7358/Hair Club for Men looks for Thunderpants, finds the Stabinator

Hair Club for Men looks for Thunderpants, finds the Stabinator
Date of Scene:	13 August 2021
Location:	Folkvangr
Synopsis:	Stabinator and Vindicator chat up the depressed prince.
Cast of Characters:	Sif, Balder, Vintridr

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Sif has posed:
Tracking down the Crown Prince on Midgard is a problem. Before Jane Foster it would have been easy. Follow the trail of floozies and mead. Now, however, it is different. Jane Foster is hard at work making him a serious man and a genuine contender for a righteous ruler of the Nine Realms. Thus it is that Balder finds himself combing Happy Harbor, of all places, looking for his elusive brother...

...and spotting the distinct night-dark hair instead of the Goddess of War. Sif has just exited a vehicle, playing with one of the fondleslabs the mortals seem to enjoy in this day and age before practically saluting her chauffer.

Well it looks like Sif. The hair. The eyes. The beauteous face. The height. The ramrod straight back. The musculature. The economy of motion of an ancient fighter.

But not the garb.

No, the garb is out of place. Red pants of some kind of ... cotton? ... the variety called "jeans". That are cut too low at her midriff, opening a band of flesh between their top and the bottom of the plain white tight knit shirt ... called a "babydoll?". Red sunglasses. Red clutch purse. White canvas shoes. The colours of her House, yes, but not the kind of dress you would expect of a Lady of the Court.

Still, she walks like Sif too as she strides into a strange property concealed by a small forest of trees.

Balder has posed:
Balder was no stranger to Midgard.

Yet, somehow, the Thunderer was elusive to the younger brother. Somehow, the loudest, most rambunctious, most arrogant man in the Nine Realms was -missing- from his sight. The eyes of Heimdall guided him here to Happy Harbor, his usual purple and gold armor replaced by a simple back trench coat, a dark purple shirt, some tactical-looking pants, and boots.

No doubt some magic covered him, and those who sense it can smell the scent of the Vanir on Balder's person.

Eyes lifted and shifted, seeing through spectrums, through walls that could have hid his brother from him...yet, what he finds is often considered the most elusive -woman- in Asgard: Lady Sif. Eyes widen a moment, and one moment he's where he stood...the next he's right by Sif, his hand moving for her shoulder.

"Sif."

The voice is soft and gentle, which may yet remind Sif of a warmth that few could truly understand, yet only is it the voice of the God of Light. "I was unaware that you resided here as well." Though, he understands the price of potentially startling Sif...yet he makes no motion to defend himself.

Sif has posed:
The price ... is cut off short before delivery. Her hand already in place to grab the wrist just before his hand reached the shoulder she stops and lets the hand land.

"Prince Balder," she says. "Brave as always." Her eyes glint as her lips form a thin line of suppressed good humour.

The hand that was about to do damnable violence to his wrist now rests atop his hand on her shoulder. "Yes, I thought I should see what it is about this realm that fascinates so many of our people."

Read: Why her betrothed spends so much time here, and with whom.

"I shan't stay for long, My Prince. One, maybe two centuries at most. And, naturally, my brother will summon me at need should the Court and Throne need my services."

She gestures to the copse of woods. "They think our Norsemen lived this way. I wish to see what is remembered of our proteges."

Balder has posed:
Brave indeed.

Though some would argue stupid to try and put hands on a Goddess of War, Balder was perhaps one of the few who could stand against Sif's terrible wrath. Thankfully, she's friendly towards him, and his hand on her shoulder is brief in it's rest, leaving swiftly and resting at his side. Balder seems to frown a little bit as she mentions how attractive this world is to other Asgardians.

Thor is not the first to leave Asgard for Midgard, and he is certainly not the last.

"I see. I look for Thor, though I had feared I would not find him. Heimdall has guided me to this location...it pains me to know that Thor has taken after Loki - he's difficult to find." Balder sighs softly. "Two centuries is a long time, Lady Sif. A blink in our lives it may be, but it is such a time that your absence will be felt."

He looks to the woods. "Do you now? Hm..perhaps I will join you."

Sif has posed:
Having fully intended to have a laugh at the mortals' expense, Sif paused in the hall proper, lowering her sunglasses to look in, then across at Balder.

