from the land of the ice and snow ❆

[wolfofmidgard]

Who: Meja, & open
What: A Valkyrie wakes up in the Cape. A tiny storm brews and then, suddenly, vanishes.
Where: The woods, park, and town.
When: Day 103

All at once, the lack of a presence is both painfully overwhelming and difficult to comprehend. It's as though something more important than gravity, yet more difficult to see than the wind, is gone. The disconnect is sudden, and she can't seem to remember falling asleep. Yet here she is, in woods she doesn't recognize with something around her wrist that... is entirely unfamiliar. She doesn't own any electronics; they don't like traveling between Realms. What's more, this one talks. "We hope you enjoy your stay." Meja blinks, fighting for consciousness. She doesn't sleep, why is this difficult? And then, as she staggers to her feet, it comes to her.

She can't feel Yggdrasil anymore.

The source of her second lease on life is missing. How is that even possible? Meja turns to the tree she's leaning on and presses her ear against the trunk. Yes, she can feel this tree. It's healthy (though grumpy — something about a burning incident), but it's not connected to Yggdrasil. Somehow, even waking up in a strange forest, with a technological wristband, is less unnerving than suddenly being away from the entity that holds the Nine Realms together. Is this some sort of pocket realm? Perhaps it's a trick by the Dökkálfar, and she isn't in her right mind to sense Yggdrasil at all.

A rumble interrupts her thoughts, and suddenly she realizes that her confusion and tension have whipped up a tiny storm of sorts, darkening the sky around this part of the woods. Though the droplets on her face make her feel less alienated, she holds up her hand. Small glints of light, making soft noises like distant cries, shine from her gloved hand as she disperses the storm. It clears in a matter of minutes, restoring sunlight to the forest once more.

Muninn is missing as well, she notices. Surely her raven friend would be the most disgruntled at being separated from the World Tree. He would be unable to seek out his brother for their immature little bouts of insults, which she'd come to understand as their way of touching bases.

"Muninn?" she calls, loudly, but only silence greets her. She's still feeling rather groggy, unintentionally strengthening her Norwegian accent. "This isn't funny, dumming... And it's not my new home."

Still without an answer, Meja sighs. She has all of her belongings, at least. Sweeping the hood from her head, she keeps her white cloak unglamoured — for now — and proceeds through the woods. She keeps her weapons sheathed, but also keeps her senses on alert for anything else in the woods. At first, all it gets her is the scuffle of running hares. But as she walks, she slowly makes out a small number of buildings through a large expanse of what seems to be a park. A town?

She takes a deep breath, still comfortably inside of the woods, and runs a gloved hand through her short platinum-blond hair. Time to see where I am. She's more nervous about it than she'd like, but the buildings she can see are of a style that she... hasn't laid eyes on in a long, long time.

On the other hand, she'll learn nothing in the woods. So, slowly, she proceeds forward.

Comments

[purplishgreen]

"The woods aren't safe."

It's a gentle warning, delivered from Shiala who's found the best point of high vantage she can locate: up a tree, perched on a thick branch. Now, though, she leaps down, slowing her fall automatically with a small biotic exertion. Blue energy flickers around her, then fades as she touches gracefully into the ground.

"Unless you're prepared to defend yourself."

[wolfofmidgard]

Meja glances up as she hears Shiala. Whatever she's prepared to see — perhaps a Ljósálfar, in these surroundings — it's certainly not... this. While she doesn't stare, it's hard to mask being so thoroughly startled by someone. She's always been a terrible liar, enough that it's usually the barb that Ingibjörg throws at her the most.

And it really doesn't help that she still feels off-balance, and slightly light-headed, from the absence of Yggdrasil.

"I am," she responds, with a half-smile. What is this woman? She's not large enough to be a troll, and she's certainly no Dökkálfar. Meja glances around at the trees, healthy but so alone here. "What is the threat, here?"

If she's going to be stuck in this... Realm... for a while, she might as well start gathering information.

[purplishgreen]

"Wild animals, large predators. The occasional hostile mech."

Oh, that startled look is beginning to be unfortunately familiar. Still, Shiala attempts to stay polite. They don't know better, these humans.

"If you're prepared to fight, all the better, but I'd still exercise caution."

[wolfofmidgard]

With a more strong smile, the startled look finally clears itself from her face and Meja gives Shiala a grateful nod. It doesn't really matter to her, in the end, what anyone is. But she now knows to be a little more on her toes, in this strange Realm that she's found herself in.

