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It's Sunday, which for Sigrun is Hair Day. Hair Day is the day she takes luxuriant baths, literally lets her hair down, and generally pampers herself.
Also, the Minnesota Vikings clinched the NFC North last night in a squeaker against the colts, so she's earned it. Presently she's dressed in her house coat, long curly hair worn loose and brushed over her Kirk Cousins jersey. She's watching ESPN, is wearing a cream mask, and has the head of a big rottie-pittie mix in her lap, a glass of mead in her hand. Bare feet up, living the dream.
"STUFF HIS NUTS DOWN HIS THROAT!!"
She's living her best life in other words.
Ylva had heard it was pamper day and so had turned up ready to rumble.
Fur care, hair care, skin care. You name it she had it ready to pamper the shit out of her foxy self.
Right this moment though she was watching Sigrun while trying to brush out some knots. It's been a week.
Invisibly and without a sound, a blur of Bones arrived at the edge of the Land of Trees of the Direct Action Motley. The spells dropped only to be replaced when Bones pulled her three fingers across her mouth. From the edge, she spoke loudly, just to be heard as they approached, "I am called Bones, coming to visit the owners of the land," a head tilt as she looked back and forth, her voice being understood by the animals able to hear her.
A dog head, likely Oso's, appears in an upstairs window to give a friendly Bork. Sigrun's truck is in the driveway, and the bay window reveals the Eagles game on the big screen. It's about as 'come on in' as you can get, keeping in mind everyone inside is heavily armed!
Sigrun looks back over the couch when Garm's head perks up from Bones shouting. She looks to Ylva with a raised eyebrow, then back to the front door. Stepping into her moose slippers, she shuffles across the hardwood and opens the front door.
It's chilly, so she hugs her quilted coat around herself. "Y'all wizards funny. Come inside before your doopa drops off." She shuffles out of the path.
Ylva i half watching the game. Trying to understand which is an uphill battle despite everyone's best efforts.
"Wizards to be that way."
Then there is a deep blush as she scrambles to look presentable.
"Oh fuck I've been avoiding Bones since they triggered me."
Pulling up a mirror they try to make their half brushed half matted hair look presentable.
Even with the weather being near freezing, the Obrimos wore a blue ripple dress with heels. The cold never bothered her anyways.
"Oh, thanks Sigrun. Considering Garm, and my method of arrival, and the rest of the histories, I didn't want to surprise anyone and upset anyone, but since you had your chores last night, I wanted to come by and see the forge more in depth and things like that..."
She managed to skip a bit, even in the heels. She was almost as fluid in her step as humanly possible, but even then, she moved after Sigrun into the door.
And then she saw Ylva and she froze in a way that the predators would see prey for a moment.
Sigrun, blithely unaware of any history between Bones and Ylva, turns about as she's getting out of the way, just in time for it all to register.
She freezes, mouth in a big 'o' shape in the middle of all that antioxidant moisturizer. And then, desperately, she begins to do a silly dance in her moose slippers between the two women.
"Please don't eat my friend," she sings cheerfully, "or I'll make you poop a neeew one...!" Sometimes you just dive on the hand grenade.
Ylva anxiously looks to Sigrun with a shocked Pikachu face.
"Hey I haven't bit anyone without consent in a while. She just made a joke that hit a little close to my Durance last time."
Then there is a wave to Bones, a hair brush stuck in her hair and a mirror in the other hand.
"Hey cute stuff."
Sigrun broke Bones out of the freeze into a peel of laughter, first bent over forwards, before falling backwards on her ass. Near human perfection in grace, still socially clumsy af.
And then Tommy popped to her feet and ran to hug Ylva with a big ol' squeeze, "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize. I've learned some things since then and ... I'm SORRY."
Ylva lent into the contact trying not to crush Bones well bones.
"Is fine really. No big deal. We just having spa day! And another person is trying to teach me how the game works."
Dignity sacrificed for sake of a harmonious home, Sigrun sighs genuine relief when the two hug and an apology is offered. She shuts the door and steps away from it again, not bothering to reclaim her seat.
