Summary:Steve and Bucky attend dinner at the home of Sigyn and Loki. The food is excellent and the company even more so. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Sigyn has been busy in the kitchen on and off all day, and the apartment above the bookstore smells wonderful, the scent escaping downstairs a bit. It's not particularly fancy, a thick lamb stew, soda bread, and barmbrack a traditional irish tea cake made with dried fruit… which she is pretending to threaten Loki with a wooden spoon to keep him away from between fits of giggles. "Don't you -dare- touch the cake before dinner! I swear, it's that dinner with the Ascots all over again. Go be useful and show our guests up…" But she's not really mad, far from it. "At least there's no salmon for a cat to make off with…"
Loki drips menace at his (utterly unimpressed) wife. "If I want cake now, I'll have it -now-, woman." He faux-growls. He really is quite adept at the menacing growl thing, not that she's even slightly fooled. After a bit, he laughs softly, and then bows. "As the Queen of the Castle decrees."
Loki descends to the main shop below, and answers the door. He is dressed in clothing of black and green with gold trim, it looks like something straight out of the Victorian era, form fitting, a half-jacket, and sleekly fitted. He wears a dagger at his waist, but no other obvious weaponry. "Gentlemen! Welcome to Cover Story, please, follow me, my lady wife awaits us upstairs." He will greet both men very warmly, eyes dancing with mirth as he air kisses by each of their cheeks. Why? Because: Loki.
The chill of November is kept away by the thickly-knitted, triple-wrapped forest-green scarf about Steve's neck. In a sharp black blazer overtop a sky-blue button-down shirt and neatly-pressed slacks, his dress shoes have been buffed and shined. Lamplight gleams off of them from above as he and Bucky wait outside the shop doors.
A puff into his hands and quick rub tries to retain heat. "Glad we didn't take the bike," he comments to his husband with a grin. They'd taken a car instead and parked it nearby. Then the door opens and they're greeted by Loki looking refined from a bygone era. Steve blinks and leans away the slightest as the air-kisses happen, but he manages a crooked smile nonetheless. Quickly, he covers up his surprise with a polite smile.
"Evening to you, Loki, and thank you for the invitation," the Captain replies, making a point to step into the shop first though not too far within as to wait for Bucky to return beside him once more. "This is a nice place," he adds after looking about the interior of the book shop itself. He'll follow along behind Loki otherwise.
Buck greets being air-kissed by an Asgardian with his usual faintly sardonic deadpan, though he gives Steve's reaction a barely concealed glance of amusement. He's also in blazer ( gray), a white dress shirt, and darker gray slacks. The tailoring of all of them….it's beautifully done, and all faintly closer in style to the period of his own early adulthood, the 1930s, than the modern day. In other words, James Barnes has no truck with 'slim fit' and 'skinny jeans'. "Thanks for inviting us," he says, voice low, gruff, but pleasant enough. He's got a box under his arm. They may not be impressed by fancy earth chocolates, but….can't hurt, right?
Sigyn is wearing an ankle-length black skirt and a green cable-knit sweater. She has the handsome, slightly too flawless look of many Asgardians, but really the most remarkable thing is her hair, it is braided, coiled in a bun, and the tail from that bun still falls to her waist as thick as her wrist. It must brush the floor when unbound. "Welcome to my home, gentlemen. I'm glad to meet you both. Loki is trying to ease me into the modern age and get me to meet people." She seems remarkably warm and cheerful. "I didn't make anything too fancy, I hope that's alright." Electric stoves are less temperamental than coal and wood, but she keeps feeling like a flavor is missing in the food… though what she wouldn't have given to have had a stand mixer on some of her previous stays on Midgard!
Loki definitely admires both Steve and Bucky's attire, lets face it, both men are very handsome specimens. There's a faint smirk at the slight recoil that Steve manages to mostly control. He is not shy about the admiration either. Regardless, he leads the pair through the shop, the smell of old books and ink faintly contested by the stew and baking Sigyn's been laboring over. "Thank you Captain Rogers, I am somewhat proud of it. My collection is fairly sizable, do let me know if you want anything hard to find."
