1963-11-24 - Run to Paradise
Summary: Hrimhari, Jean and Rogue meet while out jogging, and the Prince has an offer for his two friends…
Related: None
Theme Song: "Run to Paradise" - Choirboys
hrimhari rogue jean 

The prince has not been back in Midgard for long.

And he has come back… to chaos. A dead, Two-Leg president, the blame falling upon Asgardian Two-Legs — his own family, no less — and the rest of the Two-Legs are in an uproar.

It wouldn't bother him… all that much, if it had not affected the canine population in America (indead around the world) so much. The dogs feel their humans' distress, and it is reflected in their own behaviour.

Therefore, Prince Hrimhari has gone for a run — or sorts — a phenomenon the Two-Legs refer to as 'jogging'. It is too slow to be called a 'run', and since there is naught to chase, one cannot declare it a 'Hunt' — therefore, in Two-Leg form, the prince… jogs.

The sun is close to setting; it is still considered afternoon, even if it is late afternoon, and there are only a handful of folk using the joggers' path at the moment. The quiet… while not perfect, is preferable.


Running. That's all Jean has in the world. After speaking with Emma, having her time in the Isolation room, and just needing to run it out.. she was there.

There was a certain abandon when it comes to running. Despite the rush of cold air that hits her, her body was heating up tremendously. Save for the fact that there was a firebird that burns within her soul, she allows out a trickle of heat so that she may remained warm and not close to dying a slightly chilled death due to sweat. She breathes it out as well in time, only stopping as she feels the first burn within her legs, her body bending to plant her hands upon her knees as she looks up towards those that pass by. And yet it was a familiar figure that gets her attention, her body lifting and turning to follow him. She knows him! In fact, she hasn't seen him since she rescued the boy! She thought she'd never see him again..

"Boy.. sure is nice to see a famil.. familiar face!" She calls out, huffing lightly.


The wolf-prince comes to a halt, appearing as to have only strolled rather than jogged, and offers Jean a polite bow of his head. <Milady Sunhair, Born of Fire,> says he telepathically to her — he knows of her gifts — accompanied by a warm smile upon his face.

"This one is pleased to smell you are well," he continues aloud, speaking English. "Would you care rest? Do you have water? This one can provide if you do not."


As he comes to a halt, she slows down as well, the little breaths that were blown out came in little huffs as she drags in another, then releases a cough. His words to her mental psyche causes her a grin, her hand placed to her chest as she bows, her red hair flying a bit about as she pops right up.

King of Pups! Illustrious speaker of the wild and the world!

Well, she tried. She did not know that he was a wolf-prince, only that he was like her. He could speak to the animals and turn partly as one. He must be a werewolf, or something odd. She loves the something odds.

"I wouldn't mind a stroll, if I sit down, I'll stop." She gestures to the trail now, both hands placed behind her back as she begins to walk. Did she have water? She shakes her head. Sometimes she went without. "I wouldn't mind some water. But.. I have to question.." She states. "..why do I feel troubled?" Her brows lifts towards him. "I know that's the general consensus of the world. Troubled. Worried. But to feel it this strong.. right here when there's no one else around?" She smiles, dropping hints everywhere.


Hrimhari coughs, putting a hand to his mouth in politeness, and smiles a little sheepishly. "Perhaps 'tis this one's trouble thou art sensing; you have Hrimhari's apologies. A moment…"

At her request for water, the silver-haired man stoops down to the ground and lays a palm flat upon it. The earth shifts as roots grow up at the prince's bidding, forming a bowl of sorts that slowly fills with pure water.

When the bowl — rather like a large mug or tankard — is full, it comes free from the earth… and the prince holds it out to Jean.

"The troubles of Hrimhari vex him because the paws — nay, fingers — of the world are pointed at his kin, for what happened to the Two-Leg President. This one's family is blamed… and by association… thus is Prince Hrimhari."

He hangs his head a bit at that.


The world has gone topsy-turvy in more ways than one. What qualified as 'normal' last week fell down stone dead, and got surpassed leaps and bounds by a sly man in green with a smile.

