6658/The Overdue Fees Will be Huge!

The Overdue Fees Will be Huge!
Date of Scene:	21 June 2021
Location:	Asgardian Embassy
Synopsis:	Caitlin Fairchild reunites with the Asgardian Kelda Stormrider, recently returned to Midgard.
Cast of Characters:	Kelda Stormrider, Caitlin Fairchild

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Kelda Stormrider has posed:
Ever since her return from Valhalla, Kelda had found herself wondering: what had she missed? What was she missing now? Pieces of her memories, yes, but minute pieces filter in day after day like flakes of mica in a stream, tumbling and tumbling and settling into place each night as she sleeps.

Now, Caitlin of Midgard, Daughter of Fairchild, had been a long-standing boon to the Godess of the Blizzards. Midgard had changed much in the interim of her last visit, but thankfully, the young redhead had been ready and able to assist. Ice cream was far more delightful than it had originally sounded after all. In return, the Mage sought to return the favors. This time? With a very interesting...scroll.

"Lady Caitlin." A warm greeting from Kelda as she steps into the foyer of the Embassy. Her smile is small but true as a gleam of sunlight and her glacially-blue eyes twinkle. "So good to see you again. How have you fared?" Comfortable in what appears to be a set of robes in a hue of blue never totally settled, the hems lined in decorative stitched scrolling in silver and waist belted in woven leather, the Asgardian's pulled her pale-blonde hair up and back into a flawless braided bun.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin's quite a courteous person and is very punctual. She's there a little ahead of time in a fairly plain dress, white and daisy-yellow flower embroidery, with a calf-length hem and matching slippers. Her only jewelry is a pair of clip-on silver earrings and a gold bracelet on each write. A fabric knapsack with a faded 'Stark Industries' logo is on the table in front of her. The bag looks like it's survived a few lab accidents over the years.

"Lady Kelda!" Caitlin gets to her feet with a warm smile for the elegant blonde Asgardian, and moves to exchange an embrace with her. "It's so good to see you. It's been ages," she observes. "I'm doing really well. Life's good, the Titans are good, everything's good." Her eyes gleam with a story she's itching to tell once the polite greetings are done with. "How're things in Asgard? Anything new or interesting lately?"

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
"Ages," the Asgardian agrees with a soft if fond laugh. Given Caitlin offered the hug, Kelda returns it in a sweep of arms and impossibly-gossamer fabric alike. There's a scent clinging about her: the frozen petrichor before a snowstorm along with other lighter floral notes. She rocks back a step on her soft-soled boots and listens to Caitlin's updates with the continued presence of the small smile.

A nod for the young Midgardian. "Good indeed, all of this. As to Asgard? Life continues as it does. What issues of the Court remain within and rarely straggle without. But surely you have spoken with others of the realm lately, yes? Prince Thor or perhaps the Lady Sif?" Her white-blonde brows rise. "If not, they will surely have more to say -- but."

And Kelda lifts a single finger gracefully. "I've something of interest to you, I believe."

Reaching into her robes, she pulls out what appears to be a scroll. A //very// old scroll. "This was once of Midgard. I do not know how or why it came into the possession of the Royal Library, but I believed it of more use to you and your people than to sit prettily with ours. The author of the treatise is Archimedes. I believe it goes in deep detail as to the working of devices similar to the one named the 'Antikythera mechanism'."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Archi--" Caitlin breaks off with eyes going wide, and takes the scroll with a careful-- almost reverent-- touch. "Holy smokes, I should probably be wearing gloves," Caitlin mutters. She examines the scroll very carefully. It's old vellum rather than paper; it weathers the millennia far better than most modern writing stock would.

Her hands work in opposite motions to unwind the scroll and reveal the first lines of text. "How on Earth did this wind up in Asgard?" Her Greek isn't great, but fortunately a few years of living with the Amazons has helped her learn to read it-- particularly older and more obscure dialects than haven't been in use for a few millennia.

"This describes making clockwork spheres to track the planets," Caitlin concludes after a few moments. Green eyes are glued to the page. "This is incredible. I mean the engineering than went into the Antikythera mechanism, it was /so/ far beyond what engineers thought Greeks could do--" she looks up at Kelda and smiles fondly. "Wow, and all I brought you was ice cream," Caitlin says apologetically, and digs a container of homemade strawberry out of her linen knapsack.

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
It's one of life's simple pleasures, Kelda decides, to watch the owlish look take over her friend's face. A nod confirms clockwork spheres as the topic. Slowly, subtly, the Ice Mage's smile deepens by a noticeable amount.

