2019-11-02 - Poor Unfortunate Souls


In a quest to become something better, Betty seeks out the aid of Loki and Sigyn.

Log Info:

Storyteller: {$storyteller}
Date: November 2nd, 2019
Location: Cover Story

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It has been a couple days since the meeting at Cover Story, and then Betty would find a very odd looking envelope in her inbox at work, the mailroom kid even looked a bit weirded out about it. The envelope is actual /vellum/, and hand calligraphed to her attention in a bold and flowing italic hand.

Once opened inside is a formal invitation to join Loki Laufeyson, God of Fire, of Trickery, of Lies and his wife Sigyn, Goddess of Fidelity in their home for dinner. A briefer note in another hand adding in 'And oh yes, some testing of magic potential'.

The invite is for this very very evening, at 7PM. Formal attire not recommended.

"Brant!" A voice booms out toward her only to calm as its maker notices her expression. "Betty? You ok?" Brant smile and closes the letter away, turning to face Jonah with a nod. "Doing fine, chief. I'll go grab those subs. Be back in ten." Tossing her bag across her torso, she points in the older man's direction. "Pills five and seven. With water. WATER, Jonah." Then she's gone.

The day passes like any other, aside from getting a treat for the kid in the mail room. She'd met for dinner with other beings before but it would never not be nervewracking to her.

On the dot, she waits outside of Cover Story, pacing and conversing with herself before biting her lower lip and giving a knock at the door. In her other hand is a brown paper bag with some warm smelling pastry inside and the hint of apples.

Sigyn opens the door to Cover Story, "Come on in, Miss Brant." She's about 6'2" and has dark blue eyes and long blonde hair… the hair alone might make someone expect that she was more than human, for it's braided and coiled and pinned to the back of her neck and there is STILL a tail of it that falls to her waist. It must brush the floor if she ever lets it down. Her clothing, however, is more normal. Black slim-fit jeans, black cross trainers… And an emerald green t-shirt that reads 'Domestic Goddess' in black calligraphy. She leads Miss Brandt through the door in the back of the shop, through the office space, and up a staircase. "You don't have any allergies, do you? I quite forgot to ask before making dinner, but if you do I'm sure I can come up with something."

Loki is seated in the conversation pit, wearing a loose fitting green sweatshirt, and black jeans, but no shoes, just black socks. He rises when the ladies arrive, and offers Betty a friendly enough smile. "Hello Miss Brant, glad my message arrived in time, ravens can be a bit unreliable, but one makes due when one must, mm?"

Which might explain the mailroom clerk's emotional state when he made the delivery! The upstairs of the place is rather a curious blend of modern and really old and Asgardian. "So…dinner after the testing, I should think." A curious look, head canted to one side. "So…how did you find the scroll? It is a good primer to start with, if you couldn't get one of the spells to work from that then, well, dinner can be served immediately."

Betty Brant greets the amazing beauty with an almost shy smile on her lips and a flush of color across her cheeks. "Oh, no, I'll be fine. I, um, brought some dessert that I hope I made correctly. Appleskives." Following after, she's careful to not lose her pace. "Thank you for inviting me, Lady. It's an honor to meet you." Her own attire was casualish - she was having dinner with dieties, it was hard not to want to dress a bit more up-scale. In a black skirt, navy blouse and onyx pumps, the reporter is decorated with a few bangles of bronze, gold and orichalcum beads woven into her dirty-blonde hair. Though she didn't match Sigyn's in length or style.

"Am I allowed to be cheeky and ask for Asgardian Mead?" Someday, someday… Once seeing Loki, she offers him a nod of her head. "Yes, I got it. You…can call or text, though. I understand tradition but somethings aren't that bad." Smirking, she stands motionless for a moment and looks over the pair. "So you're…one of those couples that dresses alike? Cute." Talk comes up about the scroll. "I think I got some of it to work. I'm honestly not sure. Nothing blew up or caught on fire, so I'm taking that as a plus."

Sigyn mmms, "I wear my husband's colors as a bit of a political statement. There's also the magical side of it." She studies Betty, "You see, one of the major differences between the magical and non magical view points is for the non-mage, the symbol is not the thing. The map is not the territory. The flag is not the country. For a magic user, it is, or rather, it can be made to be."

