Helreginn

Indie Norse Goddess Hel Rp (Queen of the Underworld and personification of death.) Not a Marvel muse.

[helreginn]

OOC UPDATE. INTERNET IS STILL NOT A THING but I had access long enough to re-up my queue and re-follow peeps ((Did everyone make a new blog while I was away? LOL)). Again, if you don't mind waiting for replies, always feel free to send memes/starters etc.

It's fun when I am able and I'm hoping to have steady internet SOON.

For new people, here is what is SUPPOSED to be the pinned post, should my wifi ever return from war. 💀<3

[legends-and-savages]

A soft oh from Eve. It was not something that she fully understood. She was still finding her way around the world and understanding what a lot of things were. And she could figure out even if Hel hadn't shown it to her. But she could see it even if it wasn't lifted toward her for a second. "That makes sense." She said. "It looks good."

Another nod from Eve. Right now everything felt good. She didn't feel like she was going to go vomit up the food. So she considered that win in her books. "I can do that." She said. She wasn't extremely hungry, but it was a little bit of something that she could handle at the moment.

[helreginn]

Hel simply smiled over at Eve, every motion of her hands matched by the gentle back and forth of her chair. In the woods where they had found each other, the red haired woman had seemed calm but that calm was a prickling disquiet compared to the contentment radiating off her as she basked in fire's warmth and self-soothed herself in every rock and busied fidgeting fingers in craft.

After a few more stitches, distracted gaze drawn low towards her project, Hel offered offhandedly, "If tomorrow finds you wanting to stay, I could teach it to you.."

[hauntedxdreams]

"Yeah yeah im short." Felet laughed. "Musta gotten it from my mom." He teased right back before sighing. "I can get a job though, I am old enough. It'd just be a lot with school."

[helreginn]

She gasped loudly, mouth wide in amused and feigned insult. For good measure, she clutched at the space on her chest where a human heart would be, "I cannot believe you've said that. The wound your words carve will simply never heal."

Hel grinned, moving on quickly from play pretend to sincerity. She tilted her head to one side and laid a cool palm over his arm, "And would you bat an eye if one of your classmates had the same deal? Parents that support them through their education with no expectation of return?"

[brokenandlonelysouls]

Loki let out a soft chuckle. But he was too tired to say much more as he was dozing off. He knew that she had seen many deaths. He knew she would oneday know his. So of course she would know he wasnt going to die right this moment from boredom. But Loki was a rather dramatic in this sitution. But right now he truely was just too tired to keep his eyes open. He was soon deeply asleep. He wasnt even aware of his daughter perhaps leaving the room as well. He knew that he needed to take better care of himself. He just had been the best at all of that. When he woke again he looked around the room and just sighed. He was tired and weak still.  ❝ Hel are you there?❞ he asked as he lay there. He still was half asleep that he wasnt entirely aware if he was in the room.

Loki was really just hoping that he could be back on his feet soon as well. Because he was already getting fed up with staying in his bed.

----------------------------------------------------------

[helreginn]

This time it had been longer, maybe. Longer or she came faster. Less polished. Copper curls - usually untamable and mostly loose - gathered atop her head beneath a linen triangle. A few errant tendrils still breaking containment, coiled near her eyes and down her back. Her fingers and neck were bare of the jewelry that usually adorned her frame. Even her dress was traded for one similar in silhouette but noticeably plainer; lacking embroidery and length in the sleeves.

"I am here," she replied. She walked towards him from shadows in the corner. A trick of the eye, as if she'd been among them the whole time. Standing above him, Hel wiped her palms on her skirt before resting her weight on the mattress, "What do you need, father?"

[asgardianhammer]

[ ϟ ]—– It both moves and amuses, the sound of that particular laugh the sovereign expels, and it is simultaneously a reminder how little of it he had heard over the years.

Such was their fate, an unfortunate and unchangeable thing, that what little time they had spent in each other's orbit it rarely, if ever, was mirthful.

No matter how ferociously he wished it to be, the chasm dug between them had been carved out deeply by their kin, connection severed and dismantled before they themselves could entwine it into something solid.

Repair may be possible yet; their equal ground was disdain for rules and chains alike, and the god would gladly water that soil vigorously.

' Good to know. This means you are more likely to meet me half way when it comes to dismantling the status quo.'