"I am quite content with the ice cream, Lady Caitlin, do not be concerned." The container of homemade goodness is taken and considered; Kelda unscrews the lid to sniff at its contents and sighs in appreciation. "...and of the berries I appreciate so much. You are so thoughtful." How the ice cream isn't melting is more than likely a sleight of hand involving colder air around Kelda's hands now. No need to ruin fine carpeting with overly-warmed deliciousness. "As to //how// the scroll wound up in Asgard..."

Her shoulders rise and fall. "I can only assume of our scholars and interests in this information in turn -- or perhaps an attempt to spare it from destruction. If I remember the history of Midgard correctly, there was a time when the Library which held the scroll was under seige by many enemies of knowledge."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Uh.... yeah..." Caitlin's lips move along while she's trying to translate the scroll in her head. It takes her a second to jar her awareness away from it and smile ruefully at Kelda. "Yeah," she agrees, nodding. "It was burned down and the index of scrolls was lost. So we don't even know for sure what happened to all of them, if they were relocated ahead of time or stored somewhere else. Really terrible tragedy, like one of the worst losses of human wisdom in centuries. I don't understand why anyone would tear down a /library/. It's so senseless."

She casts around, and finds a linen cloth that's not in service. It's carefully wrapped around the scroll to protect it and Caitlin empties everything out of her bag to ensure no pens or cosmetics will leak on it.

"This was way too thoughtful of you, Kelda. I really appreciate it," she says, with all the earnestness she can muster.

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
"Your pleasure is mine in turn. As I mentioned, it was sitting and gathering dust. You are one of the brighter minds of this world, Lady Caitlin. Let it be inspiration for you and others you know who may make better use of it," the Lady Stormrider bids. "I cannot imagine what would bring such a decision to bear, the destruction of such swathes of wisdom in a library, but it would do me no harm to further search the Royal Library as well as Archives for further scrolls of this nature -- from this...Library of Alexandria, yes."

Thank goodness for the Midgardian habit of needing a coffee cart in the sitting room. It means Kelda can wander over and pluck a spoon from the ever-kept cup of cutlery. Of course she's going to sample the homemade ice cream. "And has any suitor crossed your path or eye as of late?"

So few Asgardians can give such charmingly innocent looks as Kelda, she well-taught in the courtly arts. Never mind the way she's literally spooning ice cream out of the container right now.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin snorts indelicately at the polite question. "Yeah right," she responds, taking the inquiry as if is a humorous one. "The only people lining up to date me are weirdos or desperate," she observes. One of the items removed from her bag is a silver thermos of some kind; Caitlin uncaps it and takes a few sips of the protein shake kept chilled inside, and even allows her shoulders to rest against the back of the sturdy Asgardian chair she's in.

"I broke one guy's toes last time someone asked me to dance at a fancy party. So I either settle down with someone very fragile by comparison, or I date in the cape community." Fingers flutter vaguely at the superheroes of New York. "And from what I've seen from the dating in my friend's pool, the fallout from that can get a little cataclysmic. It's just easier being married to my work," she says, and wrinkles her nose a little. "What about you? Anyone new in Asgard? Golly, dating there must be /weird/," she observes. "Only a few thousand people, yeah, but... everyone's like a thousand years old. That could get awkward."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
Caitlin snorts, Kelda hums quietly to herself. Homemade strawberry ice cream: one of the simple pleasures in life. She tilts her head and listens as a good friend would -- and as a good friend should, does not laugh at crushed toes or disastrous dating pools.

"Awkward, is it?" Now this is something to //very nearly// make the composed Asgardian break to laughter. "You've a valid observation in the smaller number of my people, but as you yourself noted, there is more than a single option when it comes to prospective suitors. I admittedly have not entertained anyone for a date in some number of years now."

The number of which, she won't share, thank you very much.

"I admit to having standards which must be met. But you pique my curiosity with your wording: cataclysmic. Do you friends deign to date none other than apocalyptic beings? This seems foolhardy if potentially anything but bland in turn," the Mage notes, her smile somehow coy in Caitlin's direction.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Uhh... aahh..." Caitlin backpedals a bit as Kelda forces her to clarify the offhand statement. "I mean, no, not... /specifically/, but like..." She considers the floor, then the ceiling, and shifts around to unhook her ankles and switch their order in front of her. "I was caught in deep space last year for a few months. People thought we were dead. My friend Donna was with me. You know, um, Raven, right? From the Titans?" Caitlin gestures vaguely. "Raven basically told Donna that if we didn't find a way home, she'd rip the universe a new hole and ... it'd be really, really bad, and she'd do it if we couldn't find a way to get home, soon."

