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Noah has been an outcast his entire life. It's hard to say which is worse. Is it being an outcast because you are a sickly, dying thing and people either make fun of you or pity you? Is it being an outcast because you are mostly demon and have done so many terrible things you can never hope to make up for them? It's likely the second that is worse. He's gotten in more than a few fights since he returned to Valhalla. It's mostly been defending himself. He has a temper, but his sense of guilt towards the people in this city... it's astronomical.

As an outcast, he takes his food on a plate, and he sits outside on the steps leading up to the main hall, away from the rest of the people inside who celebrate, who congratulate each other. It's easier this way. No one wants to sit at a table with him, and it's not as though he can blame them. At least as a kid, he just sat at a corner... sometimes with his father, sometimes not. His father is now dead too. He was no warrior, but it was likely the loss of his wife and his... son which did him in. It's quite a lot for a man with such a big heart as his father had to come to grips with.

It's been over a year now since he's been back.

It's another regret. It's another sin to add to the rest.

He takes a goblet full of mead, drinking that back. It clangs awkwardly on the step.

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Elin isn't here all that often, she has a job to do after all, and it isn't really one that allows for much time off. Still, there are days when she needs to go out, when she needs to make lists of who's next. It's always a little morbid if you ask her, and she prefers not to think about that side of things. Far too messy.

Of all the realms to visit though, she's always drawn to Valhalla. It's hardly surprising really, not when her childhood had been full of stories. It always seemed so magical, so unreal. But that was before her life turned into a story of its own.

She tends not to get in the middle of things, keeping to the sidelines and disappearing into the surroundings. Easy when you're dead, of course. A funny knack that people seem to pick up when they're no longer breathing.

It's before he leaves the hall that she spots him, and a few minutes after he leaves that she follows him out. She knows what it's like, not to really fit in, not to have a place. She knows how that feels. And so she walks up towards him, gentle heels clicking on the stone ground before she stops and sits herself down on the step next to him, her lemon coloured sundress pulled up under her knees.

"Worried someone'll nick your drink if you stay in there?"

Noah has stuffed a forkful of food into his mouth, chewing it. He heard someone come out, but he tends to figure they'll come out and then keep on walking. Hopefully someone else doesn't have a bone to pick with him about his past choices, which are ultimately terrible choices, but he's hungry. He just wants to eat without having his face punched for a change. He never puts up too much of a fight when people come out here to be mad at him for... the whole betraying them all bit.

It's the fact that there are heels. It's the sound of the heels clicking toward him before the woman drops down to sit beside him which has him looking up abruptly. He swallows the food and then tilts his head to the side, staring for a moment. Noah doesn't recognize her at all even if there's something almost familiar about her. Her features remind him of his mother's. It's the blond hair and the gentle expression.

Noah smirks at what she says before he shakes his head in answer, lifting his goblet in her direction.

"...you must be new."

"New?!" the statement makes her laugh, a noise that's delicate and soft as she brings her hand up to cover her mouth, clearly tickled pink by his statement.

"No I'm old, I am. About as far away from new as you can get. But I'm not here very often. Just pop in every now and then to see how everyone's getting on."

She lifts her hand and pokes a gentle finger against his arm.

"So go on then. How you getting on then?"

Noah lifts his eyebrows when she simply laughs like that. He's absolutely certain he has never met anyone like her before. She certainly isn't like anyone in that Great Hall, which has the effect of relaxing him somewhat in her presence even if he's curious. There are plenty of very old people, being, agents who come and go.

"So you know people here?"

He taps his fork on top of his plate, glancing her way.

"I'm here. That's something. I just don't exactly have any friends here.... for good reason, but if you don't know those reasons, I would rather not tell you and have you toss this goblet in my face. It's good mead."

"I don't toss good silverware, dear," she tells him, deathly serious as though that's the most important thing here. Really, he needs to understand that. And anyway, she wouldn't want to get mead on her dress, that stuff is terrible to try and get out.

"And I know a few people. One or two. Don't know you though. Not yet anyway. But I might soon hadn't I? So what is it then? You done something awful have you? You don't look like you've done something awful, and trust me, I've seen a lot of people who have, I'm a good judge."

Noah stares at her at that response and how deathly serious she is about the silverware before he laughs. It's a short, surprised thing at first even if it's genuine too.

"I'm Noah. And yes, I'm not exactly in the business of advertising the particular offenses, but everyone in Valhalla knows so you'd only have to ask one of those people walking out now, looking at me like I'm going to set them on fire with a look." They hurry on down the steps, murmuring and keeping their distance. "I've done two decades of awful so I don't know that you are a good judge after all," he says and then lifts up a hand like the grumpy cat that he is, and then his eyes flash that red glow which indicates he's a demon. "No offense meant."

