earplugs not provided

[fleygja]

It is a lovely day in the Plaza and you are a terrible Valkyrie.

...Or at least a loud one.

"A Glorious Day to you!" She says/shouts.  You would think that the elaborate golden helm that covers her head would muffle her voice but nope. Geirdriful has powerful lungs and she isn't afraid to use them.Those powerful lungs might be the reason she's here today actually. Something about some yelling at spirits in Valhalla and flinging an entire table; food, cutlery, AND feasters all out some windows... She was told to maybe go take a day off. As if it were her fault people were slacking off on their training during her long absence under Odin's curse.

She'd happened upon that young boy Atreus in a brief trip to Midgard. And upon hearing where he was going... Well this place seemed an interesting opportunity so she followed him here. She probably strikes an intimidating sight. Near seven feet tall with massive wings of metallic gold blades and deep crimson feathers. At the very least she's yet to knock anything or anyone over with them. A small miracle considering of she moves and flares them.

"I have heard there are people of many worlds here!" she is still shouting at you. She probably isn't quite aware that she's shouting. She's going on as if she's having a normal conversation. Just one where someone turned the volume up on the remote nearly to max, "Tell how do they fight in your world? What manners of weapons and magics do you use? I am very eager to hear your answer!"

Comments

[coldsong]

At first glance, he assumes she's one of the Fallen Angels, which is a sound guess given the wings. They tend not to yell, though. Even Beelzebub is capable of conversation with something close to an indoor voice.

The second possibility that occurs to him is both intriguing and terrifying. Did he jinx himself by speculating about other universes' Valkyrior? That would be the sort of thing that would happen to him.

Best face the music in that case. Or the yelling.

"Depends on the occasion," he answers her question at a normal volume, stepping closer cautiously, looking her over. "The last battle I was in had everything from projectile weapons to disruptors to sorcerer flinging spells to a giant-sized man stomping across the field."

And he hated it, but that's probably not the thing to say to this person.

[fleygja]

Speak of the Devil Valkyrie and she shall appear. Or something of the sort.

She listens, with rapt attention as he describes the scenes. Sorcerers! Projectiles! Giants! ...He's done a good job describing some headlines but she finds herself greatly dissatisfied with he level of detail here

"Fascinating! But vague. What kinda of projectiles?" he might have stepped closer which may be a mistake because she's looking closer now as well and none the quieter either, "Ohh... a Catapult perhaps?"

[coldsong]

If she keeps that up, he's going to have to cast a sound dampening spell to protect his ears. "...I don't recall a catapult, but there was quite a lot going on. I wouldn't swear to it that there wasn't one somewhere. Are you familiar with gunpowder? It's a Midgardian invention. Came about in..."

He pauses a moment, doing calculations in his head. "Well, in my universe, it was created well over a thousand years ago, but it didn't get used in certain parts of the world until the last 500 years or so."

"There's something about ranged weaponry that feels less elegant to me, honestly. I favor daggers or magic. But there's no denying the effectiveness."

Just because he's not as much of a fan of battle as Thor used to be doesn't mean he can't talk weapons and strategy cheerfully.

[fleygja]

Her sisters had attempted such spellcraft on her volume before. It... well it's not always as affective as one would hope. Especially when one's physical body is a mere construct and the loudness come not completely from lungs but also includes a literal shout of the soul. It would make for complex spell working indeed.

"I have never heard of this gunpowder but I am intrigued. I must consult Mimir on it. If it exists in my world he would know."

...She just won't inform the Queen of it. They're exes as she understands and normally she would respect such things... but her thirst for knowledge of destructive things is very strong.

"I do find a preference myself for projectiles. I am known as 'The Shooter'. There is a certain beauty in the graceful curve of a bow, and there is a moment of serenity before one looses an arrow. But I am fond of all manner of weaponry. Daggers are quick and clever. And magic?"

She laughs suddenly, heartily, recalling a delightful memory.

"There are many in those under my care who disparage magic as trickery and nothing more. So I stood a bunch of them in a row and sent wave after wave of magical projectile after them to dodge. Not a one of them had anything negative to say after," she chuckles again and then adds, "Of course they simply may have been too tired after to speak. Or stand. But they learned a valuable lesson that day."

