73/Got Some News Here, Buddy Old Pal

Got Some News Here, Buddy Old Pal
Date of Scene:	23 February 2020
Location:	Avengers Mansion - First Floor
Synopsis:	Surprise! Loki's not in a dungeon, Thor, and you have some talkin' to do!
Cast of Characters:	Thor, Sif

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Thor has posed:
    The interior of the Avengers mansion is a brilliant study of minimalist modern decor with a distinct lack of color at points though when it is used it is used so effectively. Like in the kitchen where there's a line of burnt crimson that marks the backsplash. Or in the foyer with the hint of green from the living plants that call that room their home. Though when Thor steps through an area, he is often the rampant bit of chaos in the middle of that deceptive order.
    Especially today as he wears a bright red t-shirt with a multi-color graphic on the front of it that proclaims brightly, 'AVENGERS: THE MUSICAL!' A Broadway Production is there in the text beneath and then there is the blaze of images of the superheroes all _bustin_ out of a wall and past some curtains with an usher gasping in dismay in a makeshift theater.
    That with his blue jeans and bright yellow hair is enough to draw the eye at casual glance. And then add to it the aqua bowl of cereal in his hand that he is spooning sugared oats into his mouth from and you get a good glimpse into the Life of an Avenger.
    << Thor, an acquaintance of yours is approaching the front door. >>
    "Thank you, Jarvis." The Asgardian says as he begins to make his way to the foyer, taking his cereal with him.

Sif has posed:
Arriving at the door is a vision of equal chaos. Rather than sport odd colors or graphic designs, the raven-haired Valkyrie who strides up the walk bisecting the expansive front lawn of the Avengers Mansion is a sight in gleaming silver armor and red leather padding beneath it. At her hip, Brumeoalfold, and in her pale-blue eyes, a patient sense of self-preparation. With head held high, she knocks upon the door with confident force -- rather, it comes across as a demanding WHAM WHAM WHAM in her momentarily unchecked strength.

Then, stepping back, the Valkyrie awaits a response. It comes in JARVIS.

<< Thor is expecting you, please enter. >>

Peering at the front door's awning and around her briefly, Sif then nods and enters the mansion. "Thor?" How imperiously her voice carries. Who else could it be but the Goddess of War? At least she closes the door behind her before stepping further in to a polite extent.

Thor has posed:
    And there he is, that splash of color against the somber backdrop. He smiles as he sets the bowl down and steps toward her, "Lady Sif." There's the shine of friendship and camaraderie in the greeting as he steps toward her, bare feet whispering on the center run as he closes that distance. He extends an arm to clasp hers should she accept and then steps in to give a quick smack of lips just to the side of her cheek before drawing back to meet her eyes.
    "I am pleased to see you," But then her manner registers, and his brow furrows though he still holds her arm.
    "What has passed that sits so ill with you now." He draws back, hand sliding from hers as he looks her over openly, down then up again to meet her eyes. "I trust my family is well?" He turns his head to the side slightly at that last, as if trying to view her from a new angle, as if that would bring answers all the faster.

Sif has posed:
One of her oldest companions is a sight for sore eyes. Definitely obvious against the staid interior decor, the Thunderer, and it was a wise decision to set aside the bowl of cereal. Grinning, Sif returns the arm-clasp as is the traditional martial greeting of the Asgardian warrior class. While she gets a peck on the cheek, Thor gets a rib-straining hug from the Goddess in a quick trapping of arms before she sets back.

Still, Thor is perceptive. In front of him, the Valkyrie is used to letting down her guard more than she might do in front of the average Midgardian or Asgardian alike. Her grin becomes something more appropriate for Court, something Thor might recognize: reserved, in a way.

"I am pleased to see you too, Thor. It has been enough time, short as this time may have seemed. Your father and mother are well. The Court of Asgard remains stable." Her palm shifts to rest atop the pommel of her sword at her hip, a motion of long-habit and self-comfort. She looks between Thor's eyes. "Have you spoken with your brother lately?"