"So you're gonna waste my time then by making me go and ask someone else when you could just tell me yourself then are you?" She seems a little affronted, after all she's made the effort to come and talk to him, hasn't she? Tut tut.

She watches him as his eyes change, but she doesn't seem overly bothered by it, more intrigued than anything, brow raising just gently.

"Noah then, is it?" she asks, lifting her own small hand and offering it out towards him to shake if he might. If he takes it, he'll notice perhaps just how cold her skin is to the touch. She certainly isn't put off by any revelation he might have made.

"I'm Elin, I am. Good to meet you."

Noah lifts his eyebrows at her at that response, smirking slightly even as he sits back until his back hits the wall. He can be kind of an ass sometimes. Even before all this, he'd be the epitome of a grouchy old man or a grumpy cat except when he was really, really little.

Then he was more of a sickly, excitable nerd, and... that usually has the ability to make people run in the other direction than him. Sometimes he uses it when he's trying to avoid talking about just how terrible he really is so he's surprised when she stays in place, looking intrigued and... gentle about it.

He lifts his much larger hand to take her small hand in it, giving it a shake. Noah notices how cold it is, which is why he looks at her curiously in turn. There's no judgement from him after all. His eyes flash red, and he sold his soul to the devil literally.

It's a name he hasn't heard in a very long time, and he's not about to assume they're the same after all. What are the chances of that? "Elin, huh? I had a great, great, great aunt named Elin. Used to be told this story about her all the time..."

"Did you really?" she asks and gives him a curious sort of once over as though she might see something there that she didn't before. She doesn't, of course, there's no hidden meaning in his eyes that suddenly becomes apparent.

Still, she's aware of her own history, aware of where she's from. It's enough to pique her interest.

"What was that then? I mean if you won't tell me about yourself least you can do is tell me about your great aunt don't you think? Only polite really, isn't it?"

Noah tilts his head to the side at the question and the curious look in her eyes, which he hasn't seen before, no. He gives her a careful almost narrowed look then. It's a product of being a demon. He is not as open nor as sociable as she seems to be.

"They told me the story about how she had all these dreams in her head. She fancied a life outside the one given to her. Then she went to Egypt to make that adventurous ideas come true... and she died there."

There's a hesitation then, swallowing. He can remember the words from his parents who he loved very much. His father lived long enough to be ashamed of him.

"I think they meant it as a warning, but... I never took it that way."

She hadn't expected the story to be about herself when she'd first asked, but then as soon as he starts telling it she supposes she should have known. A sad look shadows her eyes, just for a moment. She glances down and takes a deep breath before she lifts her hand and puts a platinum curl back behind her ear.

It's his next statement that brings the smile back to her face, her head lifting and eyes lighting up once again.

"Did you really? Well you know I suppose that makes you a bit daft. Story about a girl dying, and that."

Something dawns on her then, a realisation. It's almost a shock, but a pleasant one at that, and it only makes that smile on her face widen all the more.

"Well I suppose that makes us related then doesn't it. And you know I wish they'd tell that story a bit different! I did more in my life than die you know." Yes, Noah, the Elin in the story would be her.

Noah hadn't expected it either at all. What are the chances? His great, great, great aunt is dead. It means she's dead, and he has never seen her around Valhalla before. She was a legend in Noah's eyes. His mouth parts, and he is still narrow gazed at her as he sees that sad look shadowing in her eyes.

"It does. That's one trait I have. I'm a bit daft. I wanted to go to Egypt too."

He wanted to have his own adventure. He wanted to embrace life especially because he was dying.

His mouth parts when she speaks, and he stares at her like she can't possibly be the Elin that he'd been- that he had admired her, looked up to her. She was the one in the family to do something different. He played pretend when he was tiny, pretending he was going off on her on one of these big adventures like they'd be great friends-

So yeah, he's just... staring now as all that runs through his head.

"...you did. You believed and you dreamed, and you-" She did something.

"Okay close your mouth, dear, you might swallow a fly." She teases, but she smiles, and she reaches over, pressing a finger gently to the base of his chin, closing his mouth.

It's strange to hear herself spoke about like that. She's heard stories of course, but she'd been a cautionary tale. She doesn't make a habit of letting people know who she is, it can be messy, though it gets easier the longer time goes on, the more faded she gets into memory. She never expected someone to know who she is.

