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Nighttime in Greenwich Village.
It was not the most… common of call-outs for Emergency Services. At least, one would hope such thing is not common. After responding to an emergency phone call to 911 to a quaint little house in Greenwich, EMS personnel were greeted by…
Two naked people (a man and a woman) stuck in the kitchen and suffering from dubious injuries: the woman had burns down her back from hot vegetable oil, and a large contusion to the side of her head, while the man suffered one severely bruised penis.
The dog in the yard barks incessantly, which has attracted the attention of another individual who is not with EMS. He, a silver-haired, golden-eyed fellow in a suit, stands in the yard of the house as EMS arrive, consoling the dog. From the expression on the man's face, he is…
Thoroughly gobsmacked with shock.
*
This is not a call where anyone is going to die. Maybe their pride, their egos, but not their bodies. So, it's not a call that Hilde's interested in. It's still a call she has to *make*, sadly. Her partner with her, Hilde goes in to give what basic treatment she can but her mind is clearly elsewhere. SHe's getting worse and worse to work with these days, as her sleeplessness deepens, the other side of her personality takes over more, and Barney is gone even longer. How she's not been fired is a miracle.
So, when she sees that familiar, silver-haired fellow in the back yard, she does a double take. "…You got this. Get them to Metro General. I'll… catch up." Her partner sputters, of course, not supposed to be alone. Hilde doesn't care. After the initial first aid is given with the habitual carelessness of a medic that is phased by nothing, she stands up and abandons the scene. Like a shadow of a ghost, she moves out the door and towards the man in the yard, studying him curiously.
*
"The She bit the He??" Hrimhari remarks to the dog, full of incredulity. The dog — a 'bitser', of so many different breeds it is hard to tell which one he is — is adamant in his reply, and just that much disturbed too.
"Bit him on his…oh, Great Odin's Raven, this is too much. But why?" The prince smells the approach of a familiar friend and stands up, grateful to see her.
"Soul-Warden," he murmurs with a broad smile, showing teeth. "'Tis very good to smell thee, old friend. These… Two-Legs are… give this one Jotuns any day or night. How doth thou?"
The dog barks and Hrimhari winces.
"Apparently, the He was cooking with oil while the She… Hrimhari cannot speak it aloud. It becomes clear why so many beings try to enslave Two-Leg kind…"
*
A husky, careless sort of laugh escapes Hilde's lips as she hears that news. She just shakes her head, half in disbelief, half in the sadness that she too WELL believes what happened. "Yeah…Midgardians are… f*cked, buddy. Completely f*cked." She admits huskily. It's odd, as there is a higher, more old fashioned tone to the cant of her voice now. Closer to how other Asgardians speak. But she still has her Bronx dialect and jargon, curse words included. It's like both sides of her have come to a comfortable middle.
"…They'll be okay. No wound they have taken is fatal, save perhaps to their pride. But Midgardians are good at healing such injuries." She adds a moment later, "F*cking idiots." And then she's leaning up to tug him into a broad, tight hug against her skinny, bones and wind frame. SHe's still not put on any weight. A moment later, the dog is getting a fond pet as well. "Hello, my friend."
*
The dog barks.
"Arthur," says Hrimhari aloud, translating after wrapping Hilde in a tight hug. "He alerted the entire neighbourhood — and the news has spread. This one can hear the dogs in Hell's Kitchen…" Hrimhari smiles. "They are still laughing."
The smile turns into a chuckle as he steps back from his dear friend, the Valkyrie. "A woman is too skinny," he tells her with a glance up and down. "Is Brunnhilde eating enough? Sleeping enough? Hrimhari is hardly a woman's denmother… but he loves thee as his pack. …This one also agrees with thee regarding some of these — perhaps most of these — Two-Legs."
"For the last time," a paramedic can be heard addressing the unfortunate couple as they are put in the ambulance. "Tell us what happened. We can't do our jobs if we don't know all the facts…"
"Have they spoken yet?" asks another.
"Nope. I can guess though… Jesus…" Both paramedics try not to dissolve into laughter… and only partly succeed. "I swear this is going on the wall of shame in the office…"
*
A skeptical brow is arched down towards the dogs and Hilde just shakes her head slowly, "It's not nice, you know, to laugh. This four legs has to *look* at his owners on a regular basis." Hilde isn't certain the dogs can actually understand her, but her tone of voice certainly conveyed much of what she was saying anyway! Still, she's letting the other medics deal with it. They've gotten accustomed to her being completely flakey. It's only gotten worse.
Then the hug is finished and the wolf prince is asking her about eating enough. She gives a little huff and a casual wave of her hand, "It is fine… this body is… fragile. Annoyingly so. I have no care to coddle it and sleeping is nigh unto impossible. I am still alive. This is… fine." With the Valkyrie back awake in her head and joined, it seems HIlde has become even more careless with her frame. It's like she resents how fragile this mortal body is.
*
The Valkyrie has a point, which Arthur the dog understands just going by her tone. He still glances at the prince for some sort of reassurance, but Hrimhari merely nods. Arthur hangs his head a bit, and remains contrite for about twenty-three seconds.
As the topic turns to food and eating enough, his head comes up again and he informs the prince of his hunger. "Go," says Hrimhari with a smile. "Eat thy fill, good Arthur. Thine humans shall return soon; methinks they shall require comfort in some form. Be there to provide it."
Arthur bows his head formally, and ducks inside the house. The prince looks back at Hilde. "What happens to Brunnhilde when this frail form expires?" he asks.
*
A whole 23 seconds. Goodness, Hilde must have entirely schooled that dog! The pale woman gives the canine a warmer smile, watching him go. She's always fond of those creatures which keep Hrimhari's company so well. But then she's gazing back up to her old friend. She strolls across the yard, finding a half broken patio chair that she can casually fold down into. Getting off of tired feet sounds wise.
"…I… am not certain? I suspect this soul shall return to my proper frame and… we may have to beg freedom from the Enchantress. Or… perhaps I have become mortal now. Perhaps my soul shall join their honored dead. There is no doubt living here, in this body… being this woman… It has altered me in ways I cannot fully express. I would exchange it for nothing, though."
*
Hrimhari lifts and arm to lay it gently upon Hilde's shoulder, assuming she does not duck away, and says, "This one cares much for Brunnhilde's wellbeing. It would pain him greatly to see her waste away — but, thy soul is no longer torn asunder; 'tis plain to see."
He smiles.
"Soul-Warden or healer, thou art as family to Hrimhari. 'Tis a good thing, to see Brunnhilde again — the Wyld Paths are opening once more, although they did not fully close. There were other matters in Asgard to keep Hrimhari away. 'Tis good to be back."
*