hildehammer - Tumblr blog

[hildehammer]

YEP. And that's the point of the first tweet, for everyone making fun of the queer person whose words were taken out of context.

Oh wow! I had no idea this is sickening.

[hildehammer]

The touch remains for another half second, then Sigi resolves it with a gentle pat-pat and withdraws her hand. "Yeah. That blows. I wouldn't like that either. You have a right to your feelings, especially when people hurt you."

"Do you want to be his friend?"

Riley isn't bothering to look too closely at where she's going, as long as she can find a hidden place to curl up and cry. So it's not all that surprising that she ends up inside Unbekannt territory. Seighilde investigate familiar wolf-smell?

Riley feels Sieghilde’s presence a few seconds before Unbekannt’s putative alpha arrives: there’s the feeling someone is there, a scattering of gravel falling from a tar-topped roof, and then the soft scuffing of sneakers against brick. 

“Hey, kid,” comes from not far behind Riley, followed by the scrape of a lighter’s strike-wheel. “Y’aright?” 

[hildehammer]

Of note, for those who notice such things, is the smell of Sonja mixed with Sigi. She is wearing the other woman's shirt, after all.

Sieghilde stares at Jair, takes another drag. "Okay?"

If Jair expected Sigi to be ragingly furious, she just... isn't. "So you followed someone as a dog to learn more about them?" She repeats this like she's sure there's something she's missing.

It's mid-afternoon. Bordering on just before rush hour. Sunday. Jair shows up at the funeral home, asking about 'Um.. er.. Sig- sigheild?'. He's dressed as always- car-grease jeans, comfy work boots, a big ol' swimming-in denim vest... and he's rather shamefaced. He keeps his eyes down, away from whoever answers the calling. Defeated.

The guy who answers the door is barely awake: a skinny guy best defined as ‘Eurotrash,’ with unwashed shoulder-length black hair, wearing a grey slub tank top and battered jeans. He doesn’t bother introducing himself, just waves at the couch. 

Sometimes there are crying people here, though the Altman Funeral Home is kind of like Aziraphale’s bookshop: they discourage customers, and live on money that comes from… somewhere. Best not to ask. 

There’s enough similarity between his facial structure and Sigi’s that it would lead a person to think they’re probably related. Wordlessly, the dark-haired guy looks up toward the landing which overlooks the funeral home’s main gathering area, and then walks back into a door which says ‘Employees Only - Office’ and shuts the door. 

All that time, Ludwig never said a word. 

About two minutes later, by the ticking of the grandfather clock at the foot of the stairs, Sieghilde stumbles out of one of the doors along that landing, wearing a t-shirt that’s too small for her and a pair of boxers. Probably, she just grabbed one of Sonja’s shirts and pulled it on: clearly, she was asleep a few minutes ago, and somehow, Ludwig woke her up. Remotely. 

She’s not got a cigarette and she just woke up, her hair half-braided. 

“Hnnngh.”

[hildehammer]

The Blood Talon's jaw sets solid, and she props her elbow against her waist, taking a long drag from her cigarette. Something in her eyes goes very bright, very sharp, very hard.

"I see."

The smoke curls up out of her nose. "Why did you follow her?"

It's mid-afternoon. Bordering on just before rush hour. Sunday. Jair shows up at the funeral home, asking about 'Um.. er.. Sig- sigheild?'. He's dressed as always- car-grease jeans, comfy work boots, a big ol' swimming-in denim vest... and he's rather shamefaced. He keeps his eyes down, away from whoever answers the calling. Defeated.

The guy who answers the door is barely awake: a skinny guy best defined as ‘Eurotrash,’ with unwashed shoulder-length black hair, wearing a grey slub tank top and battered jeans. He doesn’t bother introducing himself, just waves at the couch. 

Sometimes there are crying people here, though the Altman Funeral Home is kind of like Aziraphale’s bookshop: they discourage customers, and live on money that comes from… somewhere. Best not to ask. 

There’s enough similarity between his facial structure and Sigi’s that it would lead a person to think they’re probably related. Wordlessly, the dark-haired guy looks up toward the landing which overlooks the funeral home’s main gathering area, and then walks back into a door which says ‘Employees Only - Office’ and shuts the door. 

All that time, Ludwig never said a word. 

About two minutes later, by the ticking of the grandfather clock at the foot of the stairs, Sieghilde stumbles out of one of the doors along that landing, wearing a t-shirt that’s too small for her and a pair of boxers. Probably, she just grabbed one of Sonja’s shirts and pulled it on: clearly, she was asleep a few minutes ago, and somehow, Ludwig woke her up. Remotely. 

