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ROLL: Rogue +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 59
*
The Enchantress was in her brilliant green armor that held intricate swirls and embossed details that were made long before modern civilization existed on Midgard. She had dragged her apprentice along, mentioned having found traces of the Trickster in Muspelheim and then promptly teleported them across the way to a rocky outcropping above a field of scattered rocks and the burnt smell of flesh that carried on the wind.
Hands on her hips she scanned the horizon, frowning darkly. "I know not if we'll find the trace, nor where. But if we can be quick upon our feet, we might yet slip about unnoticed." It helped that the Thunderer wasn't along for this particular quest, such as it was.
*
Said apprentice possesses her own Asgardian armour, in fact, something inimitably suited to harsh climes, her nigh indestructible skin, and the dangers of her cursed nature. Scarlett naturally doesn't wear it, nor draw it out of a chest in the back of her closet, unless called upon. Forcibly, in this case, and she gives Amora the coldest of all possible reactions at the news. The young woman dresses efficiently and quickly without the least bit of regard for having the incomparable goddess of beauty hanging about, pulling her braided hair up by two stone hairpins jabbed through the weight. All this matters to say that Scarlett is armed, and the only places she might endanger a soul in the fiery realms being upon her face; she doesn't need a weapon. In the bitter, seared wastelands of Muspelheim, her auroral green eyes and fair skin ought to be suffering terribly, but they don't. At worst, the bohemian laments the wilting flowers in her hair soon enough turned to ash and dust by the sparks.
"I have been here, Lady. I have a sense of my bearings, assuming the realm does not change too much. Failing that, if I see anyone, I will avail myself of their hospitality." It helps, true, they are alone in this world, one Midgardner unlikely to be expected by a giant. Doubly so the giant isn't likely to think someone so comparatively short can punt him halfway to Niflheim on his arse. What excitement!
*
A glance and Amora arched a brow upwards, and with a flick of her hand, a witchlight bloomed to life. Smaller than others, and it held little in terms of light. But within? Within was a little round ball of something black and shiny. The light dimmed and Amora was left with an obsidian looking ball in the palm of her hand.
"Aye, I am well aware that you have. And you've known the musings of that Trickster. As I have. Combined we should be apt to find what we seek with minimal … trouble." She tilted her head to the side, peering down at the marble sized ball on her palm. She bounced it once, twice and a third time then gently set it down upon the cracked and scorched earth.
"Roll as thou seekest, bounce as tho mayest, and find for me and mine that of the Trickster's line." She murmured, and poked the little enchanted ball.
*
Muspelheim.
This is an inhospitable realm, full of heat and fire. It is one part of the vehicle of creation, one extreme, one /element/, so refined and pure in its purpose to simply be…fiery and full of more fire, and hot rocks and lava, and FIRE, that the only life that manages to live there shares a similar purpose in life. Fire Giants run around being HUGE and flaming, but not in the fun way, in the actually on fire way. They are giants in the way that sharks are fish, carrying none of the wisdom or lovability of other giant species, and instead being far more demon-y, with horns, and fire. Lots of fire. There are dogs there! And they too have flaming bristles and twisted features. There are fish though! If by fish you mean giant, eyeless, lava-swimming serpents with black scales. But what about the weather? The weather is amazing, if you like Pompeii 79AD. Otherwise, it assaults not just with the heat, but with the air being poisoned constantly by sulfur and fumes of the craggy earth rising up through natural vents. Are there birds, you wonder? Of course, there are brave creatures of the sky as well; red plumed death machines that actually HUNT the fire hounds and the fire boars and the fire mice, and they are both repulsive and efficient. The only thing that Muspelheim has going for it is that with all this fire everywhere, they have some Exclusive Metals, that they use to make incredible weapons that can shatter dimensional barriers and spells, and also some nice earrings for the Lady Fire Giants.
Where Amora brings them, following Loki's spell, is into a cavern. This cavern is hosting a lava river. It is oppressively hot, but it does appear to be currently empty. The walkway is large, at least, about 15 feet wide, and the drop into the lava would let you fall for about 30 feet, juuuuust enough time to think about your life choices, before your brainjuices boil while your flesh turns to ash.
