2019-04-30 - Mead Goggles


An impromtu gathering of super soldiers, a fine Lady, and an elf atop the roof of the Asgardian Embassy.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Tue Apr 30 08:11:48 2019
Location: Asgardian Embassy

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Theme Song



The roof garden is tasteful and artistic and a little bit of Asgard away from home. And right now, it's got a drunk mortal and a tipsy elf in it. Contrary to what one might expect, Bucky is not generally a tearful or morose drunk. Nor is he this time.

No, he's chortling to himself, an absurd, nearly silent wheezing. The blue eyes are bright, the high cheekbones are streaked with pink, and he's apparently just tickled by some joke Kai just made. The mortal boy's dressed in a dark blue dress shirt and black pants - somewhat more formal than he usually is, when out and about. He's sitting by the elf next to a little fountain, where ornamental fish dart and gleam in the pool.

Kai is in jeans and a hoodie, dressed for Midgard, though his features are ethereal and elfin, making it hard to pass for human. Not without illusions, anyway, and he's not employing any. "That's not even the best part," he says, laughing along with Bucky. "Two days later, he comes home after work and finds the goat right there in his apartment." He pours a little more Asgardian mead for them both. He's tipsy, surely, though he's pacing himself a bit better than poor Bucky.

Bucky dissolves into sputters. Well, at least he isn't falling over drunk. Not yet. The mead must hit him harder than it does the elf. Unsurprising, really. His hair's tied back in a low knot, though locks have begun to straggle loose. "That's like the time Dumdum went into battle riding on a cow."

Sif doesn't visit the rooftop garden often, it's the genteel sort of place that she's never really fit into on Asgard. But, as Kai had invited her to join him here, she felt it would be dishonorable to refuse so simple a request. Thus, here she is.

Weaponry left in her room, she frowns faintly at the sound of someone clearly enjoying their mead a bit too mu— Her eyes flick between the elf and the Midgardian who is as tipsy as a youngling having their first taste of proper mead. "Have I missed something?"


Having received a text from Bucky about this evening's plans, the workaholic Captain had even cut from work a little earlier than usual — ergo, about fifteen minutes before seven o'clock. He arrives at the Embassy still wearing his Triskelion office get-up of plainer plaid button-down and dark slacks and parks his bike off to one side.

Upstairs he heads and arrives not but a handful of seconds after Sif herself. He catches the end of the Soldier's thought about the cow and can't help but laugh.

"Not Dumdum, Morita, and you must be talking about Heil Heifer." Kai's given a friendly little wave and Sif gets a more formal nod of his head. "Evening. Steve Rogers," and he offers out a hand for her to shake if she's inclined, his smile good-natured.


Kai sits up and raises his cup to Sif. "Lady Sif! You made it!" Then Steve comes in not long after, and he says, "And Steve! Sif, these are two friend sof mine from one of the wars, Sargeant Bucky Barnes and Captain Steve Rogers. Gentlemen, this is Asgard's own Lady Sif, of beauty beyond compare and as fierce a warrior as there ever was."

He sits up and pours another two cups of the strong Asgardian mead. "We're celebrating tonight because I'm an elf, and that's what we elves do. We celebrate. Hey, should I order a pizza?" A perfect accompaniment to mead, surely.

Bucky actually coos in pleased astonishment at Sif's appearance. It's a ridiculous sound from him. "Wow," he says to her. His actual manners only belatedly make an appearance….whereupon he rises, bows, and manages not to dump himself facefirst into the fishpond. "A pleasure, ma'am. Sergeant James Barnes formerly of the 107th, sh- shieldmate to CAptain Rogers." The look he turns on Steve is utterly sappy - doggishly adoring. Who has the most beautiful man in the world for his fiancee?

Sif turns to look at Steve when he arrives, and at the offered handshake grasps his forearm in the manner of warriors — he's likely been greeted similarly by Thor. "Well met, Captain Rogers." She looks back over at Kai when he offers introductions. "I did not realize you had seen battle recently, Kai." She's not overly surprised, though. From what little she's seen of 'television', there seems to be battle almost constantly somewhere on this realm.

Then Bucky is all pickly-polite, and she can't help but find it amusing. It usually takes an Aesir a LOT of mead to get that… cheerful.

