4010/Conjugal Visit

Conjugal Visit
Date of Scene:	03 November 2020
Location:	The Raft
Synopsis:	Amora visits the newest prisoner of the Raft, Troll. They speak, in a fashion. Threats, blood, and an understanding.
Cast of Characters:	Gunna Sijurvald, Amora

---

Gunna Sijurvald has posed:
The Raft=The Raft is a huge walled city built around a small, high-tech prison. It is built to handle the most powerful villains known to man. Separated clearly into two wings, the male and female prisoners are segragated at a force fielded zone down the middle of the dormitory wings. A 15' gap is required at all times from that barrier. Violaters will be stunned.

The Raft has many facilities. The lowest levels have the workout gear that can be safely used by even supers, along with the restraint tech for those types of inmates. The upper levels are largely for the less dangerous, with the top level being for staff. There is a large courtyard, but even that is tightly patrolled.

Deep within, on the bottom level, the guards discuss a new prisoner with trepidation. "She's so WIERD," says one; this being the female wing, the guards are also female. "She doesn't talk, she just sits there and sleeps."

"Well, she just got here. I've got a meal on the way for her, so...relax?" "But, she keeps bending the bars!" "The force field is a backup. Stop panicking." "I'm not panicking!"

They're both panicking. Because the Asgardian prisoner seems bored, hasn't spoken a single word since arriving, and sits in the corner of her cell, ignoring the furnishings, and glowers. She is not yet impressed with this place. Not impressed at all.

Amora has posed:
Enter the 'new' guard at the Raft. Amora had heard of a certain trouble involving trolls a while back, for now that she was assigned to the Asgardian embassy as an ambassador of sorts it meant keeping both a close eye on anything that might relate to Asgard and .., actually solve it if needed. But this particular event..., well.., she had been expecting it already. Call it a wizard's intuition? Or maybe she had a hand in having these trolls down here. The one of interest had lived afterall and so here she was..

But anyway, new guard she was saying. A bombshell of a blonde dressed in these ugh.., guard outfits. So drab. But she was willing to do some sacrifices. So her confident steps were heard making way down the hallway to the two guards. A dazzling smile appears on that perfect expression of hers.

"I shall deliver the meal to the prisoner." She offers. So generous, words so enticing. Her hand extends to receive the food tray. And such confidence out of this new guardswoman. She takes the food tray and offers the two guards a faint grin, "Pay me back with a coffee back at the cafeteria." she adds, so new and already so complicit with the guards! But that's Amora, making 'friends' everywhere.

She starts on her way down the hallway to where the 'Troll' is at, her steps heard approaching and nearing the entrance to the cell. Her eyes fall on the prisoner and she studies her intently, silent and waiting, perhaps fishing for a reaction.

Gunna Sijurvald has posed:
"Don't get too close! Thanks," the guard on the left calls out. She clearly has no defenses; so easy, these mortals. No challenge at all, they walk away without trouble. Leaving the new guard alone with the prisoner, as she intended it to be.

Inside the cage, the prisoner sniffs the air. She wears a medical gown, her new prisoner clothing not having arrived yet. She lacks her furs, her weapon. But not her spirit. The slight growl from inside says that she is not fooled so easily; She can smell Asgardian, and is not impressed with the scent on the air.

The eyes, wide and pretty, are suspicious. She licks her teeth in preparation. This is not an easy one.

Amora has posed:
Crystal blue eyes inspect the prisoner, watching the figure, bearing the eyes. She focuses specifically on those. It's as she suspected, this is no ordinary troll. But that had been the intent all along. She knew that particular asgardian prison had someone .., of interest. So matters had been arranged..

"They have not treated you well, have they?" She begins to talk slowly, her dialect very close to the one used by trolls (at least those that speak), full of her asgardian accent of course. But she has learned. How could she not when she hangs with Loki so much? She made sure to learn from him, no matter how she may feel the species to be a low one. But knowledge *is* knowledge.

She makes way to the prison bars, looking around the defenses.. Rather impressive for a Midgard prison, but she had learned not to underestimate them.

"Do you have a name, young one?" Her tone is kind now, almost caring. Doing what Amora does, using her words to convince and get into others good graces. Of course that the natural distrust on Troll might make that rather hard to accomplish. But Amora likes a good challenge.

