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[Seriously, Hel? Your nephew is decidedly unimpressed because life isn't short for them. It's not even Ragnarok yet!]

[Oh, she sees that look. And is entirely unimpressed by it.]

Even we have ends, you know. Ragnarok may be some time away, but even that isn't forever, you know. We will die. Someday.

[Horus is perched on a large rock nearby, human for now (if largely by accident; he forgot the knack for going back again, so large and squishy and cold it is), knees pulled up to his chest as he regards the girl curiously, head tilted sideways, unblinking.]

Depends on perspective.

[The sight of a naked man isn't all that odd, even out here along the side of the highway. Or especially out here. She's not sure. She does get the sense, however, that that's the least odd thing about him. ]

I suppose a lot depends on perspective. Like the necessity of clothing. Are you cold?

[He frowns, blinking once finally, trying to find where it attaches. Where the reason for asking is. Clothing. Cold. They're...not really foreign concepts, exactly, but detached. Part of a different set of needs, like they're encoded in some modern language he doesn't know. Technology, maybe.

The answer comes slowly. Lips part, mouth opens, tongue sits, poised, large and clunky in his mouth.]

Don't need clothes. Like being wrapped in leaves. Or nets.

[He pulls a distasteful face, wrinkles his nose.]

[She looks quite amused overhearing this. Does it? Whenever she dies she's simply reborn from her own ashes. then again, sometimes it means starting over. She's had endless lives, and most have been a fun adventure.]

I suppose there's something to that.

And terrifying.

[Ah, that's an interesting look. Slightly uncomprehending, but not unintelligent. Just a little distant. Like someone trying to decipher a language they used to know but haven't spoken in years. There's a familiar flavor to that confusion. Reminds her a little of her brothers. Maybe that's why she's so patient, standing there smoking as she considers him.]

I might argue. Clothes can be a very convenient source of warmth. You look like you're freezing. Here. (The sweater she's wearing is large, hitting mid-thigh even on her lanky frame, and she doesn't hesitate before stripping down to the thin tank under it and offering him the sweater. It's not like she feels much of the weather, anyway.]

[For her, eternity has been an adventure. To Hel, it's been responsibility and shadow and loneliness. Until she disobeyed, and sent a part of herself here to learn the stories she could. It makes for a very different perspective.]

There is. It's everything, really. People just don't really think about it. Too busy living, I suppose.

I suppose that, too. But what's living without risk? It's terrifying, yes, but the rewards are that much the richer for the fear. Did you not find it so?

((ooc: I try to keep Hel fairly underpowered, but generally she's got a pretty good death-sense. Knows when people are, when they're undead, when they're living but shouldn't be and so forth. Plus, the dead tend to find her simultaneously terrifying and comforting. She's easy to talk to, and it's nearly impossible for them to lie to her. If any of that's not cool, let me know!))

[Birds don't wear clothes. Large fuzzy things either; they have feathers to keep them warm, basking in the sun to do what they can't. But feathers are gone, there's only skin and gangly limbs and -- no sun no warmth can't fly can't get close used to be his but not anymore -- cold. It doesn't bother him usually; he was warm all the time once, but here it's cold and wet and only warm some of the time. But she pulls it off and hands it to him and he reaches, numbly, fingers closing around it stiffly, clutching.]

Feathers are better. Don't scrape off so easily. Sun was closer, wouldn't be cold.

[Horus shakes it out, narrows his eyes at it while he tries to orient himself to it. After a long moment he tries to struggle his way into it, a long and arduous process. He remembers other clothes, flowing linen with more room to breathe, but this is far more complicated than those.]

[She's been around since the beginning, with no real rules holding her anywhere. it was adventure or boredom. So she's spent eternity making her own adventures.]

You're probably right. Most only get the chance to experience one lifetime. So it's best that they spend it living.

I don't know. Being mortal.... it's just hard to enjoy things when you're terrified of dying.

[Anna's a hot mess and has died, been undead, and dead, worked for Death (different one:P) multiple times. Currently mortal/alive due to magic. trying to follow it is likely to cause whiplash...]

[Feathers, he says, as he fumbles with the sweater, and watching the way his head and elbows struggle and flap in the material she's reminded of nothing so much as birds in a snare. A shapechanger of some sort, that much is obvious, but her forte lies with the dead and not the living. She can tell nothing beyond not human, not quite. She knows because that's her, too. Not quite anything, ever.