An old book from the study on Wildenstein Mansion is held in hand, pages thumbed through. No one there would complain at its absence, a primer practically childlike by their standard, scrawled over in notes and details in fine, rather simplified runes. Anyone here even capable of reading the symbols would probably be at a loss for their purpose, unless they happen to be older than 1,200. Scarlett does not concern herself, trotting down the pathless track through trees and woods, weaving around bushes practically as a matter of habit. Her light steps are unfairly measured, tethered hardly at all by Earth. Revealing her capacity to fly is rare, a sign for her distraction by news and worse, and she dismisses the existence of anyone else until her thoughts crackle electric.

Head snapping up, she parts her lips and tastes the air. Rather, too, she feels the autumnal earth, her months of education speaking for a deep familiarity of things Asgardian. Things magic. A source one way or another. "«Brother in silver?»" The language of the old world, for she hasn't the hearing to decipher Jean's voice yet. Quick to move, she heads that way.

Well, doing this in Asgardian leathers is going to be interesting.


"You don't have to ever apologize for your emotions.." Jean murmurs quietly, but takes a slight step back as she watches him work. And it was a glorious thing. Jean was often sometimes troubled by the world and the people within, but moments like this were committed to memory, along with a tilt upright of her head.

A thunderous mind of red was incoming. Her other half. That too bears a smile though she does not make herself known to the mind from afar. She can peg Scarlett from a sea of blood.

And as the earthen cup and water was produced, Jean grips with both hands to drink. Her eyes widen at water so pure, that she drains the cup in one following. Even as she listens to him, her head tilts..

No. Their head tilts.

The joining of spirits told by one eye burning with a ring of fire around the green and other normal. -Someone- else was peeking, and listening.

"So you're an Asgardian?" She purses her lips slightly. "The man in green, Loki, is your friend?" Another beat. "I met him once. He gave me rose colored glasses. Then.. again… when I was looking for Scarlett. He didn't remember me." Odd thing that. She never, and possibly ever will put that one together.


The wolf-prince's eyes flash as Lady Sunhair's aura… shifts. It stands out so much more than most other Two-Leg's he knows — in its own way. The closer he comes to know someone (even a Two-Leg of Midgard) the easier it is to See… and Hear…

He bows, this time much more regally.

"Loki… is grandsire to Hrimhari. Fenris — ," and his lip curls at the mention of Fenris. " — the God-Wolf, Harbinger of Ragnarok… is this one's father. Hrimhari is Prince of all Wolves, in the Realms-Nine."

A pause.

"And apparently of dogs also, as Milady Sunhair has seen. Please — keep the cup. It is a gift of the Earth and should be cherished." The wolfman smiles then, not only for the giving of the gift, but he can smell Scarlett's approach — and his smile widens even more.


The bird ought to know the signature of her. The redhead has ever so briefly claimed a shard of her unconscious host, so many months ago. Its secrets she does not revisit, the memory for the bombarding thoughts and telekinetic bursts enough to enhance a deep, gentle vein of compassion for Jean's burden in life. It will not be something spoken of here.

Yet Scarlett carries ephemeral traces of the worlds beyond Midgard, cosmic vapors painted upon her creamy skin and starsheen lost in her luminous copperfire hair.

Forth draws the redheaded creature, though, painted in leathers and silver mesh up her sides that declares forthright of her allegiances. Wear the colours best suited to her, creature of sky and wild, and she spreads her fingers wide in a gloved greeting that becomes a wave for Jean. The surprise wrought in her face at seeing that most beloved of friends grows only with another friend in the making, and her book will be held in place, fingers bracing it wide. "Jean! Team Redhead holds the very heaviest of burdens this week. Stars and bells, it's good to see you are whole."

That will be enough to capture her in a ringing bound, mindful of not flattening the poor girl or warranting Hrimhari to leap around with her in a puppy pile in a crushed, bowl-shaped crater on the ground.

"The bold prince once more graces us together. This is a welcome thing," she says. Language is simplified; she is dead tired or distracted badly, and it shows.


The shift is no more subtle than night and day; if one were to truly look to her aura, one would see a pure white upon one half of her body, and fire that draws itself from her appendages of another. And a wing. A wing that reaches across the stars that blaze in all it's glory, yet simplified.

And as Hrimhari bows, Jean takes a step back. Both brows lifted in surprise, her hands remaining pressed behind her back as he makes his formal introductions, including the family lineage that he was born into. Has she read about the norse teachings of old? NOPE! Jean doesn't know jack shit! History is not her fortay!