"Died?" she asks, finishing his sentence for him, even if she's got an idea that's not what he's getting at. "And Egypt's ever so hot, you know. Nobody told me that! Did they tell you that? And dreaming, you do that do you? What do you believe in, Noah?"

Noah's mouth closes at her prompting, but he still sits there staring at her with rather wide eyes at the moment. This isn't at all what he expected. He had been certain all of his family was dead for quite a long time now.

"No... lived," he says after a moment. She died there, but she also did something. She made something of herself.

There's a pause at the questions, and he shakes his head, amazed he is meeting what was basically his childhood hero. Not that he is quite at a point where he can admit to that.

"I did when I was a kid. It was about all I could do." He was too sick to take much action at all. He was too weak, and then he pauses shaking his head again in surprise. "I don't know what I believe in anymore, but as a child, I thought what you did was amazing... wherever it ultimately led."

Elin isn't the sort to get speechless. In fact she's usually got far too much to say, lasting well into the period of time where she should have long since shut her mouth. If she hasn't changed by now, she doubts she ever will. Strange then, that for once, she finds herself quietened.

She's used to being a warning, for her story being a tale to tell children to keep them in line. It did, of course, and she can understand why. She never expected it to have the opposite effect.

Nobody knows the full story, of course. They think she died and that's that. She did, of course, that much is true, but there's so much more since then. Her life was only a prologue to what came next.

"You're very sweet Noah, you know that? Grumpy, but sweet. So you did that then did you? Went on an adventure? And let me guess, got yourself into a bit of trouble did you?"

Noah makes a face at the very thought that he could be sweet. He doesn't think anyone has ever actually referred to him as being sweet before his life. They haven't even ever called him grumpy though he is quite obviously very grumpy half the time. She has a way of being very direct, but he's still staring at her with a bit of a face at the thought she might find him... sweet.

Ahem.

"No, not exactly. I was always too sickly to do much of... anything, which naturally made me different than every single other person around." They were all refugees of Asgard. They were a strong, hearty people, and Noah wasn't. "I was so sick it was killing me, and I was afraid of dying so I made a terrible deal with a terrible agent to save my life. I think it likely my own warning story might be told right along with yours..."

Never want for anything more, because then you could end up like great, great, great cousin Noah.

"What was wrong with you, then?" she asks, another question that should probably have a little more tact around it but just... doesn't. She should probably stop and think about her way with words, but then she knows if she tempered herself then she'd end up silent. People always did like to talk over her.

"Oh I suppose we could write a book then couldn't we? You and me. All those stories about the things you shouldn't do. A guide to how to live a boring life. At least if you listened to those sort of warnings." The look of distaste on her face seems to speak of how she really isn't about to.

"You know I've never met any family before. Not on purpose that is. Sort of tried to keep away, you know. Might ruin peoples lunch if the dead girl turned up."

Noah looks sideways at her at the question before he shakes his head in answer. That was the question no one could ever answer. His parents would just say that was the way that he was made and to accept it, to accept always being sick and he was tired of it so he made a choice.

"They could add to those books a list of all that the both of us did, which no one else should ever do under any circumstances," he says and then he shakes his head. He is not a fan of a boring life either, but at least a boring life doesn't result in a bunch of other people getting killed or hurt. He doesn't really have the right-

He turns to her now to look at her curiously. "...how did that happen? People do not die and then simply return." Unless there is something else going on.

"There's always something else going on," she says flippantly, throwing her hand in the air a little. It's almost avoidance though, if only because she's probably not supposed to talk about these sort of things. That and the fact if she starts she's not very good at shutting up.

"Well how do you know they don't? Do you go asking every person you meet if they're dead, do you? Because that'd be a bit rude, you know. Especially because some of them might be. Not to many though, doesn't do well when they're all walking around."

Noah lifts his eyebrows at her reaction, tilting his head as he watches her and then shaking it with a tiny smirk.

"Perhaps I will do that now." Now that he knows people who have died can walk around outside of Valhalla where they are clearly spirits of warriors who have moved on to their deserved place in the afterlife. "I am rude."

Sometimes. He can tell she is trying to avoid answering though, and he does not know why but he knows what it is like to need to keep certain things to oneself. And she is his aunt.

She looks around, a little like she's expecting someone to be watching, or like she might get a telling off. There's nobody there though. It's fine. She's sure it's fine. Probably.

"Well I'm sort of having a day off," she starts to explain. "Got a job, you see. And I'm very good at it too actually. But everyone needs a day off you know! Or at least that's what I keep telling my boss and I think he just gives in in the end." That or he's glad of the break. Probably a little of both.

"And I like the flowers here. There's no flowers where I live. Nothing living at all, actually."

