15188/I Heard You All Were In Danger, So I Came As Fast As I Could!

I Heard You All Were In Danger, So I Came As Fast As I Could!
Date of Scene:	20 June 2023
Location:	The Beryl Male, Manhattan
Synopsis:	Sif's birthday trickery could cause a war between pantheons!
Cast of Characters:	Sif, Alexander Aaron, Kelda Stormrider, Brunnhilde, Vintridr

---

Sif has posed:
Birthdays.

For Midgardians, they were very important. Having such a short lifespan, every year meant so much to them that they felt it was necessary to celebrate their very existence. There were generally friends gathered, cakes devoured, and drinks enjoyed.

For Asgardians, it was very different. Their lives were so long, they simply celebrated life itself. It didn't matter the day. With Valhalla waiting and battles aplenty, there was no reason to limit one's self to certain days of the year only. Thus they were a partying people. When they weren't kicking someone's ass. Or sometimes it was both.

Today was Sif's birthday. It had been suggested she needed to partake of what was done as a Midgardian. And thus she had allowed her friend, Thea, to make all the arrangements. Then sadly that friend had been unable to make it to the party due to her own life but assured Sif that she was there in spirit.

Which had brought her to this place after a few hours of drinks at various spots around the city. Said drinks were all Asgardian, none of that weak-assed Midgard stuff. But now they were here, seated at a prime table near the stage. The Beryl Male. Upon entry, it was a mixed crowd of genders but they shared one thing in common--they were there to enjoy the male dancers who would be performing through the night. As with the other places, they were being provided drinks more fitting with their Asgardian constitutions. By this point, Sif had opted to embrace it and just enjoy instead of trying to maintain such careful control. To say she was a bit tipsy would be an understatement.

She had out her phone, thumbs flying over the screen. Then she hit the send button and began to giggle. That's the only way that sound could be described. A little higher than her normal chuckle or laugh and at a higher rate. Like a chipmunk on speed.

"I just texted a Greek God I know. Told him I'm in danger and need his help." She tucked the phone in her pocket and picked up the tankard of ale. "As though we'd need the help of an Olympian. Bets how long it takes him to try to come and save me?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    One of the most heroic and honorable individuals he knows, Alexander holds Sif in a place of rather high esteem. She is a goddess of war, whose blade has stood against evil since time immemorial. Or roughly one thousand three hundred and three years. Worth of time. Tonight being the celebration of the one thousandth three hundredth and third year milestone.
    He was not aware of this.
    He was aware, however, of keeping a good connection with the Asgardians, despite when he first met Sif and Hilde that he called them Renfesters for obvious reasons. He knew her to be a soul both truthful and strong. So when he received a text message in the penthouse in Manhattan, his eyebrows rose abruptly with a strong measure of... surprise.
    It triggered in him a few texts of his own, sent winging on their way to let people know of what was up and that he was in transit. After a few minutes Sif would get a response on her cell that declared simply...
    << omw >>
    So she had been successful! In her wicked attempt at subterfuge.
    Meanwhile the music continued to play in the Beryl Male.

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
"Ah oh!"

Kelda recognized Sif's manic giggle and didn't try to hide her suspicious look. "What have you done now, birthday lady?" she challenged. Then sniffing, "He'll probably trip on his toga, Sif. Clumsy lot."

Kelda likely had less earthly experience than Sif and maybe Brunnehild when it comes to humans - both male and female. She made no effort to hide her stares but she had made an effort to conform. No floating on icy breezes, no sudden spears of ice appearing in her hand, no backdrop of gently falling snow. It was the least she could do to endulge Sif in her birthday crawl. Besides some of the men were not half bad.

Brunnhilde has posed:
What was life without celebrating a good birthday?

For Hilde it was just another Tuesday but with the caveat that at least she was getting drunk with friends instead of alone. Which was always depressing. But then again she had been a -lot- more chipper after they came back from Amora's tower and she actually had her sword back. The only bad thing? That Amora was out again but can't just win them all.

So here she was enjoying herself and the company of the other Asgardians, something she hadn't done in quiet a while. Drinks aplenty it meant getting drunk. And she was a pro at that. Also an enabler because not many seconds went by before either Kelda or Sif's goblet got filled up again by a rather dutiful Brunnhilde. "Bottoms up!"