She does give a laugh however, clapping her hands briefly. "I've managed to at least find a lovely friend in He-Who-Wags." She mentions. "Though I have not seen him as of late, I think someone else has managed to capture his heart. It is obviously not us three." Jean. Hrimhari, and the Phoenix. There was a shift of her eyes as Scarlett comes into view, her smile widening upon one side and lessening on the other.

It was a rather odd look, one attempting to wrestle control of the other, the cat who's cabin window has been opened, to take control of who would be the first to show affection.

The Cosmic One or the girl. It was hard to say.

But whether or not it was warranted, both of the She's know best. A hug was given, if allowed, though parts that remain clothed were touched. If it was a squeeze of the shoulders, let it be that. An arm around the waist, that too. Either way, she would not seek to refuse her of the kindness that they both show. "I miss you." She says to the woman. And then a look to Hrimhari. "I've actually missed you too, by the by."


The Prince of Wolves laughs at the arrival of Scarlett and offers her, too, a low bow of respect, his golden eyes gleaming. When he stands upright once more, the Son of Fenris regards both his Two-Leg friends, merely taking a moment to… enjoy.

Being alive.

"Milady Bloodcrown, it pleases this one's heart to see thee in his hour. Our adventures hither and yon have not diminished thy spirit even a little."

Turning toward Jean and the Firebird within her again, he continues, "Thou speakest of Dodger, methinks. He embarks on an errand at the bidding of his Prince. There is one Two-Leg in this city who needs him more than any other — but thou shalt see him again; you have the promise of Hrimhari."

There is another slight pause, followed by… "This one should like to Hunt someday with Sunhair Fireborn as well… thou art welcome, always — as we, twain, have Hunted." He refers to Scarlet with an open hand.


The bow is met by one in turn, an equal scissor-fold from the waist embodying command over her physical form that comes from a yoga master's awareness. Her engaged abdominal muscles tighten to pull Scarlett straight again, her braids tumbling down over her shoulders and across her back in an Asgardian tapestry full of dreams and hopes, life in the weaver's art.

"The honoured Prince holds a valued purview in times such as these, for the spirit resolves itself to brighter incandescence certain of the present company's candor and warmth," she says quietly, and then spreads her fingers fairly wide.

The book squeezed against her side gives little hint to its contents save the lovely ragged edge of the pages need much love, and there's a faded scrawl running over one of them. Oh, primer of one Loki of Asgard; she's going to study you to no end.


Ah. Greetings.

Things that Jean are used to! Which, were not as elaborate as Scarlett and Hrimhari produced, but it was greetings all the same. At least that she could tell. She steps back to make room for the two, each speak gives a glance from one and the other, her head tossed back and forth as she slowly rocks back and forth.

It was clear that she didn't know what the hell they just said! So much so that when he mentions the 'Hunt' that he had taken Rogue upon, Jean just.. stares.

'Learn to throw a spear.'

"What?" Jean asides loudly to the Phoenix, then finally perks up. "Oh! Like, hunt for berries and fruit and things of that nature?"

Lost. She's totally lost. And that's okay!


The Prince of Wolves smiles to Jean as he begins walking along again, beckoning his two friends to follow. "We have Hunted — and still Hunt — threats to the balance of Nature across all the Nine Realms. This one proposes taking thee across the branches of Yggdrassil to Asgard and realms beyond, not merely to seek danger and end it before innocents suffer — ," and he looks over at Scarlett.

" — like the Two-Leg She-child we did rescue… Sarnai. Rose of the Mountain — but also to view beauty unlike anything thou hast beheld here in the Middle Plane. Earth. This one invites thee to run, fly, to look, to hear and to say 'Nay,' in the face of peril…"

He smiles.

"And to spend time in the company of those whose spirits are kindred to thine."


"What he means to say is he secretly obtained a ward — almost, not quite a daughter — that will tweak his grandfather's nose, and be raised as a proper rose among the fine people of a place whose name is beyond my knowledge," Scarlett murmurs sotto voce to Jean, her crackling emerald eyes full of a witchfire blaze hailing far too close to mischievous. Anyone seeing that sly smile ought to run away fast as their legs will carry them, and dive into an interdimensional bunker before the nuclear winter sets upon Midgard. "You should say yes, for failing to do so leaves me as the foremost redhead of those places. Which I do like, but 'tis not right the prince runs with a solitary pack of one. Two is better."

