Summary:Loki and Sigyn see someone about some daggers… Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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After getting his ass handed to him by a Svartalfar berserker Loki got a bit annoyed, actually, a LOT annoyed. Especially since it left Sigyn without his protection during a rite that could well have spelled the end of the world if not completed in time. Pretty much a fail moment for the Fire God, yup.
So, he needs to get some. Not just for himself, but for his lovely wife as well - since she's just as fond of daggers in a fight as he is, and about as well trained. Some research on the net turned up a few possibilities, and then he cast the runes, because…why not? Carpenter Studios got the most favorable reading, so that's where they went. In the interest of helping Sigyn adapt, he even hired an Uber for the trip!
Emerging from the car, Loki offers his wife a hand out, and then hands the driver a small silver coin as a tip. Because…Loki. "So…shall we, my dear?" He offers Sigyn his arm even as the driver boggles at being given a tip of /actual/ precious metal.
Sigyn smiles up at her husband as he helps her from the car. Her 'tip' for the driver is something less tangible, a bit of good luck, a touch of domestic harmony. Nothing major, just enough to make his day go a little smoother.
"We shall. You know, I thought it would be the technology that was the hardest to adapt to, but I think it's the sheer amount of information. I know it's a side effect of the technology, but… it's so large to be a different thing all together." Sigyn grins impishly, "I do not miss inky fingers from reading through the newspaper advertisments at all."
Sigyn allows her husband to open the door for her, and looks around with a smile. "Ah, now some of this looks very familiar."
The door chimes softly as the pair enter, and it's more like a museum than an actual gallery, considering the armor and weapon replicas currently on display. Up on a stepstool is a young redheaded woman, currently fixing one of the halberds as the safety mounting needed a bit of work. Without looking, she says, "Just a moment, I'll be right with you! Feel free to look around!"
Depending on Loki's talent for voices… well, he might recognize the voice, though it's been a while. About 150 years, to be precise…
"Oh yes, my wife, assume that any time you're in public you're being filmed, your picture taken without pretext or betraying flash to reveal the act." Loki's not kidding. "This is absurdly so in London, but prevalent in any major city anywhere on Midgard."
Loki is dressed today in black on black on black, accented with black and arm candy.
The arm candy being the best accessory ever! She'd even help him hide a body, making her accessory to murder.
He definitely gets the door for her, and smiles as he sees the collection, the museum like quality to the place. "Looks like the Runes spoke truly."
And then he hears that voice, brow furrowing. "Annabelle…Annabelle Bransford?!?"
Sigyn is dressed in green and gold, her truly ridiculously long blonde hair braided up, coiled and pinned with gold and emerald pins on her hair, and still with all the braids and coils the tail of it falls to her waist! "Watched every moment in public… Mmmm… reminds me of being at the Palace." The Allfather's palace, but she won't say that outloud if they are truly being watched, she assumes they may also be eavesdropped on. As far as hiding bodies, well… Sigyn likes things tidy.
Then he recognizes the person on the ladder, and she arches a brow, giving him a teasing smile. "You know her? Anything I should know about?" Her husband's affairs don't worry her, most of them even make entertaining stories. It's his other acquaintances that are more of a mixed bag.
Angela blinks, then laughs, "Oh my, Loki Laufeyson." She glances over at Sigyn and gives her a wry expression, "Pretty sure you are not his brother, however." With that, she nimbly hops off the stepladder, "Look, if you're here for the money from the card game, that's been spent a long time ago. And you lost it mostly fair and square anyway."
Picking up the stepladder, she walks over towards the counter, setting it back there, "Though, I suppose you showing up here was only a matter of time, considering the Embassy opened up not too long ago." She tosses a wry glance over her shoulder, and grins at Sigyn, "Oh, we met over a poker game about… hmmm, 1884, I think. He knew me as…" She pauses and affects a very rich Southern accent, "Mrs. Annabelle Bransford, thank you very much."
Then she breaks the accent, and leans up against the counter, "Though now, I go by Angela Carpenter. Or Angela to my friends." Her eyes narrow a bit as she looks at Loki, "So… what brings you here, of all places?"
"Well, well…well." Loki's voice is actually rather amused. "No, decidedly NOT my brother, attractive as he might be, never had the desire to sleep with him. I'd have definitely tupped Fandral, though I doubt he'd reciprocate those feelings with me being me." He smiles to Sigyn then, and looks to 'Angela' as she approaches. "Well, of course you cheated, that's how games are played. I'd have been disappointed otherwise, though I did like the hat you made off with, that was a good hat."
A bow, and then he motions to Sigyn. "Sigyn, my wife. Sigyn, Miss Angela Carpenter, an old friend, one I've run into several times over the centuries." Has the annoying habit of calling him kid, though. Definitely a detractor. The Angel feather tip after the tupping and the robbery…that was pretty nice though.
Sigyn smiles warmly at Angela, "A pleasure to meet you… let's see… 1884. I was living in London then, Mrs Silverton. I tend to settle in one place for a decade or more, while my husband tends to wander."
Sigyn tsks at Loki, "You'd only tup Fandral if you could keep his mouth busy enough to not not talk." She smiles at Angela, "We were in the market for a new set of daggers."
Angela smiles and steps forward, offering her hand to Sigyn, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. And yes, well, we have known each other fairly well, though… daggers, you say?" She hmms, "I can help with that, depending on the material you would need."
