4186/You've got to pay the Troll toll.

You've got to pay the Troll toll.
Date of Scene:	20 November 2020
Location:	The Raft.
Synopsis:	Thor meets with Gunna in the depths of the Raft and learns what he can of her and offers to her what is his to give.
Cast of Characters:	Gunna Sijurvald, Thor

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Gunna Sijurvald has posed:
The Raft. While one of the biggest, highest security sites in human history, this prison exists in a state of legend. Harder to escape than Alcatraz, it nevertheless has almost as many escapees as Arkham. This is of no fault of the prison, nor the guards. The fault lies entirely in the size of the task asked of both.

The Raft is a super-human prison, for those who can not be held. Escapes will happen, though today is not about that. On the top level, low-security inmates are allowed some sunlight in the courtyard. Under heavy watch, they walk beneath the force-field grid that keeps them in; even the lowest security level is still terrifying.

Deep below, on the bottom level, a happy group is being led to their meals. The communal cafeteria is allowed to those who have not attempted escape. This includes one younger prisoner, too young to be here at all. But her status is questionable, and really the situation is complex.

Word has gotten around. A hint dropped by one, a slipped word by another, and the fact that there was a breakout in Asgardian jails came to Thor's attention. The fact that this included a problem inmate, also he is told of this. The inmate's name...why she was in the Troll pen? Why was she not willing to live in Asgard, as her heritage deemed? The matrons denied responsibility, the girl was too wild.

We shall see. Perhaps he needs to take a hand of his own, now that the girl is found once more. Perhaps.

Thor has posed:
    Word had reached the ears of the Thunderer though through a variety of avenues. It raised questions, for Ulik had indeed raided Midgard for a time and was captured, then apparently had escaped. Yet it was only recently that he learned of the plight of the Girl Troll, or rather the Asgardian Girl who lived as a Troll. Not even to mention the well-forged blade that had been hers to wield. Yet her current status was a curious thing. Being held now in the prison, held by the mortals in the place called The Raft. A place that Thor would not simply drop by.
    It required some measure of finesse. Such as getting in contact with those in charge, and arranging for a set time, as well as some necessary protocols.
    Which all had been met. The end result? Was when the lights shifted to a brighter hue in the cellblock. When the guards had gone to lock down positions and made themselves ready. And then when the Asgardian Prince called, he was accompanied by two armored guardsmen who looked entirely ill at ease.
    "I'd like to apologize, sir. You know." A beat then the young guardsman murmurs, "About the hammer."
    One hand lifts held out. "Think naught of it, Son of Steven. In a place such as this rules must be upheld for unity. If needs be Mjolnir will be in my hand should the need arise."
    The trio of beings walked down the hall toward Troll's cell. When they drew near the two guards peeled off. And it left only him to enter her line of sight.
    Which might be a curious sight indeed. For he was garbed much as the mortals of the world she had seen. White sneakers, blue jeans, a grey hooded sweat shirt. He looked like but a man. Though he was tall and seemed strong. Perhaps there was a sense if she was privy to such, of power, a hint of ozone to the air. But beyond that...
    Though when he spoke it might be surprising as she likely understood him. "I bid you greetings, child. I am Thor, son of Odin."

Gunna Sijurvald has posed:
"Look at that hair," says one of the inmates. Other cells occupants can see as well, this is not a private meeting. Other comments also are offered; this is the female's wing, and many of the women are as harsh in voice as any man. Thor is flashed once, propositioned multiple times, but only once is he ignored utterly.

Sadly, this last is the one person for whom he actually came here. Inside the cell the dark messy hair over a yellow inmate's uniform does nothing to hide the nobility inside. She has her family's features. Old friends, some of which have expressed their wish to see her whole; whole, and home.

But as noted, there are protocols which must be met. The first would be getting her to actually acknowlege his presence. She sits in her cell, looking at a wall, and occasionally lifts her hand to look at it, as if interested in that more than anything else. He is being intentionally snubbed.

