16377/Story time

Story time
Date of Scene:	19 November 2023
Location:	Palace - Asgard
Synopsis:	Frigga gets to thank MJ/Sonja properly.
Cast of Characters:	Mary Jane Watson, Frigga

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Mary Jane Watson has posed:
It was the invitation that one was honored to receive. Requested to come to Asgard for the second time in her life to speak to the All-Mother. Mary Jane had taken the time to put on the best conditioned field uniform she could. Formality was something she could perform, but the SHIELD dress uniforms were travesties and she had a feeling that the All-Mother would find combat garb acceptable for something. So she would arrive, being lead towards the appropriate hall, once more looking far into the skyline of the golden city as she would head towards her goal.

Large sword over on her back, heavy metal batons that were her secondary melee weapons strapped over as well, a standard SHIELD sidearm at her hip. She would be heading along, keeping her head low and respectful while enjoying the cityscape.

Frigga has posed:
It's true; the Golden City is breathtaking. The view from the Bifrost can be breathtaking, the tableau showing life as it possibly could have (partially) been so many, many centuries ago on Midgard coupled with bits of remarkable technology. Citizens move through the city, carts pulled by sometimes obstinate donkeys, dogs are running the streets, as well as children, their voices rising with laughter.

The war so recently fought is all but forgotten in those children.

MJ is escorted, of course, and she does gain a few looks, some of the children skipping beside the guards, questions running a thousand miles per second. The guards are kindly, offering softly gruff responses, and tossing sweets such that the little scamps run to get them.

Up the palace steps, and into the Palace proper, the booming voice of a man can be heard from the throne room, and if he receives answer to his words, it cannot be heard. Instead, there is obvious response in the 'silence', a softening to tone, the words themselves lost in the distance.

"The All Father is in the throne room. We are to go to the garden." The very sound of Odin's voice has an effect on one of them, and he's more than happy to leave the immediate vicinity. There is definitely some fear and a great deal of respect for the King.

To the garden, then, Frigga is actually present, and she has a tea set of silver, with cheeses, fruit and breads upon the service. As the trio arrive, the All Mother nods to the escorts, thus sending them away silently. It is then that she speaks, her tones soft and by now, familiar in their warmth.

"Thank you for coming. Please, be seated.."

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
There has always been war and conflict. It always changes. But it's a consistency not only to humanity and those of the Nine Realms that connect to Earth.. But amongst all the alien civilizations that Earth has ever made contact with. And yet everyone in Asgard seems caught up in revelry. Chlidren playing. Warriors practicing and telling stories. Parties along the streets and raucous celebrationsa mongst family and friendship.

She's used to getting looks and has long since learned how to passively dismiss them. Admitteldy looks from an entire crowd of beings who almost all tower over her by a foot and severely outbulk her and carry weapons beyond even what Sonja can fathom is a rare enough thing. But she has been out of her element enough times that in this peace she finds tranquility.

She would nod over at the guard taking her. "Of course. Thank you for your guidance." Not sure what the formal term is to refer to a warrior guard - is it belittling to call him a 'Sir' or not? And it feels somewhat inappropriate to call him a term which may be above her statioan.

She would look in the distance at the Throne Room in passing while going towards the Garden. In Sonja's mind there are memories of a time long since past, when the gods were distant from the Earth. Whehter in disconnect and exile or simply not caring of the realm underneaht them. A long, long time ago and a story of brutality far, far away in the past.

"Thank you for the privilege of coming here, All MOther." She would give a formal, stiff bow to the Queen and then move to take her position where instructed.

Frigga has posed:
The gods that dwell here, on Asgard, have been mostly forgotten, save but a few, lost to stories of mythology from a people from 'long ago'. They do live, however, and that society of old continues as it has for millennia. It can be felt in the buildings, in the grounds, in the air itself.

Frigga looks up at MJ/Sonja and there is that genuine smile that reaches those clear, keen, intelligent blue eyes. Those eyes that have seen much that Sonja undoubtedly has.