"And that's Raven, I mean, I've know her forever, but how terrifying is that?" she confesses. "'I love you so much I'll destroy the universe before I lose you'. There's either a lot I don't get about relationships, or relationships are even more trouble than I imagined."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
Kelda's eyes admittedly widen when she hears what adventure (trauma?) the members of the Titans endured in the depths of space.

"I cannot say that I would //not// go to such extremes were a lover of mine in such peril, but this does ring of a finality which should be carefully judged," the Ice Mage agrees. "I see now why you chose the word 'cataclysmic'. Perhaps you might find a lover who does not hold such...titanic grudges against things they cannot control?" Caitlin gets another understated smile before this disappears into a spoonful of strawberry ice cream. "But there is no terrible hurry, dear friend. All good things in good time, yes?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Right?" Caitlin says, in vehement agreement with that last point. "See, that's my feelings on it. I'm going to sit back, and relax, and the Lord will provide," she says with a breezy self-assurance. "The right person will come along and they won't just be looking for something fast and casual to turn conveniently long-term. Plus as I said-- I am kinda busy," she points out.

"Oh! I got sidetracked. Big news," she tells Kelda, and sets her drink aside to hold out her wrists. The golden bracelets upon them have a metaphysical mass to them that exceeds the weight of precious metal-- and from the subtle difference in how they catch the light, the bracelets are very far from something as simple as gold.

"I've been welcomed into the tribe of Amazons," she explains. "Diana and Donna and their mom an' all. I've been adopted." The smile that wreathes her features could power a solar station.

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
"This is true." Easy agreement about Caitlin being busy. Everyone in the cape community seems busy these days, Kelda muses to herself, though she's easily snapped out of it by the sudden surge of enthusiasm from her friend. Brows lift promptingly. "Big news?"

The bracelets on show are considered once and again. Kelda's mouth parts as if she were thinking about a guess as to what they are and their significance, but remains silent to have Caitlin explain instead. It turns out to be even more significant than she expected.

"Ah, Lady Caitlin!" Kelda's voice rings out high and sweet like sunlight from freshly-lain snow. Her smile is possibly one of the most exuberant displayed lately. "Such laud upon you! Congratulations! Tell me you have celebrated such a feat? For it is no small feat!"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"There was a big feast on Themyscira," Caitlin explains. She seems very pleased by Kelda's unhindered enthusiasm. "It was even Diana's birthday and she insisted on making the big announcement and sitting me at the royal table."

Once Kelda's done examining the bracelets Caitlin sits back, pushing some loose red hair from her face and switch the drape of her single thick braid from one shoulder to the other. "Then last week we did like-- sort of a more ceremonial thing, here in New York. Diana and Queen Hippolyta asked me to let them hold it at the Embassy, since I'm, um-- not the first American, Cassie was there before me-- but the first 'non-native' Amazon, I guess," she hazards. "So that was all pretty cool and a bunch of people were there, like friends an' folks from the community."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
Kelda makes a sound of delight. "Such laud indeed, to hold a chair as that on a grand day," she agrees. Having set aside the strawberry ice cream on a nearby table, the Asgardian gently holds Caitlin's wrist. Fingertips brush along the metal and lightly tinkle nails agaist it once. No dents, no print-smears, just gleaming strength of gold.

Glancing up at her friend, the Ice Mage smiles her small smile once more and collects up the homemade dessert again. "It is wonderful that so many came to support you...and many in turn now know of your allegiance. Are you worried at garnering new enemies from this honor? It is an unfortunate circumstance from time to time."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Not really," Caitlin admits. "I mean, Donna and I have been friends pretty much my whole life," she points out. "And anyone who would mess with me now probably would have given Donna and Diana grief, an' I'd have gotten mixed up with them anyway."

She pinks a bit at the careful attention to her wrists, and lets Kelda examine the bracelets without complaint. There doesn't seem to be a visible means of removing them, and the strange luster seems immune to smudges or dings. "I went to Themyscira the first time in, um... five years ago," she explains. "I guess that was before Thor returned to Earth. When Doomsday attacked. I, uh, broke my leg and collarbone. I was laid up for most of a month before I was able to get active again. Donna an' Diana, they brought me to the island for about six months. That's when I realized I really had to start training harder if I wanted to be better."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
Wincing around the neck of the spoon to hear of the injuries, Kelda nods. "I believe I was...on errand for the Court those five years back," she firstly shares. "And to break one's collarbone is a painful thing -- a leg is no mere feat either. If you broke these bones in more than one place, perhaps you might not go to these places again."