Shine on, you crazy diamond.

Her mild regard flickers with a measure of a smile, and she snaps the book shut, clearly willing to forsake study for a moment whilst another business lies before her; friendship always wins out. "Know you now, I have sworn my pledge to safeguard this one to the best of my abilities, that she might never know herself to be alone." That promise has weathered a great deal, and Bird, pay attention. She means it.

Please don't let that end with her corpse on the blue area of the moon.

"Team Redhead?"


Jean perks up and begins to walk, following along the path that was set before them, the previous feet that pounded the way to train the earth to part with their movements. She listens all the while, there was little understanding there but that didn't mean she couldn't be attentive. His words were like poetry that promised adventures, and well? She still didn't know what the hell he was talking about!


And then Scarlett speaks to clarify. Which did nothing to help the poor, uneducated redhead. But the other has a book, one that she would be sure to read on her travels. In fact, mayhap that is what she needed. To get away from the troubles of the world for a while. To learn. To adventure.

'To fly.' The bird said. A wistful gesture indeed.

"Uhm.. okay!" Great, she was going. "I have to let others know so they won't worry." She says quietly. "Would.. it be alright if we bring Gabriel? I know no one knows him as well, I don't know him either but, I just think he's too precious to leave alone. And I promised him I'd take care of him."


Hrimhari goes from smiling, firstly at Scarlett for her eloquent explanation of his offer, and then at Jean as her confusion is… somewhat adorable — to frowning as he considers her request.

"The scent of this Gabriel is… unknown to Hrimhari. This one is responsible for all whom he brings into the other Realms… no matter the promises of another Two-Leg. Apologies. Hrimhari intends no disrespect. We shall meet this Gabriel first and smell what we shall smell…"

He smiles again.

"But as for thee, does this mean you accept the offer of Hrimhari?"


Empathy serves Scarlett well; it's one of the few things keeping her alive at this point. A flash of a smile follows the uncertain response from Jean, and she adds, "He means we go to other places then Earth to perform acts of goodwill. Or simply to see them, and share in the wonders around us. Nothing that should forbid either of us from finishing our studies, though the semester is nearly done and in the face of so much upheaval, I'm unsure whether my degree is ever going to happen."

'Hi, I need a few weeks off because my professor is a prince from another realm. Sound good? Oh, yeah, I can write a paper about how he didn't kill the president.' That will likely never fly at Columbia without thought control, well outside Scarlett's native purview without tapping into the redhead or the prince in question. Blame this idea on Another Brick In The Wall.

Back to the present (sorry, reader), the young woman inclines her head towards Hrimhari and then back to Jean. "Is that one even stable? Last when I encountered him, with Marie-Ange, he was scarce capable of enduring remembering without pain. His ability to function is unclear, and I worry he might be harmed or at risk without some kind of control." Trust her to understand control better than most.


"I can take you to meet him." Jean says with slightly glittered eyes. It wasn't as if she were to break down into tears, but she was fiercely protective of the man who reminds herself so much of.. her. "But no disrespect. I understand." She smiles a little, her head nodding faintly.

Though as Scarlett explains even -better-, Jean -has- to ask. "You mean.." Her finger points up, lifting towards the sky to indicate the stars and everywhere else within. She was willing to go. But if Rogue answers as she thinks? Would she jump at the chance? Hell. Yes. Barring the vacuum of space doesn't kill her on impact, but yet she knows the bird will save her.


Jean smirks inwardly as she purses her lips towards Scarlett. "And yet, you two trust me to go? I'm prone to blow a gasket at any moment and let the bird out of the cage." She points out. "And you're trusting me to become a cosmonaut." Though, she wasn't being bitchy. She was pointing that little thing out, aside.. aside..

"He has gotten considerably better since then, I promise. He actually rambles now. It's rather sweet. I'm teaching him how to count syllables and how to read childrens books. Once he's got the basic wording down, I want to move him onto Shakespeare. Oh! And he's a vegetarian. I don't think he likes meat. But he loves milk."

Who was rambling now?


There is a smile upon the Wolf-Prince's face as he listens to his friends, but particularly Jean as it is she whom he is inviting to join himself and Scarlett — one whose faith, trust, and friendship he has already earned (and she, in turn, his).

