Log:SinLore, Part 3

SinLore 2020/02/26 Sinmore Arthur Aevus 3

It's nice when you need answers and you have a lead, no matter how tenuous. Sinmore isn't quite sure how she's supposed to help this guy from HeroNet. The fire giantess folds her arms across her chest, leaning against a street lamp as she waits for Arthur to arrive for their meeting. For the moment, her flaming hair is pulled into a streaming ponytail that fountains out into the evening air behind her. Clad in inexplicably giantess sized jeans, boots, and a t-shirt, Sinmore probably stands out from the rest of the crowd.

Arthur arrives a little off schedule because of a detour. He arrives on foot with a strawberry and nutella crepe cone in hand, loading with whipped cream, wrapped in a paper cone to keep it all together. He has a spork to dig into it as he munches and heads for his appointment. . o O (Now, I wonder where...oh. Her? The giant woman who was fighting those icey bikers?)

Sinmore is the only person lingering at the appointed locale. She's absently filing her finger nails with an appropriately large file. Sparks fly every so often as the file rasps across her stony nails. For the moment, Sinmore remains unaware of Arthur's approach. Her green eyes scan absently around her, but she's mostly focused on her nails.

Arthur gulps as he watches her file her nails. o O (Okay, come on, Kat. You're supposed to be Arthur Aevus, time traveler extraordinaire! Don't get intimidated by her.) He takes a breath and spoons some of his crepe treat in his mouth and continues onward. "Ah, Miss Sinmore Hateslake, I presume?"

Sinmore makes a sound like a confused dog. Her head swivels to focus on Arthur with the green flames that are her eyes. Pursing her lips thoughtfully, Sinmore stares at Arthur for several long moments. She hopes that her surprise at seeing Arthur, of all people, is masked by her confusion by his greeting to her.

"I'm, um, Sinmore, yes. Just Sinmore."

Curiously, Sinmore shifts her mass as she stands up. Her body abruptly shrinks down from her full size to stand a more personably sized 7' tall. Offering a hand to Arthur, Sinmore tries not to eyeball his crepe cone. Not for the first time, Sinmore regrets her crazy metahuman metabolism.

Arthur eyes the giantess' hot looking hand and risks it, reaching out to shake it with a gloved one. "Not Hateslake? Perhaps I've made a mistake. I contacted you via HeroNet due to your nom de guerre and it's commonality with something I'm researching."

Certainly Sinmore's entire body seems to radiate a great deal of heat. Her grip is solid, but neither uncomfortably strong nor uncomfortably hot. She tilts her head curiously at Arthur, considering his words seriously.

"Just Sinmore. What're you researching?"

"The Pale Cinder Queen, Sinmore Hateslake," Arthur answers as he releases her hand. "It's such a unique name, I would have thought there was some connection."

"The... Pale Cinder Queen?"

Sinmore looks momentarily confused. She works her mouth around the words a few times in silence, eyes half-closed as she considers it intensely. Her hands absently turn the file over and over as she considers things.

"That... Sounds... Familiar? Like something I heard in a dream?"

"From Muspelheim, I believe. She led a horde from there and caused a great deal of destruction in centuries past. Blessed by the old gods and seeking revenge upon a man who wronged her," Arthur explains, watching Sinmore expectantly.

Sinmore shakes her head a little bit as Arthur explains. The giantess slides the file into a pocket as she regards Arthur seriously.

"I haven't run across any information about an invasion force from Muspelheim... Admittedly, the archaeological record is pretty fuzzy when it comes to supernatural stuff like that."

Quietly, Sinmore rubs her chin with one hand as she mulls this information still more.

Arthur raises a brow. Sinmore knowing about the archaeological record. Ylva saying the Pale Cinder Queen's soul was embedded in Talia Sintergaard's body. That strange presence any time the name is mentioned. He's fairly certain this could be Talia. But if that's the case, what's she playing at? "By the way, I don't think you should say that title anymore."

"Huh?"

Sinmore looks momentarily confused. Shifting her weight, Sinmore peers into Arthur's eyes for a few moments before she inquires, "Why not?"

Arthur hesitates to give away all his tricks. "I think it may invoke a power that you don't want to invite upon yourself."

"Oh," replies Sinmore. She seems to comprehend his meaning even if she doesn't seem to fully grasp the implications. Folding her arms across her chest thoughtfully, Sinmore leans up the lamp post again. "Why are you researching her?"

"Because the name come up in an incident that involving one of the university's students," Arthur explains as he eats some of the crepe filling, then takes a bite of the crepe edge itself. It's a loaded crepe, as opposed to the usual flat, triangle-folded ones. "My priority is to make sure no further harm comes to any students, but there was also a warning that this Sinmore Hateslake would destroy Midgard. Again. I thought it worth at least looking into. Hence," he points to her with his spork, "contacting you. If you're not her, then I thought you might at least be an expert. You took on her namesake, after all. Why is that?"

"Actually I named myself after Sinmara, Surtr's bride," replies Sinmore, "But I tried to differentiate myself a bit."

Sinmore falls silent afterward. Her green eyes dim marginally as she studies Arthur. A puzzled expression crosses her features, fiery brows knitting together as she regards him.

"But I suppose the name just... Felt right? It was a thought that popped into my head. It was a thought that made sense, contextually."

Arthur looks puzzled a moment. "So you tried doing a variation on Sinmara, and came up with Sinmore? I thought it was meant as a more...seductive name, to be honest." He takes a bite off the edge of his crepe cone and swallows. "Mmm. Hm. Do you happy to know if this Sinmara had a quest for revenge in the lore?"

"There's speculation that she may have carried - or protected? - Surtr's sword," replies Sinmore, "Whose name translates into English roughly as "Sword of Revenge" or "Sword of Retribution". It's important for the sword to stay safe so that Surtr can use it during Ragnarok."

Arthur studies her a moment, eyes drifting towards her waist in search of signs of a sword, then looking back up. "And Surtr...did he ever wrong Sinmara?"

"That depends," replies Sinmore as she meets Arthur's gaze.

"On?" Arthur asks expectantly.

"How literally you opt to translate from the original Scandanavian dialects," replies Sinmore. She shrugs a little bit, "I mean, being birthed by a genocidal megalomaniac to be his, ah, lover and bride? That's kinda rough. And off-putting."

Arthur's eyes widen at that. "Okay, yes. So. Again, interesting name inspiration for you. Who was this genocidal megalomaniac?"

Sinmore speaks slowly and enunciates clearly as she repeats, "Surtr. The king of Muspelheim and supreme leader of the Muspel giants."

Arthur's brows now creep upwards. "Oh. So...he created his own bride. I had not realized that."

"Like I said... It depends on how literally you want to translate," replies Sinmore.

Arthur lets out a frustrated little sigh. "Okay. I see nothing is very clear with mythology. Hence...it's mythology."

"Mythology describes singular events, but edited and retold over the course of millennia. And now it includes getting translated from one language into another. Or more."

Sinmore shrugs a little bit as she stares at Arthur thoughtfully. Her eyes brighten a little bit, those emerald flames flickering from time to time as their burning intensity increases.

"Destroying Midgard seems very in character for someone actually from Muspelheim though. I can't imagine how a man from Midgard could possibly have wronged a Muspel giant though. The two generally don't appear together in Scandanavian lore aside from the Ragnarok Saga."