"It's my hair day. I can take you out to see the forge, or-- and hear me out here --we could do your hair and nails and get you drunk and talk about relationships and the new Dessa album." Sigrun points to the kitchen and announces, "Whatever you decide, I'm doing it with more mead." She hums her 'getting myself mead' song as she shuffles towards the fridge.
Higge is a concept one can begin to understand by being in a Sigrun home. There's stew on the fire, fresh bread on the stove, a fire to have stew on. Furs and quilts and padded furniture. It's cozy here.
She leaned over and gave Ylva a Kiss on the cheek, before slipping out of the grasp and turning to look between the pair, "Yes. Please. I've never had a Spa Day. Not looking like this! I've never had my hair done or nails done by girlfriends...." she claps, giddy. Afterwards, she tosses her satchel onto the floor near a seat.
And then, "May I have some mead?"
After a moment, she pivots to sit and bounces in place.
Ylva sits with a flop in front of Bones talking to the kitchen.
"Can I have non alcoholic Mead or water please?"
Before she leans back into Bones.
"Please help me wirh these knots. It's been a week."
Sigrun drains her glass and reaches into the fridge for two opaque glass bottles slapped with DIY labels of a red panda head and a date. Homemade! She pours some water, but also puts on a pan and pours some cider into it, adding a cinnamon stick and a few cloves. That done, she heads back to the living room with the drinks.
"I put on some cider for you, too, Ylva. Give it a few minutes to warm. By the time you can smell it, it should be ready."
One glass of water for Ylva, a stoppered bottle for Bones, and then she's off towards the stairs. "Let me go fetch ... the kit." She's already beautified after all, so her gear is mostly put away.
Leaning forwards, her hands started to work on Ylva's knots. Having long flexible fingers, and knowledge of athletics and knots were useful in more ways than one. She happily worked first on the top of the head of all things, working along the center of her skull, then the base, and then the neck.
As the drink came, she unstoppered it and took a pull and sighed happily, "Oh that is good."
And then she went back to the massage while the hostess got the kit.
Ylva sips at the water with a chuckle swishing her hair to the side.
"I did mean my matted mane but I'll take a massage any day and thanks Sigrun."
As she continues to work on her mane.
Sigrun isn't gone long. She returns carrying a case filled with beauty products, many of them naturally derived, if not homemade. There are a great many brushes, both for human and animal hair. She sets them down on the table, and considers that statement.
"Well, Bones can't see your mane, silly. Not out here, at least. And not safely, if so. So you can let me give it a try?" She's eyeballing Bones now, clearly debating something. She even worries at her lip about it, open book that she is.
"A ... mane?" she studied the hair, "Oh. I guess I've heard people call their hair mane..." and then a tilt of her head at Sigrun's mention, and "Oh! Lost stuff. Sorry. Still forget that you're not what I see here..."
And then her head tilted the other way to look and study Sigrun.
Ylva wiggles happily at that. Clearly being flirty and leaning forward.
"Well now. A girl couldn't say no to being pampered by two babes at once now."
As she leans forward she stops brushing handing Sigrun the very cheap brush.
She can afford better but self worth and all that jazz.
Sigrun gives Bones a big grin meant to hide that she's thinking a naughty thought idea and fails utterly. When handed the cheap brush she just says, "Oh, thanks!" And sets it aside to grab up a pet brush designed to coax out undercoat and reduce matting. She pats it against her palm while considering Bones and Ylva, mouth screwed up. Finally she just sighs gustily and begins, at least to Bones, playing pretend with Ylva in starting to demat her coat. She's good at it, too.
She paused her massage for a moment, and pulled out her flask from the bag. she stood and slipped into the kitchen. The cider's smell grew stronger, warming up slightly faster than expected (kenning?) and then she returned with the flask.
"Huh. I have an idea. And an idea is all of an Awakened needs to do things. Would you," using the plural second person to include all present, "object to me, using my abilities to help heal your body, including your hair, Ylva?"
A tilt of her head as Ylva reaches a hand up to touch her bleach damaged hair.
"I won't say no but its not my Hollow."
Her nostrils flare slightly to the smell with a grin.
"Being pampered and the smell of cider. Its a good day."
Pretend matting is pretend pulled from a real brush and pretend set on the real table. And Sigrun keeps up her work diligently from over the back of the couch.
