milliways_bar | (no subject)

"My clan is Nosferatu. According to the same legends, Caine cursed the blood of this particular grandchilde. The reasons vary, but the result is that all of his line would bear the same curse of deformity.

"Whatever the true reason, whenever a Nosferatu sires another, the new Kindred becomes as monstrous as the rest of the clan. There are compensations, meager though they are. The Nosferatu have great affinity with animals and powers of invisibility in addition to other Kindred powers.

"We exist primarily as spies and information dealers. We are neutral in conflicts, dealing openly and freely with any and all parties. The other clans tolerate us among them for that purpose, if nothing else."

He takes a sip from his glass.

"I apologize for rambling. I'm certain that's more than you wished to know. As to your question of blood, you are correct. We all began as Men, but were drained of our mortal blood by another Kindred, who then fed us a measure of their own blood, which transformed us into Kindred ourselves -- or 'vampires', to use the common parlance."

"I don't mind. The dead are interesting to me, all the kinds of them. I suppose that you could say it is a professional interest? That isn't quite right, though. More that in a way I am so tied to it that the more I learn about other creatures of death and the dead the more I may infer of myself."

This, for Hel, is becoming a record-length speech. It definitely matches the amount she's said in any other conversation since coming back,

"Learning about the bodies given by the Landlord of this place allowed me to eventually find a way to allow certain people to earn a way to a second life. I do not, yet, know what I may learn from you, but I am interested in listening."

She smiles faintly,

"It is not, after all, as though I will die of age."

"I do not know what I could possibly teach you, Lady Hel. I can tell you all that I know of the Kindred and their powers, but I don't know how it would aid you in any way."

He thinks for another moment, then shrugs helplessly. "I have some knowledge of alchemy, powerful enough to transform even my less than flattering visage into something more human, for a time. Beyond such matters as these, I fear I am woefully inarticulate."

"I know more about...Kindred now, than I did. There may be things I can learn from the passing of blood. The gods in my universe are all fond of blood."

Including her. Blood is, if not life, worth,

"Knowledge is power, and power is rooted in knowledge. Without knowledge of the Runes, drawing in the air does no good. With knowledge, a gesture can be a ball of fire."

Svava and Archie can also cast warming spells. Hel is better at killing things.

"Tell me whatever you wish, and perhaps I will learn something that can help me. If not, it is still not time wasted; for I will know more about you."

So he talks.

He tells her about the Camarilla and the Sabbat. He tells her about the structure of Prince and Primogen, of Elysium and the Covenants and the Masquerade. He speaks of the original thirteen clans, and of the three usurpers: Troile, Tremere, and Giovanni.

Daedalus explains to Hel things he knows, things he's learned, and things he suspects. It's oddly comforting to be in her presence and to be able to say things about his nature that he's always had to keep silent.

By the time he next thinks about it, an hour has passed.

"Is there anything specific you would like to know, Lady Hel? Clearly all this talking has bored you half to death," he says with a touch of a smile. It's teasing, yes, but more self-deprecating than anything.

She listens, asking her questions when the natural pause and flow of the conversation allows. Never stepping on his lines, always waiting. Its surprising how many questions get answered if you just wait.

"It took me 7,008,000 hours to learn the basics of how to make a sword."

She informs him quietly,

"Again that amount to become good at it, and once again before I managed the level that I desired to be at. An hour of information does not bore me. Thank you for the knowledge, Daedalus. I can not think of any other specifics right now, but I shall consider. Is there anything that you wish to know of me?"

Daedalus does the math in his head. Twenty-four hundred years. The mind boggles. He's even more impressed and flattered that she remembered his name.

"I would like to know more about your realm, actually," he finally says. "And more about you as well. Whatever you feel comfortable telling me."

She nods, organizes her thoughts, and begins;

"I am my father's youngest child. Slepnir is the eldest, Odin's eight legged horse. Technically my father is Selpnir's mother. Then there are his two sons by his actual wife, Vali and Narvi. They are considered to be all of Asgard, not 'tainted' by Loki's blood. With my mother he has three children, Jormundgand who is the World Serpent, Fenrir who is the Fenris Wolf, and me. I am his only daughter."