A flicker of mischief passes through ceruleans, fleeting bright spark of it flaring almost unusually vivid at the thought.

' Do I need to bring more offerings before you will consider joining me for a celebration of sorts? Just so I know before I attempt it.'

[helreginn]

Deathling's own thoughts find sorrow absent. He is no Sunna but still his company chases such shadows away.

Hel settles on her couch, chin rested atop her wrist as she grins up at him through her lashes.

They speak of social convention crumpled and abandoned; she wastes no time in catching it beneath the tread of her unworn boots. Silence extends the offer open gait implies. Éljúðnir's door mat reads welcome to all but the space left empty on plush couch beside her feet is a comfort granted a great few.

No reply is offered in trade but smiling slow blink does not deny his presumption. Young people forged in the fires of reckoning know that a system must sometimes be taken back to bricks for it's foundation to ever be worth building upon. Half way feels more than fair.

Pale lips roll together inward. She pretends to ponder but sincerity overthrows greed. Soft laughter punctuates her thoughts and she shakes her head slow, "Much as I'm curious what all I could divest of you, if it is worth going, I would go freely. Is it worth going?"

[inkxquilled]

Daisy is silent for a long moment — too long, truly — as she stares into the flames once more, face entirely unreadable. It’s a practiced mask, one that was more natural when she was human. As a vampire, she hides better behind smiles and manic laughter, drug-tainted blood and the nighttime party scene. But right now, faced with the heaviness of choices and their circumstances, she feels almost entirely human.

She almost remembers a small child’s choice to withdraw from her peers when some deemed to too odd to be deserving of their kindness, making her odd in the eyes of the many instead of the few, reinforcing the decision in a never-ending cycle.

A teenager’s choice to sleep with a boy just to maybe — maybe — feel what it felt like to be looked at, loved, desired.

A frightened girl’s choice to hand her baby to someone else, never to see her again.

A man’s choice to gamble away the money his family needed to live, taken from them in the end when the debt could only be paid in blood.

A woman’s choice to more or less abandon her two children in the wake of her grief.

An older sister’s choice to do whatever necessary to put food on the table and keep her little brother in school instead of on the workforce himself.

And eventually, a vampire’s choice to drink them both almost dry in the mania of her unusual turning; to turn them too early to save them, instilling in them blood that was still mostly human, breaking them beyond any hope of repair; leaving them helpless to escape the guilt and ensuring they made easy targets for the enemies she didn’t yet know she had. That she didn’t care she had so long as she could get her next fix to ease her own pain.

Daisy feels them all rise up in her at once, like bile in the back of her throat. Her blood longs for a release from the feeling, the taste of Thrill on her tongue despite the near-century it had been since its destruction. She wants in so bad her chest seems to constrict with the longing, a desperate thing that cannot be ignored and cannot be helped, stuck in the middle with no way out.

“It would burn,” she says at last, her voice the quietest of near-whispers.

[helreginn]

Hel's own memory plays like morbid shadow-puppets through the flutter of fiery motion; No less impactful or vivid, but maybe less grief-stained.

A child's bloodied hands, clinging to viscera they couldn't bring themselves to abandon. Cheeks wet with tears wiped with worse.

Snowflakes falling slowly. Burying the last patch of grass a forest would ever see. White sheets, never to be peeled back. Funerary shrouds.

A gilt hall filled with laughter and warmth. Candlelight illuminating liquid through the thin veneer of a drinking horn. Vision blurred by prophecy, indecisively watching it slosh about.

Eyes both grey and honeygold. Bones revealed and concealed. A strange reflection. A girl and then a ghost. Or maybe the ghost first. She can never quite remember.

Tiny, insignificant moments in her family's epic tale. Incendiary incidents where she had thumbed at the flint in her mind and stayed her hand. Outcomes purchased before she'd even haggled or bartered. They ought to be wretched - and some must be - but most are held alongside godly understanding, that some things can only be this. Sometimes a choice abandoned, was never a choice at all.

"It would cleanse," she replies, knowing.

[sewing-elven-maid]

Molinde, admittedly, did not understand much, but given the game Hel and Tevildo had been carrying, she could take an educated guess. SHe sighed. "Oh, did he?" SHe looked at the cat with a half amused expression. "Then I shall see him healed, and granted his portion of the catch!" She gingerly pickd him up, and Tevildo hissed at her.