She’s not got a cigarette and she just woke up, her hair half-braided. 

“Hnnngh.”

[hildehammer]

The shirt is definitely too small, stretched across Sigi's lean muscles, with some sort of writing in Serbian.

The boxer briefs are rainbow and come to Sigi's knees. Someone's discovered TomboyX.

One step, then another, until Sigi's right in front of Jair. Little white squares of cigarette ash flutter down to the floor as she takes another drag.

"Look me in the eye and tell me what you did."

Being thrown off a roof might be easier.

It's mid-afternoon. Bordering on just before rush hour. Sunday. Jair shows up at the funeral home, asking about 'Um.. er.. Sig- sigheild?'. He's dressed as always- car-grease jeans, comfy work boots, a big ol' swimming-in denim vest... and he's rather shamefaced. He keeps his eyes down, away from whoever answers the calling. Defeated.

The guy who answers the door is barely awake: a skinny guy best defined as ‘Eurotrash,’ with unwashed shoulder-length black hair, wearing a grey slub tank top and battered jeans. He doesn’t bother introducing himself, just waves at the couch. 

Sometimes there are crying people here, though the Altman Funeral Home is kind of like Aziraphale’s bookshop: they discourage customers, and live on money that comes from… somewhere. Best not to ask. 

There’s enough similarity between his facial structure and Sigi’s that it would lead a person to think they’re probably related. Wordlessly, the dark-haired guy looks up toward the landing which overlooks the funeral home’s main gathering area, and then walks back into a door which says ‘Employees Only - Office’ and shuts the door. 

All that time, Ludwig never said a word. 

About two minutes later, by the ticking of the grandfather clock at the foot of the stairs, Sieghilde stumbles out of one of the doors along that landing, wearing a t-shirt that’s too small for her and a pair of boxers. Probably, she just grabbed one of Sonja’s shirts and pulled it on: clearly, she was asleep a few minutes ago, and somehow, Ludwig woke her up. Remotely. 

She’s not got a cigarette and she just woke up, her hair half-braided. 

“Hnnngh.”

[hildehammer]

There's the sound of a door opening and closing, twice. Paper rustling. Then footsteps again, barefoot, and a soft thud-thud-thud.

Who takes the stairs when they can vault the railing and kip down the wall?

Not Sigi. Weirdo.

Then the sound of a strike wheel on a lighter, and a deep inhale.

"Talk."

It's mid-afternoon. Bordering on just before rush hour. Sunday. Jair shows up at the funeral home, asking about 'Um.. er.. Sig- sigheild?'. He's dressed as always- car-grease jeans, comfy work boots, a big ol' swimming-in denim vest... and he's rather shamefaced. He keeps his eyes down, away from whoever answers the calling. Defeated.

The guy who answers the door is barely awake: a skinny guy best defined as ‘Eurotrash,’ with unwashed shoulder-length black hair, wearing a grey slub tank top and battered jeans. He doesn’t bother introducing himself, just waves at the couch. 

Sometimes there are crying people here, though the Altman Funeral Home is kind of like Aziraphale’s bookshop: they discourage customers, and live on money that comes from… somewhere. Best not to ask. 

There’s enough similarity between his facial structure and Sigi’s that it would lead a person to think they’re probably related. Wordlessly, the dark-haired guy looks up toward the landing which overlooks the funeral home’s main gathering area, and then walks back into a door which says ‘Employees Only - Office’ and shuts the door. 

All that time, Ludwig never said a word. 

About two minutes later, by the ticking of the grandfather clock at the foot of the stairs, Sieghilde stumbles out of one of the doors along that landing, wearing a t-shirt that’s too small for her and a pair of boxers. Probably, she just grabbed one of Sonja’s shirts and pulled it on: clearly, she was asleep a few minutes ago, and somehow, Ludwig woke her up. Remotely. 

She’s not got a cigarette and she just woke up, her hair half-braided. 

“Hnnngh.”

[hildehammer]

It's mid-afternoon. Bordering on just before rush hour. Sunday. Jair shows up at the funeral home, asking about 'Um.. er.. Sig- sigheild?'. He's dressed as always- car-grease jeans, comfy work boots, a big ol' swimming-in denim vest... and he's rather shamefaced. He keeps his eyes down, away from whoever answers the calling. Defeated.

The guy who answers the door is barely awake: a skinny guy best defined as ‘Eurotrash,’ with unwashed shoulder-length black hair, wearing a grey slub tank top and battered jeans. He doesn’t bother introducing himself, just waves at the couch. 

Sometimes there are crying people here, though the Altman Funeral Home is kind of like Aziraphale’s bookshop: they discourage customers, and live on money that comes from... somewhere. Best not to ask. 

