Welcome to Gaia! ::

Herryk had been leaning against the windowsill, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. He had a thoughtful expression on his face, one that grew in intensity as he caught sight of the tall fellow who was making his way into the house. Herryk, not expecting the male to peer into the den, had thankfully missed the dramatic whipping of hair when he turned to peer out the window once more. This was a good thing because Herryk might have been tempted to burst into laughter. Whip it real good.

When the large bloke broke the silence, Herryk swung his gaze around and took in the sight of the blonde male. Dark brows rose as he peered at the fellow.

"Herryk," he said, straightening to his full height. "Freya's boilfriend."

The last bit was said with such immense pride that it fairly dripped from his words.

Herryk wasn't sure what had caused the reaction that the stranger had. An easy smile stole across Herryk's lips as he extended his own hand in a handshake. It was nice to meet another friendly face, and Herryk was halfway finished shaking the man's hand when Thor introduced himself as such.

That smile froze on the draugr's face. An icy chill crept down Herryk's back. He fought the urge to launch a fist straight into the smug b*****d's face, but he couldn't fight the bone-crunching pressure that Herryk put into the handshake. It was enough to send a smaller man weeping, but Herryk doubted that would be the case with Thor.

"Boilfriend," Herryk repeated, a grimacing smile twisting his mouth. "And yes, the ladies are upstairs." He broke the handshake, wiping his hand on his pants before shoving his hands back into his pockets. Only then did he allow himself to form massive fists. He had to physically fight the urge to tower over the male -- now was not the time for that. It didn't matter, Freya was Herryk's. He had to repeat the words over and over again to soothe his temper.

“You’d better, or else.” Hel murmured, her tongue sticking out a bit in concentration as she finished off the rest of three braids. “Ah…for the first half, yes…but after my part, I will be able to take a seat.” She was still worried about who would keep an eye on Mot while she was preoccupied though. Hel bit her lip, fretting, until she let out a soft snort. “Bored eh? Here I was hoping you’d miss me.” She teased as she then started to pull the braids and some of his hair back, pulling it to form a half bun with the ends sticking out, much like she had done once when he sat in her room for a bit. “Uh oh…” Hel didn’t have any spare ties…wait! She held onto the half bun securely with one hand, and reached back for her braid, pulling out her orange hair tie. “Got it!” She looped it in, and then nit picked, spacing out some of the braids before clapping her hands excitedly.

“I think it looks really good with braids!” The ghoul was rather proud of herself as she brushed her fingers over the loose ends, and then pointed at a mirror nearby. “Tell me what you think!”

"-DARE YEHS TO PUTS ANOTHER ******** FLOWER IN MY-"

Freya stormed out of the bedroom, trying to rip the shower of blossoms that Fulla had braided into her hair to make up for last night, and slammed into something hard, and cold. It stopped her tirade, and she winced as she fell back a step, rubbing her nose. Her mouth opened to rain down curses on whoever, or whatever, she'd hit, but she could see her own reflection in it, and it only took another second to look up, and up, and up at that smug, perfectly chiseled face.

Her skin turned white as a sheet. Every door in the hallway was closed, as women yelled at one another from within, but she still backed up to try and escape. He made no move to follow, just watched her with that look on his face.

Finally, after the shock and terror had abated, Freya's face pinched in hatred and she pointed at one of the doors. She didn't waste her breath trying to explain to him that that was the room Sif was in, because he didn't deserve it. But the anger was what Thor was waiting for, and he finally moved forward. Very slow and careful steps looked like they were simply heading for the door, but he ignored it once he went past, and Freya's arm dropped.

"What the ******** do yeh wants." Freya spat out at him in a hiss, backing up against the door when he moved too close for comfort.

Thor's eyes were roaming. There was her hair, mussed but all prettied up with flowers and braids. And her eyes, little crystal balls of hate that flared at him brightly. And that sweet, sweet little mouth..

Freya's eyes narrowed when he spent too long looking, and she lifted her arms to try and push him out of the way. He took that as a good time to speak. "They dressed you up all pretty for my wedding, didn't they pretty doll?" His smile almost looked genuine, passive, harmless. She knew better.

"I says, what do yeh wants." Her whispered hiss had more force to it this time, but Thor just shrugged.