Thor has posed:
    The hug causes the other Asgardian to 'whouf' as she pins and squeezes, then he smirks and shakes his head, dusting off his sleeves affectedly and then harumphing in her direction. But then he answers,
    "Yes," Thor says, frowning and still looking warily. He turns his head the other way, observing Sif closely as if she were somehow going to blossom tentacles and attack him, though what he fears may likely be a touch more mundane. "Only some week and several days ago. We shared words in the Dungeon of Asgard and he was..."
    There's a pause as Thor looks away, then back as he adds. "Unpleasant." That said he folds his arms over his chest, drawing himself up to his full considerable height as he chews the inside of his cheek. "What has he done this time?" As he keys in to the matter.

Sif has posed:
Sif nods, a light of sympathy in her expression and eyes now. 'Unpleasant' does apply to the Trickster God now and then, especially in his more touchy mood swings. As to what the Mage has done this time? Sif shifts in place and takes up a more relaxed stance in counter to the crossed arms presented to her, her free hand easily left to hang by her thigh.

"It is not what he has done, more what has happened to him," she explains, voice gone nearly sotto voce, as if she were concerned about listening ears. Her brows knit. "Your father has banished him here to Midgard."

Thor has posed:
    As Sif relates this occurance she'll see Thor's expression shift slowly, moving along with her words as she tells him what has passed. His brow knits together while he watches, gaze flitting back and forth between her eyes as he looks on. His eyebrows lift upwards at the accepance of the trickster's nature, but then she plays a little coy as to what has happened so he squints.
    And then she drops the bomb with her delivering that he has banished, which causes a visible step back by the Thunderer as he blinks rapidly, his mind racing with the repercussions...
    And then come the questions. "But why? How? But his crimes were... Does he not know the mortals will not stand..."
    A hand lifts to rub at the back of his neck, as if trying to massage the oncoming headache away before it truly gets started. "Tell me all you know, Sif." He demands, his voice growing stern.

Sif has posed:
Sif sighs, patient and relatively unflustered by the thunder she sees in Thor's expression. She doesn't look away from him, her spine as steely as it's ever been.

"I returned from affairs in Vanaheim to find that your father had elected to banish Loki here, to Midgard. He has been stripped of many of his abilities, including his penchant for telling less than the truth. His magic is chained. Your father also branded him, on his neck," and the Valkyrie points at the identical place on her own neck unblemished. "Loki told me that it cannot be removed by any means he's devised thus far. He has a place of retreat located at 501 Hill Street, but has managed to hide it well. No Midgardian or those without magical ability will find it. Your mother lent me a scrying bracelet when I asked after him and agreed that I should see that he is well, even if he is uncomfortable with his current means and state."

This bracelet must be on Sif if not on her wrist currently; both are bare but for the hem of her fingerless gloves.

Thor has posed:
    There's a time as Sif explains that Thor's features harden as he looks her over again, but he turns his head to the side, eyeing her askance only for his eyes to lift as he shakes his head, displeased with himself for some reason as he takes a breath. "Did he? Did he go into his reasoning behind this? Do you know the wording of this banishment? With my father the details are likely to be very important."
    Then Thor turns and he starts pacing quickly, bare feet quiet on the area rug there in that hall. He grimaces and looks back toward her, "Did he make any allowance for how the people of Midgard will react? To him? To us?" He brings a hand up to rest it on his shoulder, she'll likely recognize that place there where a fire giant's spear had thrust through him and left one of the few scars that remain on Thor's body.
    "What am I supposed to do with this? Is he... is he to be accepted back into court if he meets some kind of condition?" It all just sits so very poorly with the tall man.

Sif has posed:
Sif waits for the stream of questions to end. There she stands at the edge of the fine rug expanding out from befor the double doors, still in the slightest hips-akimbo poise, and she watches. The news is apparently not sitting well from what she can tell off the bat. It makes her brows knit further. When given a moment, she replies evenly,

"I was not present for this verdict given by your father, so I know no words or reasoning behind it other than what I was told by Loki. I have no idea what your father intended as to your own actions, though I am certain he would accept you asking to speak with him. Your mother could not tell me more and I did not presume to press out of respect for her." Her boot makes a sharp sound on the flooring. "Thor, I cannot answer all of these questions. You might consider speaking to your brother...?"