[coldsong]

Mimir. Well that confirms his wild guess. And now he's nervous because Mimir is a mystical figure in his own world, and not one he's privileged to be acquainted with. (Thank the Norns that the myth about Odin carrying his head around isn't true in Loki's world, though. That would be really gross.)

"If it exists in your world, it would have originated in the Far East," he tells her thoughtfully. "I admit, there is a great deal of satisfaction in skilled marksmanship, whether you shoot an arrow or a stone or shaped metal."

He winces slightly at the laughter regarding magic, and not because of the volume. The story she tells causes a shift in his demeanor right away, though. He looks surprised, then oddly grateful, and he smiles. "The realm I grew up in was similarly ill-disposed toward most kinds of magic. I was often regarded as...lesser, for the way I used and use it. I'm honestly rather touched to hear you say that."

He gives her a graceful bow. "My name is Loki. I don't know if it is familiar to you. You're a Valkyrie, aren't you?"

[chiaro_oscuro]

Ben smirks a little bit. He's spoken with Atreus enough to have an idea of who and what he's talking to. He bows in respect. The Valkyries are due that respect - respect that Odin apparently failed to show them in that world. And Ben has a great deal of respect for warrior women in general.

This should be interesting. He doesn't even care that his ears are ringing - he's thinking about her question. Oh, he thinks he knows how to communicate with her. Sparring is a language that transcends cultural boundaries.

"I can show you some of mine, if you like." His hand darts to his side, where his lightsaber is hidden. He's pretty sure that Valkyries have tricks of their own, but he's wanted to fight someone from Atreus's world for a while now. "I don't know if you'd call it magic, but let's exchange notes, so to speak. But I should introduce myself first. My name is Ben."

[fleygja]

Odin has failed in a great many things in her world. But certainly the fallout he might face from the corruption he spread upon Geirdriful and her sisters he might come to regret sooner then later.

"Ben. I am Geirdriful," she considers him for a moment and rolls her shoulders, wings unfurling to their full size with the screech of metal feathers on metal feathers.

"You offer intrigues me. There aren't many who would look upon a Valkyrie and immediately want her for an opponent."

[chiaro_oscuro]

Honestly, challenging someone he deems a challenging opponent to a friendly fight is Ben's equivalent of a warm handshake. It's how he's greeted most of the other Force-users here.

Ben nods firmly. "I've been told a little about your people. That you're warriors - I've never actually met a Valkyrie before." He's laid a hand on the Fenris-Wolf without losing it and spoken with the Midgard Serpent, both of them creatures of folkloric significance and incredible power, but a Valkyrie is new.

The Force may be a form of magic, something he's deeply curious about. "Would you like to see my magic or my weapon first? I'll show you both."

[fleygja]

"I'm not surprised," she nods in acquiesce, "Normally a mortal would not meet one of my sisters until they've died. A special treat for you today then."

She is, of course, uniformed of anything otherwise.

"I must pick either or?" her wings flap and for a moment she rises a foot or so into the air before dropping to the ground once more as she considers. Unknown magic or new weapon? Such a difficult choice, "Why not both at once?"

[chiaro_oscuro]

Ben figures that, technically, he meets her qualifications. He's already dead - it was the magic of this place that revived him, after all. "I suppose it's a treat for me."


His smile turns into a grin.

"You know, I like the way you think, Geirdriful. Both, then? I think I can do that for you." He calls his lightsaber to his hand, but doesn't ignite it just yet. The closest he's come to this is sparring with Beelzebub - and fighting an angel isn't an even match.

[sonof_mogh]

Worf was practicing out with his Bat'leth close by the Plaza when he heard the loud noise. That voice. Interrupting his warrior movements, the Klingon frowned and went to see why someone was shouting. It irked Worf who just wanted the company of himself and his bladed weapon for a few hours, practicing ancient Klingon Bat'leth movements. Holding his sword close the Klingon was obviously facing a warrior of some sort judging by her helm and her strong voice.

"You speak of battle? Who are you? I am Worf, son of Mogh."

He did not need to shout or raise his voice since Worf's voice was deep and booming at the best of times. If she thought to understand battle and the way in which he fought on his world then he would enlighten her. But that shouting. It was not needed.