*
"As long as you do not think to deliver me to Surtur. I doubt even my diplomatic skills are fit for reckoning with the lord of this place longer than it takes him to render my tongue to ashes." So speak quick, to the point, and get the hell out of dodge. The strategy works for Scarlett. How different to return here bereft of the princes who stood before her in the last great encounter, hurling spells and bringing the wrath of Laevateinn and Mjolnir down upon the unsuspecting. Even if she could spare the time for emotion, the great heat of a living inferno would wash away the effects in a moment. Thus, she pulls her hood over her vivid foxfire tresses, trusting the metallic mesh woven finely throughout and the tempered fabric will resist the worst of the weather and environmental damage, leaving her to contend uncomfortably with the rest.
Amora casts her spell, and those green eyes miss nothing, attuned down to the slightest detail of hand motion or willed word. Floating off the ground by less than an inch, she's poised in such a fashion that someone walking by might imagine Scarlett is unfortunately land bound; rather the point. Illusions are her stock in trade, deception and chaos in a compact form. "How came you to find his whereabouts? It would make sense, I suppose, to bring him here." Her words are soft, tempered in Aesir. Might as well make herself seem like an Asgardian until no longer mistaken as a very, very young Asgardian woman. "I wonder that Kenaz wouldn't lead us to him, for they share an affinity."
Her fingertips dance faintly and settle against her sides. For all the dangers, she does not seem to wish to engage with the native flora or fauna, avoiding it where possible through the pyroclastic flows and the deadly surges flowing from so many vents in the tormented earth, it might as well be said solid ground doesn't really exist.
*
The obsidian ball rolled along to the cave and down the path without pause, it was slow and the two women would have had no trouble keeping up with it. When it did manage to get ahead of them, it would pause, then roll along in a lazy manner. "The spell has Kenaz within it. Along with a few memories of days spent with the Prince and his spell work. We did go to the school for magic together as children." A pause.
"And he seems to have tangled me up in some manner of a contingency plan. His magic is tied to me, and several others throughout the realms. I swear, when we finally get pieces of him back together I will remind him of why one does not use The Enchantress as the mortals call it, 'A back up plan'." She growled, scowling.
Still, she walked deeper into the cave without pause.
*
The trail of magic is as thin as a thread, and winds downwards, along the trail. The trail goes downwards, always, though occasionally it goes through a switchback while Amora and Rogue get the treat of seeing a waterfall of death-lava. It is some 40 minutes of walking before there are signs of inhabitants. There is a crossing, the same way the magic goes, and in front of the crossing are two stone trolls, and one fire hound. The whole place is lit very well by the orange light of the lava river that is flowing under the stone bridge. Above them, far, is a cavern roof, but the place is very large. The rock trolls appear to be arguing about something. Only when the pair get closer do they notice that there is a very slender man, about humanoid height, and entirely made of fire, standing between the trolls. The fire-man, or elemental is likely, seems particularly amused.
*
Magma that might force all the water in her body to explode in steamy fireball eruptions must be avoided. Scarlett needn't visit Iceland or Polynesian Islands much to know the threat when she sees one, and she continues to navigate the route of a rolling stone rather than the vision afforded by the thinnest thread of magic. Occasionally she dabs at her face with the stylized leather vambrace at her wrist, though the comfort offered proves fleeting at best. Beads of perspiration will simply gather and wash away, though the careful placement of the hood stops any from getting into her eyes. For the most part of the journey, she is silent, far more given to the fractured train of her thoughts as the screaming voices buried in her psyche lament, quail, or sing their endless refrains to the empty psychic sky. She's searching within memory without losing her tenuous hold on her self, beckoning to remember what she pried from a flaming denizen's soul in the past.
Spotting the trolls, her natural inclination is the ceiling, measuring the cavern's vaulted roof for possible parapets to conceal herself among or nebulous threats. Hound and trolls are measured in kind, and she holds up her hand to Amora, three fingers raised. Naturally this might have the effect of doing absolutely nothing, the Enchantress being what she is.
