Hello Sunshine

"It really is fine," Corrie assures him. "I mean, I wouldn't have come down here without him, for one thing. That's gotta be worth at least a few boxes of Panda Express."

 

Baldur nods "Okay. Well thank you for taking care of him in the meantime then. If you don't mind I want to talk to my son alone for a bit?" he points to the mouth of the cave.

 

Corrie looks at Eirik and gives a sort of do you mind? shrug. It's up to him, really.

 

"...I... I guess," he mutters, scuffing one foot along the stone floor.

 

Baldur puts his arm around his son's shoulder and leads him towards the mouth of the cave.

 

Corrie watches them for a few moments, but soon figures she should be getting back to her shoot.

She keeps an ear out, though. Probably won't hear much at this distance unless someone starts yelling, but that would certainly be a reason to take notice.

 

They talk quietly for a while before the amplified and synthesized voice of Baldur comes again.

"Grendel. Grendnel." He says voice relatively flat. If Corrie looks back she'll notice he's still siting next to his son, but wearing the mask again. "Grendel. Look up." Comes again from the man.

 

It takes some cajoling, and a few annoyed repeats of "Grendel"...

But a new figure comes into view, slouched, with a wall of thick blonde dreadlocks hiding their features as they make their way across the desert towards the cave's entrance... they're practically swimming in an oversized flannel shirt, which is difficult to do considering their height, but they're skinny enough that it manages.

They scuff bare feet across the cave floor and let out a grumbled. "....here, Eirik. I guess you might as well hand these to your friend now."

 

Eirik blinks, taking a paper wrapped around something, glances between his parents, and bolts back to Corrie. "Coooorrie! Hey!"

 

"Huh?" Corrie's a little distracted, but she reorients fairly quickly. "Oh, is this your... other dad? Dadmom? Hi." She offers a little wave in Grendel's direction.

 

"Uh-huh!" Eirik pushes the paper into her hands. "Look! I think they're tickets!"

 

Corrie.

There's.... very much... something weird.

When you look at the newcomer, there's... there's a bone-deep knowing... that they're old. Ancient.

That... that Eirik's other parent is thousands of years old.

 

It's not as if she didn't believe Eirik when he told her that his parents are a Jotun and a demigod- she probably shouldn't have, but then, she probably shouldn't have a fifth-grader grafted to her soul. And that would probably entail their being... older. But there's a difference between a thing making some sense and that thing being palpably true.

They're like the rock face, and the almost-awe of recognizing how much time and what massive geological forces must have gone into laying down those patterns and then carving them out. Except instead of a mural painted by no human hand, there's a dreadlocked beanpole with questionable fashion sense. Which is almost as impressive, in an odd kind of way.

She opens up the paper, but only pays half-attention to it.

 

Inside is a pair of VIP tickets and a rough, messy note of "the show is at 7" with a signature written in what looks like runes.

It's written on the back of a shopping list that's so messy it's unreadable.

 

Grendel huffs, pushing a few of his dreads out of his face. "So you managed to get here that fast? You visit your grandmother?"

 

Corrie does spare enough attention from the ancient beings in front of her to read the note and identify the accompanying items. "Oh, hey! I've never been a VIP before. Thanks!"

...then she looks back to Eirik, mouthing Grandmother? Is there some kind of goddess in the area? Because that would be incredibly cool.

 

"Gramma Hel," he whispers.

 

Well, I don't know about Eirik, but I think I did, thinks Corrie, and then has to bite her lip to keep her slightly punchy laughter from being too obvious.

 

"...what is it?" Eirik blinks, wide-eyed and curious.

 

"your grandma's a death goddess," Corrie whispers. This probably explains absolutely nothing about why it's funny, but it's the shortest version she can think of.