Summary:Ted shares info about the yellow scarabs with Amora Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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How does one get in touch with an Asgardian? Ted had been too flustered last time he was at the embassy to see if they even had a phone number. Or magical conches or something that they distribute to use as a communications system. Email seemed right out. So, of course, Ted had to come back to the embassy. Of course, it's hard to coordinate schedules, so he had come by a couple of times.
Amora had received messages from embassy staff that a human man identifying himself as the Blue Beetle had come asking about her. When she proved unavailable, the information indicated, he had explicitly stated it was no big deal and that he was just in the neighbourhood and thought he would drop by. But he was busy anyway.
On one occasion, however, Amora gets word from the staff that the Blue Beetle is back again. His flying craft is hovering out front of the building, and the man in the spandex blue costume, bulbous yellow 'eyes' and all, awaits by the front door, having been told that Amora may, in fact, be in and available. He's brushing his hands on his costume and generally looking fidgety.
Amora wasn't entirely idle in all this time; having tried to fit what scant amount of research she could into her duties. Not that she got far yet. It was with detached bemusement that she was notified of his various attempts, and his message was met with a long stretch of silence as she very slowly reclined and gradually began to cover her face and shake her head.
When she arrives, she steps through the doors the way most people walk fashion show runways, one hand on her hips, wearing a pair of green high heeled boots and tights that seem seamless with each other as if they were one item, subtly adorned with a design of connecting circles of a slightly different shade of green; a similarly colored corset leaving her shoulders bare, and a pair of green arm bands that cover her forearms. And, as always, the emerald colored tiara on her forehead.
There's a bit of a theme one might notice.
"Mister Bettle." She greets with a coy smile as she approaches him. "You could have simply asked for me the first time." As she draws near, she hooks one finger under Ted's chin and lifts his head up slightly as she passes, "Assertivness gets you far~"
Amora passes behind him, then turns around, crossing her arms. "You have something ready for me, then?"
Ted's eyes widen behind his lenses as Amora makes her appearance. Striking doesn't begin to cover her appearance and, as she saunters, heeled boots putting a certain sway into her step, his jaw drops. He manages to shut his mouth before she gets close enough to rest a finger under his jaw. "Hi Amora~" he waveringly offers with a lovesick grin. "Oh… yeah, I can be more assertive if you want!"
He tenses slightly, the outward manifestation of the inner voice in his mind, ridiculing him for something so asinine. Still, a moment later, he lifts his chin to keep his eyes on the taller Asgardian's and he clears his throat. His voice comes out sounding more sure. And unnecessarily deeper, too.
"Yes! Come with me. Let's, ah, take a spin in the Bug." It's really an attempt at being assertive. He's trying. It's obviously not within his comfort zone entirely, but it's something. He moves to beside her and, despite a moment of hesitation, he braves reaching out to actually touch her. To put his hand on the small of her back, as though she needed directing to the hovering technological marvel/monstrosity outside.
Amora closes her eyes, her shoulders shaking with a quiet chuckle when Ted responds to her. Wether it's endearing or mocking, her expression remains pleasant enough that one tends to assume the best. In answer to Ted's 'assertion', Amora nods once, answering "I'd be delighted- oh!" Her eyes flutter briefly with surprise at the minor contact, which she seems to consider for a moment before giving Ted an amused smile and following his lead.
The nerve of mortals, really! But it's endearing in its own way. He's like a puppy.
She makes herself comfortable as she takes a seet in the Bug, waiting for it to get moving before she speaks again. "I confess I'm eager to see this scarab of yours." She says, looking at him from the side. "'Framed' or not, any matter involving Hod is… well." She closes her eyes and shrugs her shoulders a little, "… A source of anxiety for my people." She makes an effort to seem nonchalant - manipulating the impression she gives off IS an acquired skill of hers - but even she can't help but seem a little nervous about the matter despite the attempt at confidence.
He dotes on her on their way into the Bug. He expects she can manage the vertical ascent on her own (sigh, Amora can probably do anything!), but nonetheless, his touch having been accepted once, he is only motivated to assist her again. It is in a doting, caring sort of way, it being obvious to Amora that he's infatuated with her. As so many have been before.
Still, in short order, Amora finds herself in the Bug. The exterior walls are smooth, rounded and metallic. The finishing inside is actually luxurious. There is carpet on the floors, drywalled interior walls, soft leather chairs and couches, and other luxuries. He enters commands into a console on his wrist and the rope ladder retracts into the vehicle. The hatch closes and, smoothly, the Bug ascends vertically before soaring silently through the city along a pre-programmed path. It is the sort of tour offered by helicopter companies offering romantic outings.
