Summary:Thor searched for Loki; he finds a Betty instead. Log Info:Storyteller: {$storyteller} |
Related LogsTheme Song{$themesong} |
  |
The Asgardian Embassy is a storied building, graced with the presence of beings of heroic proportions whose past has tied them to this world and beyond, that foothold granted for now in the realm of Midgard by this very home away from Asgard. Its first floor is large, a sweeping lobby with a large wooden desk for the herald to hold with what public advances upon the embassy, to grant access or deny it depending on the merit of their requests.
And for this day in the times of modern legend, Bjarke is so honored with the duty to stand guard at the ready behind the desk, two comrades within the confines of the building to lend their aid should it be so required. Usually those duties are light, to be fair, despite what passed during All Hallow's Eve, but today is a touch different.
For when the blond man in the blue jeans and the grey hoodie steps through, pulling his glasses from his features, his disguise fools none of them and he is addressed promptly.
"Your Royal Highness," Bjarke, an older Asgardian likely from the time of Bor and a soldier true. He rises from his place and the trio of soldiers bow properly and executed with military precision…
Only for Prince Thor's smile to reach his eyes as he looks between the three men. "Bjarke, is that you?"
"It is indeed, my Prince." The older warrior is well-seasoned enough not to let the recognition show that it pleases him, though it reaches his eyes if one were to look for it.
"It has been a long time. Years upon years."
"Aye, my lord. The battle of Svolder, when we stood against the Svartalfar."
"A cold day, and wet."
"It was indeed, my lord."
The smile remains on Thor's features, "I am looking for my brother, have you seen him of late?"
"Which one, my lord?"
"Lord Loki?" Betty pipes up, having stepped through after the massive Prince, hidden by his size and the cheer of his fellow soldiers. The woman is slender and petite, her smile bright and present. Dirty-blonde in hair, partially braided and even beaded with runes of importance, she glances at all present and offers a nod in greeting.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to interupt, but I'm looking for Lord Loki. I wasn't sure if he was here today, but he didn't seem to be at his home." Cradling a book against her chest, the mortal steps back, giving the foursome their own space so not to intrude - at least not much more than she already had.
Her attire is simple and fitting for the chilling weather outside. Her legs are clad in ratty denim, feet hugged by sneakers and torso snug under the billowing folds of a hoodie just a few sizes too big for her. Today was a dressdown day for Betty, it seems.
"Aye," Thor says, perhaps a little confused for a moment as he looks upon Bjarke with furrowed brow. But then he turns to face Betty and he uncurls a hand, "Prince Loki, I would have words with him, and indeed I did not find him at his residence." Though knowing Thor he likely didn't look too terribly thoroughly.
He turns back towards the old soldier and asks, "But you have seen mine other brothers recently?" The Asgardian royal asks with a twinge of curiousity to those words.
To which the solider coughs slightly and then shakes his head as he replies, "Not 'recently', my lord." Perhaps being discrete in the favor of one of them. Thor eyes the man askance, but decides to let it go, instead starting to step away a little.
"Alas, His Royal Highness Prince Loki is not in residence nor has any appointments today. But I shall pass on word that you seek him, Prince Thor."
That said Thor dismisses the man with a nod and a small wave of one hand, turning his attention upon Betty as he tilts his head slightly. "I do not know you." He says matter-of-factly, but then smiles and touches a hand to his chest, "I am Thor, Odinson and Prince of Asgard." Introductions offered properly and awaited.
Betty Brant keeps her silence as the small group speaks. She parts her lips to mention something about another Asgardian (and brother), but then closes her lips before anything is given voice. Apologetic in expression, she eyes the soldiers and then takes another step back.
As Thor turns to face her, she keeps her smile, giving him a deep bow of her head. "It's a pleasure to meet you finally, your highness."
Head up, she continues. "I'm Elisabeth, um…Sorry, I don't know my father, but my mother's name was Eleonore. Mortal of Midgard, Ally to Asgard and Priestess of Fenris." Hand out, she lets it hang in the air, preparing for a shake.
"Then I bid you greetings, Elisabeth Eleonorisdottir." The tall blond man smiles politely as he extends his hand to take hers gently and give her forearm a clasp and a small shake. But twice in execution and then releasing as he turns to look back upon Bjarke.
"You enjoy my thanks, Bjarke. Convey my words and wishes to my brother, the sooner I speak to him the better." With that said he turns back to the door, pressing a hand against it and pushing it open. He does spare a look for Betty and says, "I am away, returning to Stark's Manor for the nonce. You are welcome to walk with me if such is your path."