"They ... did not make it completely wrong," she confesses as the closest guests to the door raise a hail of greeting much as the Germanic folk and Norse folk still do to this day and age.

A server dressed up in soemthing that could pass as medieval Norse garb (if you're very myopic) rushes up. "Table for two... No, three..." She turns to Balder, explaining, "I invited the Valkyrior Vintridr to join me."

Then back to the server. "It was a reservation for two, but a happenstance meeting of a very old friend has caused that to rise to three."

"May I have your names to announce?"

Without thinking, having not quite caught the announcement part, Sif gave the names: Prince Balder and Lady Sif of Asgard, and Vintridr of Asgard when she showes up. The server laughs, not quite realizing the truth of the matter, thinking it is a fine joke.

"I will have a table for three cleared quickly then, LADY Sif," he says with an affable grin. "And will announce you shortly."

He scurries off to effect this.

Vintridr has posed:
    An invitation from Lady Sif is not lightly set aside. For one, the company of the Goddess of War is hardly unpleasant - but almost as important is the fact that she tends to make her own entertainment when denied, which can lead to a significant amount of diplomatic headaches.

    ... Plus, Vintridr has to admit that Sif's description of an 'adorably quaint' restaurant has piqued her interest. She shows up wearing her usual Midgard-casual garb -- a tank top that shows off her tattoos, armbands that slightly de-emphasize her biceps, and side-tied leather pants.

    As she approaches the entrance, she quickly spots Lady Sif -- and freezes in mid-step as she recognizes her companion. "... My Lord Prince, Lady Sif," she says as she draws close enough for normal conversation, with a deferential nod of the head at Balder followed by a quick did-you-set-this-up glare at Sif. "This is an unexpected pleasure."

Balder has posed:
Balder looks at Sif for a moment, a simple brow raising a litlte bit before he nods his head only once at the hail from the audience that he and Sif seemed to possess. Though his gaze shifts to the server as he seems to await Sif's commands. "Three?" Balder questions Sif, and thankfully gains a swift reply. "Interesting."

Even the Valkyrie find themselves on Midgard. "I imagine my father is consistently baffled at how we have made Midgard almost like a secondary home." he comments with a sad look on his face, but he lalows Sif to handle the formalities of what they are dealing with.

Balder then ewatches the servent scurry away, his gaze shifting to Sif. "...I believe he found something you said humorous."

Then Vintrindr appears to arrive. "Vintrindr. I apologize for the unexpected visit, but I imagine you will recover."

Sif has posed:
"Vintridr!" Sif's face breaks into a welcoming smile as the young Valkyrior approaches. "I think you and the Princ..." And that was answered before it was even asked. Sif settles for a warrior's back-slapping hug after arm-clasp greeting.

"As you can see," she says, looking around rather impressed, "They did not get everything wrong. I mean it's not quite right, but ... nine hundred years is a long time. Changes happen. Memories drift. This is not bad at all."

Rare praise of mortal culture from the mouth of Sif.

"Since there was a sudden change in the number arriving ... His Highness stumbled over me outside the venue ... we will have to wait for sea..."

A trumpet blows, cutting Sif off. A man dressed (badly) as a skald intones with a sonorous voice like a church bell. "ANNOUNCING PRINCE BALDER OF ASGARD, LADY SIF OF ASGARD AND VINTRIDR OF ASGARD!"

"Oh, our table is ready."

Vintridr has posed:
    Vintridr chuckles at Balder's comment. "I suspect that he believes our names to be in jest; a joke in line with this restaurant's theme. After all, even if Asgard is now known to be real, and Thor a well-known figure among the Avengers, who would imagine several demigods of eld to, as they say, 'slum it' in a simple restaurant in a small town away from everything?"

    She nods at Sif. "Norse culture has, especially recently, held great interest among westerners," she points out, then her face darkens briefly. "... Even if not all the interest was welcome," she continues, falling silent for a moment as she dismisses bad memories, and then the sound of the trumpet gives her an out to change the subject. "... But such discussions are not suitable for a pleasant dinner. Shall we?"