Ted clasps his hands together, rubbing them and bobbing his head agreeably. WHen she confesses some anxiety, his expression falls. Clearly, Amora feeling anxious is something he must remedy. "Of course of course," he agrees. "I… uh… just I need to be a good host. Can I get you something to drink? Any snacks? I have some fruit, I can mix you a drink…" There, on a sideboard, is a very posh arrangement of fresh fare. For someone who tends to 'just be passing through' despite his busyness and for whom this is 'not a big deal', there is quite a bit of preperatory work that has gone into the chance for one-on-one time with Amora.
Amora is pleasantly surprised at the interior and makes a bit of a show out of seeming impressed at the relative luxury of Ted's transport; even if, truthfully, Amora has rarely settled for less than this unless she had to. She lets Ted have his fun doting on her until she takes her seat, crossing her legs at the knee.
She seems briefly surprised when he reacts with any kind of concern, briefly aware that her mask slipped - which isn't ideal - smiles as he runs through a host of offers. "A drink would be wonderful." She replies warmly.
Truthfully she doesn't actually want anything yet, but it's good to get men in the habit of doing things for her.
Ted happily obliges, making his way to the bar. A cocktail set is produced and, in moments, he's putting together ingredients in a Boston shaker. Of course, he researched what she might possibly want to drink in advance and - try-hard that he's being - he's come up with a plan for a mead cocktail. It's late enough in the afternoon. It was all elaborately staged and planned out. If only he knew what a steep challenge he faced in trying to make an actually memorable impression, let alone a favourable one, on his guest.
It takes just a minute (he actually practiced making this drink several times and was getting quick and efficienty at it). In short order, he delivers her a fluted crystal glass with a mead-gin cocktail. There is a small plate with assorted berries, including a large pile of outrageously expensive cloudberries, native to Scandanavia and difficult (and expensive) to find on this side of the Atlantic. He holds this in one hand and then, flushing slightly, extends his other to her. To help her up, again, as though she needs it. "I'll show you my work-up in the lab," he tells her. "And then, you can have the construct, if you want it. I'm done with it." Once she's standing, one way or the other, he offers her the plate of fruit.
Amora reclines briefly, rocking back and forward gently and taking in the sweet music of men falling over themselves for her, until Ted's hand appears. She lets it hang there for just long enough to let his brain to start revving up the worrying process before she takes his hand with a smile and rises to her feet. She takes the glass and holds it beneath her nose for a moment before sipping it once and smiling. "Wonderful. Thank you, Mister Beetle. You're very kind."
One of these days she's going to learn that's not your real name, and she will work very hard to no-sell it.
She holds the plate for maybe a second before it begins subtly levitating next to her, paying it little mind save to pick a berry between two fingers as Ted speaks, nodding her head slowly. "If it's not dangerous." She agrees. "I daresay the embassy is not mine to ruin." She says with a bit of a wry smile. Lord knows she acts like she owns the place, though, much to the varied consternation or infatuation of those who frequent it.
She could see the effect of the worry on him. So many have adored her for so long, Ted is unlikely to be remarkable among them. He likely falls well short of several in many important ways. But it is ridiculously easy to see the effect she has on him. The self-doubt, the worry, when she doesn't take his hand right away. The relief, the grateful smile when she does.
"No no," he assures her in a rush when she mentions it being possibly dangerous. "It's dead. No danger." Walking alongside her, he leads her to an orderly, far more metallic space in the Bug - a laboratory outfitted with all manner of expensive, miniaturized scientific equipment. On a wall is a large-scale schematic of a robotic scarab. Electrical blueprints and mechanical blueprints are hung side-by-side. The small device itself sits on a countertop beneath.
"So…" he glances uncertainly toward her, his gaze drifting just for an instant to the hovering plate beside her before returning to her, to be lost in the emerald of her eyes. "Oh." Focus, Ted! "Um… do you… do you know anything about circuit design? There are some odd things going on here that I should point out but… I mean, I don't want to mansplain things. I just don't know if you have a background in this kinda… stuff." Uh oh, there are her eyes again. "Hi." The last word was uttered seemingly without intention on his part, without him even knowing. She could probably ignore it and he would never realize. If she was inclined to do so.