*
Amora for her part, looked as fresh and perfect as she had on Midgard. No sweat seemed to appear on her brow nor stained the soft fabrics beneath the armor chest plate. She kept her silence as Scarlett did, her gaze sweeping along the path ahead to spy the giant and hound before them with a frown. A glance was spared for her apprentice as the redhead held up three fingers.
"Well?" She gestured before her, though she kept her voice down at least. Points for Amora willing to be subtle?
She didn't particularly want to face the giants head on, it wasn't her style after all. Impatient as she was to be gone from the pit of flame and heat, she was willing to at least hear her apprentice out.
*
"Fire born between the two trolls," Scarlett murmurs in a tone not bound to carry far; a yard would be excessive. She flexes her toe, point down, assessing the situation through narrowed eyes. "I could reach the other side of the crossing unseen by the normal way. Or open a gate through, it may not gain their attention. The magic continues behind them, or stops with them?"
She'll take her chances with the stone giants if they must, though being someone little given towards harming another living being, she speaks of her approach in less than belligerent terms. The first option is not 'Hurl the hound into the giants and laugh when they fall over into the magma.'
*
For Clarity- There are 2 Rock Trolls, 1 Fire Hound, and 1 Fire Elemental. The Trolls are larger than Dwayne Johnson, but are much smaller than the giants around these parts. The elemental appears to be the same size as a human. The fire hound is about the size of a Great Dane, but chunkier and furrier.
*
The Rock Trolls are totally ignoring any other presences. They appear to be arguing, "I don't EAT beans." one says, then looks at the other one. The fire elemental waves a flaming finger back and forth. "Its still not the answer. You can doooo it…then you can cross the bridge!" in a highly mocking tone towards the trolls. Its the fire hound that is most likely to notice the women.
It does seem currently possible to just avoid them altogether, the lava just keeps on flowing. However, they will have to make 'sneak checks' to see if they can do so without the elemental noticing.
*
A glance was spared for the obsidian ball and Amora rolled her shoulders back, a hand reaching up to sweep her hair back from her decorative battle-esque-tiara that framed her face. "I know not, if it stops with them nor beyond. Tis a directional indicator, it doesn't speak." She gestured to the little black ball at their feet.
"Till we get to such a point I shall not know." She added, lips pursed.
"I can attempt to cast a .. what could be dubbed a 'do not look here' spell." A grimace was made at the unsuitable limits of modern English to describe what she meant, but it was close enough.
"A trick of light to make us appear.. less noticeable. But the hound is troubling. I cannot trick scents."
*
The redhead remains silent and gives Amora a slight nod, her attention upon the two trolls apparently incapable of settling an argument between them. No argument from her as to what the situation is; she merely folds her hands and waits for the outcome of the magic to be done, a good little apprentice in a very turbulent, strange place.
Her sanity may be questioned.
*
The Rock trolls continue to argue over it, trying to solve a riddle of some kind. Finally, one of the Rock Trolls just tries to barge on past the fire elemental and go across the bridge, while the other makes to follow him.
It is impressive how swiftly the elemental goes from being a mischievous-seeming sprite of a fellow, to a flaming inferno of rage. Suddenly the cavern echoes with screams and near the whole bridge is engulfed with flames. The lava rises out of the river, snatching one troll right off the bat, while the other dies slower when the heat reaches the 'melt point' of his rock skin. Within seconds the event is over. The elemental becomes a simple fire-man again and he sits down on his bridge and dusts a little ash off it before motioning the hound over closer to pet it.
Now there are zero trolls.
*
An exhale and Amora frowns, a glint of magic coating over the two women. Scarlett might yet feel a cool brush of power over her, if she paid close attention, but otherwise, the effect was subtle.
As the violence takes over the bridge, Amora pursed her lips, irritation coating her gaze as the elemental settled on the center of the bridge. "Very well." She sighed, and shifted how the armor fit over her waist.
"I don't think sneaking will work, darling." She offered, eyeing the hound.
*
She is a skald, one of the bards of lore, and might as well approach the matter in the old-fashioned means. Scarlett pushes her hood back slightly and then walks forward over the bridge, moving through the swirling ashes that mark the last of the trolls so foolish to deal with a fire spirit cannier than they. She's no Trickster, no spirit of wit on par with Fandral. On the other hand, Scarlett scarce cares of that.