"Of course you can, Miss Brant, you're a guest in our home, never let it be said that the House of Loki Laufeyson failed to host well a guest." In fact he conjures the mead himself, the good stuff too, straight from the Allfather's private stores. Hey! He's a trickster god, of COURSE he has the keys to dad's liquor cabinet!

"Oh, I like the modern texting thing sometimes, but really, for something like this? The old ways are better."

Loki nods. "Mostly she honors me by wearing my colors and putting up with my shite, Betty Brant." He smiles when Sigyn speaks of symbols. "The SYMBOL is what you invoke, and through that invocation you impose your will over a bit of reality. Now, be aware, even if you do carry the potential for magic the power of a magus is a very personal thing, I cannot teach you MY magic, nor Sigyn teach you HERS, you'll learn to find your own and should you carry the potential - you'll have the help of a deity or two to find your path." A grin though his eyes are very serious. "Of course Gods do require respect be paid them, prayers, rites, offerings…do you feel you can meet those requirements?"

Betty Brant blinks, eyes going round and doe like at the offering of mead. Just there, right there, without warning or…Reaching out, Betty scoffs and cradles the glass in hand. "Astryd and Fen never…" They never let her have any, she was mortal, after all. Accepting the glass, she holds it close but has yet to drink it. "Oh! Yes," She offers the bag of pastries out to whomever wishes to take them. "I hope they're alright and you like them."

Now comes the talk of religion. Her own expression turns somber. "Of course I can. I, well, I do already. I've converted and I have offered my aid to everyone of your kin should they need it. I offer prayers and the like to one of your own already, I don't see any issue with offering more."

That gets Sigyn's attention, and she looks at Betty sharply. "There are rituals that need to be performed with the seasons, including animal sacrifice. They have been long neglected, lost to Midgardians or the forms corrupted past usefulness. Halloween nearly saw a disaster, and I barely completed the rite before it was too late." She looks over at Loki, "Having mortals trained in the rites and performing them properly would greatly increase Midgard's safety."

Sigyn thinks to Loki «And if we make her copying down the rites part of her training, it saves you from having to do the work.» She knows how to appeal to her husband on multiple levels.

"Ah yes, the valkyrie and my oldest son." Loki briefly frowns, remember he owes them both debts, and then he looks at Sigyn, and the frown fades. Worth it. He'll accept the gift of sweets from his potential new student as a proper sacrifice, and will even set it out for everyone to take their fill. Loki laughs. "We're part of a pantheon, unless you're directly a servant of one of us, even then really, it is fine to offer prayers to whichever you need the aid of."

He frowns at the reminder of his ass kicking, but then nods when Sigyn follows up with the logic about mortals. "It /is/ proper." He murmurs. "And increasing the safety of Midgard plays to the Allfather's plan to humiliate Thor." He makes no comment about the hidden mindspeaking. "So…when you're ready, Betty, we'll begin the testing…first you'll need to be starclad, and perform the proper cleansing rites." He'll pause, testing to see what Betty's limits are, and then grins. "Actually, you don't. I'll get my testing materials and tools." He rises to do just that, leaving Sigy and Betty to keep each other company a while.

Betty Brant looks at the drinking horn with consideration, setting her nose close to its edge to take a smell of what she assumes will be some form of celestial honey. "I-" she hesitates, something there and on the tip of her tongue, some truth to be spoken. Nodding as he speaks, she looks at the pair when he starts telling her what needs to be done. "Well, whatever needs to be done. Just tell me how." A step forward, she seems more than willing to do as told. Then he grins and walks away.

Turning, she looks to Sigyn and offers her another smile. It's easy to see that the mortal standing there is being attacked by her own nerves.

Sigyn smiles at Betty, "We're each of us true to our natures. My husband is god of Mischief, among his many other titles. He is a good teacher, but not necessarily a… kind one. If you want to know the risks, you will have to ask. He won't volunteer. I'm the goddess of fidelity. I'm a bit easier to deal with, unless you cross my husband or break an oath." She grins, "Loki, for example, did not include -sexual- fidelity in our vows. And Asgardian mead is incredibly potent… So think carefully about what you want to do… and who you want to do it with."

