posed:
    "... You are kind to offer, My Lord, but I can make my own way back," comes the response after a while. Clearly Vintridr isn't willing to tell Loki where she currently lives just yet. "I'll need to see to the woman in any event. He asked I see her safe, and I shall."

Loki has posed:
    His eyebrows lift as if having on some level expected that answer, then he nods. His eyes drift back towards the woman, the fallen, the dust. A small shake of his head is given for some reason but it is hard to know Loki's mind. He holds up a hand towards her as he leaves the cigarette in the corner of his mouth. "Then until another time, Vintridr."
    His lip twitches as he turns and walks away, "We'll commiserate about Asgard over some of the few passable bottles of brandy Midgard has to offer." With that, however, he moves to the car and after a bit longer he's gone.