"I do so prefer it to the noisy streets my sons seem to prefer." There's humor that lies there, complete with the soft 'hmm' as she considers the words just spoken. "Well, one, anyway.

"Take what you would like; it is the last of the celebrations for the return of our Daughter." The Valkyrie. "She too eats well in the Halls."

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane Watson would nod over at Frigga and move to sit, going to a formal position as she would take her position. For Sonja's mind, there are memories of the little scraps of civilization from her own era of ashes. None of which lasted. All turned to ash and ruin throughout the ages. Leaving almost nothing behind to remember it by. For the best. Recollections of the past are nudged aside as she focuses on the present.

"I can see the preference, All-Mother." Her views being ever so different in the matter - but caught up in the majesty of Asgard, and she could very well understand the point. "I am glad that your warrior has found her peace and that she has the ceelbration of her life well lived."

Frigga has posed:
"With your aid, and I do wish to thank you properly."

Frigga rises from her seat now, and turns to take a few steps to a table. There upon the table is an item, short and straight, wrapped in linen that looks like it came from the looms of the Vikings. Picking it up in two hands so it lies flat upon them, she walks it back and stands before MJ.

"It isn't much, and I fear that it may be more a cultural oddity than of use for you, but this is her sword; the one that she carried during her time on Midgard. As a token and a reminder of what you did for her."

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane Watson would bow over and lower her head in respect. "You owe me nothing, All-Mother. Her place was at home, as were her memories and her duty. I merely helped carry her off to them. It is what I would wish would happen to me when I fall." not that she has anywhere specific she would want to go that has meaning. Who does she care about? Who would come? Peter, Aunt Anna, May. Few others that strike her as the ones that would mourn. She does not mind. Her path is her own.

"Thank you, All-MOther." She would go to one knee then to accept the blade, carefully moving to inspect it and take it in her hands. "It is an honor. I shall remember her sacrifice and her blade will be held and treasured."

Frigga has posed:
"When the day comes when you fall," Frigga looks intently at the young woman before her, as if looking through and seeing that lost warrior maiden inside, "you will have the choice if you wish to come to our Halls." Not an invitation given lightly. A soft, gentle noise comes from her, and when MJ takes the sword from her hands, she nods, "There will be many that come for you."

Frigga, the seer.

The obeissance given is accepted with due grace and gravity, the offer to rise given in silent gesture. Once again, she gestures towards the seat and the refreshments. "You and I have not had the chance to speak. Usually, it is the other, and while I do value her duty, she is hardly one to tell me the happenings of Midgard. So," Frigga sits once more, and pours tea for the pair, "tell me of life. I have heard of SHIELD. Are they well? Is Captain Rogers well?"

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane Watson would bow her head, "If that is my fate, perhaps. I do not know where I will walk or where I will travel. I merely hope that I leave a story when I do." A story does not have to be a good one or a bad one. It does not have to be a good death. It does not need to mark the end of a good life. Sonja knows well what she has done - where the faded fragments of her memories have lead her and shown her. Mary Jane knows full well the risks of the path that she has taken her life in.

SHe knows full well where things will go. She cannot say her life will be good deeds and worthiness. Merely that it will be a story. And that is all she can ask. "Captain Rogers is well. I don't interactw tih him much beyond having been in the same room. He's an.. Inspiration. The most honorable and just man you will ever meet. He's up there with Superman." And even then Superman is among the strongest in the world. Captain America is just the best that a human can be.

Frigga has posed:
"We all leave a story," Frigga returns. "The best of us and the worst of us. Regardless, your stories will be sung, they will be recounted around the hearth fires. Isn't that all we can truly ask for?"

The brief report on Captain Rogers gains a hint of a smile. "He is well loved here as well. One of the few of Midgard that Odin respects as a leader." Frigga shrugs lightly, and is more than ready to go on to the next bit of niceties. Tea, sweetbreads and pleasant company, if only for a little while.