7817/Mead and Coffee

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__NOCACHE__ 
Mead and Coffee
Date of Scene: 10 June 2019
Location: The Sacred Grounds coffee house, Boston
Synopsis: Brynhildr meets Vintridr, is brought somewhat up to date on current events, and is Not Happy.
Cast of Characters: Vintridr, Valkyrie


Vintridr has posed:
    The Sacred Grounds doesn't seem too odd for a non-franchise coffee place. The decor is tasteful yet subdued, the windows let in just enough light to provide ambience without becoming glaring, tables and chairs and a few couches offer customers a place to sit and relax with their brews. Most times of day you'll see a variety of coffee drinkers, yuppies taking their break, students cramming while taking in a double espresso, or just people who dropped by for a drink.

    It's not exactly the kind of place one would expect to find one a Chooser of the Slain. Yet the woman behind the bar has that distinct Asgardian look when you know what to look for -- slightly taller than the average Midgardian, a certain collection of facial features rarely found elsewhere, and that very distinct controlled smoothness of motion indicating great strength held in check... And something about her sings to Brynhildr's senses, a distant echo of clashing swords and shouts, the taste of enchantments first forged so long ago even Odin might not remember...

Valkyrie has posed:
    Coffee shops aren't really Bryn's sort of place, really. Socializing with a bunch of hipsters is not really her speed, and she'd be more comfortable in a bar, truth be told. But, it's been a long time...a VERY long time...since she's felt that sort of a tug, and it's something that commands her attention.

    She strides into the place like she owns it. (Really, that's kind of her standard approach to most places.) Her eyes sweep the place, but it's more than her eyes that pick out the figure she's starting for. Eyes narrow when she realizes it's not someone she knows. After all, there was a sliver, even a tiny one, that one of her fellow Valkyries somehow survived the slaughter that day. When she sees it isn't, her stride is direct, and purposeful. And not particularly friendly.

Vintridr has posed:
    The barista - apparently known as 'Vin' by the regular currently discussing her drink order - had noticed the uncommon guest the moment she entered, with a quick glance of acknowledgement before ostensibly turning her attention back to the customer.

    It would take a fellow veteran of a thousand battles to recognize the changing body language, the slight shift in stance to rest her weight more comfortably on the back of her feet for quick, sudden movement, the relaxation of her shoulders to allow for better freedom of motion.

    Even if Vin doesn't know why this fellow Asgardian - one she hadn't met before, which is uncommon in and of itself - seems to have a mad on for her, she's clearly readying herself to handle any trouble that might ensue.

Valkyrie has posed:
    Bryn walks up to the counter, and slaps a palm down on it. Not hard enough to break it (which would be child's play for either Asgardian), but loudly enough to get attention.

    "Who are you?" She demands. "And who gave you the right to use that title?" Because if she wasn't a Valkyrie, Bryn wouldn't be getting that ring. But she clearly feels that appointing replacements to her honored corps is not acceptable.

Vintridr has posed:
    ... Well, give the mortals credit; they clearly understand when it's a good time to clear out and do so with a minimum of fuss, although it speaks well for their courage and loyalty that some of them throw a concerned glance at Vin first and only leave after she silently shakes her head at them.

    As for herself, Vin meets the woman's glare with one of her own, pride and defiance and not one inch of give in her eyes as she responds in the formal tones of All-speak, as befits a kenning.

    "I am Vintridr, Wind-Reader, Cloud-Rider, Way-Finder. My title was bestowed by Odin One-Eye, Glad-of-War, the All-Father, after the Fourth War of the Ever-Burning Mountain."

    "I earned my title and arms, and proved my worth in battles beyond count. And who are /you/, who questions my right to bear them?"

Valkyrie has posed:
    To her own credit, Bryn doesn't bat an /eye/ when it comes to the statement. The fact that Vin actually stands up to her speaks at least somewhat well for her, in the darker woman's estimation, and she looks back. She replies in kind, even though she hasn't used the old ways in a very, VERY long time. But some things are like riding a bike. You just don't forget. The words of the All-Speech fall from her own lips, the cadence matching.