"I see you feel better already, o Sweet Prince. Then tending at your wounds shall be easy."

Tevildo emitted a furious yowl, but did not fight too much. "I shall tend at his wound, my Lady, please make yourself at home. I shall bring tea and refreshments in a moment."

With that, she disappeared to look at Tevildo's paw.

[helreginn]

"Indeed." Hel lowered her head in salient nod, taking her act as seriously as Tevildo took himself. "They will sing songs of his courage on this day."

And she herself would find time to goad him once again, into indulging feline instincts. That he had tried at all felt like a victory on Hel's part. And not a fictitious one, either.

"Please do. He must be well to enjoy the feast of his labours." She handed him over carefully, unbothered by his sudden outburst and then wiped her hands on her skirts. She turned to smile in Tevildo's direction, "Fret not, sweet prince. I will send your quarry to the kitchens posthaste."

Another nod in Molinde's direction, this time a more courteous and sincere expression to match, "I thank you for your hospitality." She said, watching as they went. A glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

[firejugglinghobo]

Dustfinger wasn't surprised by her answer. He wasn't unfamiliar with the sort of people that could do harm and still be loved and revered by their victims.

A memory passed behind Hel's eyes. If Dustfinger could have seen it, he was sure that he wouldn't like it. Whatever it was, it had so drastically changed the proud, tall woman he knew into a hunched child, sitting in an ash heap and mourning a life that hardly seemed worth returning to.

"And now?" he prompted softly. "What is he like now?"

Is he still around? Did you get out?

[helreginn]

"Arrogant as he ever was. Acts like I should be grateful that he only handed me an eternity of bone wasting duty and responsibility instead of having me bound and vivisected."

Like the men of my family.. she thinks but cannot bring herself to say.

The inherent cruelty of "gentle" misogyny wasn't lost on her. No, she was not tied up and made to bleed and writhe and scream but at least her brothers' and father's torment had an end. Angrboda's lament bore an ocean. Sigyn's stalwart devotion stole her from the sunlight. And Hel? When Odin is so long gone even the shape of his name is a whisper only ghosts could hold, she will still be there, tending her dead.

Brutality of a mental sort. No more pertinent and no less grieving. You escape the pain by slipping away from yourself. There is nowhere to run when you must think and continue in spite of untenable horrors. Awake and aware.

She curled her arms even tighter around her legs, seeking warmth and comfort that was as unreachable to her as the men.

[monsterxmade]

Is it so hard to imagine…

Anya’s eyes narrow further. No. She supposes it is not. Not when she understands so little of the world around her. Not when she understands so little of what she is. Though she would never long to return to her father’s basement, there is a part of her that has to admit that certain aspects of the world were easier to understand when it was much, much smaller.

“This is so weird,” she says. “All of it.”

[helreginn]

Where Anya's eyes come close but do not close, Hel's slowly meet and peel apart. She doesn't feel disquieted by the young girl's perplexed stare. Everything that Hel is is confusion and perturbing. Withering looks simply come with the territory.

The corner of her mouth twitches, an almost smile. "Weird is just your instincts asking you to broaden your experiences." Comes her quick-witted reply.

[starwrittenfates-archive]

Ciri couldn't help frowning slightly at her words, but knew there was truth in them too. After all, she was human herself and fell into the same category as the rest of men. "You're right about that, but...some try to be better. To do better. To learn from their mistakes and not repeat them again. Some do try to apologize and lay down their pride too."

She had remembered a time herself where she was consumed by hatred and vengeance and didn't want to stumble down that path ever again. To remember that would help keep her humble and remind her of what she wanted to avoid becoming.

"Maybe we all need a lesson and reminder in humility?"

[helreginn]

"Yes," She nodded once. "I always held fast to hope that one day he would. It would take time and care but even now.. much can be undone."

Deals would have to be made. Holds put in place so that retribution had due time to calm, but even then - maybe always - Hel hoped and lied to herself that her family could be together again; Where the sun shines and wolves roam free.

Her lineage made for riveting tale; The walk back to her camp rendered instantaneous by means of grandiose distraction. Hel beamed as her eyes caught sight of Ganglati, her male attendant. He sat comfortably on the ground before a small fire, his feet rested on his own knees. If she didn't know better, Hel would've sworn his head was sinking forward, almost asleep.

