Bearer of Gjallarhorn

ɪ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴄɪᴛɪᴇꜱ ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ

Indie + Selective Heimdall from God of War, commanded by Kreatchur

Back in business baby

The Vanir Goddess sighed, recalling that voice of one of her former step-sons. While she did not get along with any of them thanks to them practically being under Odin's beck and call, she would have preferred any of the others over him.

"Heimdall..." Freya says bitterly, "shouldn't you be keeping your eyes on Asgard or the Bifrost? Or has Odin sent you to keep them on me instead and mock me of my losses?" She crosses her arms, knowing how her ex-husband could be. There was no doubt all of Asgard had found out about Baldur's death at this point.

He knew she was there before he saw her — such is the power of his hearing though his strength lie in his eyes, glowing fierce. He rises to his feet and turns to look the goddess's way, face void of any emotion even if her questions agitate him.

"I can watch them from here," His eyes were powerful things, after all. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were concerned about them." Good thing he did know better. She was just as unhappy to see him as he was her, though he did find it rather odd that she was so... calm about his appearance here. Something wasn't right.

"Quell your emotions; Odin did not send me here." The All-Father was actually unaware of Heimdall's little adventure to this realm — and why was he here, exactly? What could this realm offer him that Asgard did not? Simple; ingredients. While there was plenty to be had in his homeland, there were a few flora and fauna native to this plane and he had developed a taste for them some time ago and had only just now managed to find a space in between his duties to come here and restock on them where no one would notice.

ɪ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴄɪᴛɪᴇꜱ ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ

Indie + Selective Heimdall from God of War, commanded by Kreatchur

ɪ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴄɪᴛɪᴇꜱ ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ

Indie + Selective Heimdall from God of War, commanded by Kreatchur

He doesn't attack however. He remains still as he looks the once prideful God up and down." You're dead. There's no point in killing what's already dead." He says as he seathes his massive sword and crosses his arms." I seen you die. How Kratos broke your neck. Watching thoes pretty eyes fizzle out. Shame. I wanted to kill you all myself. But it seems the god of war did that himself."

As Garm steps into view, Heimdall observes every detail. He had survived the end of realms, yes, but it didn't leave him entirely unscathed. Hel, it seemed like he was thriving from it all. What a vulture - but even vultures had their place in the circle, no? There was no point being upset over something working as intended, especially since Heimdall himself was doing something quite similar.

"Hel was not beyond my understanding." Unexpected, certainly, but not beyond his comprehension. "My brother saw something I did not - do not - and chose to grant me, for lack of a better term, a second chance, so now I am here scavenging for whatever I can find. Go ahead, laugh. My downfall was quite hilarious, wasn't it?" An ego bigger than Asgard itself with pride so thick it blinded him from the truth. His inability to let things go, even when his vision revealed that to be the best course of action brought about his demise - something he had also seen and chose to ignore.