His smile for Bucky is quite warm. "oh, delighted to have you both. Positively delighted." He briefly grips both men's shoulders, just a small gesture of welcoming before he turns to lead the way through the shop and up a spiral stair in the back room, and up to the apartment. "Beloved wife, Sigyn, Goddess of Fidelity, allow me to introduce James Barnes - 'Bucky' usually, and his very lucky husband, Steven Rogers. Gentlemen, my wife, Sigyn." He will himself take coats to hang them should the gentlemen be so minded to permit while she speaks.
Were there a hat to take off, Steve might hand it off to Loki as well. Murmuring a quiet 'thank you' as he shrugs out out his blazer and offers it to his host, he then puts a palm to his breastbone. An attempt at a bow is directed towards Sigyn in particular and then she gets a gleaming grin from Steve.
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Sigyn," he says by way of greeting to the woman. "We're honored to be here and to partake of your meal. Thank you. We brought a little something as well, thought it was a good idea." He gestures towards the box in Bucky's arms.
Steve sniffs…and then sniffs again. Oh, is that…? He glances over at Bucky, transparently impressed. The food smells spectacularly good!
"An honor, ma'am," Buck says, voice low. Then he's proffering the box - an assortment of chocolates, handmade locally. "These are just sweets for after the meal…." A glance between Steve and Loki. Do they even have chocolate in Asgard? Here's hoping. "A sort of traditional gift for one's hostess." By his uncertain look, he's afraidhe's over-explaining, but then, how much time has she spent in Midgard?
Steve gets the faintest hint of a grin. Well, at least this evening won't mean suffering through something barely edible then making a frantic run for McDonald's, later.
Sigyn ohs happily, "Chocolates. Modern chocolate is just so much better than what they had last time I was here. Thank you! Please, have a seat…" She grins, "I'm used to cooking for Asgardian appetites, but please do not feel like you have to keep up."
She carries the heavy stew pot to the table as though it was light as a feather, and there are two loaves of soda bread already on the table, along with a thick roll of butter nestled in wax paper, rather than the skinny square modern sticks. She clings to small gourmet stores and farmers markets where things are at least a bit more familiar than modern supermarkets. And to her way of thinking, taste better as well.
"There's coffee or tea, whichever you rather… or whiskey or Asgardian mead." Sigyn smiles shyly, "One of the things I've liked about our stays on Midgard is that one isn't expected to drink mead with dinner every night. There's so much more variety."
Returning after the coats are dealt with, Loki lets Sigyn do the hostess thing, she has a t-shirt she sometimes wears that he finds hilarious 'Domestic Goddess', the irony could literally kill! As he settles into his seat at the head of the table, Loki smiles over to her. "Tea for me, if you please." Yes, Loki, the Polite Asgardian! Sometimes.
"So…Captain Rogers, you're looking far better than last we spoke, I cannot sense any lycanthropy on you, it seems the curse has been lifted, yes?" His green eyes narrow a bit as he studies the man's aura, and then a faint frown furrows his brow. He bespeaks his wife, mind to mind. «Scarring on the aura, I wonder if that rite we found in the Ukraine might do?» In like…the thirteenth century!
And then a smile to Bucky. "Ah, chocolates, an excellent choice." He nods to what Sigyn says. "I have a special treat in mind for later, but I want it to be a surprise." And nope, not going to mention the plan to make his wife 'suffer' with a truffle assortment. Nope. "So…James, it has been a bit, I trust you're well? What is new in the 'BuckyVerse'?"
With a hand near to Bucky's elbow, as if he might escort his husband, Steve travels to the table and does seat himself as directed by their hostess. He leans in slightly to sniff at the soda bread — oh, it had to have been baked today! — and memories flash briefly at the sight of the butter itself. Oh, butter: such a pleasure, do people understand it in modern day?
His true-blues lift to Sigyn soon enough, however. "Whiskey, please," the Captain replies to her with another small smile, hands rested comfortably in his lap. "Can't say no to it." There was a fleeting wonderment about having some Asgardian mead, but he'd rather make a good showing than enjoy himself.
Loki garners his attention quickly, however, with his astute observation. "Oh, yes. We found the source of the curse 'nd dealt with it. It's…it's nice to be back to normal. Don't want to chase cars anymore," he cracks mildly. 'Or howl on the rooftop at odd hours of the night', he doesn't add aloud.