"Understood. Thank you." Mech. That term sounds vaguely familiar, but it's distant. An old memory. "I... just arrived here, which I suppose is obvious."

Arrived? Is that the right word? Well, it works for now.

"Do you know where we are?"

[purplishgreen]

"It's called Cape Kore. Beyond that, it's difficult to say." Shiala shrugs. It isn't much of an answer, and she knows it, but she has nothing better to offer. "I don't know if that's the name of the planet or just this settlement."

Or, perhaps, the dimension, since she's learning that's sometimes applicable too. Do dimensions have names?

"My name is Shiala. I am a... fellow captive, I suppose."

[wolfofmidgard]

Meja glances at the device around her wrist again. Dökkálfar don't use technology, and so that puts them out of the picture. Which is both good, and... worrying. That means this situation is from an unknown source. It's too sophisticated for Jotunn (when was the last time a giant had been subtle). An Aesir, perhaps? A Vanir? ...Loki, finally rearing his ugly head after so long?

That's not a good thought, but Meja extends a hand to Shiala. She has no reason to doubt her word, at the moment.

"Meja. It's nice to meet you, Shiala." In spite of the circumstances. "How long have you been a... captive?"

[purplishgreen]

"A... a few weeks. No more."

She takes Meja's hand, shakes it warmly, but with the manner of someone who's not entirely used to the gesture. "There are others who have been here longer. I'm not sure who's been here longest."

She gives a little sigh. "There's a collection of us. Mostly human, some not."

[triplelindy]

After taking an hour or two on his own to take a better look around, Sam's decided to take a break in the park.

It's more of a forced break, really, but since he's alone it's easier to relax and not push himself so hard. He doesn't feel like his lungs are trying to escape his body, so that's a plus. He's feeling pretty weak overall, though, so taking a minute is a good idea.

He's sitting at one of the picnic tables, examining the communicator the Cape has oh so helpfully provided. If there's a way to go back and search through posts from before...well, he'll try to find a way regardless.

The small storm is hard to miss, though, and he keeps glancing up in that direction, puzzled when it suddenly disappears. This is why he's able to catch sight of her, so distracted he is from his original task.

She's not too far away, so she should be able to hear him call out - "Some storm, huh?"

It's a greeting of sorts.

[wolfofmidgard]

Sam's attire is just as confusing as the buildings, for Meja. Like their architecture, the fashion involved calls to a different time — a distant time. She pulls her white cloak around her a little more, a mostly-unconscious gesture of nerves, before proceeding out into the park and toward Sam. Meja's movement are measured, careful; she walks as someone thoroughly aware of her own body and her surroundings, someone who's received a great deal of combat training.

If her suspicions are correct, she hopes the two short swords strapped to her back won't make Sam nervous. After all, she has no intention of using them. Not unless she really has to.

"Ja..." Meja glances, sheepishly, back at the treeline. "Sorry about that. I hope I didn't disrupt anything too important."

Reaching out to Yggdrasil had had the unintentional side effect of creating the little storm pattern, she guesses.

[triplelindy]

It's hard not to see how she carries herself, but Sam just marks it down on his mental list. It's good to know who can hold their own in combat, and even knowing a thing or two can help when a situation is dire.

If she approached aggressively, he'd probably be on edge, but just because someone has weapons doesn't make them an enemy right off. He tries not to hold to the 'shoot first ask questions later' philosophy, though sometimes it does have to be followed. Not now, though. Not when she seems to be just as lost as he still feels.

"Hold on, that was you?" He looks vaguely impressed. That sounds like something right up there with angel mojo. "Didn't disrupt anything I know of. Just sudden, that's all."

[wolfofmidgard]

Still looking sheepish, and used to being upfront about it, Meja nods. "I was a little... confused."

She figures that's not a strange thing, at all, here. But it seems that no harm had been done, which is good. Looking at Sam, she notices that he, too, has one of the devices around the wrist. It seems to be a theme, around here. The Valkyrie glances toward town, wondering what the real purpose of them is — trackers, perhaps? It's been such a very long time since she's had to think, or worry, about technology.

"I sort of... just woke up here."

Thankfully, her situation has been as explained as it can be. Now she just has the slightly awkward predicament of... living here, potentially for a while, until an escape can be made.