"What is 'pizza'?"


"Well met, my lady," the Captain replies in his bone-dry liquored state as he returns that warrior handshake. Indeed, he is familiar with the firm and friendly grip from interactions with Thor and Baldur. "Pizza is a food that pairs great with many alcoholic drinks," Steve replies as he accepts the drink from Kai with a quiet 'thank you'.

"If you wanna order some, Kai, I can put it on my card?" he offers to the Elf. He walks to step into place beside Bucky and affects a lean against the man before offering to bump mead mugs. "Slainte."


Kai laughs at Bucky's antics. He tops off his own cup and the soldier's to keep the party going, and maybe to see just how much Asgardian mead he can handle. "Pizza is great," he tells Sif. "They take a layer of bread, then tomato sauce, then cheese, and then different meats or vegetables. Then they slice it up, and they bring it right to you, piping hot."

He nods then to Steve and says, "Sure, if you want, to. I'm still getting a few things straightened out with the bank. Turns out my account has been open all this time, and my savings has been collecting interest, but I'm having a time convincing them that it's my money, since I don't look old enough to have opened an account in the 60s." He takes out his phone to begin ordering. "Traditional pig meats for toppings?"

Buck openly leans on Steve's shoulder, for a moment. The closest he's ever come to real PDA. But then he straightens and taps mugs with Steven. "Slainte," he agrees. Though of course the non-Midgardians hear 'health'. "Yeah. Bacon," he says, with enthusiasm. HE apparently doesn't intend to sit until Sif does.

Sif accepts the mead from Kai and settles onto a bench near the others before taking a small swig of the stuff. If they're getting a meal, she'd like to wait for that before quaffing her tankard.

"Are most Midgardian foods prepared in such layers? I requested a 'hot dog'," she says the food's name in actual English, with an accent, "and it was layered with many odd flavors." And she ended up with a yellow stain on her shirt. Her eyes study the two men, not at all judgemental. More curious than anything.


"Can't deny the lure of bacon," confirms the Captain. "Go ahead, Kai, here's my card if they want the number." He fishes out his wallet from his back pocket and holds it in his teeth as he pulls out the credit card in question. It's held towards the Elf between fingers like a playing card. He continues speaking after taking the wallet in-hand again. "I understand your troubles, about your account. It was a mess when I came back. They thought I was dead." Steve slides away the wallet into his pants and glances at Sif.

"Not all Midgardian food has layers, but…geez, a lot of 'em do now that I'm thinking about it." He grins at both Bucky and Kai. "Lasagna, cake, hot dogs." A nod towards Sif. "Certain drinks even, if you can float layers of liquor. Always thought that was a trick." Steve then takes a solid gulp or two of the mead and smacks his lips, blinking. "Always forget how good this is," he murmurs to the drink itself.


Kai takes the card and makes quick work of ordering the pizza. He can't have been back in Midgard for all that long, and already he's mastered the phone. He doesn't even have to talk to a person to make the order. And now he has Captain America's credit card on file, so that's something he surely will never abuse.

"I'm a fan of layered foods," he says, "also of foods that are stuffed into other foods, like a turducken. It's like reverse layering. Lady Sif, have you had street tacos? If not, we definitely need to amend this." The card is handed back, and he settles comfortably with his mead. "There will be plenty of bacon on the pizza," he announces.

Bucky has subsided a little bit. He's mostly just bright-eyed and pink. "Most of the best foods have layers, here," he agrees. "Remember that Moroccan stuff I make? Bastila?" he asks Steve. "And baklava. Can't forget that." Someone's taste was permanently warped by his service in North Africa.

The mention of being thought dead has him looking wry. "I'm still arguing with the VA about my back pay," he says, a little grumpily.

"I have not had 'street tacos'," Sif admits, "though I have heard mention of them. I … do not truly understand such a wide variety of food choices. It is as baffling to me as the strange sigils on the outsides of every building, and why they seem to change with the part of the city I'm exploring."

She looks mildly confused by Steve's mention of back pay, very likely another concept that fails in translation via Allspeak. For sure, most of Bucky's words do not parse at all, but she can venture a guess based on context that he's speaking about food of some sort.