Gunna Sijurvald has posed:
The curl of her lip tells the tale. There is little trust here. Which is fair' trust is either earned, or stolen. It is never free. The fingers of one hand press into the metal of the floor beneath her, leaving gouges. She could escape; the silly force fields only guard one route. Why does she not? Why stay in a cell?

The prisoner to one side peers in, a protective look in her eyes. She looks away with the slightest touch of magic, but already she shows a hint of loyalty. There is a bond between them, without words. The guards are the enemies. Prisoners are family.

"Troll is Troll," says the youth, in Asgardian. She doesn't play Amora's game, not yet. But she pauses, as the scent of food reaches her powerful nose. She stills her aggression. The simplicity of it is obvious. She hungers.

Amora has posed:
The reply in Asgardian makes a radiant smile appear on Amora's lips, as if she was proud of the prisoner. She approaches the bars further, "So you speak our tongue. And perhaps you call yourself Troll, but you are not one, are you?" a pause as she looks the girl over again. "Well, not entirely." the contrasts were evident. And those eyes fooled noone.

"But first, eat. I would not wish to discuss much when I see you in the pangs of hunger." The 'guard' opens the food entrance and slides the tray in so Troll can reach it. She takes a step back, as if showing she means no harm or that she is challenging for the food. She patiently waits.

"You could easily escape. Such a mystery on why you decide to stay. Is it the free food?" She wonders. "Or .., a sense of familiarity.." yes, the girl had been inside a prison for Odin knows how long. Familiarity could be a thing.

Gunna Sijurvald has posed:
The girl had been there barely a day. She had been fed, but not yet clothed. Her youth gained her a protective instinct; these mortals, females all, know how to care for a child. Though the males across the way look upon them with possessiveness, they can not approach. She is, oddly, safe here. Her instincts know it to be true, but the wildness in this place is also welcoming.

Troll is no tame creature.

The food coming into range is reacted to without pause. She doesn't hesitate, moving forward on hands and toes with the speed of one who has had to grasp food and fight for it her entire life. She eats with her hands, not recognizing the use of utensils. It is not pretty, and she licks not only her plate but also her tray, and anything spilled on the floor is picked at and eaten. She clearly hungers still, but there is no complaint. Food has been eaten, thus is one form of hunger assuaged for a time. She has patience, there will be more.

But the opportunism of a hunter also suggests that she will someday be free. Her eyes flick upward to Amora, aware that she is watched. Always aware, and with a pride no matter how she looks. There is no humility in the child, not at all. She dares with her eyes, this is MINE and you shall not take it.

Then she is done. She sits, waiting. Not trusting. Oh, she knows it was an attempt to bribe. She is not fooled so easily. "Asgardian wench," she says, not trying to hide it. She lifts her chin.

Amora has posed:
The woman watches, always studying, taking note of that instinct, the way she doesn't hesitate and how possessive she is of her food, how proud. It tells a lot about the girl, on how she grew up. She can only smile even if it doesn't exactly reach her eyes. She may not be a nice one but seeing one of her people like this. Uff, it almost makes her blood boil. This would not stand.

The dare, the defiance on the girl's eyes is welcome though, perhaps there was still some hope for the girl, the fire of the Asgardian blood in her veins pleasing. That much is seen. She appears to welcome the defiance her chin tilting up just so.

"I am not your enemy here." The woman whispers, gently and caring though as she is then called a wench there is a brow that quirks up. A smirk. She was amused. "Yes, I have been called that many times in the past." with good reason. "And worse."

"You have fire in you. I appreciate that. It means getting you out was not in vain, even if you were the only one to live." Is she lying? Telling the truth? Whatever it may be she seems to imply having had a hand in liberating the girl.

Gunna Sijurvald has posed:
There is a moment when the girl in the cage seems to be poised, halfway to violence. She hears the reminder of her family dying and it shakes her inside. It makes her upset. She visibly shakes it off then, accepting the deaths with an inner strength not seen in even Asgardian warriors. "Meat," she says, her explanation simple. Dead means meat, it means that there is food for the living.

The ones in the cages on either side shudder. They've heard stories, how the girl eats of her own kind. That they might someday become food. It gives her power over them, through fear. She can smell it as easily as Amora can sense it.