"Lo, honoured halogi, child of noble flame," she calls out in a soft, albeit terribly clear voice. It's not Muspel, the language of the giants, and she appears to walk upon the stone because she does. Her fingers capture the ash and she draws a stave across her forearm, the anchored corners connected together to form lukkustafir; the symbol to turn aside evil on land and sea. As Midgardner wards go, it's old. "Will you entertain a traveler's question, or let me pass freely?"
*
Both ladies would know or get the feeling that this elemental is likely intelligent, /not necessarily evil/, and territorial…or bound to a particular area. Like…maybe this bridge and part of the lava river are 'his' domain.
The address from Rogue gets his attention and he stands up. Now, by all rights, his form is mercurial. He could look like anyone, or anything, but oddly enough he sort of vaguely looks like Loki. However, that alters when his fire-eyes alight upon Amora and her tresses, because his fire hair lengthens, apparently just choosing features he likes and adopting them. "Addressed with such /respect/. Oh no no…not passing freely, can I let you do, but I do love /questions/."
*
Amora dragged a hand through golden locks as she strode forward to the point that she deemed 'enough' as she looked over the mercurial elemental before them. She let her apprentice speak for a long moment, arching a golden brow upwards as her own perfected figure seemed to influence the shapeshift into something less like the princes.
Her gaze remained on the elemental, even as the little obsidian ball rolled beyond her.
*
"What manner of questions, honoured halogi? I shouldn't like to disturb you unnecessarily," Scarlett says. She holds her hands before her, gloved fingers in plain sight, and her posture speaks to openness and a degree of guarded caution, as anyone would have approaching a marvel akin to a fire spirit. Her head tilts up slightly as he takes on more of Amora's likeness, and this generates a smile as much as the polite dip of her body from the waist. It smothers the faint curve of a smile lingering there, before she straightens herself to address the fire elemental once more. "My companion may offer a good many interesting subjects, I am sure, fair guardian."
*
"You have too much on mind." The elemental answers. "Why are you here?" He asks of both of them, head turning back and forth to keep an eye on them.
*
Amora eyed the glass ball from the corner of her eye, then turned her gaze back toward the fire elemental. "We come seeking parts of missing spells, to rejoin what was rent asunder. More over to, clear what should not be." She murmured, telling part of the truth as she practically sashayed forward on the tips of her toes. An exhale of breath, and magic lit up her personage in a warm glow.
"Tell me spirit, do you guard or take watch merely?"
*
The query raised by the spirit warrants a smile from the travel. Why indeed? "I'm playing the Great Game," explains Scarlett simply, for the discussion points Amora raises are perfectly acceptable in their parts. She does not respond to the embers or the flow of power, her fingers steepled in front of her. "Where would you hide something sought by everyone, I wonder?" The musing idea brings an unholy glint to her phosphorescent eyes, absorbing all the vermillion tones around her without losing any of their vibrancy. Not such her rose-red hair which comes alive into its own, living flame, a curtain that twitches and spins through complicated braids of fate wherever they peep out from her hood.
*
The elemental looks between the two ladies and frowns. "Lovely language used for lies, I think. I'm the one asking the riddles," he gestures to the two women and their evasive and mysterious commentary, "not you two. This is my bridge! If you want to use it, you need to tell me why you want to get across, and what you seek, /first/, and then I'll ask you a riddle."
*
Amora hitched a golden brow upwards, and stepped closer, offering her hand out toward the creature of fire. "I am Amora the Enchantress of Asgard. I come looking for a problem that needs solving. Asgard has created problems throughout the realms. I come hence to correct this.." She purred.
"Now, my darling, know I lie to you not." She smiled, ruby lips pulled wide as she leaned her upper body forward.
*
"I speak the truth. I am a skald, a storyteller, and in my words I immortalise tales great or small." Pale faced as she may be, Scarlett is not particularly given to emotion, sights of dread or horror showing in her features. The fine lines of her features sharpen slightly when she pushes her hood back, revealing the entirely humanoid nature of her appearance. One can never outshine the bonfire of Amora, but she is different, in her way.