She explains, but Noah is still not completely certain that he understands. He can tell she's nervous about explaining the details of it though. If she got a job after she was dead, it must be with someone that has power over those realms, right? Or approved by them. They don't just... let people go.

"...so you live in the underworld and have a job there too. Wow. Do you... like it?"

It's probably better than just... being dead, and she does get to leave which is nice.

"Well the decor is a little dark for my tastes, and it's a bit depressing, all those dead people. They aren't very cheery. You'd think one of them could get a smile on their face! Dying isn't that bad, you know! People have a bit of trouble believing that one though."

She has a habit of trying to see the best from any situation, even when there's really no light at the end of a tunnel. How else could she possibly go on though? And you'll never find happiness if you don't try and look for it.

Noah smirks lightly as she explains and then he nods, tilting his head lightly to the side. "Well, of all the things in the world, there are far worse results than dying." He has learned that now which is ironic since not-wanting-to-die is the big reason why he made his deal with Attar to start with.

"Still I doubt people would be cheerful about it. You're just... different."

He means that as a compliment.

She seems, thankfully, to pick up on that he means it well, and a slow smile spreads over her face.

"Well it's much better than being normal. Now who'd want that?"

Shifting a little, she moves her arm and hooks hers around his own, linking them together. Whether he's much for closeness or not, she doesn't seem overly concerned. She's decided; this is what they do now.

"So go on then. I've told you mine. You tell me yours. What's with the eyes then? What's all that about?"

"Most people," Noah says, but there is a little smirk as he meets her gaze.

They're quite clearly not most people which is probably why they never fit in. It took them both down terrible paths in the end, but he doesn't know that he can regret it. He is no longer sick. He is no longer feeling that very same weakness he had felt growing up, all his life.

The hooking her arm with his own makes him pause, glancing down at their arms like that and then back up at her face. There's something quizzical there in his expression. Closeness isn't something he has had with anyone in... a very long time, not one that comes from a genuine place. The question has him pausing too though the answer finally comes. Everyone else knows as it is. It's no big secret.

"The terrible Agent I made a deal with was Attar, and it made me a demon."

One of Attar's demons, tied to him.

"Oh well I don't like him," her voice is clear and decisive as she screws up her face in gentle protest.

"He's not very nice. And he's sneaky. I don't like sneaky."

It's much more than simply that of course, and his admission paints a much more vivid picture than the one she's commenting on. It's almost like she might have an air of tact. Don't go telling people, she has a reputation to uphold after all.

"Well it'd be silly for me to tell you that was a bad idea because I'm sure you know that already don't you." A statement more than a question. She can see from the heaviness in his eyes that it weighs upon him, and that's just as telling as anything else.

Noah smirks lightly at her reaction.

"Yeah, I do not like him either."

It's putting it lightly. Noah signed up for it, of course, but he didn't really know what he was signing up for until it was too late. How much time would he have given Attar in the end if he had not found a way out? It makes him sick to think about.

"I... more than know. After two decades, I found a way to be free from him and... I did it." It had its costs and risks. Anything in these realms worth anything, they are not done or given freely. "So now I have returned to Valhalla, trying to make up for all I have done. Freyja wants me here to... keep an eye on me."

He won't be leaving this realm anytime soon.

The surprise on her face seems clear, eyes wide, mouth apart.

"Shut up you did!" she says, giving him a gentle shove. "You're winding me up, you are! There's no way someone could do that. I mean not from him. You're having me on, aren't you? You making fun of me?"

She doesn't really think he seems the sort to, and yet what he's telling her, well that doesn't seem possible.

Elin is right. Noah is far too direct to be the sort to make fun like that or to tell a joke in that way. It is clear to him she understands just how difficult it would be to escape Attar, to escape any agent by her reaction.

He does smirk lightly at the gentle shove because she is unlike anyone else he has ever met, and he really likes that about her.

"I am not. I found the Sea Witch in Byblos. Have you heard of her?"

The mention of a witch has Elin wrinkling her nose a little. She glances down a second before back to Noah, and when she speaks it's in more of a whisper.

"I'm not really supposed to talk to witches," her boss doesn't really like it. It's fair enough, she supposes, they can be ever so messy, after all.

"But I've heard of her. Did some mojo on you, did she?"

Noah tilts his head to the side curiously before he smirks because he can see why any agent would feel that way about witches. They are powerful. They are powerful enough to break that hold in some cases.

"...it's complicated. I made a deal with her, and I went through a trial."

The trial had a high probability of killing him especially since he had no anchors, but he survived somehow.

"I survived. Now I'm half a demon instead of a whole one."

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