623/Artistic Ennui

Artistic Ennui
Date of Scene:	19 March 2020
Location:	501 1/2 Hill Street
Synopsis:	Sif and Heidi bring news to Loki (Thoki).
Cast of Characters:	Loki, Sif, Heidi Ingerdottir

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Loki has posed:
The entrance to 501 and one half is not easily apparent from the street. It requires some sort of magical sight, permission, or enchanted object. It isn't just sight, either: the place is warded from all of the senses, unless the magical veil is brushed aside.

There's music, a violin, rich and longing, playing as soon as that veil is moved just a little, a gossamer float of notes that lingers along with the magical ambiance that allows the 501 and a half to be seen.

Sif has posed:
" -- and I leave it to you, Lady Heidi, to decide whether or not you should report what you suspect of this...Clint's opinions on matters. I must inform Prince Loki of this Natasha woman's intentions as it stands," Sif is saying as they approach the location of 501 and one half. She's dressed to fit in with the Midgardians today, in a dark long-coat trimmed in golden faux-fur, her hunting boots clicking with purpose on the cold pavement. Her raven-dark tresses are done up in a braided crown at the back of her hair with a few strands left to artfully hang alongside her sharp cheekbones and as such, soften those edges.

"Her choice of whether or not to inform Prince Thor is upon her head." The Valkyrie's pace slows to hear of the music and there's an odd flickering over her features, first mild surprise and bemusement, and then a fondness, as if the song were familiar. Her steps pick up again soon enough and with shocking ease, she softly hums a counter-melody to the violin's winsome weavings. "Mind the gargoyle," notes Sif even as she steps over the hulking mass of guardian upon opening the door.

"Loki, it is I, and I have brought company. The Lady Heidi attends."

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"I would rather mention it than let it become a problem," Heidi replies. Her own garb is Midgardian, a long brown coat of some kind of soft leather, flaxen hair plaited but left hanging long. A little less formal, but she's been trying to blend in a little more. It's not always easy.

As they enter, she smiles slowly, enjoying the sound of the violins. She does, in fact, mind the gargoyle, looking mildly surprised before her attention once more focuses. "Ah, hail Prince Loki." She's not entirely sure she's going to make any better of an impression this time. Damn.

Loki has posed:
Loki is a complete counterpoint to his brother Thor. Where Thor is a brash warrior, it is Loki that is cultured, capable of divine music and delightful display.

501 and a half is far larger inside than it should be, a magical pocket of Loki's design. The lights are dimmed, but the space throughout the home glitters with softened magical fireflies: hints of purple and white, that shimmer and move in swirls, as if there were unnatural magical wind. The motions curl and ebb like tides, within the notes of the music.

Loki is present, and has not halted his playing; the silver violin shines unnaturally in the dimmed space, slightly translucent, though there's no translucency to the music itself, it has a wholeness to the sound: no illusion, this.

Loki himself is a sight to behold: likely entirely on purpose. He's partially seated - on the back of the couch, perched, in sleek dusky black pants, and a loose-collared white poet shirt that exposes most of his upper neck. The brand Odin placed on him is visible, a rune the size of the span of a hand, just near his collar, in gold. His hair is down and loose, eyes aloof, slippery over the visitors. He's in the middle of something, and continues to play. Long-fingered hands are agile and quick, though the notes of the waning music do not require it for now. His expression, Sif will know, does not read of irritation: but those unfamiliar may be unsure if he is, in fact, ticked off at the interruption.

Sif has posed:
Sif, surprised with the visual display of both atmosphere and the current visage of the Trickster himself, still manages to step off to one side to allow Heidi to fully enter the far-grander interior of 501 and one half. Somehow, she also manages to close the door as to keep the entire affair to the three of them.

A delighted headtilt, crystal-clear rather than kept behind courtly masking, comes of meeting Loki's eyes. Her smile is almost shy and almost without thinking, she hums a few more tentative notes of counter-melody to his tune he plays. It's a preface to her greeting: "We come bearing news, Loki, when you are ready to hear it."

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi freezes upon approach. It's like a butterfly has landed in front of her and she wants to approach to observe, but any slight motion might cause it to fly away. Loki is certainly no butterfly, but he certainly is worth observing. It's a presentation, and as much as it feels like an intrusion, you don't perch like that unless it's for someone else. She pauses for a brief second, letting that thought sink in.