Yes, that was a Midgardian play on words, and the Mage smiles her little smile of pleasure at it.

"You said Donna and Diana brought you to the island. Was this part of your recovery, this training? I believe they call it...physical therapy here on Midgard?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
The play on words is, regrettably, lost on Caitlin. She nods confirmation at Kelda's question. "Yeah. Well-- no, yeah, but it was more... I guess physical recovery, but also mental. I was, um..." she trails off, looking down at her empty palms. "I was pretty messed up for a while. After Doomsday. I couldn't even say its name for a long time without breaking down. They helped me get my head right. Get back into training and focusing on getting better."

She looks up and smiles wryly. "And I think Diana knew Donna would need me there, too. I felt really bad that I got thrashed so badly by Doomsday. A bunch of us got hurt, and two of our best friends died. Donna was on the island doing some Amazon stuff and couldn't get to the fight at all. It really..." she takes a deep breath. "I was really angry she wasn't there, but I think it hurt her even more knowing she wasn't there."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
A last bite of the strawberry ice cream and for the moment, the Asgardian appears to be content. The container goes away into the bag brought by Caitlin, the better to keep it cold after a nonchalant, second-nature chilling by Kelda's own palm. She then finds a chair to sit beside her friend as Caitlin explains the mortalities and the deeper emotions of the conflict.

"You have a saying by a philosopher here on Midgard, that the greatest glory is not in never falling, but rising again after one falls. It is wise of you to consider how Donna too felt about the inability to be of aid. I can tell she loves you dearly as a friend and her of you...and I can tell also of your strength and endurance. You are more formidable than before, I believe," the Mage shares as she reaches to give Caitlin's hand a companionable squeeze. Counter to the innate magics she controls, the woman's hand is warm and gentle.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin smiles bashfully at the praise, but welcomes Kelda's touch and returns it with a squeeze of her fingers. There is definitely tempered strength there, palpable even against the might of an Asgardian.

"She's my oldest real friend. I mean, not /oldest/ oldest," she amends, hastily. "Er, Eldest. She's my first friend, I mean. She had just come here from Themyscira, and it was my first year of college in a new city. So we both really didn't know anyone."

Her nose wrinkles. "To be honest, she kind of adopted me despite my best efforts against it," she admits. "I didn't think anyone would want to be my friend. I was so shy and nerdy, and everyone treated me so weirdly after I started college. It was nice to have someone who really just... wanted to be friends."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
Kelda's polite smile deepens by an amount. "Your first friend," she quietly echoes in understanding. Her expression turns pensive as she listens. Beyond the room and in the foyer of the Embassy, someone departs with a muffled //boom// of the front doors -- likely not mad, but simply not curtailing their strength in turn.

"I suppose I do not understand why anyone would find thoughtfulness and intelligence to be odd or overly-concerning. I was quite similar in my youth, more inclined to read my books than to seek out the raucous joy of the mead halls or the tempering of sword against enemy shield. Nothing terrible seems to have come of this," the Asgardian surmises with a flash of her teeth, there and gone, in quiet amusement. "It is good you bonded so early with your friend. I suspect you will have many years of companionship and support in return."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin shrugs, the gesture bashful and a little awkward at once. But she radiates pleased sincerity at the idea. "Donna's always been there for me," she points out. "I mean nothing in this life lasts forever. Not a whole lot of capes make it to retirement. But we've almost died a lot, and it never really stuck, so I think some cautious optimism is due," she grins.

"Oh! I did want to ask a favor. I mean, I can ask Thor directly," she clarifies hastily. "I don't want to go begging. I mean, the favor. Not the favor-- the question." She starts to babble and heaves a big sigh, forcing her hands up and down and laying them on her skirt for a two-count to make herself stop chattering. "Do you think it would be OK if I brought Donna to Asgard?" she says, with deliberate enunciation. "I don't know what the policy is for me bringing a guest and I didn't want to just, like, 'show up' with her and put Heimdall on the spot or something. He's so considerate, I know he'd feel bad if he had to turn her back." There's no rancor in her voice; Caitlin clearly understands Heimdall's devotion to the duties of his job.

