16849/We're Pirates from the Moon

We're Pirates from the Moon
Date of Scene:	23 January 2024
Location:	A calm lagoon along the Ivory Coast.
Synopsis:	All the cool kids win the thing.
Cast of Characters:	Sif, Wanda Maximoff, Thor

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Sif has posed:
Magic was a finicky thing. Thus, since there was some sort of big spell going on here, the magic users of the group had conferred a bit while the people like Sif--who had not a single magical cell in their body--waited. As the discussion continued on, it was decided that they would find a nice spot to stay for the night. It was agreed that the city was entirely too odd for them to want to seek a hotel room or the like. Thus, they found a little cove out of sight of the city and the looming ship in the distance, to allow them to camp. A couple of them had gone to town for supplies and returned with sustenance at least.

Some had used their teleportation powers to return to their homes for the evening but others remained here on the beach, roasting hot dogs on sticks. And for dessert, they had been supplied with the makings for s'mores.

Which had Sif curious as she pulled her stick from the fire, putting the slightly charred dog into a bun and starting to add mustard, ketchup, and relish to her dinner.

"So why does it not have a real name and instead is just a bastardized version of wanting some more?" she had to ask. For that is how it was coming across to her Allspeak. This weird version of words that shouldn't be combined yet somehow were.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda had been one of those that had chosen to remain here at the beach tonight. Perhaps tired of the confinements of the Avenger's Tower? Or maybe someone RESPONSIBLE having to keep an eye out on the Asgardians before they got drunk and charged the dark elf ship all of a sudden? The truth went a bit deeper, with Wanda actually being someone that had spent much of her life outdoors, roaming back in Romani lands for much of her youth.

Many nights spent in a fire like this with her brother. Her green eyes reflect the fire as she looks pensive into it, lost in her own thoughts for a time before Sif's complaint about the english language gets her to look up and she grins over her way, "Americans." she says, "They have done a great deal of bastardizing the english language. But this one...?" and she points to the smores, "... is delicious."

Another bite is taken from her own hotdog. No mustard or ketchup though. She must be a weirdo.

Thor has posed:
    Allspeak does indeed handle some words curiously. Proper nouns, slang, harsh terms. They all convey some insight into their true meaning and nature. And S'Mores had enough of a cultural identity in the Zeitgeist of Midgard that there was no real translation of it, it was just the proper noun. S'mores.
    Though Thor as he lay there upon the beach, a curved bit of driftwood serving as a pillow for him, looked up at the night sky and kept his counsel to himself. There was tension in him, something similar to Wanda's pensive manner. And the easiest way to mark it in the Asgardian Prince? Was by noting his silence. Sif knew him well enough to gauge his moods and she knew this one well. The period of time before a battle, or when things were up in the air and in flux...
    And when he had naught to do but wait.
    For he hated waiting.

Sif has posed:
She did know Thor well. And to be truthful, she would much prefer to just charge in there. Though they both knew such a thing was ill-advised. Sif stuck another hotdog on a stick, balancing her half eaten one on her knee as she did so. Then she held the stick with her left hand as she continued to eat with her right.

"It truly is. I had no idea such things existed as marshmallows. They are a delight, particularly when slighty crispy from the fire. I believe they will be something I purchase in the future. S'mores or no. Though, the balance of that gooey with the melted chocolate and the crisp crackers." She really should focus on her dinner and not dessert. Though she had started with dessert since she had to know what a s'more was right off.

When she finished eating the first hotdog, she pulled the second from the fire and put it in a bun. Then she kicked Thor's boot and offered it to him. No words. No trying to draw him in as she knew such likely would be futile. Yet, as a comrade in arms should, still trying to be sure he was taking care of himself.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
The difference between Sif and Thor is evident. The way one focuses on other things to not let battle engulf her and how Thor's impatience shows and he's all focused in it. As for Wanda? She just seems to be in her natural habitat. Some food, a few friends. A good night. "Got to enjoy the little things when possible.." she says in agreement with Sif's assessment on why exactly smores are delicious.

And maybe it also serves as a poke at Thor for not enjoying some food himself.

Sif's attempt is a bit more direct though and that gets a faint smile out of Wanda. "I only learned of them when I came to the States. They are -not- good for my form though." she admits.

Thor has posed:
    That casual cascade of thoughts and emotions upon his face were writ with an openness that some rarely seen on Thor's face. Triggered by that slight thump of boot into boot, it caused his brow to knit instantly, good eye narrowing slightly as he shot a glance sidelong. That blue iris tightening, then upon seeing the reason for the boot his expression eases.
    A slight intake of breath, a sniff through his nose, then a hint of a grunt as he goes through the sequence of recognition, dismissal, then grudging acceptance as he finally takes up that proffered weiner. He holds it up against the night sky, peers at it, then bites and chews.
    Around them the lagoon was peaceful, and the settlement as well as the Svartalfar were far off. Distantly through the brush they could see other fires upon the beach, as well as the local sailing ships hove to waiting for the morning to sally out for the catch.
    With a rasp of sand under him he pushes himself upright so he can chew for a time distractedly. Until finally he lifts his voice, "Next time we should get the ones that have the chili inside."

