milliways_bar | (no subject)

Being half-blind means odd depth perception. Which is why she trips over the tulle, instead of walking around it. Oops.

*The tulle groans.

The tulle does not sound terribly happy.

The tulle eventually reveals itself to have two eyes, which open. And then blink. A lot.*

"Sorry! I didn't see you there." She waves a gloved hand at her face, then realizes which side it is and uses the hand to cover it instead. "I'm sorry."

Oh, don't worry about it, my own stupid fault for falling asleep in the middle of the floor -

*Meg blinks at the girl and clutches her head, which is shouting at her that she was, in fact, incredibly stupid last night, and tries to collect her thoughts.*

Er. You look a bit - *she gropes frantically for an appropriate word -* er. Peaked. Er.

Do you need a healer?

"No. Its dead." The voice is half-muffled because of the gloved hand over part of her mouth, "I's supposed to look like that." And she turns so that Meg only has to look at her other side.

Oh dear. That sounds uncomfortable.

Er. Are you dead, or just your face?

*She clutches her head, which is acting up again, and grins, a bit weakly.*

. . . that sounded strange. But you know what I mean.

"Only my left side. All the way down." She waves, vaguely, at herself. That would be why the glove, et all. "And its not that odd. I'm Hel."

I'm Meg. Giry. And I'm usually more coherent - *She grins, a little wryly.* Well. Not much more coherent. But to a certain degree, anyways.

*She sits up straight, finally, considering the girl thoughtfully.* I used to know someone who'd wear a half-mask for that sort of thing. Not terribly necessary here, though.

"I didn't exactly have time to pack. And at home...I didn't need to." She's never been around, well, non-family before.

Oh, I'm not saying you should, *Meg assures her hastily.* That was just. You know. Me. Babbling again. Head scrambled this morning and all. It's probably not healthy to go about with half your face covered all the time. Mentally, I mean. Does weird things to your psyche. Are you one of those people who accidentally walked in on your way to the bathroom or whichever? The bar does that sometimes, it's awfully inconvenient -

"No." Softly, "Odin kidnapped me and my brothers. Jormungand he threw into the ocean. I don't know where Fenrir is. He threw me to Niflheim, but I ended up here instead." It may be noted that her right hand is bruised. Her left probably is too, but its gloved. There is a matching battered mark on the door, where she tried to get out.

Oh. Dear.

*Meg winces, and it's only partly caused by the pain in her head.*

Well. Here is probably a better place than Niflheim, wherever that is, but that still sounds like a pretty rotten deal -

er, if it's the same Fenrir I've heard of, though, he might be trapped in cat-form at the moment.

"Niflheim is the bottom of the nine worlds. Where the doomed souls go, the ones who don't make it to Valhalla." Yes. It is pretty rotten. Falling nine worlds isn't very nice either. "Fenrir...a cat? Oh dear. He must be....unhappy."