"I am Klingon. We do not use magic as that is for cowards seeking to hide behind shadow and flimsy trickery. My race use swords such as these to smite down their foes."

Lifting up his heavy bladed weapon, Worf showed the strange warrior his weapon in it's glory. Newly polished this morning before he left his apartment. A warrior knows how to make sure his weapon was in good working order.

[fleygja]

"Worf son of Mogh, well met. I am Arms Master Geirdriful of Valhalla," she inclines her head just slightly, wings twitching just so behind her, the bladed feathers clinking together.

"A very interesting blade, the design is rather unique. I imagine it would be easy to tear an opponents weapon from their very hands with it! How surprising for them," She chuckles, ideas in her head already forming to keep some of her trainees on their toes.

"You would be wise though, son of Mogh, not to discredit magic in it's entirety. There are many in my realm who hold similar sentiments. But a ball of magical flame to the chest can kill just as easily as a sword or arrow," she has escorted more then one soul off the battlefield who underestimated an opponent with glowing hands.

"But we are not speaking of that now. You must demonstrate your beautiful blade!"

[sonof_mogh]

"Arms Master Geirdriful of Valhalla."

Worf nodded in greeting without smile as he always did. Warriors did not smile when they greeted one another because that would make you out to be a fool. Klingons believed smiling should be rare and only used between those who were family or close friends. At the comment regarding his blade, Worf glanced towards his Bat'leth, held down close to his right side, gripped firmly by skilled hands.

"It is a Bat'leth. An ancient Klingon blade used by Kahless himself. He is our god."

Klingons were very spiritual beings at heart and worshipped Kahless as part of the teachings. Worf was a very stout believer of Kahless and all he taught. The warrior's words got him frowning. Magic was never taken down well by most Klingons as they preferred hand to hand combat with fists or blades, rather than energy weapons and magic.

"That is true. Yet, we Klingons revere the blade as a more honourable way to battle our enemies. There is nothing quite like seeing your enemy cower as you thrust a blade into his heart."

It was glorious.

"You seek a demonstration? I do not wish you attack you, Geirdriful. Perhaps, I could show you motions of how to wield the Bat'leth with prowess?"

[fleygja]

"If you managed to land a hit on me, it would cause me no true harm. I am a Valkyrie," she spreads arms and her wings flair, behind her, the metal feathers rattling, "We are people of spiritual origin, this form is a convenient construct to help me interact with the physical plane."

A body she'll abandon when done in this intriguing world. That will, of course, fade away after she leaves it. It wouldn't be all that great if she just left random terrifying looking corpses whenever she needed a physical form.

"But for now, I will observe these motions. I will be honored to see your blade's dance."

[tielle_mortevus]

The mention of combat catches her attention, not to mention the boisterous proclamation the valkyrie is spouting throughout the square. Completely unphased by the imposing warrior, Tielle simply leans against one of the bits of statuary adorning the square, rolling her black parasol between her fingers in thought as it shields her from the sun.

"Personally I prefer hand to hand combat, but the weaponry and tactics of my world are rather varied. Most humans use swords and other armaments, spears, crossbows, your standard fare. Others rely on magic and alchemy to gain a bit of an edge, or building constructs to fight for them..."

She smirks, idly buffing the rather long nails of her free hand with her thumb.

"...but nothing beats getting your hands dirty. The rush... mmmm there's nothing quite like it. It's not something I indulge in often, but it's quite entertaining so long as it's for sport. I'm not afraid to kill if it comes to it..."

She looks up at the valkyrie, giving her a slight smirk, revealing a pair of sharp fangs.

"What about you? What's your weapon of choice?"

[fleygja]

The Valkyrie listens with rapt attention as the girl speaks. It's hard to read expressions with her face beneath a heavy helm but from her posture alone she seems thoughtful. Those weapons were all fairly common throughout Midgard. She supposes some similarities are just bound to happen. A small disappointment though an understandable one.

"My weapon of choice? Well certainly the ones I prefer above all others are these," her great wings flare behind her and she slams them down. Not nearly as forcefully as she COULD but still enough to leave a few fine cracks in the pavement, "I enjoy a great many others, but a Valkyrie's greatest strength is always her wings."

[tielle_mortevus]

She gives a curious look, noticing the cracks in the pavement below.