Buck's eyes are alight with amusement at that….and it makes it to the surface in the form of a crooked little smile. He's so very much on his good behavior that he's coming across as a little dour, but surely it'll ease as the night goes on. "Tea, please," he says, mildly. Eyeing the food with approval. "This looks great."
To Loki's question, he says, "Well, I'm a lot happier now that I'm not dealing with Steve shedding all over the apartment or eating whole packs of bacon at one sitting. I mean….it wasn't as bad as, say, worrying about him during the war, but it was no picnic. I'm pretty well, thanks."
Sigyn nods sympathetically at the mention of the curse and its effects. "Well, worry is the price one pays for being in love… Especially with someone who refuses to stay sensibly at home and out of trouble. Unfortunately, that's also the part of their appeal." Then again, is she talking about Steve or Loki? She brings a bottle of Irish whiskey that's older than Steve, along with a pair of tumblers guessing that Loki will want at least one drink. A pot of tea (in a crocheted tea cozy no less) and tea cups for herself and Bucky.
The stew is thick and smells divine. Lamb and potatoes, yes, but also carrots and turnips and onions. Sigyn makes sure that everyone has a first bowl, and passes the first of the loaves of soda bread around before settling down with her own plate. «Perhaps. But he's not a magic user, so let us see if the scar does him any harm before meddling? If he was a sorcerer, I'd be more worried.» Her face shows no sign of her silent conversation with her husband.
Sigyn smiles at the compliments to her food. "I enjoy cooking. There have been times and places when I was trying to blend in to Midgardian society, and I found myself in a role where it wouldn't have been appropriate to be in the kitchen, or fuss around the house myself. It made me quite cross, and Loki usually found trouble to get into elsewhere until I sorted myself out."
Loki grins at the men's reactions to his wife's cooking. "She brews all our mead, and beer of course." He clearly approves, and yes, he will in fact enjoy the really old single-malt, because, delish. He approves of the choice not to drink mead - the last mortal they had over had some, it was fairly stressful to her system, of course — Cap & Bucky are /not/ exactly mundanes. Still, the stuff is rough on non-Asgardians. He nods approval, and then smirks faintly. "Of course, there's something very visceral and primal about being Wolf, I have to say it is one of my favorite shapes." And then the smirk becomes a smile. "I am glad you're doing better, though the dinner was rather cozy." In the cell.
He chuckles at shedding and bacon comment. "But…but…/bacon/." He says with dewy eyes wide, before he laughs again. "Oh, I am sure that the worry only heightened the pleasure of the reunions." He observes. "Not a comfortable spice, but definitely an effective one."
He chuckles at Sigyn's not so subtle commentary, and then nods to her mental reply, deferring to her greater healing acumen than his own. Still. "Captain Rogers…if you feel ill, or run down, do let us know? My wife is an /excellent/ healer, far better than I, curses can oft have unpleasant side effects, mm?"
A bark of laughter at her commentary about him getting in trouble. "Nonsense, I am /never/ IN trouble…" A sage nod. "…I PERSONIFY it."
Sigyn's sentiments have Buck glancing her way, quickly. Suppressing a smile, in fact….or trying to, and only partially succeeding. "That's very true," he agrees - having also suppressed a more obscene and fervent agreement. 'Fuck yeah, right?' is hardly an appropriate sentiment for the wife of visiting royalty.
Loki's comment makes color come flaming up out of his collar. About those reunions. Buck's been busily taking Steve to task for neglecting his conjugal duties. "I mean, I don't blame him for eating all the bacon," he adds. "It is hard to resist."
When Loki comments about worry not being a comfortable spice, Sigyn grins at him. "Oh, is /that/ why you do things that would turn my hair grey with worry if I was a Midgardian?" When he says he personifies trouble she just laughs, "That you do, dear heart, that you do."
Sigyn eats with good appetite, though her manners are as gracious as any fine lady's she is not going to survive on salads and mineral water. "Loki is far better at illusions than I am, however, and at unweaving certain kinds of spells. He's got the kind of mind that can find the loop holes the caster didn't close. I'm more of the 'trace back every thread, untie every knot' methodology. Between the two of us, we can accomplish a great deal."