"I respect, honoured halogi, this is your bridge. You, too, are part of the story. I want to know where a hidden thing is. She wants to know where the spell is. Obviously I cannot tell half a story, for it doesn't have an end. Crossing this bridge may lead me to find the hidden, or maybe you know where these things are, and that will give us a delightful ending. I do not decide what the Norns spin, only where they send me, Skarlati Nornsdottir." Scarlett, in other words.
*
"There is nothing hidden here. I would know of it. This path leads to the mines. You are Asgardian. What news of the King? He promised he would come back this way and teach me more riddles to ask." If Amora keeps up her seduction, she's quite likely to end up having sex with the elemental right there on the bridge. he looks highly influenced by it. consuming. desire. devouring. these are all things that drive him.
*
Amora had little use waiting around for the word play to be played out. The mention of the King drew a slight arch of her brows but then she was stepping forward to attempt to steal a kiss from the elemental. He seemed receptive, desired her, and thus she planned to submit him to her will via her enchanted lips. It had ensnared far more, complicated, creatures immortal or otherwise to her control.
If it allowed her kiss, she'd draw away, secure in the knowledge that her magic was, in this at least, unparalleled throughout the realms. No one else had quite the market on Enchanted kisses quite like her.
*
Amora has control over the elemental, who seems to like her very much! He's also a passionate kisser and may or may not give her fire herpes.
*
Amora Firecrotch and the legend of the burning man begins. Scarlett shrugs her shoulders slightly, for her kiss doesn't have quite the same effect. Not as though anyone here would know that, on the other hand, but she glances towards the bridge and back towards its guardian entwined with the golden-haired creature. "Lo," she sings a note to prove herself more than able to carry a tune, and then dusts a little ash out of her face.
*
Amora waved the creature aside, her figure flickering with power that had protected her from burns. "Lovely, pet. Stand aside and escort us to where we have need. Answer any and all of mine apprentice's questions."
Then she was stepping aside and looking down at the little glass ball.
*
The elemental steps aside and his dog doesn't bother them either. They can now pass freely, but the glass ball is still confused. However from her new vantage, Amora can see why. The same effect that is on Amora and Rogue, is also on this elemental. But, he isn't the only being connected to the spell. The trail also goes on, meaning there is someone else as well.
*
"When they say you are too hot to handle, they mean it." With a flicker of her fingers over her shoulder, Scarlett drops in a step closer. "Have any not of Muspelheim come this way recently? In the last month, perhaps? Can you tell her of lost magic come this way?" It's not necessary to ask whom; she's had that answer since the start. "And, noble flame, what lies beyond your bridge?"
*
A look was shot toward Scarlett and Amora walked onwards, beckoning her newest creature along. "Questioning my methods, darling? Lady Firemane you may yet be, but I think a displeased creature such as we saw would doubtlessly dry out your lovely skin." She murmured. Following the obsidian ball forward.
*
"The King came by this way, to the mines, weeks ago. I've been his friend for some time. How's he doing, being King? The mines are down this way. I don't know anything about lost magic." Though he answers Scarlett's questions, he really keeps looking at Amora, the enchantment on him forcing a preference. When the elemental starts moving with the group, the ball seems less confused and follows the forward trail, which does indeed eventually lead them into a mine.
*
The fire-tressed skald pulls her hood back up, taking once more to the grand adventure she's set herself upon. The great and glorious epics of the past begin so, and she cannot help but follow the spin of the Norns' distaff and spindle, humming softly under her breath to set the tune into her thoughts. There lies a certain grace in not knowing what lies ahead. "She is quite remarkable, isn't she? And was the king delving stones as lovely as the Lady Amora, or could they possibly compare in some way?"
*
Amora looked unruffled by the looks aimed her way, that was to be expected after all. "Do you mean King Loki?" She drawled, she expected it, but it was better to ask than to assume. Her heels clicked with each step, her lips pressed into a thin line as she sauntered further down the path.
Otherwise, she let her apprentice do the talking.
*
Loki says, "yes, King Loki. I don't think he was mining for jewels. He doesn't seem the sort to mine at all, really. No, he was meeting someone. A girlfriend I think. She supervises the mines here. And they mine metal." The elemental explains. The mines have a low activity, at present. The people there are all giants, but they seem pretty concerned with their tasks, not the tiny people."