That said he holds the door for her should she so wish and if she does then he'll follow after her once they're stepping out and onto the city streets, letting the door swing shut silently behind him.
Betty Brant allows the conversation to continue onward. As Thor moves to leave, she offers the others a wiggle of her fingers and jogs after. "Sure, I got time. Besides, if Loki," pause, "his highness isn't here, I won't be finding him, either." Slipping through the door, she glances at it as it swings shut. Falling into step with the massive blonde, she clears her throat and speaks once more.
"So, I'm sorry I haven't met you until now. I've been meaning to meet everyone I can of your kin. As with the others, I offer you my aid as much as I can offer it."
"That is a kind and noble sentiment." Thor offers as he looks upon Betty askance, as if trying to gauge this curious young woman as he walks along, one hand lifting to the side and held out for the moment as he walks as if waving to someone distantly. Yet there's no one there.
He tilts his head curiously as he adds, "I must admit I am not up to date on the beliefs of the mortals, but I was not aware that Fenris had priestesses…" His eyebrows lift as he looks away, gaze distancing. "Or had worshippers." Though that does seem to shift him more to inner thoughts as his eyebrows rise, one thought leading to another.
"Are there many others of your ilk?"
Looking for whatever he was waving to, seeing nothing, the reporter shrugs and falls back into step. "Well, he doesn't. As far as I know. Perhaps once upon a time he did? Surely." She murmurs and nods. "Same with worshippers. I suppose I'm part of a…revival? I'm a recent convert." Comes her confession.
With another shake of her head, the woman reaches up and brushes some stray slips of bronze-gold hair behind the shell of her ear. "Not that I'm aware of. But maybe in time? It's a big hit to the system once you realize that Gods are real. Especially the older ones."
Thor gives a nod, his eyebrows lifting and he's forced to nod a bit as if accepting that as a likely possibility. He looksto the side away from her then back and reaffirms that nod with another. "I am sure. I suppose I should not be surprised." His personal interactions with others have been primarily met with incredulity from the mortal people, not caring to view the Asgardians so much as Gods. More as gods.
Then there's a faint blur in the distance and a sudden /whom/ of sound as a cane seemingly appears out of nowhere and claps into the Thunderer's hand. He makes no remark on it, seemingly treating it as if it were a thing that happened every day. Which, for him, it does. So he tucks the cane under his arm and proceeds to walk down the street.
Occasionally she may well see people pausing and smiling, pointing. A pair of young women laugh and fish out their cellphones to take distant pictures of Thor as he walks along with Betty. "How does Fenris feel about this?"
Noticing that swoosh of motion, the woman tenses briefly. Then, he catches something and tucks it away. Her head cants as she eyes the object, her thoughts tracing back to Loki and his own walking stick. Her brows knit, then relax, as she keeps her thoughts silent on the matter for now.
"Hmm? What do you mean how does he feel about it? I should think well since he called me such a title." A soft smile, she holds her head up just a touch higher as they walk. "If need arises, he trusts me to speak for him. That's…not something I take lightly." Glancing toward those with their phones, she doesn't stop them, but instead returns her attention to their path and the man by her side.
"Do you…disapprove?"
"It is not for me to approve nor disapprove," Thor answers, though it really isn't an answer at all. His lip curls a little as he walks and he tells Betty sidelong as he moves. "We are gods, aye. Bound with magic and given rein over our aspects, the embodiment of our ideals and our purviews carry a weight to them that is not seen beyond beings such as ourselves."
He uncurls a hand as he moves, "But I was there when my father and I came to Midgard, when we stood against the Svartalfar. I believe it was then that the mortals shared many of our tales and in truth we were influenced by them as well. It is just always amazing to me to see what comes about over the course of time since you of Midgard are so short-lived."
He walks on for a moment in silence, thoughtful, then he adds. "It makes me wonder how we come across to other such beings whose lifespans and power dwarf our own."
Betty Brant shakes her head. "I'm not sure. Perhaps it's just the way of the Worlds? Some allowance of Fate that gives you all the chance to experience these new things? As far as most mortals think, there is nothing more than the here and now. We're short-lived, so we usually keep to that mindset."
Considering his words a moment longer, she pauses at a stoplight and waits for the crossing signal to shine green. "Maybe that's the way of things after all? So many lives spent and there's still something new to learn and experience." A smile, she looks up toward his face, still clutching to the book at her chest. "In truth? I'm jealous of you and your kin."