Loki eats with a healthy appetite, his manners instinctively refined and cultured, then again he was raised a prince. He pours a round of whiskeys, adding ice if folks wish it, he takes his that way. "Mmm…excellent choice, I haven't had this in decades." He can't help but grin gleefully at the blush he draws from Bucky. "Oh, thank you." Yes, the blush was a /compliment/ to Loki's way of thinking!
"Not at all, Sigyn. I do these things as they are in my nature, we gods being very much bound to be what we are of course." Though—being a god of mischief, he's more than a little bit free of /that/ particular constraint. It is good to be the Loki!
He nods then. "We have complimentary talents, and have had a long time to hone our magical skills and since we've also studied together, we're VERY good at team casting and rituals in particular."
Steve, proper as he is in public, does pink at his cheeks and ears at the insinuation and the story about eating bacon by the pound. And shedding. Bucky is lucky he doesn't get pinched under the table — must be that impossible amount of patience present in the Captain unless faced with an immediate issue. He contents himself with dipping his slice of soda bread in his soup until addressed by Loki.
"Oh, sure. Thank you, I'll reach out to you if anything becomes difficult."
He falls silent to listen to the casters speak, chewing contentedly on his food.
Ostentatiously, Buck checks the shade of the neatly bound ponytail he's wearing, then looks at Steve. Nope, no silver….not *yet*. "I can imagine," he says, glancing between host and hostess, smiling. Then he's devoting himself to his food in earnest - and the compliment he pays is silent and sincere, in that he's visibly restraining himself from wolfing it down.He's still got the glove on his left hand, soft black leather, so there's no gleam of alloy.
Sigyn doesn't hesitate to serve Loki and herself seconds, or thirds for that matter, and will do the same for Steve and Bucky if they wish. The stew pot is huge, holding several gallons of stew in some faint hope that Loki might not finish off any left over in a midnight snack. Very faint hope. Oh, who is she kidding.
"Please do, Captain. Even when cured, curses can leave a… mark behind. Think of it as psychic scar tissue. But like physical scars, some are just reminders, while others impede. For magic users, it can be serious business. For those who don't, there's often no impact beyond a few bad dreams. But if there is a problem, I'd be glad to help."
Bucky's checking the color of his ponytail earns him a grin from Sigyn. And another piece of soda bread.
A mild chuckle at Cap's pinkening, but nothing more from the Liesmith. He does not graciously to Steve's willingness to call, and smiles to his wife as she explains, and makes it plain they really will help if it is needed. Loki DOES need a refill, and is not shy about doing so, in fact he'll top Steve's and Bucky's stew bowls up if they wish - he'll offer after he serves himself. Manners - very much ingrained, he is a trickster - but GUESTS, well, guests must be treated well.
A snicker at the tail checking. "We can arrange it, just illusion of course, but there's a great deal of fun to be had with such if you're either of you so minded." And Loki does not mind showing off one little bit!
He does grin at his wife. "After all, Illusion and Shapeshifting let me steal my wife fair and square." And then the smile to the others. "Until she caught me of course."
Bucky checking his hair color earns him a flat smirk from his husband. By the subtle twist of the Captain's mouth, he's not saying what's on the tip of his tongue, likely in Gaelic. He'll take a second bowl of stew at this point and another two slices of soda broad, one liberally smeared in fresh butter.
Sigyn is given another nod. "I…there have been some dreams," he admits more to her than to Loki. "Nothing I can't handle." Quick to push aside any concern, the super-soldier, with a quick one-sided smile. He does glance over at Bucky, however, at the offer of illusionary prankage on his…hair.
"If my hair reflected how much I've worried over him, it'd be white as snow," Buck notes, amused. "But I think I'm okay with the world not knowing how much I've suffered." The look he levels at Steve is meant to be accusing….and mostly ends up sappy. Because for all his pokerface, he's awful at concealing how he feels about the big blond.
And concern,there at the mention of dreams. But he doesn't press it, not now.
The meal will continue to the wee hours, food and drink aplenty, and should the duo of Heroes need to spend the night there is a guest room. The pair are honored guests, they'll be extended every courtesy and indulged in whatever way Loki and Sigyn can provide. All in all it is a fine meal, and some of the stories /have/ to be made up, right?