Undead Biker and a Steak Dinner

May 30, 2016:

There's more necromancy in the air. Bogatyr is called to lend a hand and two deities appear to help clean up

New York

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

Nobody knew who the fuck he was before it had happened, he was just another prospect trying to earn his rocker. A man caught in a society he wanted no part of, but was otherwise unable to escape. So he fell in with the Bandidos MC, and thats where fate made him. To call the mass of scar tissue and plastic bolted onto the side of his head ugly, is putting it lightly. He's something out of a horror movie, the kind of man who should have been a viking. He'd been denied his proper place by a few hundred years, because even when they shot him full of holes and jammed a meat hook through his eyesocket? Even when they hoisted him into the air, he broke part of his own fucking skull away to get after them before he passed out. These days people knew him if only by reputation, Billy "The Hook". Chapterhead of the most dangerous MC gang on the east coast, a man who'd been denied his death in battle.
Patchers and 1 percent types then, are pretty far from Bog's typical circle of associates but there he is. Standing beside the hook himself, hands tucked in his jacket pockets as the pair chat casually on a darkened corner outside a rowdy bar lined with choppers and a single solitary bike that doesn't quite belong. Theres a veritable mob standing respectfully off to one side, and it's a curious sight really. The Hook stands almost as tall as Bog, and arguably as broadly built but there they stand. Watching a darkened alley across the street, the pair exchange a quiet nod because shaking hands is taking it a little too far…and off Bog goes. Withdrawing a short cut down length of ash that might have once been a baseball bat as he crosses the street, leaving his pistol and his badge hidden beneath that heavy motorcycle jacket.
Unlikely allies sure, but there is one thing your typical outlaw hates just as much as our favorite almost-a-god. The Undead, in this case a fucking reanimated corpse no less. A bear of a man in bright "Wizard's MC" colors looming in the darkness with a length of chain wrapped tightly around his fist, it'd be easy to miss it really. Take him for a really ugly, pale looking biker with a beef. Presuming you didn't notice the hole in his chest where a heart should be. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to rise from the dead and make a menace of yourself, you worthless piece of shit." And so, the fight is on it looks like.


The opening of the Way might almost be missed in the commotion but there Fenris is, arriving for much the same reason the bikers and Bogatyr are here. Necromancy. While Fenris knows that it's not an art that has to be evil the fact is that most practitioners of it are as black as they come. Plus the Old Wolf objects to them on general principle. He's actually quite pleased to see someone dealing with the problem when he arrives but he's not going to wait for them to sort it all out on their own.

"Mind the souls, would you?" Fenris murmurs to his blonde companion and then charges, shifting into the form of a pickup truck sized wolf mid stride.


Stepping out from The Way, right beside the God-Wolf, his blonde companion casts the man a thin smile. A smile that does nothing to lessen the stern mien she carries. Grey eyes sweep the action as she removes the silver stranded torc from her throat, letting it transform into a spear.

"It will be my pleasure, Fenris…" she tells the wolf as her giant, grey/black wings appear.


"You two again, goodness we always meet in the nicest of places."Bog offers a little wave before turning his attentions to the Undead brawler as the two come to blows. For an undead hulk, he's surprisingly swift. He's just not quite fast enough, Bog swings that bat upwards to deliver a -CRACK- of wood shattering bone. Another punch starts, a swift -CRACK- across the poor zombie's face is enough to send him sprawling to the ground with a low moan. "Either of you two want to take care of this? I was trying to have dinner here, and you know how much of a pain it is to dismiss armor right?"Bog seems, well hardly that bothered as he steps foreward to grind a motocross boot across the zombie's throat.


"I think Astryd can disrupt the working… give her a minute." Fenris isn't sure and if she can't he can but he's got his hands… paws full at the moment. Claw, snap, crunch. If the bikers are taking this in stride they're better men than many. Seeing the Old Wolf take on something close to his primal form has frightened more than one hardened warrior beyond reason.


Astryd can disrupt the working, but the others are going to have to hold out whilst her magic takes. As her wings unfurl to their full span, the Goddess calls on her inate talent, calling the spirit of the fallen to her. It might be a little unfortunate, but this one might not make the halls of Valhalla or … their own version of that.

