299/Rooftop Rumbles

Rooftop Rumbles
Date of Scene:	05 March 2020
Location:	Bronx
Synopsis:	Warriors from multiple pantheons spell the doom for a revenent creature. Sif is her usual cool self. Heidi is a ray of sunshine. Poor Alexander, he must put up with cracks at his height.
Cast of Characters:	Alexander Aaron, Sif, Heidi Ingerdottir

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Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Later in the evening...

    The skyline ever draws the eye in Manhattan with its sweeping vista and wondrous towers. It appears on many pieces of art, photos, movies. Indelibly etched into the minds of people who have never even been there. With the right lighting it can seem mystical, spiritual, oppressive... but tonight with the grim layer of low-hanging clouds, and the slow drift of faint flakes of snow against the night sky, it presents itself eerily, like some unwelcome character upon stage that the audience can't draw their attention away from.
    Such a view only plays backdrop, however to the rushing serious immediacy of young Alexander Aaron's situation. Rough rapid footsteps carry him across that menacing tableau, feet kicking up snow as he rushes towards the edge of a building and /leaps/ vaulting some thirty feet and then landing to roll and regain his feet almost instantly without breaking stride.
    Behind him, visible from afar as perhaps a black cloud surging forth, a large wisp of smoke and particles that surges across the way, in pursuit of the hurtling youth. As it draws nearer and nearer in its pursuit, long inky tendrils reach out, and flashes of white appear in its depths, what looks like bones and skulls and limbs grasping and reaching while the monstrous thing flies in pursuit.

Sif has posed:
With the carrying of the wind from on high and the cutting chill it brings, it will be difficult to hear the approach of two white specks against the backdrop of gloomy grey. Rather than fall to melt, they grow in size, fleet on the breezes and with broad wingspans of feathers impossibly grown from equine shoulders. Their riders arrive in an eerie stoop from on high in counter to what might usually occur (in at least the case of the Goddess of War in full battle regalia).

Out comes Brumeoalfold and like a falling star, the Lady Sif takes a bold slash at the frontal zone of the inky despair hunting the acrobatic young man across the rooftops. With its keen edge, it seems to cut through the cloud like a hot knife through butter, though its immediate effect remains to be seen.

"Lady Heidi! See if the young Midgardian requires assistance!" Her voice rings like struck steel as she banks Typhon, her Pegasus mount, around for another fly-by.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
The flaxen-haired Asgardian atop another Pegasus, Heidi, gives a firm nod in Sif's direction. "Of course, Lady Sif!" With that confirmation, Heidi and Eira bank left, weaving away through the sky. If anything, it's almost like the two of them are one creature with the way they cut through the sky, careful of the air's currents and sway. Her pace takes her quickly in Alexander's direction, the pace slowed to match his in order to fly alongside.

"Hail! I know this is not particularly a great time for a chat so I shall speak with brevity: do you need help?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The monster /reels!/ It's tendrils spreading and flaring as a dozen skulls all manifest in its front quarter to _scream_ its ire at the sudden approach of the two valkyries. A long inky tendril-whip slithers out and lashes after the retreating form of Sif, even as her strike causes a spatter of bones to be severed in twain, causing them to crash and crackle off to the side and fall to the ground in a cascade of bonemeal.
    The tow-headed youth spins in his flight, skidding to a halt with one leg out-stretched the other tucked under him, a hand held forth as if to stay the approach of the creature as his other slips behind his back and causes a golden light to flare. With that flash of brilliance a crimson-bladed sword manifests in his hand even as he espies what has passed.
    "Wha!?" His voice lifts, "Wait!" He calls, "I was tryin' to..." His jaw closes, tendons bunching as he grinds his teeth. "Get it somewhere... not so..." Out in the open? Obvious? Whatever he might have been about to say it's stymied when he espies the horses and then is approached by Heidi.
    And then she says 'Hail'.
    The young youth with the hazel eyes just /squints/ at Heidi and he growls low, "Typical. Freakin' typical." But then he breaks into a run past Heidi, bringing the blade around in a reverse grip. Lifting his voice louder he replies.
    "I got this." As he leaps straight at the beast, Grasscutter raised and ready.

Sif has posed:
"Typhon, as the North Wind!" Sif's command kicks the pegasus-stallion's efforts into the next gear. Hard flaps of his wings keep him beyond the reaching tendrils of disturbing ink-like danger. More gleaming swings of her enchanted sword cut at the reaching pointed tips of the tentacles and another sharp, wrenching turn allows her to take another swipe at the main body of the being -- or what constitutes as one, at least.