But that doesn't mean she's without compassion. Stubbing out her cigarette on a well-worn boot heel, she moves forward to help him, if he'll let her. Heat radiates from her thin, almost angular body, along with the faint scents of smoke, gardenias, and decay. Telltale signs of what she is. It doesn't take much more than a tug or two until the sweater's in place.]

Yes, feathers might be better, but we make do with what we have. Right now, you have my sweater. Is that any better?

Edited 2014-08-20 00:56 (UTC)

[In the beginning, it was all adventure. Just her and her big brothers, back when her father and mother were around. When they were a family. When it didn't matter what shape they wore or what they dreamed. Back before her father's family made her feel like half a person for the way she was born. She's learned hard truths, but she's found beauty in it all, too. It's why she believes this so strongly.]

Most people, yes. Most would say all of them. Only having one life is usually the standard. So many say they'd do things a different way if they had another chance, but I wonder. There's a reason most of their stories end the same way.

Puh-lease. Nuh uh. Not even, sister. No to-the-way, 'kay?

[Eliza would be sad to hear the things Hel has been through, but she's learned plenty of hard truths herself. She's unique, she's immortal, sometimes all it takes is that her real form is pretty. over the course of forever she's had plenty of beings try to capture her, keep her wild spirit in a cage for themselves. There was a period when she was bitter about it. These days she knows there's enough good around to make it worth having to slip through nets sometimes.]

They say it but... I've spent countless lifetimes watching others who only have one. And you're quite right, the stories do end in a similar way far too often. It's curious. I can''t help but be fascinated by it sometimes.

[She doesn't seem all that astonished by the idea that her companion may not be human. Then again, not much astonishes her these days. She just lights another cigarette and continues musing.]

All their stories are fascinating. Doesn't matter how many of them end the same way, I never stop being bewitched. What's your story?

Edited 2014-08-22 16:48 (UTC)

We all end sometime. Why be frightened of it? It's inevitable, yes, but that doesn't mean it's now. And you lose so much sweetness if you live your life terrified of the consequence of living itself.

((ooc: duly noted! I'll just leave her registering as mortal-ish and be done with it, haha. I know that sort of thing. It gets confusing, but as long as it's in good fun!))

...May I ask what you're so emphatically disagreeing with?

I've been dead. It really wasn't awesome. I really don't want to do it again.

[Dude srsly. Soconfusing.]

[Eliza is used to all types of reactions, including a lack of one. She's met plenty of other non-humans in her travels after all.]

That's true enough. My story? Mine is a very, very long story. A phoenix, born with the universe and traveling around it to see what there is to see. Much has remained the same, just as much changes all the time. A human form makes it easier to stay in one place for longer, so I adopted one.

Look, there's a lotta stuff that makes existence the trip that it is, but an itty bitty lifespan? Is not even in the running. That's 'lies to tell to mortals' territory, and even those fish won't bite.

Do you find that a human shape gives you a different perspective on life? I imagine the world looks different with wings.

[She's met a few beings like this one over the course of her lifetime. Some of them were relatives. It explains why she registers as something different to her senses. Something without any taint of death. She wonders what life must be like, to know there will never be an end.]

Again? Most people only get the one. It's the natural order of things. Upsetting that is...unwise.

Because they think with enough time, they can accomplish everything they intend to, wrap up all their loose ends and do something wonderful. I've seen otherwise. If given the chance, they just keep living the same petty lives. They keep putting things off. They don't ever take advantage of the opportunity. So what makes a longer lifespan in any way helpful?

Yeaaah. I might have upset some things. I keep dying and not staying dead.

Oh goodness yes. The difference between the two kinds of lives is absolutely astonishing. Sometimes I don't know how those without wings do it. I always have the option to take to the air and just go somewhere else. I struggle to understand what it's like for those without the option.

[Tedious, and glorious. Often simultaneously. On the one hand no matter what trouble she gets in to she knows she will survive somehow. On the other hand, she knows she will outlive pretty much everyone she knows, and some she calls friend have shorter lives than others.]

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HAVE SOME EGYPTIAN or something?

My favorite flavor!

YES GOOD.

have a phoenix in human form because yes

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delightful!

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:D

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Re: :D

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Re: :D

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