    "I am Brynnhilde. Fang-Bearer, Sky-Rider, First Among Sisters. I am the /leader/ of the Valkyrior, chosen by Odin Allfather. First into battle, and only survivor of my sisters."

Vintridr has posed:
    The play of emotions on Vintridr's face is... Odd. Surprise, confusion... And then a visible shift, eyes widening in clarity as puzzle pieces fall into place, followed by dismay and a certain grim and almost tired-seeming anger. She takes a moment to sigh, then meets Bryn's eyes again and continues in the same tongue, defiance and confrontation making way for compassion and hospitality.

    "Well met and well come, Sister. My home and hearth are yours for as long as you need them; my shield to guard your back and my blade to strengthen your flank," she begins formally. "I apologize for my confusion; it would seem that the All-Father, in his... Wisdom... Declined to speak of you or what befell our sisters by the time I was born."

Valkyrie has posed:
    Bryn would like to be surprised. Or upset. But she's not...not really. She's had a very long time to go about being disillusioned with Asgard. "Why am I not surprised?" She says, even though it's not really a question.

    "So, he just decided to replace us, like our sacrifice meant nothing." She considers Vintridr more openly now. If she wasn't told, then she can't just blame her for the offense given. That lies at another's door. She sighs, but tries to make the best of a bad situation.

    "How many of our sisters are there, then? Who leads? And why are you here on Midgard then?"

Vintridr has posed:
    Vintridr gives her sister a glance of compassion, as one who has just had to give a friend some bad news and knows there's more bad news she has to dole out.

    "Perhaps if time permits you could tell me of your deeds. I would like to hear about the sisters I never had the chance to meet. They deserve more than to be forgotten."

    She sighs. "As to your questions... Until you walked into this cafe, I thought I was the only Valkyrior who had survived Asgard's fall, so leadership of the Choosers of the Slain fell to me by default, in the service of Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, King of Asgard, and Princess Hela, Goddess of Death and Queen of Helheim and Valhalla."

    Best to get all of the bad news and shocks out of the way and done with quickly, after all...

Valkyrie has posed:
    "What."

    It's not even a question. Not really. "What. Did. You. Say?"

    Before, Bryn's anger was indignant, boisterous, good old Asgardian anger. The kind of thing that ends up with some buildings broken, but both the fighters probably laughing it off over some mead later.

    This isn't that. This is cold, abject, FURY. White heat, not smoldering anger.

    "That murdering hag has been given the rule of Valhalla? This. Will. Not. Stand."

    Bryn turns, abruptly, and starts for the door. Some people are about to be Chosen to be Slain by the Valkyrie.

Vintridr has posed:
    Vintridr had expected anger, or grief, or any of a number of emotions including anger. This kind of white-hot blazing rage, however, was unanticipated.

    She's not going to assume there isn't a good reason for it - she already has learned that there was quite a lot the All-Father had not seen fit to speak about - but at the same time, a one-on-one confrontation between a Valkyrie, even this one, and the Goddess of Death herself would have only one possible outcome... And Vintridr has lost too many sisters already to allow that to happen.

    "Sister, please bide a moment longer," she calls, drawing on the formalities of All-speak and traditions to reach across the flames of rage. "Asgard is... Much diminished, from even what it was when I knew of it. If you wish to seek out Thor and Hela to address your grievance, you would benefit from a guide. And I would not leave a sister of mine to walk with her back unguarded."

Valkyrie has posed:
    "Grievance? I will address my "grievance" with my blade in her /heart/. Or the spot in her chest where that evil bitch would keep it if she HAD one." Oh, yes. Bryn is in fine form. "If you wish to be my guide, then gather your things and we go. I will not wait."

    Well, technically she'll wait long enough for Vintridr to get her things. But no more!

Vintridr has posed:
    "To New Asgard, then," Vintridr murmurs, nodding. Fortunately for Bryn's temper, all it takes for Vin is to shut down the till, lock the door and hang up a sign saying the Sacred Grounds are closed until further notice...