At that a glimmer of the cavalier attitude returns as Thor replies with a wry smile, "Well of course, who wouldn't be?" But he is not being entirely serious in that moment. Instead he stops at the light and waits, one hand resting on the side of the blinking box and the little stick figure that is telling them to wait and wait and wait.
"But if Fenris has granted you this singular honor then there must be something to it." That said he gives her a nod as if granting his approval to her though she did not ask for it. His eyes slip back over to the other crosswalk signal across the way, seeing it's still red he turns back to her and adds. "I have not spoken with him in some time, however. I am curious to reconnect with many of the expatriates. To find out what has passed for them and how the years have treated them."
He tilts his head to the side and hrms, "Though I wonder if my attention will be welcome or no."
At that the signal turns and he starts across. A few more photos are taken as they walk on.
"I'd hope so. In truth, I just hope I don't let him or any of the others down." Moving as he does, she gives another brush at her hair and a rolling of her shoulders. She didn't seem to mind where they were by now, keeping the man company as long as he would have it. "I guess the only way to know that is to visit with them and see. If anything, you can struggle with some hospitality and go from there."
"I can give you addresses and numbers if you'd like? I have contact with Lady Astryd and Lord Fenris. I also know how to reach out to Lord Hod, though he usually doesn't like it." Pause. "Lady Sif can be reached through Lady Astryd, and she's usually hard at work at the Embassy. Lord Loki and his wife, Lady Sigyn, well…I assume you already know where he lives, too."
"Aye, Sif, Loki and I remain in touch even in difficult times." His smile is there, memories granting the warmth of their recollection. But he nods again to her and taps a finger on the side of the cane, thoughtful and then returning his attention to her.
"But best I use other channels, direct and allowing them the grace of declining should they so wish. But feel free to relay to them my interest." At that he smiles a little, "As you most likely will, I imagine?"
That said he continues on, "But come, enough of my prattle. Tell me what brought you to this place you hold, Lady Elizabeth."
"If you'd like, I can mention your name, sure." She smiles and nods. Chuckling, she shakes her head. "Prattle all you want, I'm a good listener. As for me? Do you mean…the title? I guess I proved myself a time or two. I found Fenris and Astryd due to just some hunch. I noticed a few patterns in pictures and stories and tracked them down. They asked for my help with something and it just went from there. As I said, it was sobering to see something Godlike be there, present and kind. If that was real, what else was real?"
"If I can help fate shift just a bit, I want to." Beat, "Oh! And call me Betty. All my other friends do, anyway."
"Betty," Thor says as he stops walking and looks to her, one hand on his hip. "Well it was a fortunate turn to have made your acquaintance, Betty." He smiles to one of the passers by who waves at him, giving a wiggle of fingers to the Thunderer. The wave is returned and then Thor focuses back upon the young priestess.
"Please feel free to call upon me at Stark's Manor. While in the realm of Midgard I likely will be there, though in truth I am frequently out as well. I am told I have an electronic mail, but I have never received one, though apparently I am told it is popular." His eyebrows lift as if the reason for that escaped him.
"Will you be safe if I leave you here, or would you prefer an escort to your destination?"
"I feel lucky to have met you, too." She smiles kindly. "Stark Manor? That's a bit…upscale for me, but you're welcome to call on me when you'd like, too. Here." Opening her book, she rips out a small slip and then digs for a pen in her side bag. Scribbling down some numbers, she offers it out toward him. "This is my number. If you don't understand how to use a phone or anything, I can help out. Though, if you're in Stark Manor and he doesn't help you out? That's just plain lazy."
"Oh, I'm fine. Really, go relax or do whatever you need to do. Thanks for keeping me company, your highness."
The cane slips to his hand with another faint /whom/ as it gives a subtle shimmer and contorts like a desert mirage into a hammer of some size, its square head bright with portent and subtle magic. "Thank you, Betty. I shall call upon you in the future."
As he says that he places the slip of paper into his pocket and gives her a single nod the accompanies it with a half-smile that reaches his eyes. "Until another time, Lady." That having been said he steps back from her and spins the hammer, whirling it through a clean arc of movement with just two flicks of his wrist and then suddenly letting loose with it upward, strong enough to draw him up into the sky with a short rush of displaced air causing a brush of wind to wash past her and those nearby.
Then, seconds later, even against the skyline he's gone.