Dustin couldn't help but grin a bit. He liked this kid.
"Nah, the cowboys are a couple of states over. I wouldn't worry too much though; this is the Valley. No one will bay an eyelash at it. If you want, though, we can schedule a little shopping time. If this is your first time out, we can make a day of it! Get up early and head out to Malibu Beach and catch some waves. We could hit the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica after."
Chloé waits for Dustin to close the door, then accepts a seat and crosses her legs. She listens curiously to Ulf's tale, occasionally nodding, as she absorbs it. When Chase comes off the couch, she nods and actually chuckles slightly, then says, "Of course! Here, just let me..." She takes the pencil and signs her name elegantly with a small flourish, pauses for a moment, then draws a sword underneath the signature and adds "a.k.a. Red Sonja."
"But my heroics are just special effects," she says as she hands the sketchpad back to Chase. "These events... they presage something new and dangerous. Something too real. What was that quote? A world so unreal, and yet simultaneously too real?" she says, (possibly mis-)quoting Big Trouble in Little China.
Recognizing the quote, Dustin grinned and chuckled a bit, then chimed in.
"All has become strange. A world so unreal and yet, at once, so frightening. Love that movie. Real classic! And pretty apropos, I would think. Well, I think we're about to be moving beyond the realm of cameras real soon."
Chloé smiles faintly and says, "Yes, that's the one. But what are we moving toward? I have not been told what exactly we are expected to do here, other than that the, well, melodramatic fate of the world depends upon us."
Dustin shrugged, draining the rest of his mug in one smooth motion that would have made the Einherjar proud. He moved to refill it; the alcohol was miles away from impairing him even a little.
"You've got me, there. Ulf was the one that called us all together. Maybe he knows a bit more?"
"Yeah man, that'd be killer. Didn't take my board halfway across the world for nothing," says Chase with a grin as he gingerly stows the sketchpad back in his bag. "I probably should get some new clothes but I'm not exactly flush with cash right now. Getting a call from the gods kind of interrupted my plans to make money when I got here, you know?"
Dustin shook his head.
”Your money would be no good here anyway, bro. I’m not exactly destitute; filling out your wardrobe won’t hurt me in any way. Consider it a ‘Welcome to Cali’ gift,” he said with a smile.
"Money will not be an issue," says Chloé. "We are, it seems, bound by these strange turns, and now we have but each other to call upon."
Dustin glanced over at Chloé.
”What about you? Ever get into surfing? We could all make a day of it; team bonding experience?”
"Skiing and snowboarding. If I went surfing off the coast of Malibu we'd have to worry about paparazzi," she says. "Also, I'd have to buy a wetsuit, as I don't own one at present, though that's really just a minor inconvenience. But I do enjoy the Promenade. If you think that 'team-building' is the order of the day, then so be it. Ulf, have you any more information for us...?"
You never really understood what he was saying during his more mad ramblings. You caught words here and there; Náströnd, Gjöll...Gjallarbrú. They were just words, though, words that had no meaning.
Not until a month ago, anyway.
Officer Dragger came to visit you, to make sure you were doing well, and you caught some things about the man you had never noticed before; just a hint of formaldehyde. A gray pallor to his skin. A certain stiffness in his movements and facial expressions. You didn't say anything, but you saw it...and you knew, somehow that you had seen it. That was the only thing that could explain his private smile at the end.
Everything became clear later that night.
A DOA had come your way. Woman in her early thirties. Her face was bruised and lacerated; she had, from the report, been driving drunk and not wearing a seatbelt. You could tell without even trying that cause of death was internal bleeding from blunt trauma to the head; there was still glass in her skull from where it had cracked the windshield. Still, you went about doing your duty, and got ready to perform an autopsy.
Then she sat up.
Then she started talking.
To say you were creeped out was an understatement, but gradually, you relaxed. The corpse was, in fact, not herself; she was possessed by your mother. Hel. The Goddess of Death. She told you impossible things, but you believed her. That your father had been a prophet; that was why he went mad. He had seen the truth of things and eventually broke under what he knew. That you, and several like you, were chosen. That the world was to die, and that you might be able to help a bit survive, or at least, to influence what came next.
She was not overly warm...which was good. That would have really weirded you out. No apologies were given for how you were raised; you were who you were, and to her, that was a good thing, no matter how it had come about.