"Should we open the cell, sir?" says Stevenson with a questioning tone. "I'm certain you can handle her, though she hasn't tried to attack anyone since she arrived. Pretty close to a model prisoner actually. Also...do you happen to have her name? We'd like to call her more than just Troll."

The girl actually turns her head then, then bares her teeth at Stevenson. She reacted!

Thor has posed:
    Arms folding over his broad chest, the Asgardian Prince watches Troll for a time. Thor had handled the comments hurled his way, the propositions, and even the flashing with some aplomb. Polite smiles, a hand lifted in acknowledgment, and to the flasher he makes a waggling hand gesture that causes some of the other inmates to hoot in laughter at the Thunderer's casual dis.
    Yet now that his attention is there upon the girl, and with the guards nearby, the Odinson frowns and then gives a nod toward Stevenson. "Perhaps soon, but bide. For now."
    That said he takes up a place at the corner and nearest to where Troll rests. His back blocks her from view from her nearest cellblock-mates, offering them a hint of privacy though indeed not much.
    It's only once the guards are departed, only once they're left alone though surely monitored and observed. It is then that Thor lifts his voice again. "You are of he Siljurvald. A good family. Storied and strong." He leans against the wall. "And I am told you were to be called Gunna. After your mother."
    A pause to observe any reaction before he adds quietly. "I would know what befell you and your mother at the hands of the Magzi."

Gunna Sijurvald has posed:
The young woman, no girl here for all her age may be youthful, picks her teeth rudely in response to Thor's humble questioning. It is perhaps calculated, perhaps a simple being's response, but there are many things to learn from her, even now.

The way she sits tells a story all on its own. There is no humility in her, she exudes power and confidence. This is not a cell, it is her throne. She chooses to be where she is, and the way she looks around is the way the Warriors Three look when they're walking through the halls of Asgard. I could destroy all I survey, but I enjoy it as it is. For now.

Her eyes turn to look at Thor directly. She does not look away, instead she turns her head toward him. The look is the challenge of one completely without fear, but also without forgiveness or remorse. She looks Thor in the eyes, an absolute silence in those eyes, a tiny tinge of green in their depths which is almost jade. Warrior's eyes. For all her demeanor, she is the one on the outside, and he the one trapped.

She does not give him power over her, not even by answering his words. I will choose how we talk, she says. You are not my lord. No wonder the matrons had so much trouble. She has a will the equal of any, anywhere.

Thor has posed:
    For some reason he sees that gaze, sees the way she looks at him, and many others being so dismissed allow ire into their manner. They allow her that control in some ways, though they likely don't entirely realize it. Yet Thor has seen similar looks before, and knows the mindset behind that gaze. For it's a gaze that was his own in his youth.
    So he smiles.
    His eyes lower to the ground, perhaps to hide it a touch. Then he looks back up and meets her gaze once again but with a tinge of sadness to it. "You were found, and raised by the Magzi." His eyes remain steady, "It is a tradition in a way. The people of the Nine Realms. How we have dealt in some ways with Foundlings. Not a common thing in truth, but there are many tales of a child lost finding their way with another culture."
    His head tilts slightly to the side, "One of the Valkyr grew here in Midgard and realized who she was only recently. There is the tell of Svaldr in Vanaheim who was raised by the High Elves. My brother, Loki."
    That stops him for a moment, as if he was still not comfortable with that information despite how long he has known it. He slides his hands into his pockets, brow furrowed. "And now you, and the tribe."
    He looks to the side, perhaps sparing an admonishing look for one of the other inmates who had been trying to get his attention and he at the least gets her to ease some with a look of disappointment.
    Before he looks back to Gunna and murmurs, "It is rare for one with a background such as that to have a chance to know their people of origin. To have this possibility. I know you may not want it now. For right now I can feel the quiet anger in you."
    He shifts away from the wall to stand straight. "But there is time."

Gunna Sijurvald has posed:
She snorts then, lifting her jaw. She is, at least, communicating, but the stance she takes is one of dark humour rather than acceptance. "Troll not viking god. Not Asgard wench," she says, daring to speak in Asgardian. Her words are bitter, almost hateful, and she lowers her gaze just enough to shade her eyes. "Troll is troll," she adds to the end.