There’s enough similarity between his facial structure and Sigi’s that it would lead a person to think they’re probably related. Wordlessly, the dark-haired guy looks up toward the landing which overlooks the funeral home’s main gathering area, and then walks back into a door which says ‘Employees Only - Office’ and shuts the door. 

All that time, Ludwig never said a word. 

About two minutes later, by the ticking of the grandfather clock at the foot of the stairs, Sieghilde stumbles out of one of the doors along that landing, wearing a t-shirt that’s too small for her and a pair of boxers. Probably, she just grabbed one of Sonja’s shirts and pulled it on: clearly, she was asleep a few minutes ago, and somehow, Ludwig woke her up. Remotely. 

She’s not got a cigarette and she just woke up, her hair half-braided. 

“Hnnngh.”

[hildehammer]

She scratches her nose, considers the younger wolf. “You didn’t, though. And I don’t lie. So if I tell him that you didn’t tell on him and I had to drag it out of you, well, I don’t fucking know.”

Sigi only has so many problem-setting options, after all. 

One hand reaches out and sort of absently pats at Riley’s shoulder, unless she shies away from the touch. “I think that’s probably not true. Some people are totally shit at telling people how they feel, and I think Jair is one of those. The more you get hurt, the harder it is to put down your fists and let someone come in close enough to hurt you.” 

Riley isn't bothering to look too closely at where she's going, as long as she can find a hidden place to curl up and cry. So it's not all that surprising that she ends up inside Unbekannt territory. Seighilde investigate familiar wolf-smell?

Riley feels Sieghilde’s presence a few seconds before Unbekannt’s putative alpha arrives: there’s the feeling someone is there, a scattering of gravel falling from a tar-topped roof, and then the soft scuffing of sneakers against brick. 

“Hey, kid,” comes from not far behind Riley, followed by the scrape of a lighter’s strike-wheel. “Y’aright?” 

[hildehammer]

Sieghilde doesn’t say anything out loud; she digs in the pockets of her battered jeans and pulls out her cigarettes, lighting another one. Something about the way she takes out her cigarettes and shakes one out, the beat-up cheap lighter sliding into her hand as easily as if she’d been born holding it, are all the deliberate gestures of someone who’s very used to calming routines. 

“Oh, that little shit,” Sigi deadpans. 

“I can throw him off a roof, if you’d like.”

Riley isn't bothering to look too closely at where she's going, as long as she can find a hidden place to curl up and cry. So it's not all that surprising that she ends up inside Unbekannt territory. Seighilde investigate familiar wolf-smell?

Riley feels Sieghilde’s presence a few seconds before Unbekannt’s putative alpha arrives: there’s the feeling someone is there, a scattering of gravel falling from a tar-topped roof, and then the soft scuffing of sneakers against brick. 

“Hey, kid,” comes from not far behind Riley, followed by the scrape of a lighter’s strike-wheel. “Y’aright?” 

[hildehammer]

The long silence that follows comes with another one of those penetrating stares. “It is important. We’ve established that. There is no need to make your feelings smaller in order to prevent me from taking some sort of punitive action. Your friendship is between the two of you.”

“If he hurts you, whoever he is, that would be different. But this? This is between the two of you.” Her language has gone strangely formal, but careful all the same. Sigi drops her cigarette, scrubs it out with the ball of her left foot. “If you want to not talk about it, all you have to do is say so.”

“You’re not in trouble.”

Riley isn't bothering to look too closely at where she's going, as long as she can find a hidden place to curl up and cry. So it's not all that surprising that she ends up inside Unbekannt territory. Seighilde investigate familiar wolf-smell?

Riley feels Sieghilde’s presence a few seconds before Unbekannt’s putative alpha arrives: there’s the feeling someone is there, a scattering of gravel falling from a tar-topped roof, and then the soft scuffing of sneakers against brick. 

“Hey, kid,” comes from not far behind Riley, followed by the scrape of a lighter’s strike-wheel. “Y’aright?” 

[hildehammer]

I took the phone over to show @dadhoc & they giggled. 💗

[hildehammer]

Someone else might respond violently, irritatedly, baring their teeth or picking up the challenge. Sigi stops in her tracks, takes a very deliberately long drag of their cigarette, and allows it to billow out if her nose slowly. There's still that low-grade threat that rolls off her, as with any Blood Talon Rahu that's gotten to her age with all her limbs intact, but just the baseline.

"It matters to you," comes her clipped Austrian accented reply.

Riley isn't bothering to look too closely at where she's going, as long as she can find a hidden place to curl up and cry. So it's not all that surprising that she ends up inside Unbekannt territory. Seighilde investigate familiar wolf-smell?