*
Rogue tips her head, the silence measured as far as her mood goes. Getting grips with the news, she says slowly, "Metal for something in particular, a weapon or something else?" Curiosity only extends so far.
*
A glance was spared over her shoulder as Amora marched onwards, following the little obsidian ball along the path ever deeper into the fiery cavern. She looked determined to see it through to find this female that Loki seemed to be meeting here on Muspell. How deep did the rabbit hole go?
"Uru metal?" She offered, and it partly a question and partly an assumption. The metal was hard to find, much less forge. But this would be a hot enough environment if there were deposits.
"Does this mine find uru-metal from time to time?" She finished off her question and pursed her lips, a glance back and then ahead once more.
*
The elemental still isn't aware that King Loki is no more, and he follows Amora blindly, of course, but in Scarlett he shows more suspicion. "I don't know. This is the furthest I have ever been from my home." Probably true. He's away from his domain only because Amora has made him pass that border. There is, however, some activity from the mine. Not the giants, no, but a figure smaller than them. She is making an angry beeline for the trio. As she nears, she is apparently a teen in development, with long, brown hair, wearing a teal, formal dress. Her skin is tanned, not red. She may well be of Asgard, or one of the other realms that produce such people. "I know who YOU are!" She points at Amora, then points at Rogue, "And I don't know who you are, but you are going to tell me, RIGHT NOW!" with all the demanding shrillness of a teen. She ignores the elemental.
*
For Amora, the second trail leads straight to this teen and she /also/ has the same spell on her that Amora, Rogue and the elemental all share.
*
Leave the fire elemental to deal with Amora, whereas teenagers are infinitely more familiar to someone, presumably, not all that much older than one herself. Columbia and the Institute offer an excellent education in the business of handling cocky, impetuous young people without seasoned adult temperaments. Hood high, her braids are concealed, and she can resolve to enjoy a touch more anonymity while the 'girlfriend' in particularly fine attire spits vitriol at them. A moment to shuffle composure back into the deck ought to pay dividends later. What she will give for a proper bottle of mead after this whole adventure is beyond telling. Maybe she'll drink two of them, and down the remainder of the embassy's cellars in the process. Taking in the activity of the mine a beat longer in silence, the young woman spreads her hands. "I am the skald who travels with her." It's entirely the truth.
*
A wave and Amora rolls her shoulders back, an airy sigh escaping ruby lips as she eyed the petulant figure that stormed down their way. As the ball ceases its momentum she hooked an eyebrow upwards, and called it back to her palm with a glow of power where it vanished.
"How lovely, then we might skip introductions. This is my handmaiden, and sometimes skald." She flicked a dismissive glance toward Scarlett and back to the irritated looking woman.
"I am looking to collect the spellwork that Loki left behind. Now that it's all here?" She hooked an eyebrow upwards, "Perhaps you can tell me why the Trickster's magic is all over you.."
*
"I do not have any idea what you are talking about. What /magic/?" The teenager props her hands on her hips and cocks them to one side. "He didn't come down here to cast any spells. He's done enough damage with magic from years ago. Where is he? I have some things I'd love to say!" This chick is peeeeeeved.
*
The skald offers the merest flick of her fingers, one arm braced laterally across her chest, the other vertical. She cups her elbow, almost idly reacting. "You remind me nothing so much as Lorelei." A moment spent musing on the possibility leads her to speak again,. "Has he done you an ill turn, Lorelesma? I fear you would not be the first, but surely you know the position of the lady. She may be able to help you, no doubt. At least we can offer sympathy. Sympathy so often does involve amends, doesn't it?"
*
Amora shot the woman a dry look, unamused or perhaps unenthused about this whole mess. Contingency plan! Pfft.
"So do we all, darling. Now hold still, I will try to.. hmm, 'figure things out'." She drawled, a sharp look aimed at Scarlett for the Lorelei comment. Her sister was normally a taboo subject and it looked likely that the Enchantress was most assuredly not going to forget that joke. Even if it amused her faintly.