With that, she gives Loki a look that only someone with her age can convey. "Though I think I'd be wanting to know why you'd need these daggers forged, at the very least." Her lips curve in a bit of a wry expression, then she looks over towards Sigyn, saying as an aside, "You must be a goddess of Patience Eternal, I would think."
"Fidelity, actually." Loki answers the last bit first, for reasons. "As to what we need now that I see who the smith is I'd like to ask for three pairs for both Sigyn and myself. Cold Iron, True Silver, and Blessed Steel."
Oh, well, is /that/ all? Nothing exotic at all!
"Oh, I liked that flat, London is always a fun place to poke at, the Brits are so DIGNIFIED it is ten times as fun to mess with them."
A snort of amusement at Sigyn. "Well, yes. He's nearly as vain as I." A pause. "Actually, he might be /more/ vain than I."
And then /finally/ he answers Angela. "As to the why - we ran into some Svartalfar, and I had my magical sword, but…yeah, Cold Iron would have been much better." A shrug. "The other materials…sort of a 'just in case' thing. Fortune favors the prepared, after all."
Sigyn smiles as she clasps Angela's hand, "And as our wedding vows did not include sexual monogamy, I can honestly say Loki hasn't broken them." Her lips twitch with amusement, "For some reason though, it bothers most paramours to come downstairs and find the wife fixing breakfast, so he tries to let me know now if he is going to be bringing someone home."
"Ran into is a polite way of saying the Svartalfar were trying to kill or capture me so the Alfablot wouldn't be completed, and Midgard would become a new Realm of the Dead." Sigyn has this ability to say even the most dreadful things in a sweet, reasonable tone of voice. "I'm also hoping to cut the balls off of Wormwood if he propositions me again."
Angela hmmms, "Well, yes, dark elves are rather annoying, and cold iron would be easy enough." She hmms, "As far as silver goes, well, if you're going to be annoying any werewolves or vampires, you'll want silver plated weapons, as true silver would likely just annoy it long enough to murder you. So that isn't a problem."
Then she smiles at Sigyn and squeezes her hand in hers, "Oh, believe me, after twelve thousand years of existence, I don't believe in sexual monogamy, though I do respect that of others, so I'm glad I didn't intrude in any way." She pauses and smiles wryly at Sigyn, releasing her hand after a moment.
Looking back at Loki, she sighs, "As far as a blessed blade is concerned, um… that, is going to be a solid no. Those aren't things that I can be giving out willy nilly! I understand you might have demon troubles, but I can think of far better ways to deal with them than giving out holy blades! Do you want me to get cast out? Or worse, sent to Wisconsin?!?"
"In truth, dear wife, I have never broken any of our vows." Which statement surprises even LOKI! He laughs softly. "I love watching them chafe at the oddities, though there was that one sweet boy in the fifties, he hung around for a while." And Loki brow waggles. "And -hung- was definitely part of the fun, especially when he met your sister, Luna." AKA - Loki. Ahem.
At the mention of the fight however, his mood visibly darkens. "The fight did not go well for me." He admits. "Fortunately my wife and the others present were able to deal with the issue. And yes, Wormwood and the others need to feel a bit of wrath."
He literally shakes off the dark mood by will alone, and then pays attention to Angela's answers. "Fine." Cold Iron. "Fine." Plated with silver, he rather expected that answer. And then he laughs and shrugs. "A deity has to try, yeah?"
Sigyn kisses Loki on the cheek, "You are a better man than most give you credit for." An impish grin, "And a better woman as well."
Despite the teasing, she's been thinking things through, fighting demons from the christian pantheon, you need tools from that pantheon. Norse demons are more the elemental sort, and they have their own methods for dealing with them. "Could… the silver plated daggers be made so a small amount of holy water could be stored in the hilt, then released over the blade when a trigger is pressed? I'm not a bladesmith, so I'm not sure of the practicality."
Angela gives Loki a wry look, "You definitely succeeded back then, but well… if you do have demonic troubles, let me know. I might not be serving Vengeance any longer, but I can definitely get some smiting in if necessary."
With a wink, she turns back to Sigyn, and sighs, "Not easily, no. But… well, look, if you manage to have a priest bless the blades then that's on that priest, not on me. Or, well, like I said… I can provide some heavy duty smiting if necessary." She grins at Loki's wife, "Though I do like your style. And that dress."
Besides, how hard would it be for Loki to get a priest to bless the blades? This is Loki we're talking about here, after all…
"Of course. Everyone tends to underestimate me." Loki laughs softly. "And I LOVE that." Most of the time.
Loki looks intrigued by the possibility of the dagger with the reservoir. After all, you can put other things in, toxic things for example. At Angela's demure, however, ne just nods.
"Am I to understand you'd be willing to ally with a 'pagan' faith to smite? I'm deeply touched, Angela Carpenter, and yes, I saw what you did there."
Oh, Loki could get a priest to bless the blades, he still messes with Christian Priests and Jewish Rabbis from time to time, but…/ANGEL/ blessings are a whole different thing.
He produces a list of specs for the blades. "Two sets then, Silver plated, and cold iron…to these weights and balance, we'll stop by to finalize things upon completion."
A nod. "And you'll have to drop by our home over my shop, Cover Story in the Lower East Side. We'll have dinner, go to a play perhaps or shopping…then you'd be welcome to stay as our guest were you so minded."