When Bones offers to magic the problem away, Sigrun seems fine with it and instead heads off to pour a mug of hot cider for Ylva. She returns, sets the mug down for Ylva, and then begins fishing through her kit for nail colors that flatter Bones and her choice in dress. She seems to think glittery blue colors. Of course, most of her colors are some variety of blue, as it turns out. So this is a happy accident.
Ylva takes the mug with a smile and leans back into Bones. Though there is a little hint of sadness at the loss of intimacy it provided.
She held up the cider-filled flask and took a sip, "Amphora, Ka, Udjat!" before making a zig-zag motion over the flask and offering it to Ylva.
"Gesundheit," Sigrun responds automatically. Shade selected, she starts fishing for an accent color. Off white seems natural, though she's setting aside some dark opal style colors, too.
"What's all that mean? Amphora are those Roman standing pots, right?"
Ylva looks up at Bones with a soft look on her face continuing to sip at her cup.
"Cheers. I dunno? Is that the right response?"
"Take a drink, and the cider will help. It's holding the magic right now."
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
She takes the drink with a tilted head before taking a sip with a shrug of the shoulders.
Sigrun watches all of this with a withdoctor's fascination for another's craft. She squints at Ylva, waiting to see if anything spectacular happens. Once all the colors are selected, she blindly reaches for her mead and swills down three big gulps. It ends with a dainty little burp.
Bones' blush returned, with a warmth spreading through her as Sigrun got everything ready. In contrast, using her magic to heal her friend?/love interest?/tbd?, seemed very intimate for Bones, and the first 'spa day' with 'the girls,' had her anxious and happy and a multitude of emotions all at once.
"Amphora, also used in Egyptian, for storing oil or wine. Ka is the part of your life force or spirit that makes you up, and Udjat, or the Egyptian Eye lots of people think about, means that which is made whole. So, I was basically using it to tell her life energy that her body needs to be made whole, including nutrition, hydration, and rest."
Her eyes moved over the shades of blue, giddy again that it matches her outfit. Then she took a biiiiiiig pull of her mead to get ready. Part of the goal was to get drunk, apparently.
Ylva smiles running her hand through her mane and hair with a smile.
"Oh, wow. Thanks Bones."
Then she reaches up giving her a little peck on the lips. Followed by flopping down to continue her cider.
"This is lovely by the way Sigrun."
"oh...." The kiss on the lips had the blush dial up to 11. THe grin with it was nearly Joker level.
She then alternated between the Cider and the Mead, not sure which was better, other than knowing they were both probably some of the best versions of the drinks she had in her life.
She was ready for whatever came next, and watched Sigrun for the next steps.
"Oh! Like how I scream a lot before I charge." No, Sigrun. Not really. But she's fairly certain she understands, apparently.
Finally, she pushes the coffee table away to make space for herself to curl up in front of where Bones is sitting so she can more easily do her work. She starts with cuticles and shaping, of course. Clippers, snips, Emory boards and the like. Paradoxical work from hands a bit gnarled from bone breaks and criss crossed with scars. But she never seems to see the contradiction, and her care feels like nurturing all the same. She doesn't concern herself with the smoochytimes, either. Just happy to be doing her bit, it seems.
Ylva leans back into Bones pulling her arms around her sides so Sigrun can work. A smile on her face as the pamper day proceeds.
The Lost would feel the Joy emanating from the Awakened. Just so in the moment, and reaching out to touch Ylva's face with whichever hand was free at the time while Sigrun worked.
"So... did you two meet recently or close to when Ylva returned and Klaire found her?"
"We met through Vorpal," Sigrun explains pleasantly as she lays down a clear base coat nail by nail. She scrunches her nose a bit to get it done. Old eyes.
"It's been busy lately. With escapes and such. Which is a mixed blessing, cos it usually comes with increased efforts at recovery." She blows on Bones's fingers after this strategic observation.
There is a content smile at the mention of Vorpal as she squirms to get comphy. Leaning her head back on Bones chest and closing her eyes. Eventually her breathing becoming steady in the calm embrace of a fox nap.