Sif has posed:
"Why not?" And therein was something that might be foreign to many Midgardians. Sif didn't understand the concept of worrying about her figure. She tended to a lot of physical labor. And yes, she knew the concept of a pleasant or not pleasant appearance, but she'd not really ever been exposed to the culture of worrying about her weight. After all, they had various builds in Asgard. Look at Volstagg!

As Thor eyed her, she eyed him right back. Sif just waited him out, continuing to hold out the offering of sustenance. And finally he took it. But when he said those words, she turned to him anew. "Did you say chili inside?" Because she had heard of a chili dog where one got chili poured over the top from one of those men at carts on the streets of New York City. But she was not aware that they had such a creation as chili inside them! "Where does one obtain those?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Green eyes narrow briefly at Sif when she so blatantly disregards having to watch what someone eats. Which then just makes the Witch laugh softly. A very tame laugh as she is not one to laugh that easily. Or often. "Now I am officially jealous." she tells Sif, brushing some red hair from her pale face. Another bite from her hotdog as she ends it at last.

Chili inside though? What? She eyes Thor with a kind of look that's telling she does not approve of this, "Many vendor stalls throughout New York." she tells for Sif's benefit, "Also, you are corrupting Sif with those unholy food ideas, Thor." yes, unholy.

"You have to ease her into Midgard food sloooowly." and then she starts preparing a smore. Little chocolate and marshmallow between crackers, making it with practiced ease. "Do it like so." she tells Sif.

Thor has posed:
    "At the..." Thor gestures with the partially devoured hot dog, just lifting it and moving it around some. "The... merchant's guild?" The Prince says as he looks absently off into the distance, then back towards Wanda and Sif. "That one, where the purchasing is done by those manservants of Stark? A great domicile of goods and services."
    Whatever he is trying to convey he fails to do so and just shrugs a little before finishing that hot dog off with one final bite. Two altogether. He wipes his hands upon his jerkin, then leans back to settle on that piece of driftwood, resting his hands upon his broad chest as he lies a little to the side now so he can see them and still indulge in the conversation.
    He shows no sign right now of wanting to partake of said S'mores, but he is at ease watching.

Sif has posed:
She wasn't sure what merchant's guild he was referring to but Sif was positive she needed to find it. Since she was done with her own meal, she quickly dug into the bag of marshmallows. One went directly into her mouth. As she chewed, the other was placed on the stick and heated in the fire so that it was ready to squish properly. THen it was added atop the chocolate which was atop the graham and another graham placed on top to finish it off.

The bite was pure bliss. Though chocolate and marshmallowed oozed out the sides a bit, she was quick to catch it with fingers or mouth to make sure not a crumb of it was lost. A sigh of happiness as she finished it off and even licked her fingers after.

But then back to the situation at hand. "Jealous of what? You can look however you wish to look. I think you look fine. Albeit a little soft but that is expected of magic users." It wasn't weight. It was more a comment on muscle mass for Sif. "I think someday when I am tired of older, I will enjoy getting a belly like Volstagg." And she chuckled at the image of it as she patted her stomach for good measure.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
First it was jealousy. But now Sif outright insults all magic users by calling them soft! That might be grounds for someone being turned into a toad if this was a different spellcaster. The readhead? She just lets out a grin at the directness. "Talking with an Asgardian is refreshing." that's what they get out of the Witch. No comments on looking soft but she knows they are right.

I mean, she is in a team with Captain America, Thor, HULK. She can look a bit soft.

The attack on the marshmallows truly begins afterwards. Devoured really. The poor things never stood a chance under the direct threat of Wanda and Sif's smores-eating prowess. And even Thor because there's no way he's staying out of eating these. It's like they are calling to him. Magical smores most likely!

Thor has posed:
    And Thor has the gall to back up Sif's thoughts as he nods a few times, agreeing with that sentiment of soft magic-users. Lucky for them that Illyana and Dr. Strange are not there to take Wanda's side. He points at the female Asgardian and says, "Loki..."
    Then there's a pause as he adds, "Amora." He nods a little, good eye distancing. "Queen Featherwine." His lips purse a little as he ponders other 'soft' looking magic-users. Even though if anyone saw any of these people they would be hard pressed to imagine them as _SOFT_. And yet these two Asgardians seem to agree.