She does hear Alexander's voice rise above the wind rushing past her and looks back to see the young man moving to engage. "Mark him, Lady Heidi!"

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi's bow is never far from her hands, so it's a smooth and swift motion when she pulls it out and nocks an arrow, pulling it back against the string all while her mount continues its flight, curving now in the direction of the beast. "I applaud your courage!" She shouts in Alexander's direction before she lets it loose. The arrow zips towards its target, sailing just past the teenager's shoulder. Was it purposefully close? Who is to say? Heidi is only an archer with hundreds and hundreds of years of experience.

"Fight on, I am certain this thing will be bested."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    That monstrosity draws up short, rising up onto... what could be haunches, a swirling mass of vapor and bones with skeletal legs... only there seem to be so many of them, fourteen... fifteen... more? Almost like a circular centipede as it slithers to a halt and turns what would be its torso and all of its whirling writhing tendrils in Sif's direction.
    Yet her winged horse bears her in a charge that is clear of the creature's wrath, too fast for the grasping tendrils to catch even as they snap out with the speed of a whip crack, sharpened finger bones sprouting up and down those tentacles like rigid spines meant to maim and tear.
    She'll feel her blade find purchase as she slashes past, /tearing/ at the creature's central body, wisps of smoke are torn off as she'll feel the crackle of bones spattering and clattering to the ground as it wails.
    Yet as she passes, the monster's other side sprouts and lashes out with more bladed limbs, each seeking to slice and gut the beautiful Typhon.
    Yet that is the moment Alexander blurs past, the red-bladed sword flashing and those four grasping tendrils fall to the ground, severed from the body and going still as the smoke dissipates. "Seriously guys, just..." Such exasperation in his tone, but he doesn't elaborate beyond that for now.
    Arrows slice into the creature, embedding into the nebulous /something/ that serves as the monstrous core. He calls out, "It's a revenant. Smash the bones and it'll get weaker." Though when his blade connects with a cross slash across the creature's trunk it reels as what bones it connects with are sliced as if butter, causing them to fall inert to the ground along with a spatter of ichor and gore.

Sif has posed:
"When you gain your full height, Midgardian, you might take that tone with me." Sif's voice, martially stern, precedes her as she swings her mount around again. Brumeoalfold is raised to yet again catch the ambient city light around them. "Though you've wisdom in your identification. Revenent, yes, I agree. Let us dismantle the rattling farce!"

One of the bladed appendages manages to slash strings of moonsilvery pegasus tail-hair, so close is their escape from a swat. The strands float away on the wind even as Typhon shrieks insult, uninjured and yet VERY OFFENDED.

Sif, in response, takes to seeing about cutting each tendil as it comes at them, and dives in yet again to risk a chance at deeply gouging an open wound along the creature's main vaporous body.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"Lady Sif, I'm sure he's merely looking to prove his worth. I imagine he has /no idea/ how rude he sounds right now and will apologize after he has proven himself," Heidi offers, though it doesn't mean she's not paying attention to both the battlefield. Eira keeps a good distance, never staying too still in case she's lashed out at. Heidi too seems to be aware of the movements, another arrow nocked to bowstring.

Her arrow is carefully aimed, looking for the sweet spots where the bones might be. As the arrow is released, she looks down at Alexander. "You're doing /great/, keep that up!" She sounds genuinely excited, but it probably comes off more as condescending.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The creature howls as its limbs are taken from it, as arrows pierce it, the lower portion of it reeling and pulling back from Alexander's and Heidi's onslaught. The upper portion continues to send snapping tentacles after the flying Typhon, for some reason wishing to pull it from the sky.
    "There is..." Alexander's sword slices one of the limbs off even as it sprouts trying to get a hold of him. He launches to the side, avoiding a heavy skeletal leg that slashes downward trying to stomp where he is. "Nothing, wrong!" He lands on an industrial sized air-conditioner and /leaps/ into the air toward the center mass of the monstrosity. Grasscutter blurs as it slices through the swirling dark as it seems to cleave a gap in the darkness and writhing smoke, revealing for a bare instant a larger skull with blazing eyes, a skull now missing a quarter of its forelobe, sliced cleanly by the eldritch sword in the youth's hand.
    He lands, "With my height!"
    The Revenant howls as it turns toward Alexander, raising seventeen different skeletal arms in the air as it makes ready to smash down. Not knowing that the strike from Grasscutter leaves the curve of its neck open just as...
    Lady Sif rides past.