Riley feels Sieghilde’s presence a few seconds before Unbekannt’s putative alpha arrives: there’s the feeling someone is there, a scattering of gravel falling from a tar-topped roof, and then the soft scuffing of sneakers against brick. 

“Hey, kid,” comes from not far behind Riley, followed by the scrape of a lighter’s strike-wheel. “Y’aright?” 

[hildehammer]

Sigi doesn’t interrupt, she doesn’t interject. She just listens. For a Rahu, she has an awful lot of patience, an awful lot of chill, like she saves up all that Full Moon and lets it out in violent bursts. (That’s exactly so.)

At the end, all she asks is, “Who?”

Riley isn't bothering to look too closely at where she's going, as long as she can find a hidden place to curl up and cry. So it's not all that surprising that she ends up inside Unbekannt territory. Seighilde investigate familiar wolf-smell?

Riley feels Sieghilde’s presence a few seconds before Unbekannt’s putative alpha arrives: there’s the feeling someone is there, a scattering of gravel falling from a tar-topped roof, and then the soft scuffing of sneakers against brick. 

“Hey, kid,” comes from not far behind Riley, followed by the scrape of a lighter’s strike-wheel. “Y’aright?” 

[hildehammer]

A frown slides across Sigi’s face. “You know, I lived in a different country from my fiancee for a couple years, because of Reasons.” Sigi’s clearly not gonna get into it now. “And I didn’t speak to my brother for a month once.”

“Shit happens. Especially with tempers like ours.”

One hand pats Riley on the shoulder a little awkwardly, unless she flinches away from the touch. Sigi takes another drag from her cigarette. “What happened?”

Riley isn't bothering to look too closely at where she's going, as long as she can find a hidden place to curl up and cry. So it's not all that surprising that she ends up inside Unbekannt territory. Seighilde investigate familiar wolf-smell?

Riley feels Sieghilde’s presence a few seconds before Unbekannt’s putative alpha arrives: there’s the feeling someone is there, a scattering of gravel falling from a tar-topped roof, and then the soft scuffing of sneakers against brick. 

“Hey, kid,” comes from not far behind Riley, followed by the scrape of a lighter’s strike-wheel. “Y’aright?” 

[hildehammer]

“You look like shit.” 

Well, no one ever accused Sieghilde of being less-than-blunt. 

“If you need me to leave you alone, I will, but, uh. You’re not okay, so don’t tell me you are.” Her accent’s thicker than usual right now, chopping her casual speech up with her heavy Austrian affect. Probably been talking to family overseas again or something.

Riley isn't bothering to look too closely at where she's going, as long as she can find a hidden place to curl up and cry. So it's not all that surprising that she ends up inside Unbekannt territory. Seighilde investigate familiar wolf-smell?

Riley feels Sieghilde’s presence a few seconds before Unbekannt’s putative alpha arrives: there’s the feeling someone is there, a scattering of gravel falling from a tar-topped roof, and then the soft scuffing of sneakers against brick. 

“Hey, kid,” comes from not far behind Riley, followed by the scrape of a lighter’s strike-wheel. “Y’aright?” 

[hildehammer]

The look that comes at Riley out of the corners of Sieghilde’s eyes as she lopes up alongside the younger wolf is just laced with disbelief. If there were any more ‘I don’t believe you’ in Sigi’s green eyes, but rather than saying anything, the Rahu grunts. A long drag of her cigarette, and smoke plumes up around her head. “Hmmm.” 

Riley isn't bothering to look too closely at where she's going, as long as she can find a hidden place to curl up and cry. So it's not all that surprising that she ends up inside Unbekannt territory. Seighilde investigate familiar wolf-smell?

Riley feels Sieghilde’s presence a few seconds before Unbekannt’s putative alpha arrives: there’s the feeling someone is there, a scattering of gravel falling from a tar-topped roof, and then the soft scuffing of sneakers against brick. 

“Hey, kid,” comes from not far behind Riley, followed by the scrape of a lighter’s strike-wheel. “Y’aright?” 

[hildehammer]

Riley isn't bothering to look too closely at where she's going, as long as she can find a hidden place to curl up and cry. So it's not all that surprising that she ends up inside Unbekannt territory. Seighilde investigate familiar wolf-smell?

Riley feels Sieghilde’s presence a few seconds before Unbekannt’s putative alpha arrives: there’s the feeling someone is there, a scattering of gravel falling from a tar-topped roof, and then the soft scuffing of sneakers against brick. 

“Hey, kid,” comes from not far behind Riley, followed by the scrape of a lighter’s strike-wheel. “Y’aright?”