She offered you assistance in the form of relics and divine power, and instructed you to wait on the call from a man that, surprisingly, you knew in passing; Ulf Johnson. The two of you had spoken on the phone several times a couple of years ago; you had surprisingly similar cases, cases that went unsolved. Cases that all of a sudden made far more sense...
Ulf called you for a meeting. You had to get out to California, and there, you would find out what destiny had in store for you.
"Surfing's just like snowboarding 'cept the snow's melted, I imagine," says Chase. "I don't have a lot of experience with snow myself. Or paparazzi, for that matter."
"Is Red Sonja 2 happening?" says Chase, continuing to babble. "Heard a rumor from a tradie that it wasn't but I can't believe they wouldn't make a sequel, wouldn't they?"
"I suppose that depends on what happens with the rest of the world," Chloé says. "I have seen the draft script. I'm, ah, a little booked right now. I'm not sure what I'd say if they asked me about it on E!."
Dustin drummed his fingers on his counter.
"I had to deal a bit with that, back in my pro days. Mostly during the season, and in the locker room. Once your stop burning safeties for ten TD's a season, though, the media gets way less interested. Mostly I just have fans recognize me when I'm out at a bar and have a nice chat with them. I'd bet my fancy new magic sword that the folks at ESPN are a lot more laid back than TMZ and the like, though!"
"It's always 'what dress will you be wearing to the Oscars?' and 'who are you dating now?' and 'did you like kissing Robert Downey Jr.?' They seem to forget that I'm an M.D. now," says Chloé with an eyeroll. "You know, when I went to the Oscars in 2014, the producers wanted me to wear the Red Sonja armor. I threatened to come in my medical scrubs. We compromised with a red carpet dress. Hollywood is obsessed with youth, but you can't be young forever. I made plans to do things... of course now we find out that maybe you can be young forever. Nevertheless, I think my career is taking another significant turn."
She sighs and says, "Whatever we've gotten into, though, it's about more than just me. Dustin, if all of this business of werewolves and giants is true, we're all going to need more practical coaching in martial arts and Crossfit."
Dustin nodded. The fanboy in him just barely managed to avoid asking who she was, in fact, dating now, but he had more sense than that. And more self-control.
Barely.
"I've got the feeling we're all going to be picking up things from one another. I'm happy to teach what I know, though. I'm sure we all have areas of expertise. I have to admit, at first, I was a bit surprised by this particular group. A surfer, a fitness trainer, an actress, a private investigator and...well, sorry Erika, but you never did mention what it is you do. But at first I was thinking we were sort of a motley crew. Now I'm not so sure. I mean, if this was a football team, we wouldn't win many games if we were all quarterbacks. Sure, we'd be great at passing the ball, but that's not enough."
He regarded Chloé for a moment.
"I know what you mean, though. At least a little bit. All anyone wanted to hear about was how I made that catch, or if my shoulder injury was bad enough that I might not play next week. Nobody really cared if I wanted to say something about Kaepernick or kneeling. I should just be a dumb football guy and get them their fantasy points...god forbid I have two brain cells collide and spark a thought."
Ulf holds up a hand, making a visual display of counting the group. "One, two, three, four, five..." He finishes by holding up the index finger of his other hand. "There's one left. The werewolf ties into this, I promise. Just please be patient; I wouldn't think that they're going to be too late to the party."
He smiles. "Once they show, I'll begin the meeting."
Nick, most people these days call him Dr. Thornton but he still thinks of himself as Nick, gets out of the car once his Uber driver stops. He's glad to finally be out of the car, the driver wouldn't stop talking about some girl he was trying to get to go out with him. No chance in Dr. Thornton's professional opinion.
He sees a couple cars already parked, "Dad-blame flight delays, now I'm late." He rushes towards the door. Or, he starts to before remembering his bag in the trunk. He turns back, smacks the lid and Paul, the driver, opens up. Nick retrieves his luggage. It contains a couple changes of clothes, a bullet proof vest and a pair of odd items. He always hated wearing the stupid vest but the Memphis PD always insisted when he had to go to a crime scene. He figures that it might come in handy.