Oh, all men fall short in some way - Thor being the possible exception - Amora has long since learned to overlook the minor flaws of useful men. Her gait is almost conservative for once as she keeps pace beside Ted, watching him between curious glances to her surroundings. For a woman who's often immersed in the arcane, it's a rare thing for her to be surrounded by things outside her understanding, but a human's scientific environment manages to do it. It's curious, certainly, but without a means to approach learning it right now, it may as well all be visual noise to Amora. Interesting noise, but noise.
She nods slowly as Ted explains, then stops explaining, then explains his explaining, a patient smile growing on her face. Though she gives a curious look at one particular word. "Man…splain-" she stops short and shakes her head, smiling again, "Do not worry, Mister Beetle. I confess, technological matters are mostly alien to me. An impressive skill, however." She says with a twinkle in her eye. "Magic on the other hand-"
Amora stops mid sentence and blinks when Ted greets her, then smiles with pure amusement. "Hello~" She says kindly, and lets the silence hang there for one agonizing moment as she struggles to contain an amused smile, before she turns to the scarab again. "*Magic*," she begins again, "on the other hand, is a subject for which I dare claim expertise." She says with zero lack for regard of how embarrassing such a statement could become should she fail to divine anything. Gesturing to the scarab, she asks, "May I have a look while you explain? I'm curious to see these runes you mentioned."
Ted seems visibly relieved that he will be able to explain things to her without her getting upset. Doubly so, since it's already obviously a pleasure for him to talk to her. When she offers some complement to him - at least that's the way he interprets it - that he has an impressive skill, he swells with pride. He beams in transparent jubilation at the winning comment from her.
The genuine smile she offers afterward though only makes him mirror her expression more, albeit in a far less physically perfect manifestation. That she echoed his greeting draws his attention to it, and there's that fleeting moment of alarm and horror at this misstep, but the warmth of her smile is a balm to all. He is all eager nods and starry-eyed adoration as she professes expertise. He certainly seems to think she's probably an expert.
"Ah, let me… let me show you up here first. Then you can have a look in the microscope." He turns toward the printouts on the wall and gives a brief orientation. Certainly, there is some flexing of his mental muscle, since she said this impressed her. And really, for all his idiotic fumbling, his casual fluency with technology is readily apparent. This human knows machines.
Having oriented her to the power supply and the various lodes that would demand power, he effectively explains - on a need-to-know level - how the circuits should be laid out, at least in broad terms. He then points out where there are unnecessary deviations and inefficiencies built in to the structure of the circuit board itself. And that, in fact, this draws a majority of the power from the device, into what would be from a pure technological standpoint, a waste. But it is obviously an intentional one.
He's babbled for a few minutes straight, seeming aware that she may not have limitless patience for it, and manages to mostly present a coherent message. Almost like he's practiced this. Over and over. Maybe into the mirror. Finally, he gestures to a seat in front of a microscope. "Here, A-Amora… please have a seat. It's easier to see directly than on the print-out." He takes the scarab - opening the already unfastened carapice - and sets the circuit board under the microscope for her to inspect. He'll have to adjust things. He'll have to sort of lean over her, so close, to adjust the height of the tray and the focus for her. There is certainly going to be some hand-shaking as he goes into full-on "nervous geek tutoring the captain of the cheerleading team" mode. "I love you… er, *I'd* love *for* you to let me know if any of that makes any sense to you…"
Amora lets Ted absorb that moment for a little while with genuine amusement before letting him speak with studious silence, bending forward to glance through the microscope on occasion, her gaze flitting between it and the schematics as she tries to follow his explanation with… *enough* success that she wouldn't necessarily embarrass herself, but not enough to claim she has a knack for technology. She gets the gist of it, however, enough to compare what she sees to what's 'correct' when she needs to - even if she has to remind herself ot that repeatedly.
She looks confused for a moment as you offer a chair to the distracted sorceress before saying "Oh!" And taking the seat with a gracious little smile. "… Curious…" she murmurs softly as she studies the strange design - alien on two fronts, both to her world and this one in different ways - her lips pressing into a thin line. Not many people get to see 'studious Amora' in her natural habitat. She tends to come prepared with everything she needs to know. She's a bit of a student, is Amora.
Her brow raises very high for several seconds after Ted's misspoken request, before she finally turns her head away from the microscope with a wry playful smile. "You're very eloquent, Mister Beetle…" she says softly with a smile - clearly referring to everything BEFORE just now, "You'll be the first to know what I find, I promise~"