[triplelindy]

Sam gives her a sympathetic look. By now, he's realized that everyone who is pulled here can come from any kind of universe.

It's not a fact that's fully settled with him yet, but he can tell she doesn't exactly hail from his home town. "I think that's the typical arrival for everyone. Wake up, confusion fogging the brain. It takes a few days for it to really sink in."

Pushing himself up, he stands, resting a hand on the table so he can put some weight on it. It's easier to be steady. He holds his other hand out for a handshake, though belatedly he wonders if that's a common greeting where she's from. No matter, he gives her a tired smile regardless.

"My name is Sam Winchester. I just got here myself a few days ago."

[wolfofmidgard]

It's very common. Most of the Valkyrie either greeted with a salute, or a handshake; it depends on ranking, and how strict both parties are. Meja was plucked from a life of being a lone wolf, and she's not terribly fond of being in a position of authority. Which is precisely why, she thinks, the universe chose to place her third in command of the Valkyrie. The Norn have a twisted sense of humor. She doesn't mind authority, and she can carry it well now — but it's not something she jumps on, exactly.

Luckily for Sam, Meja shakes his hand firmly but not with the crunching strength that Ingibjörg, her 'superior', does. And she holds off even more when she makes note of his... apparent condition, taking note of his visible symptoms. Sam doesn't look all that healthy.

"It's nice to meet you, Sam. My name is Meja," she introduces, giving him a friendly smile. Though she can't quite keep the concern out of it. It's in her nature to look after others; she's been doing it for seven hundred years, and a little more, now. "Forgive the intrusion, but are you well?"

[tryingitall]

Balthazar has been making foraging trips every other day since Raphael taught him to spot plants. He feels a bit silly about it, wandering from field to forest with a basket and a couple jars, filling them with greens or dandelion blooms or snips of herbs. There are mushrooms, too, but he doesn't want to pick those without Raphael's reassurance that they're not going to kill anyone. Or, you know, give them psychadelic visions.

In any case, he's far enough from the town to see the storm kick up, and that's something he hasn't seen happen around here before. It's worth checking out, and Meja may not have gone far before an angel lands a few feet away from her, with a flap of wings and a clink of jars colliding gently in the basket under his arm. "Damn it, did I break...no? Good. Hello."

He glances up belatedly at the newcomer, expression shifting from irritation to interest. She's pretty. "Got caught in the rain, did we? Are you new?"

[wolfofmidgard]

Meja jumps. It's Balthazar's height that keeps her from drawing a weapon on pure reflex. She's used to Dökkálfar using their magic to enter and leave quickly, but the Dark Elves are shorter than this stranger. They also arrive with numbers, when they're interested in ruining Meja's day, though it never does them any good. Still, they do try.

Relaxing, she unconsciously flicks the wrist that the comm's been attached to. She'll need to get used to the weight.

"Um... ja, I suppose I am." Her smile is more puzzled and strained than anything else, but it's not exactly a grimace, either. "I'm afraid that I got a little... out of control. Is the groggy part normal?"

At least she hadn't created a blizzard. Judging from the weather that's since slipped in, it seems to be spring. It certainly seems pleasant, at least. She'd hate to have cold-shocked any of the plants on accident.

[tryingitall]

For what it's worth, he doesn't look armed, and his body language is fairly passive, even if he is verging on intrusion into her personal space bubble. It's an angel thing.

"Oh. You made the rain? That's...different." He can tell at a glance that she's not your average human, but what exactly she is, and the limits of her talents, are harder to gauge, without a nice chat. But creating a storm could be a very helpful ability in a place where both weather and plumbing are unpredictable. "The groggy part usually happens if our captors have had a look at you before dropping you among us. You're lucky, though. We've had people come in bleeding profusely. Groggy is a step up."

He sets his basket down and offers a handshake. "I seem to have volunteered for the welcoming committee today. Hello, I'm Balthazar."

[wolfofmidgard]

Having a look at me? Dökkálfar sometimes capture victims and sacrifice them, but they never poke around... Meja pushes aside the uneasy feeling that causes, shaking Balthazar's hand with a slightly brighter smile. "Meja. I appreciate the welcome."

Being startled by a guy with jars is certainly better than being ambushed. Speaking of, she glances down at the basket.

"I hope I'm not disrupting you. Have you been here long?"