It all comes to a pause when she hears the Goddess of War ..., giggle? She peers her way. Then grins diabolically when Sif explains what she just did. "Ooooh, is thaaaaat so? You know, now that Thor is back it's time that we get you out there again. Tell us more about this greek god that you message while drunk..."

She looks at the stage, then at Kelda. "If the toga becomes troublesome we can take it off and put him on stage." she suggests.

Vintridr has posed:
    One of the Midgard concepts that Asgardians occasionally struggle with is that of the 'Designated driver', but having heard of it Vintridr concluded that it showed remarkable wisdom. As such, she's going relatively easy on the alcohol -- relatively being the operative word; the amount she's had so far would severely trouble a mortal -- and resigned to enjoy the show. Both shows, potentially -- a cheerfully drunk Sif can lead to a lot of things, none of them boring.

    She chuckles at Kelda's comment. "I've met the Olympians from time to time; I doubt any of them are likely to trip on their toga easily -- save, perhaps, Dionysus when he's had too many..."

    Hilde's suggestion gets a Look. "While I'm certain that the Lady Sif would consider a good bar brawl a stellar birthday present, it would be rude to our gracious hosts if we caused one here," she points out.

Sif has posed:
"He's on his way." And Sif eyed her phone curiously as one of those thoughts, that only come to mind when one is under the influence of some sort of substance, enters her brain. "If they used proper runes, they would not have to abbreviate everything into letters that must then been interpreted." Thank Odin she had Thea to teach her all these things or she'd have wondered what omw meant.

She tucked the phone away again and noticed her ale hadn't gone down at all after that last sip. A pause as she narrowed eyes at it suspiciously then looked at Kelda. One could almost see the wheels turning in her brain as she considered the possibility of magic being involved. Instead of realizing Hilde had filled it when Sif was looking at her phone. Then a little shake of the head.

"He is a good boy. Probably won't be a toga. But he is very pretty. For an Olympian. Needs to be in a few more battles though." At the suggestion there might /not/ be a brawl, she visibly frowned. "No brawls? That is disappointing. Perhaps we will just start one when we get back to the Embassy."

Even as the announcer came on stage to let them know the review was about to begin.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Meanwhile.
    Alexander has just left the building, pulling his jacket on as he reaches the car park. He checks his watch as he moves quickly toward the black SHIELD SUV that's parked there, slipping into the driver's side and touching the biometric sensor that lets the vehicle key to life. He sends a quick coded message to the agency status update system so that the team on duty know that one of their agents is on an action that's undefined and not agency related.
    Then a few minutes later he's pulling out into traffic. To rush to the aid of his dear friend Sif.

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
Kelda snorts."Are you speaking from a senth..." she looks nonplussed, "sense of solidarity Vintridr or what?" Then a bemused smile lifts her lips as she says dreamily, "Togas are cute on the right figure. We can always hope, right?"

"I'd be up for a brawl," her pale blue eyes crackle at the thought. "It would be a glorious way to celebrate."

With enough alcohol, the Mistress of Storms has the attention span of a leaf blowing in a gale and doesn't notice her refilled glass. Draining it, she straightens in anticipation and turns her gaze on the stage.

Brunnhilde has posed:
"No." Hilde is shaking her head back at Kelda, "She's talking from a sense of being an uptight Valkyrie, that's what..." the former Valkyrie Commander giving Vinnie the side-eye and then taking a good, hearty swig of her mug, all the way that she has to tip her head reallllyyy back, and some of it spilling down her cheeks. Like a proper viking!

"You have lived with them for too long." She tells Vintridr. Because Hilde certainly didn't spend a few centuries away from Asgard too! Nope.

"A brawl is an easy thing to start..." She then says, being quite wise in the ways of starting fights in a bar. Just throw a mug over at that guy's head." she chinjerks towards a table where a few rather muscular men are at, watching the show. "... then laugh when they look your way. It works every time." yes, she's talking from experience. She's also filthy drunk at the moment so the filters appear to be off.

"Are we gettin' the boy his first scars then?" What type of scars though?!