She wrapped an arm around Ylva's waist to hold her safely, switching as needed for the pampering.
"So you are part of Summer, yes?" she asks Sigrun, "And you are all about protecting others. It makes sense with your denmother feel. I'm also able to try and help with the escapee thing, if I think about it. Maybe some looking through time. But I know I'm not here to magic all of your problems away. I just want to feel useful to help friends."
When Ylva nods off, Sigrun curls up a grin and looks first to Bones, then indicates the afghan on the back of the couch. Perfect for draping on sleepy foxes.
"That's at once accurate and a big oversimplification, but yeah. And we're happy to have help, it's just that sometimes you guys can get a little big in your heads. And then you start doing your magic on the other side of the looking glass, and that's where the problems start."
She finishes one hand, and stretches her back out with a pop or three before offering her hand again to start on Bones's other.
She carefully pet the fox, and adjusted her to the next seat of the couch, helped her curl up, and draped with the blanket.
"Oh. Yeah... like just now, I suppose..." she said with self-realization now, "I'm sorry. Magic is just... just like how you went right into the needle deal last nigth, I think."
She offered the other hand to Sigrun. "I apologize. I... its within me. I forget a lot not to use it for casual things. Why get up and grab a glass, when the glass can float to your hand..."
"Oh, for sure. I think you can probably understand me best through my faith. I'm Asatruar. I follow the Gods of my ancestors and favor the Lady of the Vanir. I measure myself by the worth and honor I bring to my community through my family. All work for the good of all. That means not only lifting a shield when the need arises, but mending a torn pair of pants, tending the sick, ensuring there's food in bellies and wood on fires. Sometimes that means playing fairy godmother to ensure the best potential outcome for a risky but well-intentioned dalliance. In general, the less people notice my meddling? The happier I am. And in general I think you can get away with it if people don't notice you're up to it. I do." She's blushing a little as she says it.
"The problems crop up when people don't ask permission or think they know best. If I thought you were trouble, though, I wouldn't be doing your nails in my night clothes." She glances up through her lashes at that. Riding that happy line of humor and ribaldry that seems her domain.
"Well, I am honored to see such a warrior in her night clothes. Vincent might have been more obvious about it, but all of you, as you entered, each took my breath away in different methods," referring to last night, "For Lady Freyja then, yes? Fertility, Wisdom and the Future... it seems very very fitting. I didn't get to speak to her when I awoke, but I probably could...." she mused.
"I don't have that exact religious reason for it, but I definitely feel a drive to help my community. Many that walk the Path of the Aether have a specific faith they follow, or at least 'use,' to make it sound negative but it's not meant to..." she shook her head, "I tend not to try and sneak powers because anyone like me can feel the power, and I'm sure other beings have a chance. With the Sleepers though, I definitely will try and help inspire sometimes. Maybe give a mental boost to a professor stuck on their latest research, or help someone get over a cold before a big game... I just want to help, you know?"
Sigrun falls quiet for several seconds, expression dimming a bit. Something in that first bit didn't land quite right, but Sigrun doesn't seem offended or anything. Pensive, maybe.
"It's important to me that people like me for what I do. What I am capable of. I wasn't always... uh." There's no not shitty way to put this, really. "I used to be very plain. A very ordinary farm girl. In Farmington Minnesota. Chubby. Awkward. Crooked teeth. Same freckles!" She touches her cheek with brief brightness, but it fades. "My hair was always beautiful, though. I thought. He took me for my beliefs and my breeding. He could make me beautiful if he wanted, so he did. Can't fake the rest, though."
She goes on without trying to let the topic linger, "So. Yeah. I like helping too. How do you make sure your helping is hust helping and not steering? I worry about that a lot." Whether this works to move the discussion along remains to be seen as she finishes off the base coat of Bones's nails.
"I.. .ugh... I keep hitting Durance stuff. I'm sorry that he did that to you. I'm sorry to have hit a sore spot," especially after Ylva, her face said.
"As for helping... I don't put thoughts into their mind. I don't force them to do anything, but just give them... the potential to be their best selves in their chosen field."