Bog can likely feel it, the moment the soul begins to answer her call …


It's a simple work, and a sloppy one. Nothing terribly difficult for Astryd to work her magic on, Total amatuer hour this one. Now with a broken arm, his other pinned, and otherwise held down? Well it's kind of a non event as far as these types of things go. The bikers, wisely for the most part head right back into their bar. Not that the Hook seems terribly bothered by any of this, but then again men who've been that close are often not really afraid of a whole lot afterward.
"You know, I'm starting to suspect there is a school for necromancy in New York."Bog offers with a grumble, beating back a reaching hand with that club. "I'm not much of a city boy, but it seems like we're running into an awful lot of this kind of thing lately you know? I pale to think of what's probably hiding in the sewers, and you know what? Defender of the realm or not, I have my limits."


"The Deadzone kind of put Necromancy on the map…" Fenris rumbles. Quite literally. He'd dealt extensively with that after his captivity for which reason a large wolf is not unknown to SHIELD though the nature of his being might be. "But you could well be right. Power means a lot to a lot of people, particularly people who don't have much to start with. Sewers… tend to be a good place to start. Lot of state parks where things can get strange as well." Both the Gods work in State parks, one as a game warden and the other as a park ranger.


"Midgardians have always had a morbid fascination for the dead." Astryd murmurs, wings rustling in slight irritation before settling behind her, the bottom nearly draping on the ground. "You should try the grave yards around All Hallows Eve." not Halloween, but the pagan festival "But be thankful this isn't New Orleans… I spent some time there a few decades back."


"Yeah I went down there when I got off active duty a few years back, that whole region just sucks. I mean everything smells like fresh rot, it's all sticky and humid and it's inhabited by the most annoying race of men on the earth. They act like crayfish is so great, like seriously thats what you've got going for you? I pulled into a gas station and before I left I had somone try to sell me heroin and a Lorcin .25 automatic."Bog just shakes his head "Give me the cold prarie, the plains and mountains, the timber stands and tundra any day. Clear sight lines, clean air and nobody to call the police if you want to go get the mail in the nude just because you can."because these are the central issues to Bogatyr, naked mail gathering.


Fenris snorts and shifts back into mortal form. Astryd looks like she has this in hand. The notion of Bogatyr gathering mail naked isn't any stranger than some he's heard, but it's a damn sight funnier. "So how is it you wound up doing battle with these fine folk?"


Astryd quirks an eyebrow at the thought of … ahem. Nope, she's not going there. The only responses she could give to that … would be wrong. Glancing at her companion as he shifts back, she smiles faintly and her wings furl until they disappear - like they were never there.

In a blink of an eye her spear transforms back into that silver stranded torc that she fits around her neck as she listens. "Shall I try and see who 'called' this one?" After all, she has an affinity with the power of dead.


Bogatyr frowns "Just finish this, and we'll see if the kitchen is still open. We will be owed a dinner shortly I believe."Bog finally eases back, before glancing over his shoulder. "Oh the Bandidos, I've run into them in uniform and not. They were rather taken with a badge who asked them politely, and treated them like gentlemen. Few years back they vanquished their rivals, the Wizards who's name was not entirely without some merit. This one is one of theirs, which is why I'm fairly confident as to where it came from if not who taught him."Bog gives a shrug finally, shoulders finally slumping. "They are no different from the raiders of old really, you just need to know how to handle them and they're easy enough. Besides, I'm not DEA so it's not my job."


Fenris adds a bit of his own power to the working Astryd is doing to break the spell. Just a bit of extra power. Once that's over he relaxes and looks over the Bandidos. Interesting lot. That someone would teach a biker necromancy is even more so but talent tends to be where you find it. "Interesting. Gentlemen." He'll presume that introductions aren't necessary at this point though it's possible Astyryd may get called Brunhyld.


"It is done." The Valkyrie looks to Fenris, she knows what he did. "An interesting story, Sir Bogatyr." Her grey eyes flick to the bikers and back again. "Should you have need, I will aid you as I can." The mention of food though, receives a welcoming nod.

Getting called Brunhyld is better than some things she's been called. She'll live.


"They're harmless as long as you don't start something."Bog leads back across the road casually, offering over that Cudgel with a little lift of the chin. "Hook, this is Fenris and Astryd. That trade for dinner extend to three of us?"Hook just, nods a touch and turns to head back inside. Inside it's smokey, fairly loud and well not exactly family friendly. There are strippers over there, what looks like a drug deal over just to the left and well it just keeps going. Through the crowd though, down some stairs and well it's like a VIP lounge. Filled with a higher class of biker, marginally. Beside the fact that there appear to be automatic weapons everywhere, it looks like a good and proper dive bar. Theres a pleasantly clean table at least, and after a moment a prospect comes to slip over the beer and assurances that Steaks are soon to come. "Not my kind of joint, but free is awfully convincing."