"Interesting... and I'm sure the power of flight gives quite the strategic advantage as well."

Pulling out a small notebook, she jots down a few notes, making a rough sketch of the wing before slipping the notebook away.

"Perhaps one of these days I'll get a taste of their full potential. It would be quite the learning experience."

[fleygja]

"Pray that you won't," she replies, helm tilted slightly in amusement, "Those who stand against the Valkyrie do not stand for long."

There are none in the realms more formidable then her sisters and herself.

"But if you ever wish for training I am always willing to assist a warrior in growing stronger."

[sweetcandygirl]

The yelling from the large, winged woman definitely caught attention. Especially with the metallic gold blades shining in her wings.

Harley loves her already. And she reaches to her side, where she carries a little megaphone of her own. And holds it up, to yell back, with extra amplification.

"Depends on the person. I am fond of my baseball bat, personally!"

[fleygja]

There are vendors and pedestrians in the plaza undoubtedly giving them dirty looks and muttered complaints by now. Geirdriful, clearly, does not care.

"I must confess I'm unfamiliar with that weapon!" she replies, hands on hips, delighted to hear and unfamiliar term, "I am also unfamiliar with that device you have! It's amplifying your voice, yes? With something like that I could wake up an entire realm of over-sleepers!"

[sweetcandygirl]

"A Baseball Bat!" Harley repeats, and reaches down with her other hand to swing the weapon from the belt, where it hangs, into her hands. She swings with it, only hitting Nexus air right now.

"Thanks! I find it useful!"

[fleygja]

"I see. A simple weapon. But simple is often the most effective, and least prone to failure," She cocks her head and then taps the words emblazoned upon it, "And this, 'Good Night'. Playfully intimidating. I enjoy that."

[pirateangelbaby]

Being on the King's council is a full-time job at the best of times. These are, of course, decidedly not the best of times. The Valkyrie doesn't pity Asgard for what it's become, though. Or for what their king has fallen to. A spiteful part of her is somewhat glad that she's not the only one who's fallen from grace, so to speak. But Thor is more tolerable than his father - less bloodthirsty and willing to sacrifice others, at the very least - and the people that were saved don't really deserve to pay for Odin's sins, so that's worth putting in the effort to do a good job.

Right now, that means keeping an eye on this place for threats.

It's not her first time in the Nexus, not by a long shot. Normally she prefers not to be noticed. She's mastered the art of dressing to blend in, leaving her armor at the house she's claimed, ready to be summoned in an instant should she have need of it. She certainly doesn't go around shouting at the top of her lungs.

A heavily armored warrior is going to draw attention regardless, and with familiar styling to her armor, it's enough to draw this Valkyrie's attention. Much shorter than her boisterous counterpart, of course, but not intimidated in the slightest by the set of lungs the latter has on her. She plants her hands on her hips, looking up at the armored figure. "Depends on who you ask. Sword, spear, semiautomatic laser cannon, that sort of thing. Not a lot of folk who use magic in battle besides a few I could mention. And even then, they're picky on what 'counts'."

[fleygja]

Odin sinning is a multiversal truth it seems. Certainly in her world he has much to answer for. So much.

Her shouting too is far from the top of her lungs. This is normal conversational shouting. She's not even the loudest of her sisters! The loudest is their Healer. Who is tolerated more on account of being the one adapt at healing magic.

"I am quite familiar with sword and spear! But the last one, the 'Semiautomatic laser cannon'?" her volume level actually drops slightly as she says the last bit, the words foreign sounding enough that wants to make sure she gets the pronunciation correct. She's back up to normal in the next breath, "I'm unfamiliar with this one! But intrigued. You'll describe it for me?"

[pirateangelbaby]

The Valkyrie looks up at her, one eyebrow raised, lips pursed. She's not a fan of giving away vital intel, especially to an unknown agent. But there's probably no harm in this one. Describing a weapon doesn't give you the ability to create one.

"They're about so big," she says, taking her hands off her hips to gesture, outlining the length of the device, about the size of a Midgardian minigun. "It fires high-energy bolts at a rate of six hundred rounds a minute and can melt through most nonmagical armor if you put enough time into it. Good for taking out a whole crowd of enemies, not so good if you've got allies mixed in."