And then she studied her nails, "Ooo... good form, and excellent color pick. You're very good at this. I'm still getting used to what the culture calls feminine things. This?" motions at her form, "Is technically a spell. It helped me realize my own Identity, so yeah, I want to have more of these type of things... hell, I want to get fucked like this. I haven't had a real relationship in years, because its hard in ruins. SO ... I don't know why my ramble brought me there, after your stuff. Maybe the little Latinx in me that looked dorky as hell and had to fight more than one bully in my life connects to the Minnesota girl."
"Oh, honey," Sigrun reassures with a gentle hand pat. "It's every transfemme's most sincere wish to be well and truly railed while wearing a sundress." Sigrun gives Bones's hand a squeeze, and it definitely suggests this isn't an unfamiliar conversation.
"The good news is you're among friends. We have people on all sorts of gender journeys in this house. Teagan changes gender whenever he likes, for example. And I love them in all of them."
She begins putting away her polishes and such, tidying up after her work. "Do you have a partner preference? Or is that as negotiable as your gender?" She stays on the floor cos she's comfy there, but rests her arm on the cushion near Bones, looking up with those big blue eyes that don't appear to hold a bit of insincerity to them.
"As long as I have a connection with them, their gender, their sex, whatever body shape they have is less important. I mean... I am fluid in a few ways," and lets the spell drop to reveal his masc form, "So I can kind of match the partner, if I need to as well, if that makes sense."
And then they were back in their femme form with a ripple of magic, "I love the welcoming air here. I feel as home here, as at my own home, and a few other close folx..." her hand went to scritch the sleeping Ylva, while the other rested on Sigrun's hand on the armrest.
There's startlement at the sudden change. How could there not be? But once the initial surprise, she gets curious and leans in a bit to squint some more. She hasn't figured out how to make her own glasses, clearly. And then the swap back happens and she makes a quiet yip sound of renewed surprise. Her head ticks just a bit to the side as it all catches up and tries to contextualize all that she just saw with her understanding of how the world works. She gets there, eventually, though.
"Well. I am absolutely certain I can get you fucked, but I'm going to be honest I don't really think you're going to need my help, really? You seem to have the basics pretty well figured out. Find a cute girl. Brush the mats from her coat. Feed her cider. Knock her unconscious." The humor again.
"Do I please you?" She gestures with her hand at herself generally. "I mean, I know in general people tend to like all they see. But the rest, too."
The reference to Ylva made her blush come out again, and then the blush turned ruby at the question. "You seem intelligent, loyal, friendly, caring, helpful... you've welcomed me, twice, in your home. You helped two people you didn't know to better their relationship in whatever way thaty ou did... Yes, you are very pleasing. And then, I don't quite get it, but we're about the same height, but when I look at you, I feel like I have to look up."
Bones stepped in something again. But that's sort of the thing with the Lost. All they are is survival instincts shambling about in what survived of their souls. This is just what being her friend means. "That would be his work, too."
She goes on to explain, "I was crafted to be one of his Valkyrjar. I served the high table in his mead hall, and flew over his battles choosing the slain. I battled Jotünn. You can't help it, to a certain extent. And we are forced to constantly live up to these higher expectations, to step up with the right thing to say, you know?"
Moving on again, Sigrun takes Bones's hand with both of hers. "All of that to say, I am telling you this because I want you to know. If I didn't want you to come around me, I wouldn't tell you. So don't feel bad. Feel happy we're sharing."
That pang of sadness for hurting someone was clear on her face. For someone that can immolate a city block, she sure seems unwilling to even poke at sore spots. However, she was encouraged by Sigrun's words.
She leaned down and kissed the scarred hands holding her hand, "Thank you for telling me Sigrun. In our honest moment here, in our sharing, because it might come up, I want to let you know something else. Vorpal and Teagan thought I shouldn't mention it to you and a few others, but if you are willing to hear it, I will tell you."
Sigrun has a face journey that is made greatly more amusing given the mask she's wearing. And then, as though she had a dimmer switch, Sigrun's light goes out. Figurative, and though Bones is unaware of it, rather literal. To make it clear this isn't about Bones, but rather about what she knows the news probably concerns she gives Bones's hand a squeeze before turning about and balling up with her back against the couch. After a few seconds she pulls her knees up to her chest. "Okay. You can tell me."