"I did encounter a place the other day that seemed even more unusual than most. Have you encountered a truly strange soup called 'Gang Som Pak Ruam'?" Her accent butchers the unfamiliar words even more, making them very likely totally incomprehensible.


Steve takes back the credit card and puts it away, explicitly trusting that nothing bad will come of his good-natured offering to pay for tonight's pizza. "Excellent. Nothing like lots of bacon." He clunks mugs with Bucky again and takes another deep sip. It's strangely refreshing, the mead, and leaves him wanting to drink more…and already, his fingertips are tingling.

"We'll get that straightened out," he reassures the Soldier as to back-pay with a firm nod. "And when we do, more baklava. Extra so they can experience it," and the Captain gestures to include Kai and Sif. "I'll drop it off on the way in to work or something."

Sif's mystery soup gets a good-natured furrow of brows from Steve. "Can't say I've had that before. Gang Som Pak Ruam?" Attempting to echo what the Asgardian warrior said makes the pronounciation all the worse, especially given Steve's Brooklynite accent.


"Wait, is that the sour curry soup?" Kai says. He's taking a stab in the dark here, but he knows Asgardian accents well enough to suss out enough of it. "That stuff is so good. We should have order in nights, just to sample all the great food New York has to offer. I need to take some recipes back home to see what our chefs can do with them."

Bucky looks blank at that. Sif is enormously distracting - he keeps giving her these owl-eyed looks, as if he'd gone invisible and she couldn't see him gawking at her in amazement.

The mention of the soup has him shaking his head. "No. What's it like?" he asks. "Where did you get it?" Steve's tapping of glasses is enough to remind him that he needs to drink more, because he can still feel gravity in effect.

"It was… like nothing I had tasted before. And it left a burning sensation that would not abate." If asked to be honest, Sif would have to say she's not entirely sure she enjoyed it. It was just so foreign to anything she was used to eating.

"Perhaps your idea has merit, Kai. Sampling Midgardian culture through food seems far less potentially damaging than entering a pub and creating a disagreement from a lack of understanding."

She looks at Bucky staring at her owlishly, then glances at Steve questioningly. "Sargeant Barnes, why are you staring?"


Steve can be seen to look at Kai and round his mouth in silent understanding after the explanation as to the dish itself. He then glances from Bucky to the Asgardian warrior as he sips at his mead more. He's become more relaxed through the lines of his shoulders and in his stance, weight more to one foot than a habitual readiness to move. His brows do meet again to hear that it basically tasted like burning.

Sif's question to Bucky, however, has his shieldmate trying to give the brunet an oblique look. The Captain can't help the small smile, not with how the ghosts of dimples betray him. One eyebrow lifts as he waits to hear why.


Kai glances to Bucky, and he just grins. "Yeah, Bucky. Why are you staring?" He may not run Steve's card up now that he's got the number, but that doesn't mean he's not a stinker in other ways. He takes another sip from his mug. "We could try a new cuisine every time," he says to Sif. "One of my favorites is Greek. There used to be the best Greek restaurant here in New York, but it's closed down since I've been gone. The chef taught me how to make some of the dishes, though."

He looks at the Elf and the Captain incredulously, like that's the stupidest question asked in the history of ever. "Because she's so beautiful." The 'duh' is implied, rather than spoken. Then he looks back at her and says, dreamily, "And terrifying." A pleased sigh. Does he realize he's talking out loud? He does. To Sif. "Because you're so beautiful," he reiterates, dreamily.

Sif can't help but frown at Bucky's mead-dreamy words. She's not been outright called beautiful since her hair was turned black, so she doesn't really get what he's on about. "I suspect that your friend has imbibed a bit much, Captain." Of course, the way Steve's downing his own mead…

She turns a slightly stern look at Kai. "You /are/ going to make sure these Midgardians do not suffer excessive ill effects come morning, yes?"


After Bucky gives his reply, the Captain drops his chin. One can see him struggle mightily against containing the laughter, but finally, his shoulders begin jouncing just the slightest. Instead of rolling out of him, it instead sheets across his body in goosebumps. A deep inhale and blinked, composed expression at Sif after she comments as to Bucky's state.

"We'll be fine. I'll get him home safely," he reassures both Asgardian and Alfheimian. "We're made of tougher stuff than most." The Soldier gets a friendly elbowing in a throw-back to grade-school habits. Steve then kills the rest of his mug and sighs. "Shouldn't have more'n this though." And he weaves slightly in place.