"Not I," the goddess laughed, a notably sing-song lilt as she tossed knee length hair past her shoulder. "I'm the very most humble of all my pantheon."

She grinned over at Cirilla, a conspiratorial look as she let her in on her joke.

"Isn't that right, 'La?" she called to the man who sat bolt upright in start.

[milleansxmort]

Though Hel’s explanation is vague, Celeste understands it completely. Or rather, she understands it in the same vague way that she understands how vampires are. There are no vampire scientists ( no real ones anyway ). There is no explanation for how the vampire agent works. No one even knows what it is. All they know is that it exists, and the obvious effect it has on their bodies. Hel’s blood magic seems similar and it contents Celeste’s curiosity enough just to know that.

“Yes, it does sound the same, doesn’t it?” she says with a thoughtful nod. “Blood is blood, after all. It makes sense.”

[helreginn]

"Yes." She nods once, supposing that it doesn't matter if she's wrong. Who would correct her? Who would guide her to learn the truth? All that still remember sit staunchly quiet on the matter. Pride and regret hold their words captive.

Hel is left to.. presume. To guess.

And so it only makes sense that she would find hope in brutal and bloody acts. Despite an abundance of anxiety, it is never in her nature to think the worst if a more romantic explanation can be conjured in her over-active imaginings.

She subtly turns over her wrist, only to unsubtly stare down at the vibrant blue peaking out of her near translucent skin. Earthly D.N.A. tests wouldn't know the difference. Blood brother's blood niece.

No, she thinks, You don't graft your branches to the tree of another in absence of love.

It had to be there.

It may still..

[helreginn]

@mystiokinesis asked:

"Do you want to dance?" (from berg because how can i not??)

The hall wasn't quiet. Filled to the brim with laughter and reverie. But the moment felt quiet; the fabric of his sleeve caught between her fingers as she unconsciously thumbed at it. The brush of his curls against her head as she leaned into his side and he looked about the boldly decorated space. The steady hand that curved around his own elbow, finding cool knuckles that still beneath his touch.

Neck slowly craned up, honey gold all but lost to the dark of her pupils as she smiled, doting and circumstantially nervous up at him. Her own hand she turned beneath his, trading sleeve for love's fingers.

Do you want to dance? He asked and her chest rose as a startled inhale gave away her mood.

Here, she thought, in front of all these people?

She instinctively curled both arms now around his elbow. Her breath was shaky but his gaze brought immense comfort. Finally, she exhaled and her smile resumed. No less doting or warm.

Hel trusted Bergfinnr. More than honest words conveyed.

"You'll take the lead?"

[eyes-blazing]

Emrys wrapped his arms around Hel, holding her close. She was so little for someone who had such a large personality. He smiled slightly and picked her up, swinging her from side to side gently.

[helreginn]

Older brother or younger made no difference when it came to such affections. They couldn't help themselves. And for their backs and her legs, nor would she want them to. Hel smiled and held Emrys tight. Despite their many spats, he always made her feel safe. She only hoped the sentiment was returned.

[fallen-guardian]

Andras couldn't help the soft chuckle at the unnecessary translation. "It's been a while, but I do know the language. Although I'm not sure just how much I can actually remember. And then I sometimes get related languages mixed up, especially older ones... But, that's all to say I don't really need a translation."

"Anyway, I enjoy mountains, too. Something about the altitude. Even though I can fly, it's different. But I really meant more like specific regions or any particular countries or cities? Personally I've always had a soft spot for Ἑλλάς, since it's the first place on Earth I spent any time in."

[helreginn]

"Ah," Hel exhaled, a half sheepish laugh. "That is good to know. I may still try. I am not so old but.. my mind is convinced my native tongue is ancient." And of course, one of her gifts is language. There are no people she cannot commune with in whatever way they are capable. It's only when referencing the old world, her old life, that her tongue slips.

She nodded along, feeling a sense of commonality in his sentiment. It made sense in her mind. They were beings of the cosmos, why should they not find comfort being nearer to the skies?

"I don't mind Grikkland, but my heart will always belong to Gangkhar Puensum. Much as I love the Midgardians I tend, sometimes it is freeing to be unwitnessed."

[firejugglinghobo]

How could he stop overthinking it? He was in a contract of some sort, which he didn't remember agreeing to, with a supernatural being, who he didn't understand. He didn't know the terms of the contract, and so far he had only ever heard one side of it.