"This one does not know this word… 'cosmonaut'," says he after a moment, glancing at Scarlett for clarification. "Hrimhari travels upon the branches of Ygg — ah, this one begins to smell the confusion." And he reaches forth as though to take Jean's hand.

"There are paths between worlds like the fingers upon your paw; imagine them to be branches — magical branches. Hrimhari can lead thee upon them, and bring thee unto any and all of the Nine Realms…Thou hast only to walk — or run — with him."

Then he looks at Scarlett.

"Perhaps it would be easier to call upon Heimdall to hasten such a journey? As for this Gabriel, if he is sick… perhaps the healing of Hrimhari can help him?"


"I want to keep him safe, Jean. The circumstances we located him in make me gravely concerned for his welfare; anyone whom would install a man in a coffin as a means of delivery have questions to answer. Answers at the end of my bare hands, if they prove to be difficult about the matter." Protectiveness lingers in one; in Scarlett, violence is nearly an unknown except when it is not, and this streak of unmitigating pride might be a touch alarming if the world were not in such upheaval. Everything is different, even as some remain the same.

Her deep breath proves that in a heartbeat. "My prince of the silvered sea, be thou assured that Lady Jean is the most steadfast of companions. Should she slip, 'tis not a catastrophic endeavour. My sworn word, darling, is to keep you safe. At the very deepest part of that is trust. We trust one another, yes? Should the bird come out, perhaps she can be rationalized with, and if not…" The moment of truth descends very simply here, utterly so. "I am expendable more than others. It may take a few moments longer, but at least they get away. Perhaps your companion will see that my love for you extends to both of you, and I present no harm, nor would he. Life is sacred to us."

While the simple cosmology lesson is laid out, she contemplates the conversation betwixt them. "Imagine us traveling through skins about a fruit. Earth lies at the center, everything else outward from it. If that is easier. As for Gabriel, I think an introduction to him would be the best start. I am no medic." Liar. She is. Sort of. "Rather than snatch him into something unfamiliar, could we not approach from a softer angle and give him a sense of security in our presence? For all I know, he fell from space and will blossom like a sunflower at dawn when exposed to something unfamiliar. I do not object, I merely want him stable and safe." Her head tilts and she stares up at the sky, reflection wrought across her expression. "That's a new sentiment. Even for me."


"Like an astronaut. I think.." Jean really just thought she made that word up, but still. If Hrimhari could smell the confusion, prepare for a little bit more. She stops once he takes her hand, and begins to draw out the lines of the world and how they connect. And still, there was a simple emptiness to thought, Jean was even more flummoxxed before. Walking and running with him? Like physically? That's how they'll travel?

Jean murmurs.. "That's going to be a lot of running.. can't we just fly?"


Though, as Rogue speaks, Jean slowly takes her hand from Hrimhari's grasp, her head bobbing completely. "I don't know if Hemmahaw can help Gabriel. If Hemmahaw is like me and Charles, and a little bit better than us.. and if Gabriel is okay with it, I say why not." Her shoulders shrug faintly.

Though, further conversation allows the eye of 'Sauron' it's revelation, a mild peeking out of her left eye in a slight flicker that fades soon after. The window was closed on that aspect of her for now, a simple understanding which was met by silence.

"We understand." She says quietly. But then compounds. "Yes. A meeting first. He's getting really good with people. He thinks before he speaks.. and.." She shakes her head faintly. "I won't say he's new.. I won't say that he's safe.. I will say that, I'd trust him, even if he doesn't know himself. And I trust you all with him."


The Wolf-Prince frowns in confusion at Jean, tilting his head to the side, and soon chuckles good-naturedly. "Thou speakest of 'Heim-dall', He Who Watches. And… running with Hrimhari — or upon Hrimhari — is like unto flying… as Milady Bloodcrown can attest."

Speaking Scarlett, the prince takes a step toward her, and reaches for her hands with his. Looking into her eyes he speaks with infinite softness and equally infinite sincerity:

"Never think that thou art expendable to this one," says he as he closes his hands over hers. "Thous hast been a rock when this one needed refuge, and wings when he needed uplifting. Thou art as much Wolf as Two-Leg, and Hrimhari is pleased to consider thee… one of his pack. Thou art as near to this one's heart as any Two-Leg has come, and Hrimhari would be… diminished without thee."

A pause.

"Never forget. Wolves…do not lie."


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