"Though now I want Greek," he adds with a laugh towards Kai.


Kai tells Sif, all innocence in those big blue eyes, "I'll get them a room here and treat them to a breakfast known to promote morning-after healing and rejuvenation." Bacon sandwiches and hair of the dog that bit ya. What else could the mortals need?

His phone chimes, and he gets up. "I'll be right back," he says, and he heads out of the garden, only to return a little while later with a pizza box. He didn't skimp on size ''or'' pig meats. He opens the box, sets it down, and tosses beside it a handful of napkins. "Find me a kitchen," he tells Steve, "and I'll make you something. I'm glad I got his instruction while I had the chance, because he taught me some good stuff."

For some reason, Bucky's smirking a little. But then he's contemplating Sif dreamily again. "Yeah," he tells Sif. "Fine." He's still drinking, it seems. Not a peep out of him about stopping. Steve is the designated semi-sober assassin wrangler, it appears. In a terrible stage whisper, he asks Steve, "…..are we staying the night here? I didn't bring any night-clothes."

Sif watches the increasingly inebriated Bucky with an expression of growing concern, though that's derailed by the arrival of the pizza, heavy on the oink. "That is… very strange looking." She waits for one of the others to start, though, as she's not entirely sure how one would even eat this bizarre confection.

And then Bucky's stage whisper prompts her to ask Kai in the native language of Asgard knowing his Allspeak will translate it, "Are you sure that it's not harmful for them to be drinking mead? I've been told Midgardians would be gravely harmed by even a small amount." It's clear she doesn't grok the whole super soldier thing.


"Easy enough," the Captain replies to the offer of Greek room in exchange for a kitchen to work within. Apparently, Asgardian mead reminds Steve of how hungry he is — that, and skipping dinner in lieu of making certain that the younger agents know how to react to a smokebomb thrown into a windowless room. He's the first to take a slice of pizza atop a napkin and bites into it with a sound of contentment.

"They'll have stuff we kin borrow," mutters Steve back around his mouthful of food, apparently hungry enough to momentarily forget his manners. Pig meats is so delicious! He can practically feel his body soaking in the calories.


"They're strong for mortals," Kai tells Sif, speaking Asgardian with an Elvish accent. "Very powerful. They can't get drunk on their own mead. They need ours." He smiles at Bucky and Steve amiably, then leans into snag him a slice of that za. "You two will be fine. I always keep extra everything around in case of company. Old habit from my previous Midgard days. Lots of parties, some real ragers."

Bucky's manners are fairly delicate. At least, he doesn't wolf it. Kai gets a grin of thanks, first. "Okay," he says, edging closer to Steve. Even drunk, old instincts die hard, so he's not totally hanging off the Captain.

Sif ahs and nods in understanding, then after watching the others each take a slice of the pizza, does so as well, though with FAR less ease. But, she does manage to get it to her mouth with only a few toppings falling off into her lap.

"Mm. This is far more cromulent than that soup. An excellent choice, Kai." Again, she catches herself watching the two men, wondering why the shield brothers — that is clearly what they are — seem a bit reticent to act freely.


"Hits the spot." Steve finds a nearby chair and settles into it, amiably patting the seat next to him as he looks at Bucky. Of course, he leaves greasy fingerprints on it accidentally, but at least he's not longer going to be wondering about his inner ear swishing back and forth. He leans in to snag another piece of pizza given the first one might as well have vanished through sleight of hand.

"Might be sober in a bit 'nd we can go home. That way, we're not making you sleep on the couch," he says to Kai, adding in his usual earnestness, "Kind of you to offer, 'ppreciate it." He's only had one mug of mead, after all.


Kai waves a hand and says, "You're not making me do anything. You should see this couch. I do the same thing back in Alfheim. I've got these richly appointed quarters, and I sleep on the couch. It drives my grandmother nuts." He refills Steve's mug. "I'd feel better knowing you two hadn't gotten on the road when you should've stayed. Besides, you should see how the Asgardians break fast. Every meal is a feast." He starts to top off Bucky's pauses, then does so, though he says, "You should eat some more, Buck. Also, you guys don't have to hide. Not here."