She lifts a finger, and a rat brings more blood for Daedalus and a mug of hot chocolate (made as the Aztecs did it, with peppers and bitter herbs), before she continues,

"My realm is Niflheim, the realm of the dead. Those who are not chosen by the Valkyrie come to me, and over the course of approximately a year the dead counted as unworthy by the gods of Asgard slowly lose their minds and drift into a grey nothing which can not be dispelled. Niflheim is dank, and grey, an eternal landscape of mist and gloom. Niflheim is at the bottom of the world tree, which is Yggdrasil, and as such has no sun nor moon, the roots of the tree cover it over.

In the well of Hvergelmer, in Niflheim, lurks the dragon Nidhot, who eats away at the roots of Yggdrasil constantly. In the end, at Ragnarok, it will eat all the way through and the tree will fall, leaving only one world of the nine.

The place I dwell is known as Hel-heim, or home of Hel, or Elvidner, the Place of Storm. My servants are Delay and Slowness, Hunger waits my table, and Burning Anguish are what was given to me as decoration."

Supplemented heavily by books on everything that she could get her hands on, yes.

"Mine is to pass judgment and punish those who should be punished, while making the year easy for those who have done no wrong. My power is over the dead, for I am h alf of the dead and all of the gods, even if they cast me out for the sake of my face.

And my face is the greatest reason that they cast me down."

"The greatest, but not the only?" he asks automatically. Then, he holds up a hand. "Forgive me. That was indecorous. How do you ease the torments of that year for those who have done no wrong?"

"The fact of dying grants me power, Daedalus. Whatever dies, it passes some amount of its power to me. And what, in the end, does not die?"

The question is not rehtorical, she would be interested to know,

"The prophacies say that I will be upon the side of those who fight the gods of Asgard, and this is true. I hate them, now, for what they did to me and to my full-brothers, but I understand that what they did was in part due to fear."

And then she shrugs, slightly,

"I have created gardens which are strange, but not unbeautiful. There are places where the beds are soft, the food is the best that I can provide. I shared my chocolate, when last I was there. It is not native to my universe. To those who ask, I grant what I may."

"Yours is a kind spirit to offer such comforts," he says honestly. "The death gods of other cultures and worlds are rarely so generous to the unworthy dead."

He takes another drink while he considers her question.

"What does not die, you asked? In my experience, only one thing. Hope."

"It depends on what you consider unworthy. To them, anything that does not die in blood and agony with sword in hand is unworthy."

There are many, many reasons that she hates them.

"I can not argue that. Thus I say to you; hope is the only thing which does not feed me."

He chuckles at that last, with no mirth in it whatsoever. "Ironic, is it not, that there are days when hope is the only nourishment I find?"

"You are different from me."

She points out quietly, and then gestures to the bar,

"But when you come here, there is food for you."

He looks speculatively at the glass of blood before him. "In a manner of speaking, yes. It is sustenance of the most meager sort. It holds back the Hunger, but does nothing for the palate."

"What does it need to taste well?"

She asks after a moment of thought, tilting her head while waiting for his answer.

Daedalus considers the most delicate way of answering the question.

"Emotion," he finally settles on. "Fresh blood is rich with the emotion of the... donor. Over time, that fades."

She considers that for several moments,

"That makes sense. The blood that is spilled for us is also rich with csuch things, even if we do not consume it as directly as you do. If you asked, I am certain you could find people willing to donate directly to you."

"I... had not thought of such a thing. I have not been able to bring myself to speak to many people here."

"You should."

She says it supportively, and then laughs softly,

"Although as someone who speaks regularly with perhaps four, perhaps five people I may not be the best of people to speak. The Men here are, in general, very easy to talk to. For Men."

Species, not sex.

"I daresay you are the only person to whom I have spoken more than once," he admits.

"Oh, dear."

She says with a blink,

"You have? You should try to meet more people. Ones who aren't, well. Me. I'm..."

Still suffering from rather bad self-esteem. Blame her father.

"And I would be happy to feed you more often, but I do not know that my blood would be good to take on a regular basis."

"Your blood would be likely to become addictive, I fear, if taken too often. It is quite intoxicating. And as for the quality of your company, I can honestly tell you that there is no one I would rather spend time with."

"But you have said, yourself, that you haven't met many people."

She says with a faint smile,

"So there isn't a terribly good pool of knowledge for you to base that off of."

~~Damn you and your relentless logic!~~

Daedelus... has no answer for that.

"Clearly, the solution is that I must meet more people and then report back to you."