Vintridr has posed:
    Vintridr smiles in fond memory. "They do indeed, Kelda," she agrees. "And I wasn't saying a brawl would be unwelcome -- merely that it would be unappreciated to have one here. If you'd like to have one, I know a few bars where a brawl would be more or less tolerated -- as long as one refrains from using lethal force, the damage is paid for, and everyone leaves before the constables arrive..."

    She sips her rum and coke and turns her attention back to the stage. "... Later, perhaps."

    Hilde's comment draws something of a glare. "And you may have spent too much time living among no one at all, if your respect for hospitality has eroded this far. If you want a brawl, one can be arranged later."

Sif has posed:
The first act was a man dressed in some sort of fantasy warrior gear. Which for a moment caught Sif's attention. Until she realized it was all faux leather and a foam sword. Then she checked out as quickly as she had checked in.

"We see the real thing daily. Tell me again why Thea says this is what Midgardians do for birthdays?" Although the man did seem to be starting to lose clothes and he was making sure to put on an even better show for those at the prime tables. Each getting a little individual attention.

Hopefully he couldn't hear over the music or his feelings might get hurt with this particular bunch of strong women.

She finished off her ale then set the tankard back down with a momentary glance at Kelda. No, she probably was not refilling it since she was having some problems with word selection. That would cause problems with spells, right? She might summon ale and end up with lemonade. And that could lead to an early brawl.

At the offer from Vin, she did nod. "A brawl we shall have. But not here. We shall honor the rules of this place."

Then that attention is on Hilde as she laughs softly. "I believe he has his first scars. Though I would not mind testing his skill. Perhaps we can take him with us to the brawl?!"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    To be fair in the Beryl Male word had spread quickly backstage that there was a prime table of rather prominent seeming women. Or, at the least, very... strong seeming. For they made a rather intriguing silhouette of souls as the lights behind them would limn them for the dancers. So they did get a good share of the attention, even if the tips weren't entirely flowing. For the fact that they were in a prime table meant that a good amount of money had already changed hands.
    Thank you, Thea Queen.
    Meanwhile, a few blocks away, the SUV moved through traffic fairly quickly. Weaving and rolling and darting hither and yon. It wasn't too far to go.
    After a time it rolled up and Alexander got out, the auto-driver pulling the vehicle away and sending it to find a parking space or car park nearby. That left Alexander the freedom to jog on up toward the front of the...
    Beryl Male?
    If the person who had summoned him was perhaps someone else, or someone less... trustworthy. Perhaps he would have some suspicion. But no. His trust was too high for the good Lady Sif. A quick nod was given to the bouncer at the front, the cover charge was paid and soon he was stepping through the front door.

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
Eyes still trained on the stage, Kelda asks loudly enough to be heard over the catcalls and whistles, "Are we going to gift him with a few scars gained in an honorable battle? I don't see why we couldn't do it here."

She truly doesn't see why they couldn't have an excellent knock-down drag out here. Hitherto now, most of her time on Earth has been spent in the colder snow-swept climes inhabited by polar bears or penguins, depending on the pole she was visiting, which might excuse her from her enthusiasm for leaping on top of the table of men that has been eyeing the trio.

As for him being scarred, Kelda puzzles for a moment at Sif knowing if he is or not. "Well, a few more scars on his smooth skin will do him well, I say."

Brunnhilde has posed:
Those words out of Vinnie get Hilde to stare her way, blue eyes narrowing just so right as she is in the middle of refilling Kelda's mug. "Then a brawl it is." the sharpness on her tone as cutting as her blade. But what's a birthday without a little blood, mmm?

Perhaps in respect to Sif's wishes Hilde doesn't outright flip the table but she was close to it, holding the edge of it with some pressure before resuming on filling up the mugs, and then filling up a *new* one. "Just have one mead, Vin." she slides the mead over to the other valkyrie.

And then it's back to refilling mugs. Right now Sif's. "So, what's the story on how you met this Greek God, mmm?" and with Sif's mug refilled she leans back on her seat and relaxes, feet up.

And she doesn't even need to pay for her drinks tonight. Thank you Thea Queen indeed.

Sif has posed:
"We will honor the hospitality given us by the Lady Thea while in this place," Sif says. Since she knows that, despite her urge to draw some blood from someone, to embarass her friend would be a mark on her honor. But they will get their brawl. Just later.