Now Buck's smirking to himself, devouring another piece of pizza. But he pauses in mid-bite at that, gaze cutting comically to Steve. He was already pink, but now the color deepens to red. Like the worst sunburn ever. He hastily finishes the bite, and then notes to Kai, apologetically, "Kai….we'd ruin your bed."

Finishing her slice of pizza crust and all, she drains her tankard of mead then reaches for her second slice as well. "I concur with Kai. You should both stay here, rest properly." And yes, that 'properly' implies more than just sleeping off the mead despite the fact that Bucky is as red-faced as a youngling facing down his first barwench. She even scoffs at Bucky's concern for Kai's bed.

"The furniture in this building is of Aesir build." That explains everything as clear as mud, right? Right.


Steve considers the refilled contents of the mug of mead and it seems to require a lot of mental effort…for once. It might also be that he's seeing a lovely haze around everything. He coughs through his next gulp of mead, just a little, at realizing where the conversation has turned and swallows carefully.

"Looking forwards to sleeping in. Won't be able to ride a motorcycle safely after this mug," he admits with a quiet laugh, red at his ears and cheeks as well.


Kai nods to Sif's words, adding, "It'll be fine. Thank you for keeping my furniture in mind, though." He raises his mead to Bucky, then takes a drink. "This is nice," he says. "I was staying in a hotel til Fandral said the Embassy had room for me. Now I get to hang out with old friends and new." He smiles, and there are shameless dimples. "Still working on new, but the point remains. I'm glad we're doing this."

Which is when the booze takes control like a possessing demon, or the drunken ghost of Winter himself, determined to wreck Bucky's happiness. "So you're saying it's okay if we fuck in your bed?" he asks the elf, earnestly. Then he looks down at the mug, then over at Steve. "If I can make that happen. I don't think I can make that happen."

Sif doesn't butt in on Bucky's words to Steve. She knows it's not her place to say anything at this point. So instead, she focuses her attention on finishing her second pizza slice and holding out her tankard to Kai for a refill. She's not even close to buzzed, and the food will likely mean she won't get there at all. That's not why she's here, though, so she's not at all concerned about that.

Lifting her tankard in silent thanks to Kai, she gives the two men some semblance of privacy by not paying them attention for the moment.


Reaching out, Steve pats the other man's thigh. More pizza grease, oops. "Sleeping's not a bad thing either," he replies diplomatically with a firm nod. A third slice of pizza is snatched up. "Been a long time since we've been able to have a nice drink with nice folks." The Captain lifts his mug to all present and says in Gaelic,

"«May we drink and be merry all out of one glass.»"


Kai shrugs at Bucky and says, "Someone might as well. I'm afraid it isn't seeing any action on my behalf." He looks briefly morose, but only briefly. He raises his mug to Cap and replies, "Hear hear." He takes a drink, then snags another slice. Pig meats and mead do pair well. "May the sun shine upon us brightly." Light Elf. What can he do?

That he's made a faux pas finally sinks in….and Buck turns an improbable shade of red. "Oh, sheesh, uh. Sorry. A toast, huh? Uh….let's see. Let those who love us, love us. And those who don't love us, may God turn their hearts. And if he doesn't turn their hearts, may he turn their ankles, so we'll know 'em by their limping."

Sif raises her tankard as people start offering toasts, and offers her last as it's the simplest. "Skaal." The Midgardians likely hear it as 'Cheers'. She then takes a good swig before looking at the two super soldiers without any judgement in her eyes. "It is good that you are both here." She doesn't elaborate on why.


"Light 'n limping 'n skaal," the Captain echoes quietly before laughing. He takes a big gulp of mead and slouches back into his chair. "It's nice to be here too, milady Sif. Definitely nice to be here. Could be so many other places, but this?" Steve gestures to the garden rooftop, with its koi pond brightly lit and the radiance of carefully-planted blooms, and to the company surrounding him.

"This's a good life, if I'm not overstating things." A wee hiccup.


"It is," Kai says. "A very good life." This time he raises his pizza in tribute. "It's good to see some of the advancements Midgard has made. To civil rights in particular, though there's always work to be done." He glances out over the city, and he smiles with a warm fondness for the place. "Next time, I'll bring Firefly wine. Then you'll have to stay over too, or explain to people why you're glowing. It's nice on a Spring evening."

