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Boston was both amazing and a bit gross, Blitz though. Well, most places were a bit gross on Midgard, it was like their trademark views. Not that Blitz did a lot of touring around the nine worlds; he didn’t at all.
That said, he really liked the city with its bright billboards and modest cafes, it was a place to live if ever there was one. Hearth seemed fond of the place anyhow – something about magic energy. Seeing the elf’s eyes light up as he looked from thing to thing was almost enough to make the whole debacle worth it - almost.
Hearth took a sudden left down a dark alley way and Blitz was about the call after him when he remember that (duh) he was deaf. Even though Hearth complained about his ‘imperfection’ it seemed to help the guy avoid doing what others told him to do.
A crash echoed down the empty black before them, behind them a lamp flickered and then died.
“Lovely,” Blitz muttered to himself, straightening his tattered jacket. Yes, he was wearing something from a donation box, sue him. No seriously do; it might get him out of his atrocious attire and into something much more dashing and less scratchy. The costume was Hearths idea to have a dramatic make-under (well it certainly wasn’t a make-up). After all, the boy might find it suspicious if he came across then dressed in fine fabric yet claiming to be homeless.
The boy being their latest task, it seemed easy enough at first, they always seem easy. But alas it might be impossible as apparently the boy was wished dead by half of the most powerful people in the worlds. Great.
The boss had simply said that they needed to find him and keep him alive to until he can ‘fulfil his heroic destiny’ which sounded very ominous in Blitz’s opinion. With those wise words the boss spat in Hearth’s face – which wasn’t funny at all – and left his workers (cough slaves cough) to unravel his riddle and track down a very specific boy amongst a whole population of other boys.
Hearth threw a hand out to halt Blitz in his tracks as they wondered down the alley way – a perfect murder site.
Boy, he signed once he was sure the Blitz wasn’t going to keep walking. Hearth should have more faith in him; even he wasn’t blind enough to miss the blond hair miscreant digging around in a bin. It would have been stupid to hope that the first boy they’d come across would be the one they needed to find but apparently fate was on their side (about time).
Blitz racked his brain for the small amount of information he could remember being told about the kid. Something about his mum, oh yeah; she was dead. Blitz felt a twang of pity for the kid that he couldn’t really figure out. He wasn’t very close with his mum but he understood what it was like to lose a parent. Oh, and the kid was a demigod. That was it, all they knew about the person they were supposed to watch until he was old enough. How old was old enough anyway? Couldn’t be that long, could it?
A ‘got ya’ came from the bin as the kid popped his head up holding something in his hand. Blitz though it said something like ‘fala’ something on the bad but he couldn’t be too sure, not with the light flickering like a sequin shirt.
The kid, still oblivious to their presence, leapt out of the bin and pulled a backpack out of an alcove in the wall and shoved the back in. His golden, shaggy hair tumbled into his eyes as he looked down and the boy absently pushed it out of his eyes and tucked it behind his ear. Blitz turned to Hearth slight but didn’t take his eyes off the kid and signed - that him?
Hearth shrugged hesitantly, his eyes wide. The boy tapped his fingers against the strap of his worn bag before standing and chucking the bag over one shoulder. Well, Blitz thought, now or never.
“Hey kid,” he greeted as softly as he could, not that it really help as the kid jumped away from him as if Blitz had declared he wanted the kids head, which would be a counterproductive thing to do as he needed to, you know, keep the kid alive at all costs.
The kid turned to them with startling grey eyes and an animal like snarl before shoving his other hand in his bag’s strap and legging it down the rest of the alley towards the busy streets. Actually, it was almost midnight so they wouldn’t be too busy, hopefully.
Smooth, Hearthstone signed from his spot leaning on a wall opposite the dumpster the kid had been searching in. Blitz scowled at him before running after the kid. He wasn’t very fast but neither was the boy, what was his name again? It had been something fancy that began with an ‘M’, Matthew? Marcus? Eh, something like that.
“Kid slow down, I’m not going to hurt you!” Blitz called ahead, grateful that they were in a relatively secluded section of Boston so no one would be there to see him chasing a young boy. He didn’t need more trouble after the past few weeks he’d had. His uncomfortable trousers pulled mercilessly against the back of his knees. If only he’d been allowed to make them some disguises that looked second hand but didn’t smell like the kid’s bin.
“Stop following me!” The kid (Murphy?) shouted back at him before he tripped on a crack in the pavement and stumbled to his hands and knees, an act that was far from the grace he was used to demigods having. Or rather, his demigod sibling all of which inherited their mothers ‘elegance’, he preferred to think of it as laziness.
“Woah, you alright?” he asked as he changed to a brisk walk, careful not to get too close to the terrified child. Said child was cursing under his breath as he rubbed his hands together; Blitz peered over the kid’s shoulder to see the limbs were covered in a criss-cross of furious red gashes.
“Just dandy,” the kid hissed. He fell back on his behind with his legs sprawled in front of him. Blitz snorted to himself as Hearth caught up to the two of them his face sheened with sweat from their impromptu game of tag.