Bag in hand he rushes towards the house without a wave for Paul. He takes in the swanky place and looks down at his clothes. He decides that he's probably going to be underdressed in his blue jeans and Megadeth t-shirt. Hell, I'm not at work and I ain't puttin' on a tie.
He knocks on the door.
"And here he is." Ulf says, satisfied.
Chloé rests her hands on her knees as her leg gently kicks slightly - nerves? anticipation? impatience? She glances from her seat to the new stranger.
Dustin, once more (and hopefully for the final time) heads to his door. He approves of the T-shirt he sees through his peephole.
"Hey there! I'm Dustin Reinhard. Come on in, there's plenty of room, and food if you're hungry. Care for a cocktail or something? I'm happy to make one."
Once more, Dustin offers his hand.
"Whaddaya say there Dustin, name's Nick Thornton. I'll take some water if ya got it," he says in that unmistakable southern accent. He reaches out to take the offered hand. For a second he squeezes just a bit too hard, still unused to his new strength.
"Sorry about that."
"If I am correct, I should get started soon." Ulf says, smiling and glancing at the window.
Dustin looked at him, a bit perplexed for a moment. It was just a firm handshake.
"My dad taught me a firm handshake says a lot about a man, so you're just fine, Nick. Sparkling or flat?"
4 successes
Dustin glanced at his window, but stayed silent about it.
"Go ahead and start, Ulf."
Nick returns the perplexed look, then something seems to hit him.
"Ah, your dad's a smart man. I bet he's strong too eh? Flat is fine."
Dustin smiled ruefully.
"He is, yeah, but he's not the one I meant. I had a mom and dad growing up...I don't think either one knows I'm, ah, unusual. I haven't exactly worked out how to tell them yet."
Dustin moved over to his fridge after getting a glass and got Nick some water from the filter. He offered it to the man, then waited for Ulf.
As you clear your throat, Ulf, that flapping you heard earlier gets far closer. Suddenly, a pair of ravens, bigger than any you have ever seen, fly into the room, and land on the dinner table. They do not comport themselves like normal birds; instead, their gaze takes in each of you in turn. You get the sense that they are weighing and measuring your worth, and they have not yet tallied it totally.
Then something really weird happens; they start to talk.
"Well," the one on the left begins, a slight British accent creeping through, "At the very least, they can follow instructions, eh old chum?"
The one on the right laughs...the raven just laughed. That's a thing that happened. It speaks next, pieces of Brooklyn on it's tongue.
"Yeah, at least they can do that! Might be the old man can make something of 'em yet. But we're being rude, eh? We should introduce ourselves. I'm Munin."
"I'm Hugin," the other one chimes in.
Hugin speaks.
"You did quite well to begin with, Ulf. We apologize on behalf of the Aesir for the...rather clandestine way we brought you about. It was thought that it would be best for you all to learn of this together."
"Yeah," Munin broke in, "Besides, we wanted to give you a little while to get used to the idea that there's more to the world than you thought. Gods and monsters, and all that."
Hugin continued.
"You are not the only Scions the Aesir have spawned this generation. But you are the first to receive Visitations. Whether you have been aware of it or not, your parents have kept tabs on you, and who you are has impressed them enough for them to draft you. I say this not as hyperbole; you are, quite literally, being drafted into a war for all existence. This may frighten some of you. Farnkly, I hope it it does, because it's a terrifying concept. A healthy amount of fear can help keep you alive."
Munin broke in again.
"Here's the long and short of it, kids; Ragnarok is coming. From what the Aesir can tell, it's damn near here. Thor, Odin, Tyr...a lot of others, their fates have been written for millenia. But you...nothing is written about you. Fate has been changed before, so the All-Father hopes against hope that you might be able to do something to stem the tide of horrors that the end of days will bring."
Hugin picked up the thread of conversation.
"The All-Father has decided that you must undertake a quest. There is a powerful item, known as the Heart of Winter. It can control the weather, and may have other powers besides. Now that the Titans have escaped Tartarus, they will direct their spawn to find it. Odin and Frigg have a lead on the item...you must all go to the town of Bodie. It's in California, near Vegas. That will set you along the necessary path."
Munin began to speak once more.
"I know, it's a bit bare bones; go to a place, find a thing. But that's the way it works with new heroes. If you have questions, we'll answer them,but to be completely blunt, the quicker you're all on your way, the better."