Green eyes shut as she summoned power, and attempted through various incantations to tug free whatever spell work it was that Loki had put on the elemental and woman to her.
*
ROLL: Amora +rolls 1d20 for a result of: 1
*
ROLL: Amora +rolls 1d20 for a result of: 15
*
The elemental speaks up. "They won't tell me where he is, either."
The teenager just frowns at the Skald. "What is this? Give-people-names-they-don't-want, day? Keep your assumptions, you tart! Who I am concerns only Lord Surtur!" (and due to the rules about naming potential PCs in other RP, she cannot be anyone so specific)
Loki's spell was wrought with Gungnir in hand, and Amora cannot counter it without a source as powerful. Moving it though, she is able to find a sneaky little back way to be able to do it. The moment the magic transfers from the elemental, and the teenaged girl, they both seem to be puzzled for a second. Its the girl that yells her distress first, "WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!"
*
In English, the side comment is terribly pointed and amused, a cover for the deadly intent behind it. "Did you ever look for the thorn, the sword? I need that in hand, faerie queen." In the event that anyone here speaks the prevalent language of a good portion of Midgard's developed lands, won't that be a surprise to hear Scarlett speaking it. Though the reaction from the troubled girl is more than a little plainly in need of trouble. The skald flexes her fingers and then steps to the side, golden wires stripped back. She holds out her hand. "Peace. I apologise for upsetting you."
*
Amora scowls faintly as the magic doesn't dissolve, a twist of her hands, a flash of green light and at least she was able to shift that power away from the two and onto her own traces of the spell. She'd really have to figure out a better means of storing these little pieces of magic they were picking up. But for the moment? It was just as secure on her person as it was anywhere else.
A slitted glance of narrow eyes landed on the young woman and elemental and she frowned faintly. "We're finished here. The details needn't concern you."
*
The teenager frowns even deeper. "We were talking about something and I was mad and then you made me forget what I was talking about, you witch!! Why are you even here?"
The beguiled elemental tries to get closer to Amora. "She's here because she's my lover…"
The girl's expression declares she doesn't believe that for an instant.
*
Note, noble flame elemental is not helping in the least. Amora may have what is sought, though Scarlett isn't quite up to that level. She closes the distance entirely between the teenager in the gown and herself, dropping her hand lightly upon the girl's shoulder or arm, should it be bare. Asgardian fashion for gowns seems to favour the absence of cloth altogether, just strategic metal held together by a few thin chains, but she knows exactly what she needs and where she needs it. "Don't strike him. It would not be worth it," she murmurs, peacemaker until nonviolence fades into shadows, and the betrayal of her cursed flesh comes dancing to the fore.
If flesh meets flesh, her restraint snaps, no more than a cobweb in a gale. The worst part of her touch: it's an ecstatic experience, far from painful.
*
A frown and Amora rolled her eyes, dismissive of the entire ordeal. "Very fascinating." She drawled, folding her arms as she watched Scarlett. One hand already lifted to sketch out a portal that would take them away from Muspell's fiery landscape.
"Finish up, darling. I have dinner with my beloved tonight. I'd hate to be late." She tossed golden locks over her shoulder, and glanced back to the elemental.
"Go along back to your bridge darling, I'll be there shortly." She winked, and blew a kiss.
*
The teenager is gripped by Rogue! Dun Dun DUN! Rogue is assaulted by a pretty weird life. The girl doesn't seem to have been born, or have memories of being a toddler, and there are scattered memories of Surtur and living a life for some centuries in Muspelheim. There are, however, NO MEMORIES of Loki at all, in any way. She doesn't remember parts of the conversation they just had, even.
The Elemental is happy to go back to his bridge and does so with a smile.
*
Amora summoned the magical portal with a shrug and barely a glance back at the elemental or the teen. "Come along, apprentice." She muttered and with a wave of coolness stepped through the portal to Midgard's, comparatively, chill environs.
A flick of her hands and as soon as Scarlett was through, the portal snapped shut with a spiral of green smoke.
*
The silent redhead nods to Amora, trusting in her to drag away the bonds of reality from the realm. Muspelheim no longer holds her fast as she steps through, blazing thoughts aching bright in the silence of the mind.