"So long as the food is good you'll not hear me complain." Fenris isn't a straight laced type of guy owing to the fact that he's not human, that he learned how to be human from Vikings and the fact that human social mores change so quickly from his point of view that it's hard to keep up. The Old Wolf takes a seat and looks about. Well armed hall… he's used to that too. "What do they serve here?" Not that it matters that much.


"It's not mine either, but eaten in worse." Astryd surveys the 'VIP Lounge' and takes a pull on the beer settled in front of her. "The places I had to eat when I first stranded here." she shakes her head. She had to break a number of heads before warriors learned to leave her alone. "You learn to adapt."


"Marijuana, Crystal meth, Beer and whatever else a patch asks a prospect for generally."And well, it's a lovely grilled steak, baked potato and beans. Not bad, not exactly five star but it's far from bad. "Better class of biker than the typical BMW rider, so I'm hardly complaining of course. Anyway the deal was, I take care of the zombie and I get a steak. Hook's quite a charitable fellow really though."


"Apparently. Your name seems to get around if he knew to ask you. Or did you find him?" Fenris gathers that he and Hook had a history but he's not clear if Hook knew the… deeper truth to Bogatyr. "Speaking of how's you and yours?"

This place could almost be a cult dedicated to a strange kind of freedom. The kind that comes with having power and recognizing no authority to bind you. But then men are often like this, searching for things to devote themselves to. The lucky ones don't wind up with something that eats their soul, figuratively or literally.


Astryd shudders at the mention of the drugs and watches the liquid in her glass for a moment. Many a fine warrior had been bought low by such vices and it was beyond her and her sisters power to lead them onward when their came. As the meal is served, she nods her appreciation for the service. "That seems like more than a fair deal to me …" Fenris has already asked a question, and there's a meal waiting. Don't get between Astryd and her food.


"He knows people who I know, they put us in contact."is all Bog has to say about that. "Oh well enough I suppose, numbers are holding steady which is good. Still working on securing the money to open up a school, the only one near the ranch is a christian one and well that poses some certain ethical complications of course. They bought me a new gun, which was considerate of them but really I'd just rather they kept their money at home. Such is life though, yes?"


"You are rather their deity. I suppose they'd feel odd to not give you an offering every now and then." Fenris himself doesn't really know what that's like. People don't worship him, they fear him or murmur his name as an oath. He glances over to Astryd. Maybe she has insight on that. Valkyries aren't really worshiped either but they are invoked to give warriors speedy passage off to a better place as it were.


"A gift from your followers, particularly when times are hard, is a gift indeed." Astryd shakes her head at Fenris' unspoken question. It is a Valkyries sacred duty to escort the fallen and all it took was the prayer or the plea to call them. "There is, in this world, a group that believe in the Law of Attraction. By giving, you are opening yourself up to receive something greater. Perhaps your followers believe that in so honouring you, they too will be honoured. You never know, stranger things have been known to happen."


"I don't want gifts, they have better uses for their money than to bribe a god who already toils for their benefit. Unfortunately, I can not refuse a gift so."Bog shrugs a little, making short work of that steak. "There are schools to build, houses to repair, vehicles in need of replacement, medical bills, feed stock and it just keeps going. I already have their worship, what I want is for them to prosper and grow."He waves a fork about. "I missed the exploration of Africa, the Settling of America, The expeditions into the Amazon. I missed all those frontiers, chances to secure a homestead for my people. I missed every single one of them, all I want now? To return in time to colonize wherever comes after, the Moon maybe mars? Who knows, but my people deserve the opportunity to be free of government and taxes and all the rest. To exist and survive and grow hardy, self reliant oncemore. America, well this is home now but we're on a razor's edge."


"I'd offer to make a donation but I think that'd rather defeat the point." Fenris isn't exactly hurting for money. Benefits of being as old as he is. He doesn't use near as much of it as he has, really.

"Perhaps yours will be the first to venture into the void, then? My kind have often talked about it, what strange creatures must call it home, what strange gods they may have. If the world doesn't end before that time, that is." The Ragnarok Cycle that he's referring to has a habit of resetting things. Astryd will know the stories if she hasn't been around for previous cycles. He has.


"There is an art to receiving a gift." Astryd chides Bogatyr in a good natured way. "Perhaps in accepting it, you are encouraging them to prosper and grow." She'll leave it at that - there's steak to attend to. She won't offer a donation either., she's not as well off as Fenris, but she's tended her finances well in the three hundred years she's been here.

"From what I'm seeing in the media, we might well be getting a preview of those answers. But still, I wish you well in that endeavour, Bogatyr. Perhaps you will be here when those things come to pass."

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