"It is a good life," Buck agrees with Steve, softly. "And I'd like that, Kai." Refuge and no judgement, here at least." He's gone past cheerful and garrulous to sleepy, it seems. Maybe the Elf's bed is safe, after all. Then, suddenly, he asks, "…..oaths are a big deal for you folks, right?"

Sif's calm, almost cheerful expression drops almost instantly at Bucky's seemingly innocent question. He's just reminded that she was wrongly marked as an Oathbreaker. Kai can likely see it.

She keeps from snapping at the man, though, he has no way of knowing… unless he has magical aptitude in a way that so few Midgardians do. Either way, she looks to Kai to answer the question. She's in no place to answer herself.


The Captain lifts his mug towards Kai. "Firefly wine next time then," he agrees with a lop-sided grin. Leaning back heavily in his chair, he looks dozy-eyed between his shieldmate and then to Sif, expecting to hear an answer to the question.

When none immediately comes, he then glances over at the Elf, given the silent directive by Sif herself. His eyebrows lift in wordless curiosity.


Kai glances to Sif, then to Bucky and Steve, and he sits up a little as he says, "Well, yes. It's a good thing to keep your word. We feel that trust is important, and being able to maintain that trust, it relies on one speaking true to one's actions." He pauses, then adds, "Though it can be stifling sometimes, as no one is perfect, and there should always be a chance for redemption if the heart is true. That's what I think anyway."

"Who do you swear by, when you swear? For real, I mean," Buck asks. Suddenly on a very different tack…and there's something dark in the ice-blue eyes. Is that anger? "And if a Midgardian swore by it, would it matter to you?"

Sif glances over at Kai, perhaps with a bit of concern. Maybe too much mead for the dark-haired Midgardian. Now, though, she tries to offer answers. "You swear on your honor. To be dishonored before all of your people if you break your oath as a guest in the household you are visiting is one of the worst things you could do on Asgard. It is taken VERY seriously."

Again, she refrains from mentioning being marked herself, it would only confuse the men most likely.


Now Steve's wearing a bit of a concern about his features, in furrowed brow and lack of attention to his drink. "It makes sense, swearing by your honor. Something not a lot of people want to sully. Actions mean more'n words anyways in the end," he opines quietly as he takes another sip of mead. His eyes flicker between them all and invariably return to Bucky, marking the subtle nuances of vexation in the man.


Kai says tentatively, "My parents, they've got a bit of a treacherous reputation, but they're trying so hard to make up for it, and their actions since their one transgression have been nothing but honorable, but it's a lot to live down. And I grew up under the pallor of that deception, and what can a child do against such accusations?"

He shakes his head, then says, "But yes, you swear on your honor, and you should keep your word. I can't speak on behalf of Asgard, but your word would mean something to me."

That slow, cold anger, the good-natured confusion partially banished by its rise. "Thanks for telling me," he says, softly. But offers no further explanation of why he wanted to know. No glance at Sif, or the Elf….doesn't seem to be aimed at either of them.

Sif finishes her second tankard of mead and sets the container aside. She's done drinking for now. "Perhaps it is time for you both to go sleep. Before unquiet thoughts plague you further." She stands and steps over to offer one or both men a hand to help them to their feet.


Still bemused by the abrupt line of questioning, Steve contents himself with figuring out precisely where it stemmed from later. Much later. After he sleeps off the effects of the Asgardian mead. He's wondering at the near-bottom of his mug when he realizes that Sif is standing before him.

"Thanks," he murmurs, using her firm-handed assistance to get to his feet, but only after setting the tankard aside. He does wobble as he gets up and blows a loud sigh. "Forgot how it tastes good and goes right to your head, that mead." A heavy side-step and a faint laugh as he puts a spare hand to his head. "Could sleep in the clothes I'm wearing."


Kai grins suddenly, the story of his own brush with dishonor water under the bridge, just like that. "Let's call it a night," he says. "We'll have some nightclothes brought, and robes for the morning." Surely the Embassy has these, since, alas, the small Elf probably doesn't have clothes that will fit the super soldiers. "Lady Sif, again, thank you for joining us. Your presence is always a delight." He gets to his feet so that he may bow to her properly.

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