"No, I-I understand risks. I take them all the time so it doesn't scare me. I'm not insane yet from stepping over to this side of things. Why not continue?" Betty asks, finally taking the first sip of mead. It was like an afterthought, really, that 'I'm talking and have a drink in hand - dont' forget to drink!'. It was a mouthful, perhaps less, but enough to cause the woman to shudder in place and pant out, cheeks flush.

As Sigyn continues to speak, Betty's face goes all the more flush. Then she giggles. "Um, well then, I…um…" Laughing, she offers the woman an adoring smile. "It sounds like something my mom would have said to me. That's not an insult, mind you, it's…great. Thank you."

Sigyn sighs and carefully takes the horn from Betty, and hands her a glass of water instead. "Drink this, dear… you'll thank me in the morning." She smiles at the young woman, "And I would never take being called a mother as an insult. Ever."

A few moments after their little talk, he can't help but smirk at the obviously swooning Betty, but—as Sigyn said, he won't warn of risks, not usually anyway. Betty wanted mead, so, she got mead. In fact as his guest she got the very best mead available anywhere in the Nine Realms. Not his job to let her know it is /not/ like Midgardian booze, at all. In fact sometimes it kills mortals, she seems to be made of sterner stuff, which in a way is another test of her magical potential. Not a KIND one, but one all the same.

Once he returns he takes out that bundle Betty saw the other day, and rolls it open, leather backed cloth, and inside are tools that probably DO resemble torture implements.

"So…you have managed at least some of the household magics I had on that scroll, that's enough to warrant testing. That the mead did not kill you is also a good sign." He smiles. "So…now I start the first of the three tests I know." He takes several of the tools and interlinks them incredibly swiftly, and then they shimmer, and form a sphere. "It will take strength of will to return the tools to their quiescent state." He removes his hand, the sphere stays floating. "So…unravel it with your will, Betty Brant."

Betty Brant almost pouts. "Hey, that was one sip, I didn't even drink that much." In truth, she hadn't, she only had a sample of what was in that horn. Accepting the water, though, she drinks it back as well. "Just don't get rid of it. Maybe I can try drinking more." Take that, Astryd! Take that Fenris! Take that Hod!

When Loki returns, she faces him directly, the beads in her hair giving a soft melodic jingle as they clink together. Eyeing the tools, she sees the shift and form until they're nothing as they use to be. The sphere floats and she steps closer.

Was her will actually strong enough? The things she'd seen, the places she'd been - she was still sane for the most part. Different worlds, the roots of the World Tree, Giants, realms of fire and light, death and bridges, the faces of other Gods of different families…compared to all of that, this sphere was daunting.

Her hands lift and touch the sphere, trying to see what it would feel like against her skin. Solid? Liquid? Soft? Flexible? Her brows furrow and the pair can see that she's trying to make something, anything, happen. "It's a symbol. The symbol…making it what you need it to stand for."

Sweat starts to shimmer across her flesh and in some need to feel steady, the woman steps out of her heels and plants her bare soles on the ground. Her fingers move, her vision goes distant and in an odd glow of, radiant and blinding, the woman finds herself holding to something the size of a loaf of bread. Metal, wood, she blinks and turns around, handing the Gods their tools back - all bundled up as a Swiss Army Knife. "I-I fucked up."

Sigyn laughs softly. "Well, that's a new form." She smiles a bit at the sight and takes a long slow drink of the mead. Softer she murmurs to Loki, "I won't let her die of this… but with the headache she'll have she may wish I had."

Loki watches very closely as Betty works on the unraveling, and as she manages the much more difficult feat of a transformation, he actually smiles. "You have not fucked up anything, Betty Brant." He smiles to his wife. "Transmogrification…" He looks back to Betty. "…quite an impressive showing for a first attempt. Alas, further testing this evening will likely be a waste of time. Rest, be welcome in our home, in the morning you'll face the next two trials, and of course…the Trial of Waking After a Complex Working While Inebriated." A sage nod. "That may well prove the greatest challenge you face that day."

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