Those birds are talking.
Well, at least it made sense for who he knew the birds to be. Still, it was more than a little strange...but what wasn't this last month?
"Should we expect trouble there?"
"Ragnarok? Like that movie? Maybe I am a Hemsworth," says Chase. He feels a pang of regret at the mention of parents keeping tabs on them--but it didn't matter, he pushed the thought back down. His mother was here now--well, not literally, but even the thought of her, wherever she was, gave him comfort.
"Heart of Winter, right? Sounds fun," says Chase. He actually kind of likes the sound of it--not a lot of snow in Brisbane, not ever. "Maybe we can stop by Vegas afterwards, yeah? Once we've got the magic artifact and saved any cheerleaders who need rescuing, of course."
Dustin felt a smile quirk at the edges of his mouth.
"Dunno how many cheerleaders we'll find out there, Chase. Once you get near Vegas, it's sort of a bunch of empty desert. Even the more relatively populated areas...let's just say, don't stop in Victorville unless you reeeeeeally want to buy some meth. I'd definitely be up for a victory lap in Sin City afterwards, though!"
Hugin snorted in what may have been amusement.
"Better to not mention those films in front of the other Aesir, young man. Some of them are quite perturbed by the inaccuracies.
As for you, Mister Reinhard...you are children of the Gods sent to hunt down a magical artifact. Whyever would you not expect trouble?"
Chloé's brow furrows momentarily. "Bodie? The ghost town up in northeastern California, past Yosemite?"
Mugin inclines his head towards Chloe.
"Quite correct, Miss Marthaler. It has been abandoned for some time, so if you do encounter any trouble...well, there should be no need for stealth, as it were."
Dustin had no other questions, really. It was all pretty surreal, but he was sort of getting used to it.
He turned to the others, giving Chase an apologetic smile.
"Looks like Zuma will have to wait. If you want, I've had some...uh...friends stay over. They left some clothes that should be your size. Nothing much, but should at least be a hoodie or something.
If you guys have questions, shoot...but I'm ready to go. I really haven't had to sleep much ever since...you know. I can drive. I have a Model X in my garage; it seats seven, so we should all fit, if you guys want. If you need to sleep, you could sleep on the way. Or we can spend the night here, if anyone really prefers. I have space if needed."
Chloé takes an iPhone out of her purse and looks something up, then says, "Bodie is almost four hundred miles from here. I'm not sure a Tesla X has the range, unless we make a layover in..." She enlarges a map on her phone screen, then says, "Bishop, it looks like. Or if you have magic lightning in the battery."
She taps the phone a few more times and then says, "There's no hotels in Bodie. It is a literal ghost town. The nearest ones are in Bridgeport. I can make some reservations, if you like."
She glances about the room and says, "Does anyone have anything they need to fetch for this trip? I, uh, will have to make a few phone calls about my jobs."
"Aww, you can't tell me that they've never watched the Avengers? Like when they all fight Loki, that was amazing," says Chase with an exaggerated frown. "C'mon, you can't tell me that Thor minds having Chris Hemsworth play him, can you?"
"Guess my makeover will have to wait then," he continues with a shrug. "I'm still jetlagged but I can sleep in the car if you all are ready to go. Brodie, then Vegas, right?"
Dustin nodded at Chloe.
"Yeah, I was going to pull up the app to see where I'd need to charge. Wouldn't take long, though."
As the fifth member of this would-be gathering appears, Erika's eyes become huge, her mouth falls open and she surges to her feet. "Oh. My. Oh, wow. Oh. WOW." She doesn't get much coherent than that, her gaze riveted on the woman who just entered, her hand frantically searching in her purse for something, oh wow, she has to get her autograph, this is unbelievable, her icon, her idol... when the surfer kid jumps the line and does exactly that! Erika feels a stab of irrational jealousy, but his puppy-like behaviour returns her to her senses. She is a mature woman and a professional, by damn. She will not act all giggly in front of all these people, I mean, there is a place and a time for fangirling, but this is definitely not it. She retakes her seat with what dignity she can muster, but cannot help her gaze travelling frequently to the red-haired woman, and a faint blush is fairly evident on her Nordic complexion.