Thor has posed:
    "Told by Loki," Thor echoes though there's a sourness to the words there, as if knowing what Loki says is not to be trusted. Though he does add, "Though you say he has been afflicted with limitations?" It all causes him much discomfort as he now turns and paces back the other way, shaking his head all the while. "I will have to have words with mine father first," He says then as if there was no other course of action.
    "Surely he must have... have some reason for this. Perhaps some path of redemption for my brother, but from where I stand I cannot see it." He takes a deep breath and rests his hands on his hips, unconsciously mirroring Sif's stance while he tries to puzzle things out himself.
    Then he lifts his head and gestures toward her, "And then speak with Loki." He touches one hand to his brow and rubs slowly, as if trying to work away the pain of the headache that will be inflicted upon him some time soon. "What am I to tell the others? Stark. And Barton. And Rogers."
    With exasperation he turns and his hands reach out as if trying to find someone or something to strangle, but they just knead the air helplessly. "Perhaps I am being tested." He says, sourly.

Sif has posed:
"Yes, including his ability to lie being greatly diminished," Sif notes of limitations with that flat patience on full display. She watches the great warrior walk his way about the foyer in counter to physically letting out his frustration. Her fingernails drum lightly on the pommel of her sword in a nearly-silent run of timpany.

A nod of agreement is more of a tilt of head in the end. "I believe you are being tested, yes. Loki did mention that his assignment had something to do with you and this might be a lesson in turn." Now both hands lift, palm up, in something of a shrug at the height of her waist. "You //both// are being tested," the Valkyrie emphasizes curtly. "Speak with your father, yes, and with Loki. As to telling your comrades..."

Sif does give Thor a mildly pitying look. "I have no wisdom for you other than tell the truth. Loki is banished here and under restriction. It will put them more at ease."

Thor has posed:
    "S'typical!" Thor says sharply, but Sif has known the Thunderer long enough to know his anger is not at her, and more directed to individuals not present. And likely the situation in and of itself. He shakes his head and then repeats as he looks back across the way to her, "It is typical. Of my father. And Loki."
    But then he shakes his head a few times and then he holds up a hand... then lowers it with a wave quickly, as if brushing it all away. "Perhaps it is my due for all the years I rushed about and did as I wished without a care in the world."
    He takes a deep steadying breath and then can't help but smile toward Sif and sys, "But..." Thor looks down and away, before he looks back. "Despite all that he did, if I were to tell you it did not trouble me at all when I would see him in the dungeon... then I would be a liar."
    Another deep breath and his jaw tenses before he adds with a laugh, "I am going to screw this up, Sif." She is perhaps the only person he would say that to, one of his two oldest friends. His brother being the other.
    "I am going to make a mess of it and it will end with Loki laughing and..." He shakes his head. "Bah."

Sif has posed:
"It is typical." Subtly gritting her teeth, Sif nods further agreement and curses mentally at the outcomes of Fate now and then. His humble turn of thought is enough to make her mask break. Her lips part in a knowing little gleam of a grin and she lifts and drops her shoulders obviously, making ambient light gleam from the pauldrons set upon them.

"When do things ever end without Loki laughing to himself about //something//?" Finally moving, the Valkyrie walks over with composed grace and attempts to pat the Thunderer's firm shoulder with friendly pressure. "But do not be so certain that you will screw things up. You have not yet begun with speaking to your father, yes? The Thor I knew did not balk at the idea of being laughed at." An eyebrow lifts in amusement. "Remember the time when you thought to ride a Bilgesnipe up the royal processive aisle in your youth and did not manage to get it within two miles of the main gate?"

That had been an utter fiasco leaving both Sif and Thor muddied from sole to crown of head and having to present themselves at Court as such.

Thor has posed:
    Still shaking his head slightly, Thor spreads his hands. "I must go then." Already deciding on his course of action. His jaw clenches as he grinds his teeth, then he agrees and repeats, "I must go."
    Yet it's her mention of that time past with the Bilgesnipe and the escapades of their youth that snaps him out of the reflection and back to her as he grimaces with a snort aided by a smirk. "We all had a checkered youth, Lady Sif. Lest I remind you of your own ill-fated endeavours." Though at the least he does not give voice to one of those many times. Because he is clearly nicer.
    A grumble is torn from him however as he then looks down at himself and looks across the way at Sif, "I must make myself ready. You are welcome to stay here while I am off. I'll be leaving in... twenty minutes." Gives him enough time to make ready. He turns and starts to stomp off, though remembers his manners as he calls over his shoulder, "If you are hungry feel free to have some cereal!"
    And with that he stomps up the stairs.