Balder has posed:
Balder nods only once to Sif. "It is difficult for me to forget a face." His gaze shifts to Vintrindr. "Even yours. It is good to see you again after all of this time." Balder's smile grows warm and kind, though his head bows ever so slightly to the pair of women. But his eyes then shift around the restaurant.

"...our history, our influence, reduced toa restaurant." Balder mentions with a sad look in his eyes. No rage, no anger, just...sadness. It was neat to see someone take the time, of course, to make a restaurant where people are consistently exposed to Norse tradition.

But before he can truly say anything, their names are called upon. "Seems we are summoned."

His gaze slowly turns to Vintrindr. "Even still..." He sighs ever so slightly. "It's of no consequence. Let us hope the meals are pleasant. I'm happy everyone here seems to be having a good time."

Sif has posed:
There's a subtle frown briefly in place on Sif's face as she regards Balder's downward mood. She shakes it off, however, and, amid the stares of people as they approach their table, she adds conversationally, "If this is what bothers you, Prince Balder, I would recommend you not see the 'operas' of the skald 'Wagner'." She snorts and eyes Vintridr. "In his fine estimation, the best and greatest of our Valkyrior is suited to lying on a stone asleep until awoken by the kiss of a man who can put her in her place, swive her, and make her a proper woman."

The disgust in Sif's voice could douse candles were it to drip on them.

"By comparison this place is hearty. Hale. It has the cameraderie of our kind--I noted with satisfaction the tradition of greeting newcomers--and if the aromas in the air are anything to go by it will be an intriguing experience food-wise. Eat. Drink. Be merry. For tomorrow we may be at war."

She claps the prince on the shoulders, then waits for him to sit before seating herself.

Vintridr has posed:
    Vintridr nods at Sif. "It is not as bad as it seems, my Lord. While I admit there were - and still are - plenty of people and places that use our symbols and tokens without understanding or consideration, simply to decorate themselves with 'something cool', they are nowadays outnumbered by places like this who have, as they are fond of saying, 'done the research' out of respect."

    She smiles. "And this is far from the only place, or the greatest of them. There are even societies that like to don almost proper armour and re-enact the days of yore, both for entertainment and out of respect... And even some groups that still worship who we were, although the latter have suffered more than a few existential crises as of late thanks to your brothers..."

    "The Midgard saying is 'Never meet your heroes'; apparently it applies to meeting one's deities as well."

Balder has posed:
"Bothered?"

That one word seems to strike Balder's curiosity, but eventually, Balder just shakes his head, "No, not bothered...merely saddened. Asgard's influence is felt among all of the Nine realms, though it would appear that Midgard is the least of these." Balder hums a moment, frowning, but eventually speaking further. "Wagner seems a fool. Any battle maiden, Valkyrior, warrior, or Einherjar are more than capable of besting one another. How you are born bears little weight."

Balder just seems...confused.

"Tomorrow we may be at war, yes...but we may also be at peace. Drink as if it is your last...but drink in thanks of another day ahead." The sun always rises, or Balder so believes. His shoulders are clapped, and he does indeed take his seat.

To Vintridr, he nods. "I see. At least the days of old are not yet lost on them. There is...an innocence to Midgard." Balder hums, before he continues. "I'm happy there are at least a few who remain who remember the old ways, and who still honor it in their own way. I don't know why we ought to never meet our heroes...though I can understand the potential disappointment behind it. It's merely another lesson."

Sif has posed:
"While none, of course, would ever be disappointed in meeting me, Prince Balder," Sif says with dry humour lighting her eyes, "if you saw the way these mortals have elevated our kind in their memory, the reality could easily be a disappointment. As I put it in an 'interview' with a local skald, Asgard has many sobriquets. 'Place of Perfection' is not among them."

She drains her tankard in a single move, something that catches more than one eye as she holds it aloft in silent signal for another.

"So when they elevate us to perfection and see us as imperfect, there is disappointment."

Vintridr has posed:
    Vintridr nods again. "Sadly, very few of us live up perfectly to the legends made around us. That isn't anyone's fault; it simply is what it is. Learning to accept this is part of the process of growing up."

    She raises her tankard in salute, although to what exactly isn't immediately clear. Her own memories of innocent idealism, perhaps.

    But then the food arrives, and conversation comes to an end.