____________________________________
At Dustin's mention of her, Erika starts as out of a reverie. "What I do? I'm a prosecutor for the state of California. It's how Ulf and I know each other. He catches the bad people, I put them into prison." Her expression darkens for a moment. "Well, most of them." She does not elaborate further.
Then the sixth person appear and everything becomes even more surreal. Talking ravens. Erika knew that corvids are exceptionally smart, but this was way beyond that. And what they were saying... this was starting to feel like something out of a high fantasy novel. The band of heroes assembles and are given a task, their ultimate goal to save the world. And the others were just rolling with it, cool as you please - well! she could hardly do less. She pulls out her own phone, already assembling a mental list of tasks.
"I only need to hire a cat-sitter for Sibyll, but for the most part I'm good to go. Will probably need to stop somewhere to buy a change of clothes and a travel bag, some toiletries... But I have the essentials on me." She taps her purse where the runestones and credit cards are residing, the bulletproof vest under her shirt and the pistol in its holster at her back.
"Seems like we're about all good to go, then. If you guys want to drive your own cars, you're free to, of course. Might not be a bad idea to bring at least one other; we don't know what we'll run into up there."
"Well, mine is pretty spacious and I am rather attached to it, so if anyone wants to ride along... It's parked down the street."
She taps on her phone some more, searching for a 24/7 store that would sell at least a few of the items she needs - toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, hydrating face cream, towels... She lifts one foot, contemplating her stiletto heels. Definitely a change of clothes and of shoes, she cannot imagine herself running from werewolves in those heels. Some sneakers, jeans, a T-shirt, a hoodie like Dustin mentioned, hair ties - this was turning out quite the shopping list. And of course, they could not forget bottled water, some sandwiches, some... wait a minute.
"Dustin, do you have some bottled water in your house and some pre-packaged food we could take with us? Energy bars, maybe? Oh, and a first-aid kit, I would say. Just in case. I have one in my car, but it's pretty basic."
Dustin grinned.
"All of the above. I've got a few bags of chips and some jerky. Couple of pallets of bottled water I can throw in the back of my car. There's a Ralph's over on Ventura that should still be open; they don't close until 11. I have plenty of bags, either suitcases, garments or gym bags; whatever you need."
Erika grins back.
"Perfect. I'll take you up on a gym bag, easier to carry around than a suitcase. I have a list of things I need to get, anyone else who needs to pick up essentials?"
She looks around at the assembled others. She cannot help but feel excited and a little bit daring.
"And how shall we call ourselves? I mean, there's The Avengers, The Fantastic Four, The Magnificent Seven, SHIELD, X-Men, Global Frequency, Doom Patrol..." she lists, with a wink at Dustin. See, geeks of a feather. "Oh, Doom Patrol, that's quite fitting, actually. Maybe we can expand on that theme."
"While we're at it we should stop by Infinity Ward and see if they want to turn us into a video game," quips Chloé, but just as quickly she reverses herself and says, "Only kidding. Erika - may I call you that? Are we all on a first-name basis now, I suppose? - you're quite right on all counts. There's a Target a bit further west and up Sepulveda, if we want to get something more... suited to wandering around a dusty old ghost town." She gestures at her impractical dress. "Also..." she eyes the ravens, "weapons, perhaps? Not all of us acquired guns or swords or the like."
Dustin grinned. Doom Patrol...he liked that.
"I'm already in video games. Madden is sort of a big franchise, after all! Yeah, the Target" Dustin pronounced it tar-jay "would be good. As far as weapons, there's a Big 5 near here. It won't be military grade, but it should do for a rifle or a shotgun and some knives. I don't think you can buy a pistol right away, but the others are considered sporting goods."
"I think buying a pistol at all might be troublesome," she replies with a wry smile. "Foreign national, remember? I'm still technically Swiss on a green card."
"But," she adds, "I did my own swordfighting - and the glaive, too."
Hugin chimed in.
"Arming yourselves is certainly an excellent idea. I'm sure Mister Johnson has another handgun, though; likely the one he was using before Heimdall gave him his gift. The more you have, the better. If I knew what you were facing, I would give you specifics, but it's certainly a good idea to be prepared."
Dustin chewed his lip, thinking.
"They're probably closed now, but Cold Steel is near here. They'll probably have some stuff you could use. Let me pull up their info and give them a ring."