But maybe Hel didn't understand it either. Maybe it was okay to take her at her word, and drop the term contract from his mind. And just simply take their relationship for what it looked like on the surface -- a friendship. One-sided, imbalanced, irrational. But just two people who had found that they gravitated toward one another.

"Fine."

He tried to smile and wasn't sure that he did a very good job of it.

"But you'll tell me when you start getting any ideas of wanting something in return."

[helreginn]

The silence of Dustfinger's words was intruded upon by the cacophony of thoughts writhing in her mind. She stared as she waited for his response; Waited to see if he would finally let it alone. The more he poked at her reasoning, the more anxiety gnawed at her insides like her dragons and wyrms gnawed upon the world tree's roots. What if he was right and there was something deeper that she just couldn't see yet? She had thought there wasn't but he seemed so adamant.

A shiver went down her spine as she envisioned hands holding their marienette strings, swinging them around until they are all tangled up in each other's lives and misadventures. Shamefully, she picked it up just as he finally was able to set it down.

Fortunately Hel kept her woes closer to the vest..

One of her braid cuffs clinked against another as her hair shook with the laughter his demand caused. "If you knew me better, you'd feel very assured in that." She folded her arms over her chest as she grinned up at him, "When I want something, everyone knows it.."

[yellingmetatron]

The archangel does his best to let himself get caught up in the broad positivity of the moment. His own inherent contrariness supplies him with any number of light, cynical utterances for the occasion, but he finds he wants to keep any cynicism far away from any discussion of Thor and his family.

It leaves him feeling somewhat unarmed.

"I can only hope to prove myself an equally worthy headache," he says lightly. "I can at least say with some conviction I'm rarely boring. Don't have the patience for it. Can I offer you a drink, or something, speaking of entertainment? I'm a lousy host in general but you are technically a guest, with all the rights that entails. And I wouldn't want to turn away a relative of Thor's without some attempt at hospitality."

[helreginn]

"Ah," her brows wrinkle together. The conversation leans semi-serious but her expression remains ever amused. "An admirable goal." She makes an act of admiring her nails (unpainted and black stained as they were) as she proudly jokes, "I myself have long mastered the art of headache inducing."

His next words earn a little snort. Good, she thinks, Þórr wouldn't know what to do with boring. She blinks then, sardonism traded for sincerity. She reaches up but not out, pointing in his direction with her fingers as her voice softens, "Fret not. None take me as his kin anymore." She leans closer to whisperingly add, "And I think you're doing fine so far."

Smile broadens and she nods once, "I will take a drink please. Alcoholic, if you've any."

[firejugglinghobo]

Dustfinger didn't entirely like the way Hel looked at him. Some days he wondered if he were just a sort of experiment to her. Her life had to be long enough to make his seem inconsequential in comparison, if she really was Death.

"That depends on the name."

He had traveled farther than most, particularly most of his social class. He'd often brought home tales that others found preposterous. He knew names that few would recognize.

And yet he was almost certain that even he wouldn't recognize the place that Hel named.

"You can at least give me a direction?"

[helreginn]

Her head turned to one side, she regarded him sincerely. Eternity reflected in her flame-licked eyes. Hel wanted to say it, just to hear it spoken aloud but.. she couldn't bring herself to even whisper. Despite his reassurance, a word is just sounds when all who knew it's meaning are gone. And they were. Gone. Her eyes lowered, clumsily finding another mark.

His offer of a smaller out felt almost a relief. The goddess sighed softly and still looking down, rummaged in her pocket for a wooden rectangle that shouldn't have fit inside. She held it in her open palm. If he looked (and she held it so that he would be able) he would see the bevel of three compasses set one above and to the right of the other. Their needle's all pointed in different directions but only one set of cardinal directions circled them. At the base, where a thumb should rest was a symbol close to but not quite like the Vegvísir (A stave intended to see people safely through storms); Instead of eight points it had nine. And three of the points, headed by runes, were burned (opposed to carved) darker than the other six.

The shift was subtle. A half step to the left before she turned the center-most circle of glass until she found north. Hel lifted only her eyes from the compass(es) to look at Dustfinger, "East."

She watched him, measured curiosity as she meant to measure his. He came to her like a child, yearning to know everything, but he skipped lessons; Lacked understanding in the workings of the world that made her explanations make sense.