Oh. Maybe she /is/ intruding. The music is nice, though. It's been a while since she played anything, the lyre isn't particularly popular in Midgard these days, and she was trying to fit in just a touch more. She does step inside a bit more, just enough to step out of the way, a glance between Loki and Sif. She's not saying anything. Nope. She'll wait.

Loki has posed:
Loki finishes the section of music he was in, with a sleek drifting, ominous note at the end, and then lowers the instrument. His other hand flips the bow around, and he gestures with it in a very royal motion akin to 'begin', as if it were a sceptre.

"Of course," Loki agrees, as if he's arranged the whole meeting, or was aware they were coming. Maybe the stoop gargoyle told him. Very likely. Or any number of other eyes that are on his personal haven.

"Sit as you like," Loki offers smoothly, with anothe slight flick of the violin's bow.

Sif has posed:
Aware of manners, Sif doesn't move to do anything overt as clap overloudly for the display of music or to press a kiss to the Trickster's brow. Still, as she drifts past, her hand dares a glancing touch over the crest of his shoulder, light but present and intimating a greeting unspoken. Heidi gets a subtle motion to follow or join, which she chooses, further into the living room itself.

"I bring news of the Avengers inquiring into your well-being, but...not your brother," the Aesir warrior clarifies as she comes around to sit in one of the plush reading chairs tucked near to the reclining couch. She doesn't shed her coat, content to stay in it for now. "Know you a woman named Natasha, Loki?" Her pale eyes rest upon the Trickster God.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi follows Sif's example, seating herself nearby. Her usual gregarousness is a bit muted in favor of a calm, collected demeanor. This is what she thinks she's /supposed/ to look like in this case. Her hands settle on her lap, resting there as she turns her attention to listen to them both. Her information is an addition, so she waits her turn. So also hasn't heard the exact details of Natasha's interest, so she follows the conversation keenly.

Loki has posed:
"I do know who you mean," Loki answers, smoothly sliding off of the couch after Sif passes by him, moving to the side wall, and adding the violin to the array there. It somehow fits in among other various objects and a few weapons. A wall of curses and danger, rather obviously; it glitters with mischievious potential.

Loki turns back, eyes panning over Heidi, then to Sif. "She is particularly attached to another one of theirs, 'Barton'. That one holds /quite/ the grudge," Loki observes, as if it amused him. "What does she want this time?"

Sif has posed:
"To be succinct from what I could derive of her words, she perceives a stalemate between you and your brother and wishes to end it. She offered aid, I believe, though she also noted that Prince Thor may not know of her intent," Sif relays, brief in her usual manner as is appropriate of one used to acting in the heat of battle -- no time to dawdle with fancy words and presumptions when arrows are flying and people are dying.

"I do not know that I trust her. She did not give me the impression of being as such." Delicately, the Valkyrie crosses her legs at the knee and leans back into the chair, her hands interlaced at her top knee. "I was polite, of course, despite this."

Yes: polite and cold.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi presses her lips into a firm thin line as she thinks. The careful dance of communications, who speaks to whom with yet another excluded, that was a dance she was not fond of. The lack of boldness in direction, no plainness in their intention. She doesn't speak still, but she's certainly listening, certainly thinking. Mulling over what it meant.

Loki has posed:
"What do /you/ think of the Avengers, Heidi?" Loki wonders, suddenly roving his attention over to her. Loki prowls over to Sif... and finds a place to sit. Rather literally, the seat she'd been in expands to allow Loki to sit as well - as if it were magic. Go figure, it's now a loveseat. Because Loki is lightly showing off in front of Heidi. For fun.

"Other than my brother, of course, I would not ask you to speak /ill/ of Asgardian royalty," Loki adds. He glances to Sif, next. "I did find Natasha skulking nearby, in fact, and sent her on an /errand/," he says, abruptly sly, self-satisfied.

Sif has posed:
There's a moment where Sif's composure is jostled by the sudden if smooth expansion of the seat itself -- call it surprise, for that's what it is by the rounding of her mouth and blink -- but she seems pleased enough in the end as Loki seats himself. A faint shadow of a smile appears on her face and her chin lifts too. She gives Heidi an encouraging glance and nods twice, curious to hear what the younger Asgardian has to say about any encounters she's had.