Then the girl straightens. She stands, not hunched, but proudly. The medical gown hangs on her like royalty; she is born noble and accepts no less than this. Nakes, she would stand out. Then she walks up to Amora, eyes even and posture perfect, belying her animal nature, yet somehow fitting her still. And slams her fist into the force field, causing the generators to whine in protest. She smiles, sharp teeth at Amora. "Meat," she suggests. That, that is a threat.

Then, in the language of Jotun, she says, ~Why are you not my enemy? What are you to me?~ She is not stupid. It is simply her choice of when she will speak to anyone. Though the fact that she chooses to use a language that sounds like snapping bones and rending flesh is not missed.

Amora has posed:
"You know that's not all they were." So simple the way Amora uses to dismiss Troll calling her dead family meat. But she notes how the girl gets more upset, the shaking it off. It's an impressive feat of self-control. Though Amora is the kind that has learned to read others throughout the centuries. She can see it, almost like an open book. And she likes what she sees. "You remember them still, as you will for as long as you live."

Approaching the cage has Amora cant her head to the side, perhaps curious at what she will do. The threat only makes her bare her own teeth in return. Yes, she is a sorceress but she recognizes a threat, a call to fight. And she has her own proud blood, not want to back away from a battle when it's called on. Even if often enough she doesn't exactly fight those battles *directly*.

"Make no mistake." Her voice is suddenly louder, booming almost, heavy with the weight of her power. "I am not someone to threaten idly. I am Amora, the Enchantress." she finally introduces herself.

"Because you are our blood. Asgardian. *My* blood." She states, no doubt in her tone. "It oozes out of your every pore. The poise, the nobility. We are more alike than you imagine. Perhaps more than you would wish for." a beat, the next part said with perhaps with a more genuine tone than she has used so far. "And .., you do not deserve to face the rest of your life alone." it almost seems like an offer.

Gunna Sijurvald has posed:
She is barely five foot tall. It's hard to tell at times, she seems to stand with the giants, yet there is in truth very little height. The eyes look upward and she is aware that Amora is the taller of them, her voice echoing in her heart. The authority is powerful, and if there is one thing that a primal knows, it is ranking and heirarchical structure. She knows her place.

Thus does she not threaten again. She lowers her hand, but not her eyes. Because she has not accepted the words as truth.

She says it without words. Raising her left hand to her mouth, she bites there, eyes locked upon Amora's own. She bites deeply of her own flesh, then extends her left arm out to her side, straight, palm down. Drip, drip. Blood falls to the floor. It slowly pools, and she watches Amora.

Trolls are taught, from birth. They are taught that Asgardians are the evil, the ones who raid and kill our families. Asgardians are demons. Asgardians are the impossible force, the ones you must stand up to. Troll is Troll.

She bleeds out the Asgardian blood onto the floor, without a word.

Amora has posed:
"Are you going to bleed out all over the floor? Conserve your strength." Amora tells Troll, lips then twisting up into a smirk. "For you never know when I might step into your cell." the implication that she could at any time.

"But I can wait." If anything Amora is a patient Asgardian (unless she is pursuing one of her passions), and she doesn't give up easily. Or at all. Her stubborness is legendary as well afterall.

She takes a step away from the cage as if telling she will leave her be for now.

"I will return. Soon enough. And we can continue to speak. Perhaps you will tell me of your past. I would like to hear it." for how else could she hope to understand more of the young woman?

Asgardian words then fill the air, powerful. There is magic there. The tray with food appears to refill with food again and she turns to begin walking down the hallway, "You do not deserve the same destiny your parents had." her real ones? Her troll ones? Who knows?

But no more answers come, the sound of her footsteps eventually disappearing down the corridor.

Gunna Sijurvald has posed:
The food is eaten. Quietly, until the plate is empty. Licked clean, and the blood on the floor is left there. She's healed; troll blood means fast healing, and a bite is minor. To her it is a sign, that her troll self is stronger than the Asgardian half. Troll healing over Asgardian blood.

But in the end, it comes down to food. Gifted twice from the woman, she eats what is available. And thinks on it, as she licks her plate clean. Because food means life. And meat not hunted is still meat.