Then she bares her teeth, exposing the fact that at some point she'd sharpened them, and it stuck. There is an animal in her, one that will take a lot of work to bring home. But immortals can be patient.

She stands then and walks to the force field that separates them. She chooses to stop. Though it might, it very well might hold her in, she does not recognize that she is held here. She is so very short, barely five foot tall. There is no doubt that she would gladly challenge him, right now, and Mjolnir versus her axe would be her second choice of weapons. Though her axe is not with her now...

One assumes it was given to Asgard. Though with her bond, she probably can call it to her hand.

"Trolls no fear Asgardian. Family dead, burned. Troll now One." She adds something in Jotun, about how the One leads the pack, and she takes that right in her family's name. She probably doesn't expect him to understand it, it sounds deeply ritual.

He can, of course.

Thor has posed:
    Thor makes no conscious effort to change his speech, for it is heard as she would in any case, the gift of Odin, in an effort to bring the Nine Realms together. So when he says to her, it sounds as she would, native and at ease. "The One must at times find another pack when times are dire."
    He does not draw away, does not seem to shift his manner when she gets closer. Instead his blue eyes follow her and he waits to see what her body language tells him. Until then finally he tells her quietly. "You are the One of the Magzi."
    His eyes meet hers should she wish to do so, "Then you have the right to call parley with other tribes. Will you extend that right to me and mine?" His gaze remains level.
    "For if so then I would ask it of you. And in seven days time we shall speak again. But if there is to be parley between our tribes, then no blood can be spilled. Will you abide by this wish?"

Gunna Sijurvald has posed:
When he shows he understood her, she opens her mouth and hisses, almost inaudibly. The snarl that touches her features says it all; that was not for Asgardian ears to hear. Fingers flex into claws, and she places her right hand upon the force field.

The generators start to whine, a higher draw on their power than they'd been doing til then. In the monitor room eyes widen, energy levels spiking..

Because Troll leans back, and slams her forehead into the field wall. Hard, and enough to leave a streak of her own blood on the semi-transparent barrier. The generators start to get louder, and she looks up at Thor, her own blood on her face now.

And she starts to close her hands, trying to rip the field down with sheer force.

Over the speaker, a voice comes into the area. It is Steven's Son, who sounds nervous. "It's okay sir. We've had stronger than her try to do that. Still, perhaps you should consider letting her calm down?" Stevenson knows not to order Thor, but he is definitely nervous. "She's never shown this level of anger, not to anyone."

Thor has posed:
    For a time he does not withdraw. He meets her gaze steadily. Unwavering. Yet there's no challenge there. It is the gaze of one soul on the side of a river facing another on the other side. Though now the current is strong and wild, perhaps in time the river will ease to allow a crossing.
    Yet not this day.
    "I bid you peace, Chieftain of the Magzi." Though as he says that she may well hear it as The One. Yet it will serve. He lowers his eyes slightly, then pushes away from the wall to turn and move down the hallway between the cells of her blockmates. A steady stride that she can tell how far he has reached with the occasional comments and calls of the other women in their cells. Until finally the double doors open with a whisper of compressed hydraulics, then another as they close behind him.

Gunna Sijurvald has posed:
In her cell Gunna wipes her forehead with a sleeve. The wound has already healed, so fast that even Thor would be surprised. Troll blood indeed, and she stops to lick the force field, her own blood on her tongue.

She watches him vanish into the doors with narrowed eyes, his words in her ears. Then she lifts herself, allowing the fields to have their rest. She can get past them if she chooses. She takes what he's offered and keeps it close, the one thing of value he had to give. Respect.

Chieftain. One. I will allow him to name me that. And, for all her hostility, all the differences she's taken into her heart, he's managed to get a foot in the door anyway. Because the pride she has is one he's met before, and she is Asgardian as well.

She sits down, and will wait for sleep. These humans will need protecting as well, and they are hers to watch over for now. In this house of steel and magic.