She sips her drink as she considers, mostly ignoring the man on stage. Though others seem quite pleased with his performance as they shower the stage with bills and scream their approval.

Sif answers the question posed. "In truth, I met him in battle." Which probably is a surprise to no one that knows Sif. Meeting someone outside a battle? That would be noteworthy. "I thought he was in danger yet learned that he knew his way around a sword. Heidi Ingerdottier and I helped him destroy a monster. I suspect it was Greek." Because it had to be or why would an Olympian be fighting it. She nodded sagely.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    And as one would speak of the devil, and with so many idle hands in such a location is it a surprise?
    For that is the moment when the discussed Olympian makes his appearance. Perhaps visible and marked should Sif be considering the entryway. And in truth with such an abundance of handsome masculine figures in such an establishment would he be noted or marked without that personal knowledge? Perhaps. In any of the cases, however, he is the tall blond youth who steps through the door, slipping around several of the crowds gathered there. Small circles of men and women laughing and celebrating at the various runways and tables.
    From afar one could see that he was focused on seeking someone out. As he passed a few patrons they made gestures to him, others called out. He smiled and moved away, perhaps holding up a hand as if to stay them. But then there's no missing the table full of Asgardians once he espies them.
    He makes his way over and once there... well his features have a touch of concern. But there is a wariness there as he announces. "Hello, Lady Sif?"

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
"What's a bloody nose or cut lip between friends?" Kelda stretches to bump glasses with the others then puts her head back to drain it. She regards the empty glass, giving it an experimental shake before lifting it to toss over her shoulder. A quick look around at the adjoining tables tells her that no one else is doing that. Well, manners differ. She returns it to the table with a thump.

Just in time to catch sight of a blond youth, better looking than the men on stage. Undoubtedly the Olympian whom she eyes unabashedly. Not bad. She could enjoy splitting one of his high, patrician cheek bones or blacking an eye.

Sif has posed:
As she saw him slipping through the crowd, Sif couldn't hide her happy smile. Then he was there at the table and she stood to offer him a hand in a warriors' greeting. "Alexander. Tis good that you could come so quickly." She doesn't really seem to be in danger though she is in good spirits. Very good spirits. Allll the spirits. She picks up her tankard and shoves it into his hand as an offering. "Drink. Join us."

She waved a hand to each of the women at the table in turn. "Brunnhilde, Vintridr, Kelda. This is Alexander, the one I told you about." Then a little frown. "Though no one took the bet so I win no money from your timely arrival."

But then she knew he probably was going to ask so she explained herself. "I am in danger of being sorely disappointed by this lot." And she waved a hand toward the stage where there was a group number being performed to that song which must be played at every male strip show thanks to that damned movie. "I feared I might burst into tears and embarass myself in front of my friends."

Brunnhilde has posed:
"Where is that girl anyway?" Hilde asks with a look around her, sharp (in reality it's a dull, drunken) gaze, "She needs some meat to her bones.." this said of Thea. No one goes hungry or thirsty in Hilde's presence apparently.

It's when Sif starts talking about how she met Alexander that her gaze gets more serious, specially at the mention of Heidi. She offers a mute nod at this, "She always did love her horses.." this about Heidi. She takes another good swig of her mead, taking note of the young Greek God.

"That boy looks lost. Perhaps we should show him the way." And Brunnhilde was just about to start doing that when apparently it's the actual Greek God! She smirks at this, sizing him up, large blue eyes up and down on his form as if she was getting ready to wolf him down, "Mmmm, nice.." and she gets up to her feet.