Sif has posed:
"You are -- doing quite well," the Asgardian warrior manages to accede in as agreement to Heidi's thoughts on matters though, yes, she doesn't manage much more than an inkling of distracted cheer at best. Heidi relatively sparkles by comparison. She won't miss the chance to take brutal advantage of an opening ripped by brute force and skill alike from both of her battle-companions.

One-two, one-two, through and through, Brumeoalfold goes snickersnack -- and while there's no head to bring galumphing back, there is the thrilling victory of seeing the revenent creature appear to writhe and then fall apart at the proverbial, eerie, slimy seams. It half-evaporates, half-sublimates, and leaves behind a scattering of human bones of all shapes and sizes.

Swinging Typhon in a far lazier turn now, Sif then finds a landing surface on another large air-conditioner's outlet. Precisely, lightly, the pegasus lands and Sif slips Brumeoalfold away. "Well done, all." A firm nod to boot. "What do you call yourself, young Midgardian?"

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
As the danger seems to have passed, Heidi stows her bow, bringing Eira around to gracefully swoop down to land not far from where Typhon has landed. She's all smiles, as always. "Well done indeed! I'd say that was a nice brisk warm up," she glances about to ensure that there are no hints of the creature coming back before she gives Alexander a good visual sizing up.

Seeming to have found nothing worth commenting on and no real injury that can be seen, Heidi sees no reason not to relish in the victory. "You fight well /and/ have knowledge of these creatures. That certainly makes you stand out more than most Midgardians."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Those remaining bones disappear into dust and wisps, a high-pitched squealing seeming to come from it and barely audible, disappearing in clumps of gore and vitriol. Yet as all of its beautiful wickedness fades it leaves a smaller set of bones, slightly smaller than a human that is crawling and reaching and still trying to get over towards Alexander as it howls in a voice that simultaneously seems to come from three different throats, speaking three different languages. Though with the gift of all speech it all blends, but what is clear is the message.

    << Noooooo, we were meant to. We were meant to serve you. Nooooooo. >>

    And only then does the mass of grime and bonemeal disappears with the last brush of the evening's breeze. It leaves them there upon that rooftop, Alexander standing on the edge of the building and then walking further in, sword still in hand. Not a touch of dirt nor grime remains on the weapon and with a gesture to the side it disappears.
    The Valkyries descend. The Olympian looks between them. And his face just seems to clench. Contorted into at first a sideways twist of his features one way, then the other way. His lips are drawn inward as he wrangles with whatever is in his thoughts and mind. But then the frown resolves as he nods a few times. Most likely to himself.
    A deep breath is taken, and if one might know the youth they might well imagine the hand of a big burly man on his shoulder, telling the youth that he must ever be honorable.
    And so out of nowhere, the young blond man lowers his head and says with /such/ perfect elocution. Such /exquisite/ solemnity. Such courtly perfection as he bows low, precisely the three inches from the ground with the sweep of one hand, signifying a friendship granted and honor given due the court of Asgard. His leg partially bends all in that smooth movement with him rising and then telling them levelly, cleanly.
    "I am Alexander Aaron, and your timely aid has been the stuff of legend, good people of Asgard. You enjoy my thanks, and if you e'er need a blade at your side then know mine will be added to your cause."
    The old words spoken, such perfection. He even placed the emphasis on the right syllables and elocuted masterfully. But then why is there a subtle gleam in his eyes?

Sif has posed:
Raised in those very courts from the age of her first steps, Sif at first allows no break in solemn, cool facade but for the faintest divot between her brows. If anything, the Valkyrie in her silvery armor and red leather-padding sits as still and tall as a statue; only Typhon provides animation in the flick of his shortened tail and the rustling of dove-soft wing-feathers as he brings them up to tuck about Sif's legs.

"You know the ways of my people well. I have not seen seen such a display in some time, not since the last supplicants to the All-Father's throne who thought themselves clever," notes the raven-haired woman. Loose strands blow about her neck and slide about it on the breeze as she continues to give Alexander a cool, pale-eyed look. "Still...I thank you for your offer and I, the Lady Sif, Goddess of War and Valkyrie of Asgard, accept your gift. You wield your blade with skill and that is not to be denied if need come of this."

She glances over at Heidi and then dismounts from her pegasus, leaving his reins to hang. He seems inclined to stand after she gives him a patpat on the shoulder. Down she drops in a musical chiming of armor to the rooftop and then she walks over to Alexander to...offer out a hand? No, an arm as a surety of his knowledge of Asgard. "Well met, Alexander Aaron."