Clumsy child, he signed a not-smile on his face as he observed the pouting child. Conveniently, the kid had fallen under a street light which helped the dwarf get a better look at his appearance. The kid had a young face that had sadly lost some of its softness, no doubt from his time on the streets. Blond hair caressed the boy’s shoulders and seemed to fall into his eyes no matter how often he tucked it away. A rubber band decorated the boy’s wrist so maybe he put it up on occasion, an out of date hair style but Blitz could see the appeal.
His clothes hung from his lean form, the logo on his red t-shirt had long since faded into a stained mess and his grey jeans fell to his mid-shin. Blitz almost winced – scratch that, he did wince at the poor choice of clothes. He had just managed to get Hearth to wear decent clothes, how long would it take for the kid. Assuming that he lived long, of course and that he didn’t bolt again; Blitz was never a fan of the old cat and mouse faff that came with trying to get people to trust you.
“That looks sore, kid. You might want to bandage it.” Blitz tried, hoping that the lack of pity in his voice would spur the kid into an all-trusting state, a dwarf can hope.
“With a banana peel?” he asked gesturing vaguely to the area around him without looking up. The kid was right; the dark path contained multiple fruit remains.
“I was thinking with raw chicken but,” Blitz shrugged, ignoring the pang of pride in his chest when the kid gave an unexpected snort. Hearth stepped forwards towards the injured kid (he really needed to get the kid’s name) and crouched down a few steps away. Like a bag being zipped up, the kid tensed and drew his legs close again and cradled his hand to his chest as if he feared Hearth would take it from him, strange child.
I have something to help with that, Hearth explained but of course the boy merely frowned in confusion, his mouth opened in a silent ‘o’.
“He can help with you hand,” Blitz translated already feeling the annoyance radiating of Hearth and, weirdly, slight embarrassment coming off the child. As if he thought it was his fault that he didn’t speak ASL, as if he was supposed to, very strange child.
Hearth reached a hand out gently and the boy curled in on himself fractionally but paused halfway. He and Hearth seemed to have some silent dialogue which had Blitz feeling a strange jealously for. It made sense though; if there was one thing that Hearth was good at it was at understanding the hurt.
Slowly, painfully so, the boy placed his hand palm up on Hearths careful hold. The boy watched the elf with cautious grey eyes (eyes that held startling pain but warmth like a dying fire) as Heath pulled out some antiseptic wipes for Odin-knows where and dabbed the wound.
“Who are you? What do you want?” The kid asked after a pause his face crinkled with pain as Hearth tended to him. Blitz took a step forward and was pleased to note that the boy hardly reacted.
“My names Blitz, kiddo, and that there is Hearth,” he introduced bowing slightly. The boy’s lips twitched. Blitz sent a smug look to the backpack on Hearth’s back, hoping that their boss could understand how charismatic he was despite their boss’ unfathomable description of his words. He was NOT an overbearing control freak.
“I’m….” the boy trailed of suddenly looking afraid again. His name couldn’t be that bad could it?
“I doubt telling us your name will kill you, kid,” Blitz commented as Hearth finished bandaging the wound and stood up, pulling the boy up with him.
“Magnus,” the boy mumbled eyes darting from shadow to shadow. Absently, the boy curled against the wall. Blitz frowned and tried to look more relaxed so that the boy would be inclined to follow in his lead. It didn’t help that Hearth was always tense and was always waiting for something, at least he seemed to be.
M-A-G-N-U-S? Hearth asked. Once again Magnus’ blinked slowly but seemed to recover quite quickly and looked to Blitz to translate.
“Yep, his name is Magnus.” Blitz confirmed for his deaf friend. His signed as he spoke and watched in wonder as Magnus followed his movements with a pupil’s gaze his own hands dancing at his sides.
Sleep, Hearth suggested, yawning for effect. Blitz mentally prepared himself to spend the night under a bridge somewhere. He considered going to find a hotel or something to stay in and then track the kid down again in the morning. Hearth seemed to know what he was thinking and glared at him before turning to Magnus who had been awkwardly shuffling from foot to foot and looking longingly at the road ahead.
“Do you know somewhere we can sleep, kid? Cops made us leave out usual spot.” Blitz tried to go for an angry tone but he came across indifferent, which he was, but to his shock (delight) Magnus’ gaze soften and a smile as rare and deadly as mercury light up his face and he nodded.
“I may know a place.” He informed them vaguely. Hearth raised and eye brow, his hands moved and Blitz could see his desire to communicate with the boy. Blitz would have to teach him ASL then, they do say that the student becomes the master.
“It’s not a five-star hotel by any chance?” Blitz muttered and the kid snorted again a hand flying to his mouth and a blush on his cheeks.
“No, better.” he smirked. Magnus folded his hands over his chest and relaxed against the wall, his backpack making the action a bit weird but it was appreciated nonetheless.
“Really?” Blitz asked trying to sound genuinely hopeful, and failing miserable.
“Oh yeah, it has leaves and everything.” Magnus’ eyes widened in mock wonder and Blitz let out a startled laugh. “You have to pay extra for the crisp packets though, although I’m sure you two are bathing in money,” he continued walking away and smiling back at them as he went. It was only then Blitz realised how short he was, that was kind of cute.
Shall we? Hearth signed with a half-smirk before walking down after the kid with considerable more vigour than before.
Blitz stared at the two of them with a small smile.