Loki's question takes the Valkyrie off-guard in the meantime. She looks to him, a dark eyebrow arched, and lets out a musical hum that wends about them both. "Do tell, my lord," she murmurs, her tone implying that while she's intrigued, she can be patient.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi can feel the gaze on her and it's a bit intimidating... but the trick with the couch? ... that gets a grin. It's amusing. And it's enough to break the nervous tension. "I have met a few of them," she says, considering. "In general while I am friendly towards everyone, it does not mean I don't have opinions about them and their actions. Wanda, whom I believe is wielder of magic, seemed nice, though she seemed much /friendlier/ and keen to talk at the mention of your name. When I ran into her again, she was with Clint, also called Hawkeye. They seemed very close and he /certainly/ did not like you and practically demanded to know where you were."

She looks at her lap for a moment. "I try to think that people have no ill intentions, but I am also no fool."

Loki has posed:
"I sent her to obtain from Thor /some/ way that he would accept my help," Loki says serenely, not, it seems, making Sif wait for the answer. "She wants to be a go-between, she can run her poor mortal self all over chasing Thor." Loki smirks a little. It also puts the 'ball' in Thor's court, not Loki's. Can't accuse Loki of not attempting to help, either, when he's doing such a great delegation job.

"The price of meddling, should it annoy Thor, is not my concern," Loki adds. Infighting in the Avengers could be a fun time, after all. Good mischief. "Clint is Barton. He wanted to know where I am? Really? I'll have to pay him a visit for that. Hate to disappoint," Loki says, with a lift of upper lip, in scorn.

Sif has posed:
"Ah." Sif nods understanding even as she leans back further into the plush backing of the chair -- nay, couch now. It might seem markedly less than courtly, but she's comforable where she is and with the current company. Her boot toe gets to idly dancing to some tune in her mind, directing the beat even as she glances over at Heidi.

"I should make a point to meeting more of them myself. I understand their concerns are primarily of Midgard and, if they are to aid in relieving you of your burden," a glance to Loki, " -- I feel as if I should inquire." Her attention returns to Heidi again and she offers a small smile. "Would you join me if I did as such, Lady Heidi?"

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"When he seemed so eager to find you, I asked if there were perhaps a message I could pass on to you instead. He declined, saying he'd rather tell you personally if he saw you," Heidi says. She lets her gaze shift over to Sif shortly after and her lips curve up into a bit of a smile.

"I do not think that would be such a difficult thing to do, Lady Sif. I mentioned that I had yet to meet Prince Thor, Wanda was very kind to invite me to their mansion to speak and perhaps to meet him. I believe the words were to 'come by anytime you like'." She gives Sif a nod. "So I would be more than happy to aid you in this, Lady Sif."

Loki has posed:
"'Have yet to meet Prince Thor'? How dreadful," Loki says, in mock horror.

And then... Loki promptly shapeshifts. It's not immediate, it takes a few seconds, as if he were being languid and relaxed about doing it. Loki doesn't generally shapeshift directly where others can see, since calling attention to how /good/ he is at it doesn't usually help him. But the god is mercurial!

The shapeshift? Loki's form ripples, hair turning pale, build changing entirely, as he emulates his brother. Thor.

Shapeshift completed, along with clothes into one of Thor's more ordinary Midgardian clothes styles, Thoki rests one muscular forearm on the back of the couch, and inclines his head to Sif. "Why wait?" Loki questions, in perfect emulation, and brash friendliness.

Sif has posed:
"Wonderful. We shall plan on attending to the manor soon. I think it wise not to wait much further. I suspect the Avengers will be discussing affairs perhaps even as we sit here."

When Loki begins the process of changing his guise, the Valkyrie glances over with little to no surprise at first. She knows well of his penchant for pranks based on the shape or form of another being entirely very, very well. That it turns out to be Thor has her lips twitching between surprise and amusement a few times and her attention flicking back to Heidi. Oh, this might be fun.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"Of course, Lady Sif. I can make myself available at your earliest convenience," the aspirant Valkyrie replies to Sif. But a moment later, Heidi's eyes light up. That's a trick she's never seen. And that's /fun/. She gets to her feet, a half-step taken in Loki's direction. She's daring to get closer. She stays a polite pace away, but she's taking the opportunity to observe 'Thor' in a way she probably wouldn't do in front of him. "Is this what he looks like?" She tilts her head to the side. "I described him /all/ wrong in the poems."