"Well met. It is good to meet you even if you disappoint us by not having brought a toga." she laughs. "They must have one in this establishment though.."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The youth has very pale hazel eyes, almost eerie in their small way, but his smile humanizes him as he looks between the other women after that handshake shared. He listens and nods to the words given to him by Sif, and he picks up a few of them, likely puzzling out in some manner what may well have happened. Or what is happening. When she mentions the 'danger' of being sorely disappointed, it clicks into place and his lips curl up a little further.
    "Oh I see."
    He offers in reply, head tilting as he accepts the mug that's been thrust into his arms. He looks down at it and sniffs it, likely thinking... and yup, mead. Asgardian. One of the drinks that does indeed affect him. He bites his lower lip and then lowers his eyes in a form of a bow. "Ladies."
    He says just that at first, then adds. "It's a pleasure and an honor."
    Then Brunnhilde rises and he meets her gaze. The toga comment gets his smile to ease more toward a smirk. Indeed no toga. Though he does have on a typical Western equivalent in this day and age. For he wears the white sneakers and blue jeans of the modern world, along with a black t-shirt that portrays an image of a skeletal pink flamingo for some reason. The brown leather bomber jacket though is nice.
    "Weather's not right for the toga. A little too chilly this late at night."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
"Hail and well met warrior-friend." A few celebratory flakes of snow dance over their table. "We will have no tears this eve despite this poor showing." Kelda gestures at the gyrating men on stage, her hand held high as she compares them to the glory of the god standing before them.

"We celebrate life!" She affirms in a loud voice as she comes to her feet. Part of conforming to human ways, Kelda has traded her long pale blue robes for a short diaphanous version with a plunging neckline. She eyes him more discreetly than the bold Brunnehilde though we with no less avarice.

"Join us then."

Sif has posed:
"Bah. What have you to fear from this weather? It is like saying an Asgardian fears the blade. Silliness." And she settles in her seat but not before stretching out a leg to snag a nearby chair from a table--thankfully the chair was not occupied nor being used--to drag it over to add to the table the women were sharing.

Then she plopped down on her chair, ignoring when it groans. "We had our hearts set on a toga," she said with a sage nod as she picked up the new glass that had magically appeared for her. One of the servers had quickly added the new flagon even as they kept the bottles coming to the table as soon as they were emptied. They were getting paid a /lot/ of money for this night and they didn't even have to supply the booze for the party! Win Win for the business.

"It is our understanding that on the day of birth, one must celebrate. Thus, we are here. Though I admit, I am not finding this part of the celebration particularly entertaining. Our men and women are better looking than this." And she waved a hand at the newest man on stage. "Though there was talk of getting you on stage. I believe that would be worthy of day of birth."

Brunnhilde has posed:
Chilly? Hilde guffaws at that, clearly sharing the same sentiment as Sif where it comes to fear of the cold and weather. Midgard's weather has nothing on Asgard's after all! Specially in those cold mountains ... "Well, he knows his jokes at least.", she nodding briefly before reaching to pat the man's shoulder, "Guile may have been used to bring you here but you should join us. You will be welcome. No matter whether you dance or not."

There. Hilde is so considerate about their new guest. Surprising too! "Would you truly wish to disappoint the birthday warrior though?" or maybe she is just trying to guilt-trip Alexander about it all.

Sitting back down she grins at Kelda's toast, "To life!" and she raises her mug.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Thank you," Alexander says toward Kelda, offering a smile openly. "Well, life is worthy of celebrating indeed." He answers, feeling his own speech patterns being affected by the Renfest virus as he takes one of the offered seats and turns it a little so he can see the others equally so. He spares a half-grin for Brunnhilde, then toward Sif he says, "I was rushing here thinking that something really challenging must have arisen if it was to put Lady Sif in danger. I am pleased on some level that she is not actually in danger. Though sympathetic that this celebration is not as... vibrant as you might like."
    When Sif reseats he half-smirks as she mentions the toga again. If there was a Rubicon to this event that signaled whether or not Alexander would truly join them, well it was that mug he held in his hands. He looked between them. When Sif finished speaking his eyebrows rose. "Day of birth. So your birthday?"
    A quick glance around is given to the others, looking for agreement to his words that it is indeed Sif's birthday. He cocks an eyebrow curiously then looks back. At the prospect of dancing he answers them, "Perhaps best to ask me again in an hour or so."
    The young Greek says with a small smirk, and then he lifts that mug as he answers, "To life."
    With that toast, and with that taste of heady Asgardian mead, Alexander makes his choice.
    The Rubicon has been crossed.

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
"Well met!" she repeats enthusiastically. Squinting her icy blue eyes, Kelda sweeps Alexander from head to foot. "Nice jacket, but I can provide you with an appropriate toga if you wish it."

Squeezing her lips between two long fingers, she judges, "You would wear it well and it would show your legs to advantage."