"I'm getting married in an hour." He spoke out airily. His hand was reaching out, just beside her hip, resting against the door - no, against the doorknob. "And I've missed you so very much."

The door swung open, and Freya's eyes widened as she fell inside. Thor stepped inside, and closed the door behind him. "Let's catch up."

"So, how have you been?"

Freya had crab crawled backward, crouched and stood, immediately bringing her fists up to fight her way out of this room if need be. Thor did not seem to be in the fighting mood, unfortunately, as it was his wedding day. He leaned back on the door, crossed his arms in front of him, and smiled.

"I'll kills yeh. Yeh knows that, don'tchyeh?"

He pushed himself off the door and rose a finger stoically. "You know something, I believe that." A chuckle, and he shrugged. "But then you'll get blood all over your pretty dress, and your little pet downstairs will never get to see.." A step closer, and he tilted his head as he took her in. "Just how beautiful you are."

"Unbelievable." Freya dropped her fists and threw her hands up in dismay. "Yehr marrying my gods be damned SISTER in an hour, and yehr hittings on me? Do yeh has NO class, yeh sack of s**t? What is she goings to think when I tell her about this?"

Thor's laughter was loud, boisterous, and warm - and it cut right through to Freya's heart with it's memory. She cringed at the feeling. "Who are you kidding? Not only would she call you a liar, little doll, but she wouldn't even care. She's Sif. Have you met Sif?" He took another step closer while he spoke, hands moving in idle conversation to keep her distracted. "All she cares about is how this looks, and what she gets out of it. I could kiss you right now, and she'd still marry me." A step closer, and Freya suddenly realized she'd let her guard down - and he was right on top of her. "Speaking of which.."

Alarms blared in Freya's mind, and even though there was no more room between them, her fists came up again. Thor frowned, lifting his hands to engulf her fists in them. "Freya." He whispered. "Stop being so violent. I missed you. Is that so wrong?"

"Of course it's wrong. Now back offs me, and go get married." He was uncomfortably close, and she couldn't back up into the wall any further. He bent in and gave her a little pout.

She remembered that pout.

She had loved that pout.

She wanted to slap that pout.

"Didn't you miss me? Just a teeny, tiny bit?" He murmured, his pout making him sound childish and exaggeratingly cute. She wanted to laugh in his face, but laughter required breathing, and she had no more air for it. "You know, once I marry Sif, it's over. That's it. No more chances, Freya."

Freya's lips curled up in confusion and disgust. "Chances for what?"

Thor looked genuinely hurt. "For us, of course." He curled a stray lock of hair around his finger. "You know I'm only doing this because I can't have you. Unless.. you'd like to show me I can? I've got an hour to kill."

Freya did not need fists to prove to Thor just how much she needed him - to get the hell away from her. Her knee connected with the only part of his body not covered by armor, and the yelp that came out of him was distinctly un-godlike. As he bent over, she gave him a swift kick to the side; unfortunately, that one hurt her more than it hurt him, as her shin connected with metal.

She'd have a bruise later, she was sure of it.

"I hope I just mades yeh sterile, Thor." Freya spat out as she stormed away from him and walked out the door. "I may hates my sister, but I still loves her enough to hope yeh never breeds."

Herryk didn't have far to go.

As soon as he'd reached the top of the stairs, Freya collided with him, letting out a string of curses as she slammed into someone for the second time that morning. Her nose was going to be broken before this day was over! She rubbed it again, her head flicking up to look at the most beautiful sight in the world.

"Oh, Herryk," She whimpered, jumping up into his arms. Her makeup, her dress, even the mess of flowers in her hair didn't matter, as long as she could hug him and forget all about the slimy presence she'd had to-

".. Are you wearing a shirt?" She pulled away, tilted her head almost the entire way, and stared at the black and white in front of her.

Freya buried herself in his arms, her hands tugging playfully on the shirt. She was steadily ignoring any mention of Thor, as if her mind was pushing it out or locking it away. Her subconscious simply refused to let her deal with his existence.

"Freya is just fine." She murmured, smiling up at him. "In fact, Freya is better than fine. Freya is wonderful." Her arms squeezed around his middle, before letting him go and taking a step back.

"Well?" She asked, twirling around in the cream dress her sister had picked out for her. "I'm surprised, yeh knows. I thought Sif woulds have surely puts me in some horrible mess. This.. this is kind of borings."