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
"When one is...hard to perish, as it is said, it is equally difficult to avoid optimism," Kelda agrees with the soft chime of a laugh, as bright as sunlight through an icicle.

The request makes her lift pale brows. "Personally, I see no issue with the request, though you are correct. I do not have the standing in the Court to bypass any concern Heimdall may have of such an endeavor and if there are concerns, perhaps it would be best if Prince Thor were to have a say in matters. Is it a diplomatic visitation or simply to show her our Golden City?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin blinks in surprise. "Oh criminey, I guess it would be, wouldn't it," she wonders aloud. The redhead frets her lower lip, brows furrowing. "She's the younger Princess of Themyscira, so it's not like she can just pop in and say hi. I better talk to Diana, /and/ Thor," she says. "I know Donna would want to be low-key but if she goes to Asgard it's gonna be, um, ceremonial, right? All the heads of state doing their thing. Golly, I'm glad I read those books on etiquette," she says with fervent relief. She beams at Kelda and gives her wrist a squeeze. "Thank you," she says, sincerely. "I'll make sure I get it all properly done, I promise."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
Caitlin's wrist gets a squeeze in return. "You are quite welcome, but mind you, it might not be as ceremonial this first time -- or it might be," Kelda says, her light tone evincing a shrug, "And it will become an affair of diplomacy, yes. I have heard the Princes lament more than once of the difficulties of their lineage. To be royalty is not a wish I would inflict lightly upon anyone. The rigors of the Court are enough to make even those //not// of royal blood wish to be lesser known."

A glance outside as a circling of pigeons passes by one of the gloriously-carved windows of the room. "It would be wise to speak with Diana and Prince Thor, yes, perhaps only this once. If it merely be a ceremonial visit the once, then afterwards, the younger Princess and yourself might come see me in Court at any time."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
That button nose wrinkles again; Caitlin laughs, with an amused chortly. "Oh gosh, I can't even /imagine/," she says. "The Amazons don't do a whole lot of pomp and circumstance, but there's formalities for some of the sacred events, and it can take a long time to get through them all."

"But you've never been to a Catholic service, either," she points out. "Once you've sat through a three-hour long Mass, anything less feels pretty tolerable. And at least there's a lot of food and drink served at royal events. I have to sneak a protein shake into church or I'll start getting hangry after an hour."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
"A challenge, is it? To sit through this...Catholic service you speak of? I might accept it and you will be forlorn when I treat it as nothing more difficult than the lecture of one of my mentors when I was of your own youth. When one wishes the answer to a question about a shaping of the hand for the emphasis in a spell and receives a dictation of the history of the spell instead? One dearly wishes to rip hair out by the root."

Kelda can't help but laugh quietly as she adds, "And methinks you might find yourself in good company with Volstagg, one of the Warriors Three. One must not mistake his appetite for apathy. He would sympathize with the lack of nourishment and the discomfort to follow. If I am able to be present for this visitation and should it turn to diplomacy, I promise to make myself vastly more entertaining than the drivel of long formality." A wink of a glacially-blue eye.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Well I never turn down a chance to bring someone to Sunday service," Caitlin says. "But, uh, we'll try and go relatively incognito. My priest is an open-minded guy, but if you start declaring yourself a goddess, the congregation's gonna lose their minds," she says with a wry tone.

Caitlin glances at her cell phone, then gets to her feet. "I can't stay any longer unfortunately," she apologizes. "I need to swing by the labs at work, then get to the Tower, and start figuring out how to approach Diana and Thor about this trip. Busy busy." She beams a brilliant smile at Kelda and offers a hug. "It's so good to see you again. Let's not make the next trip so far away next time, m'kay?"

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
Kelda's smile doesn't confirm or dissuade any ideas crossing her mind. Scaring the parishioners of such a service doesn't seem like the wisest idea. It would also give her a chance to test her ability to blend in the better with Midgardian locals. A thing to be mulled over in her free time given Caitlin has risen and has places to be.

Rising as well, the Asgardian returns the hug with effusive warmth. Caitlin is someone she can truly hug without fear of spinal splintering. "Of course, Lady Caitlin. I shall speak with you again within the fortnight to hear if anything has come of your speaking with Diana and Prince Thor of a visitation. Thank you again for the ice cream. I shall continue to enjoy it immensely and miss it when it is gone, much like yourself. Bring my tidings to your friends." Kelda then escorts the younger redhead to the door and beyond, sending her on her way.