A pause. "Yes, I certainly did do a better job with yours, Prince Loki."

Loki has posed:
Sif may see the 'dangerous' spark to Thoki's eyes as this new game. He may or may not be playing nicely with others, but if he stays in 'character,' they might be just fine. He stretches out both legs, taking up a ridiculous amount of space with his large self, and dumps his cheek onto one hand, elbow resting on the armrest of the couch. "Pray, regale with what adjectives you used to deliver my valour and determination in the face of adversity?" Thoki asks, staying entirely in character.

The prince lifts one hand to rake blonde hair back, and lifts one brow sideways at Sif, as if daring her to laugh.

Sif has posed:
That Heidi comes closer to see this new intrigue is enough to make Sif straighten in place on the couch almost in a subtle readiness. Most don't DARE this as reaction; she's no longer used to it on Midgard proper. She looks from the young Asgardian to this Thoki vision at the mention of poems. The mirth is a faint curl at the corner of her mouth, a twinkle in her normally-cool eyes, and when confronted with the lackadaisical display of behavior from the not-quite-Thor?

She has to look away and briefly down to one side, proof of hidden merriment. Knuckles rise to press against her berry-red lips as she leans her elbow on the couch's arm and dares to look back at Thoki again. Now, she's waiting to see HIS reactions to the particular word choices offered.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"Ah, the poetry was meant to be a chronicle of adventures on Midgard. Granted, I only had second and thirdhand knowledge of the incidents in question so... I am not entirely sure the portryals were accurate," Heidi smiles a bit sheepishly. "Thor's poems were more..." She wets her lips as she tries to think of appropriate terms. "... brutal? The depiction of fighting seemed to go over well with readers, so I focused on that. I believe 'his blood-spattered face turning towards his many enemies' was in there once or twice. I did try my best to stay accurate to the accounts given to me."

She, for the moment, seems much more relaxed in sharing the tale than she might have been a few minutes before. Midgardians don't always have the same reaction to poetry, she's found out, so to discuss them in any amount of detail is something she actually appreciates--even if it embarrassing as to the content. The enjoyment tips the scales.

Loki has posed:
"Brutal. Such wordsmithery rings of truth," Thoki declares loudly, turning, and /daring/ to set his princely feet across Sif's lap. Perhaps just to see if she'll play or not. He did, of course, catch her press of knuckles, and is moving to engage her further. He does the action as if he expected a princely footrub.

"For mine enemies quiver at my very glare, soil themselves at my approach, and flee in terror: that that is ere before they even partake of my breath," Thoki continues grandly. "You may use mine language in your poetry."

Sif has posed:
And then there are Thoki legs across her lap like they belong there. Sif sits up taller yet, her knuckles breaking contact with her mouth, and she gives the shifted Prince a more intent look. Slowly, her eyes lid at him and then her palms fall to his shins rather than his feet.

"Truly, excellent word choices, Lady Heidi," the Valkyrie commends without an ounce of jest in her tone as she smiles at Heidi. Her fingers get to working at the muscles running tandem to the long bones of the Trickster's shin lightly. "I might one time come to you about music, perhaps, lyrics to harp. Next we have time spent for ourselves, I shall play you the composition I have been working on and if you find muse in it, I shall be honored."

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi returns fully to her seat, slowly beginning to contain her smile of amusement. The Thoki performance was certainly an amusing one... and it was probably going to be very difficult to keep a straight face when meeting Thor now. /That/ would be interesting. "I shall commit the words to memory and be sure to use your words well, my Prince. All shall know of your deeds." The smile may have been hidden away, but her eyes are always smiling. It's always hiding below the surface.

A tiny bit of a smile is offered towards Sif this time. "I would be very honored, Lady Sif. I am certain that any composition you have created will have merit and that I shall certainly try to think of something worthy of it. It has been a long time since I have worked on any music."

Loki has posed:
"I believe," Thoki declares, "We should /all/ go visit the Avengers. Surely there is hardly one problem with that." Just tons of them, of course. Whether Loki is serious or not....?

He isn't. "The pair of you do go with mine support and grace," he says, stretching out his feet even more gracelessly in his emulation of the brash Thor. "And but a word on your lips to draw me to you, should you have /need/," he chuckles softly. Meaning, Loki MIGHT be spying.

Loki /will/ be spying.