[tryingitall]

He's been warned already that the phraseology of his explanations regarding the cape is more unnerving than comforting, but he views himself as a teller of painful truths. Possibly he's trying to take after Gabriel a bit without being quite as much of a troll. In any case, he at least has yet to tell the new arrivals false information.

"No trouble at all. It's best for us to learn to rely on one another as quickly as we can." He follows her gaze and smiles sheepishly. "I was collecting food. Dandelion, purslane, chicory. The food supply is a bit iffy lately."

[wolfofmidgard]

"No one needs to worry that I'll be adding any strain, at least."

Being immortal is, most of the time, a blessing.

And the woods do seem quite healthy, the majority of trees feeling, to her... well, content could be a word. Long-term separation from Yggdrasil had meant slow death for Midgard, but the gods had managed to do it in the first place. Perhaps this was another place they'd separated, and hadn't thought to put back yet? But that doesn't seem quite right. The gods are occasionally forgetful, especially the Aesir, but seven hundred years is a long time.

Meja inhales deeply. She still feels borderline woozy, but the feeling's lessening.

"I've certainly been trapped in worse-looking places," she chuckles, thinking briefly of Niflheimr. Though some parts of Niflheimr were at least beautiful in a dangerous, very icy way.

[packpapa]

Heightened senses picking up the strange and abrupt alteration in the atmosphere, Derek looks up mere seconds before the change in weather becomes obvious, as fleeting as it is, and he hears the storm coming from the direction of the woods.

He doesn't stop to think before he's running out in that direction, not too far away as luck would have, and he stops when he finds a spot recently dampened by rain. It's the faint scent of wolves that really intrigues him, though, it's not strong enough to belong to one, but it's possible that whoever was here has been in contact with some. On top of that, there's the strange scents of nature mingling in with whoever they're emitting from.

It doesn't take long to follow it, tracking it to its source, and as she comes into sight, an unfamiliar woman, he approaches from behind with caution.

"What are you?"

[wolfofmidgard]

The question takes her by surprise. Derek himself, not too much. She's used to Dökkálfar trying to sneak up on her, and so she automatically makes a note of footsteps approaching. But Meja's used to either people knowing that she's a Valkyrie, or assuming that she's human straight off. Someone asking — no, maybe demanding — for clarification takes her by surprise.

And it also reminds her of Jotunheimr, perhaps, in an unpleasant way.

She turns, making a note of his unfamiliar attire. Had she heard him wrong?

"I'm sorry?" Meja blinks, body language relaxed. "Did you just ask what I am?"

[packpapa]

His expression is twisted into a confused yet thoughtful frown as he takes her in, eyes scanning up and down while his other senses stay on alert. She smells human, but there's something not quite right, the additional scents that match the brief storm. Maybe he's wrong, it wouldn't be the first time, but he can't help thinking that the two are connected.

He fights the urge to roll his eyes and growl at the same time, never really one for beating around the bush, but to be on the safe side he controls himself, not wanting to give his own secret away if he steps too far over the line.

"I thought I saw something that I obviously didn't." He's still wary, taking a cautious step closer. "Who are you?"

[wolfofmidgard]

"My name is Meja. I'm... new, around here."

Meja regards him with curiosity, a wry smile on her face when she declares herself as new. Like she's been transferred to a new Realm or army. But then, she has. It's just not like any Valkyrie would expect. That, combined with the general feeling of light-headedness, means that she doubts she'll feel comfortable for a while, yet.

She idly moves the wrist with the new comm attachment, still distracted by the additional weight, and then embarrassment flits across her face.

"I didn't disturb you with the storm, did I?"

[packpapa]

He hums in acknowledgement, but it's not hard to put the pieces together and guess as much; he's definitely not seen her around until now, and he's never caught her scent in the small town.

"Derek."

It's automatic as he follows the movement of her wrist, but she doesn't appear to pose a threat, at least not to him, so he's not too worried. "No." It's not reassuring so much as blunt fact. "I came out here because it's unusual and I wanted to make sure it was nothing to be concerned about."

[wolfofmidgard]

At least the people here are vigilant; that's a point in their favor. "I don't mean anywhere here harm, I can assure you."

She's aware of saying this with two swords strapped to her back, and daggers in her belt. But that can't be helped. She didn't exactly dress for the occasion. (If she had, there would be more weapons. Or supplies.)

"It's nice to meet you, Derek." Meja pauses. "As to your earlier question, I'm a Valkyrie."