"When I awoke, I had a moment of clarity at a sacred site to the Aztec pantheon. However, I didn't just speak to those divine beings, but divine beings from around the world. Including the NOrse beings. Including Thor. And the Head of the family," not mentioning the name of the Old Bird, "It wouldn't be the same, because I was in the Aether, where it's a matter of faith and religion and exotic truths of the world. It's not even the Mage Arcadia that the Acanthus walk through... but because I've met so many of the beings, or summon some, or see them in my magics, I wanted to let you know, should it ever come up."
Sigrun was quite literally bracing for ... for something. But it never comes. The news passes over her, and her conscious mind and subconscious seem to reach rather speedy agreement that she's not about to start dissociating.
"Okay. So you know whose many names we don't mention around here and why. And are taking care to inform me about it before we do anything more, here. That's all really good stuff, actually." Bones gets to see what good therapy can do for a person! She comes out of the back end of it all with a long sigh that slumps her back against the couch. She states at the ceiling for a moment then asks, not coincidentally, "So how'd you imagine it'd be? Your first time like this?"
"Honestly? I've flirted with a few guys, but they got too... toxic. I've flirted with some women at the bars and I just don't think they were for me. That personality is important, yeah? I just.. honestly I don't know. I just want to feel that passion, that joy, that desire, that slight fear of what comes next. It's all just a bundle, yeah?" a shake of her head, "I know that I'm very submissive by nature," a flicker of a look towards the sleeping Ylva, "and many of my ideas," a flick back to Sigrun now, "are ... involved in the BDSM and further related communities and fetishes. So when I Imagine, it's a lot of different things."
Sigrun, eager to return to more pleasant discourse, nabs her bottle of mead and turns back around to look up at Bones on the couch. None of what's shared shocks her, neither does she seem particularly drawn to the concept. She nods with a big smile, "Oh, heck yeah. Get it, girl!"
"Anticipation, expectation, awareness but uncertainty, trust but wariness. You want to know you're alive by getting as close to not alive as we can with joy in our hearts and parts in our parts." Truly, Odinn created a poet.
"I think I get it. And if not, it sounds like you could show me when we get close enough." Sigrun chooses this moment to take a swig of her mead. It is accompanied by a wink.
"So. I'm really clumsy at this stuff. But if you trust me, keep talking. And maybe we should go for a walk."
"I trust you, I wouldn't tell if I didn't. Well I might overshare, but, I've told you deeper things in my heart that some others," a smile and a bob of her head. She finished the drinks and tucked the flask in her satchel, "I would be happy to walk this beautiful land. And we'll keep talking for sure." Her face was red with drink and blush at Sigrun's wink.
"Time for me to disclose, too. I can't lie to save my life. So I almost never try. Usually I find creative truth to say. And sometimes that doesn't work, either. I'm not bad at keeping secrets, I'm very good at it. What I'm not good at is not being read. So. Oversharing with me is both risky but also kind of appreciated? And I want to apologize in advance if something you let fly lands wrong with me."
Sigrun finally pulls herself up off the ground and creaks and cracks to her feet. Once upright, she butch groans, rolls out her back, and then tosses her head side to side.
"I actually want to take you somewhere else. My settlement in the Hedge. You'll need to keep your magic to yourself unless you ask nicely, and make a promise to behave in essence. But I'll be making the same promise. You'll get to see the real me, and all." She gives it finger quotes. Because it deserves them.
And then she offers her scarred hand again. "C'mon."
She took the hand, "WIll my form be fine there? I will do my best not to cast anything else... would it somehow attract others?"
Interestingly, she left the heels by the couch, so she could walk barefoot easier with her.
The choice to abandon her shoes doesn't appear to be a problem, since Sigrun likewise steps out of her moose slippers. Her quilted housecoat is slipped off and hung up, traded for a walking coat which she slides on and belts over her chemise, and then continues on towards the door beneath the stairs.
She leans against it and whispers to it softly before turning the door handle and tugging it open.
That is not a broom closet.
"After vous, chickie-poo."
Again, following fae folk through magical doors? Nothing could go wrong with this. She headed inside!
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