milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Current Music: Stabbing Westward Cover- Bizarre Love Triangle

(no subject)

From the back door storms the Valkyrie. Its been wet and cold and rainy and overall miserable outside- all the better for trying to work off a temper. And given Ace's good advice, she's totally forgotten she's wearing the space agey red and black armor.

What? It fits well and she can move around easily. You're not going to make her self-conscious of it again, are you?

Mwaha.

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"We haven't slept..." Svava blushes. "I'm not allowed.... Its a Valkyrie thing." Hopefully that explains it all.

The confusion hasn't lessened.

"You haven't . . . then what did you mean?"

".... I don't know?" A wholly puzzled look at Anthy.

Svava is so strange! Anthy does not understand.

". . . Are you engaged?" she asks.

"No." At least that answer is easy enough. Svava sighs, frowning at her hot chocolate. ~~The hot chocolate wibbles.~~

"Valkyries are not supposed to fall in love and.... those sorts of things."

Anthy looks at her with a quick flash of interest.

"You aren't?" Her tone invites further explanation.

Svava sighs, and takes a seat, motioning for Anthy to join her. "No. We're not. That's just how... it worked out, I guess. Lose our immortality."

Anthy sits obediently, tea on the table and hands folded in her lap. A beat. Her eyes widen fractionally, but her voice is serene as ever.

"Do you want to stay immortal, then?"

Svava bites her lip, and shrugs. "... I don't know anything otherwise, Anthy. Living at Asgard is all I recall."

"You don't have to know anything otherwise to know when something's bad," Anthy says, half to herself. "Do you?"

"... I don't know." Quietly. Then another sigh.

"And add on all to that... I find I get to go back for Ragnarok. Which means... I'll die anyways."

She looks at her hot chocolate.

"... Want a drink of something stong enough to even get me drunk, Anthy?"

A beat. "Ragnarok? That's . . ."

She breaks off whatever she was going to say, and looks curiously at Svava. "I suppose -- what is it?"

"End of the world. ~~Rocks fall~~ Everyone dies." Svava mutters, and waves for a wait rat.

"And I don't know. Whatever the bar can conjour that can get me drunk. She has a few things..." The rat squeaks at the order, and runs off.

Softly, and more intently than usual: "End of the World?"

She looks away, at the rat, and watches it scurry away. "If it isn't scumble, then. I don't think I've been drunk here before. Odd, isn't it? Since it's a bar."

"End of all the worlds. Death, distruction, and ice and flames." Svava mutters.

"Ragnarok. ... The letter I got from the Landlord says my being Bound will end for that."

Anthy smiles pleasantly and takes another sip of tea.

"What will you do then?"

Svava just looks at Anthy for a long moment.

"Die."

The waitrat comes bearing a couple glasses of something. Its not scumble, but its pale and thick like sugar syrup and with a very faint red tinge to it. And its probably illegal in a few worlds. Svava hands Anthy one of the glasses.

Anthy looks at the glass, and then at Svava, blankly.

"Then . . . why are you worried about losing immortality?"

Svava.... just blinks at Anthy, staring at her for a long time again.

"I guess... I'd be that much harder to kill, at the battle." Though... Anthy sort of has a good point. She takes a swallow of the drink, and coughs a few times.

"Would you? Still . . ."

"Well, it's your choice." At Svava's coughing, she looks at the drink again, and takes a dainty sip. No reaction. After a moment: "It's very sweet."

"I know its my choice." Quietly. "And... I'm going to be needed there, so I'm going to go."

She eyes the drink. "Sweet... but you could probably etch stone with it." So the Valkyrie takes another sip.

"Of course. You're right to," she says, absently.

She takes another sip of the miscellaneous drink of Valkyric doom, and smiles. Good thing Meg isn't around.

"Does Archie know?"

"...I haven't told him yet. I just finally... made a decision for it. I don't know how to tell him." A deep breath, eyeing her drink, and she takes another healthy swallow.

"Him, or Yrael, or Arithon, or anyone else. ... I did tell Meg, though. And Alain knows. He helped me figure out my decision."

Neutrally: "Are you going to?"

"I haven't met Alain, I don't think. Who is he . . . ?"

She hesitates. "What did Meg think?"

"I should." Carefully, with another sip of her drink.

"Alain is a gunslinger, he was here and helping when the monsters were trying to come through the front door. He's... good at advice."

A faint, wry smile. "Meg understood. 'Que sera sera', she said."