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Perhaps Sif may be the courtly one, the one with the glittering armor, properly statuesque, but Heidi is not. Nor does she seem cool about her offering of her name and continued encouragement. "And I am Heidi, daughter of Inger, of Asgard." She offers nothing in the way of titles, certainly not claiming anything as impressive as Sif's. "I do commend your fighting style. I have seen a few Midgardians fight so far but none quite like you."

Her grin becomes broader, if that's possible. "And I am certain you will prove your worth more with time, should you have the determination to. You seem quite determined already, trying to fight this on your own."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Old words rise to haunt the thoughts of the youth as he meets Lady Sif's gaze, and for a brief moment there's a slight softening to his eyes, but he reaffirms his calm veneer and gives a single short nod to her. "Well met, indeed, Lady Sif." And forearms are clasped properly, firmly. And, to be fair, his grip is stronger than most mortals, yet his manner is not aggressive. Three short sharp pumps and done before he releases and steps back, turning his eyes upon Heidi.
    When he turns to Heidi and his eyes widen slightly, not the widening of surprise but when one is trying to focus and perhaps keep one of those eyes from twitching. Another deep breath is taken, but then he lowers his head, sort of smirks and shakes his head, then looks back up and he offers his hand. "I bid you greetings as well, Heidi Ingersdottir, Lady of Asgard."
    Then he looks between and says with that same steady tone. "Though I owe you explanation beyond niceties, granted you in the expression of true friendship for once we have spilled blood..."
    There's a pause as he looks down and he adds in a voice that's much more similar to his normal tone, "Or grossness,"
    A return to the steadiness as he now smiles, though a little sardonic as if he recognizes the cosmic joke the Fates are enjoying right now at his expense. "Then there is an obligation I owe unto you and yours."
    He then adds, "Though I am of Midgard, I am also of Olympus. Mine father Ares has ever felt strongly as to the alliance our people have shared."
    Much to Alexander's chagrin.

Sif has posed:
Sif might not smile just yet -- it is true, Heidi might as well be a shimmering ball of sunshine in comparison to the more staid Asgardian -- but she is pleased that the young Midgardian returned the gesture with appropriate accuracy. He appears to realize its importance and this appeases the Lady enough that the small frown smoothes away into simple patient neutrality now.

But Midgardian? No, not by Alexander's words. Olympian, he claims, and that has Sif glancing over at Heidi in open interest again.

"Ares," she echoes, voice gone consideringly more melodious in direct counter to her harsher earlier tones. "Ah, it took me a moment. The Prince Thor went to a gathering not but three years back. He returned with mention of your name and your ascension." Her ice-blue eyes scan down and up Alexander again, this time more appraisingly. "That explains much of your ability, but not all of it. You have taken the time to hone your swordsmanship: it shows in your personal touches upon the better known themes of attack."

Another glance over at Heidi this time contains a twinkle. "With his heritage, I thought he might be taller, but he will grow yet." Her small smile won't be missed this time. It's the same ribbing she might dole out in the barracks of the Einherjar or in a mead hall.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Olympian? Why did that sound so--

"/Oh/! I have met an Olympian before," Heidi says, then she gives Alexander a good once-over. "He was taller... and most definitely older. But he was most certainly Olympian." She looks to Sif and nods to her as if to agree that yes, perhaps his heritage /could/ give him more height. "I cannot say I have the knowledge of the situation as Lady Sif does, but I can certainly say that you have potential... atop your current skill that is. I hope you do understand I don't mean to sound like I am demeaning you in any respect. Quite the opposite."

Does she ever stop smiling?

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A subtle ease of tensions and as she casually launches that sortie, Alexander endures and then counters with his own sojourn from the sally port. "Everyone seems short from horseback, good lady Sif, perhaps with time both our perceptions may change." A gently worded one at the least as he nods, then adds. "Though thank you for the compliment on my sword play. I try not to embarrass my father." Which is true, and perhaps a touch modest. Still true.
    Then he turns to look at Heidi and he can't hold back the small laugh that slips from him as he lowers his eyes, one hand rubbing at his eyebrows before he looks back up. With eyebrows raised as if trying to keep focus on the objective he tells them, "I appreciate your kind words, ladies." He looks to them both, "If either of you wish a suitable pub lies near or my home is a touch further. If you would enjoy a drink and or something to eat I am at your disposal."