837/The Light and the LIghtning

The Light and the LIghtning
Date of Scene:	29 March 2020
Location:	Avengers Mansion - First Floor
Synopsis:	A reunion and a puzzle presented. Asgard awaits.
Cast of Characters:	Thor, Jane Foster

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Thor has posed:
    In the depths of the Avengers' mansion it is quiet. Though there is at times the sound of clicking, just repeat clicking and tapping and perhaps at times some darkly toned muttering. For in the recroom there is a blaze of light on the large screen television, there is a brilliant graphical tableau bright on the monitor showing a horrid monstrosity of a creature with a heroic figure repeatedly shooting it. Though no sound... for the headphones upon the Asgardian's head likely cancel them out. Though not entirely, for there's a shriek and a hiss and a crackle as well as the mutter of voices. Voices that Thund3r3r1 responds to at times with indignance.
    "You speak ill of my efforts and know not the feats of mightiness to which I am capable, rodrigofistpuncher. I have set upon this creature with great strength!"
    To which the chattering in his headset continues, "You know my mother not at all!"
    "Lies and perfidy!"
    Only for in that moment for there to be a ring of the doorbell at the front door of the mansion. A ring that is repeated perhaps once before the headset is pulled off and the Asgardian Prince rises to his feet, "JARVIS? Someone is at the door?"
    << Yes, Master Odinson. >>
    He quickly grabs the headset and speaks into it sharply, "I must away, fend for yourselves, comrades."
    And with that he starts to stalk out of the room, his flip-flops fnap-fnap-fnapping behind him as he strides, the orange shorts he's wearing and the bright blue Hawaiian shirt likely not exactly fitting his usual garb when out and about but for sitting at home...
    Perfection.
    He reaches the door and with little ado opens it.

Jane Foster has posed:
JARVIS of course probably has a database on just about everyone else in the US. Face and voice recognition software made by anything Stark Industries far and away outstrips what the US government has. Even if they didn't, it's a moot point. Jane Foster is currently rivalling a number of social media-savvy celebrities in follower count. She can be found easily, traced through any number of recent hits. Identifying her is no difficulty, nor cross-referencing the SHIELD access level with all the salient bits. No doubt someone will review it.

The brunette standing there with her hand curled in a fist at her side isn't bothered, not particularly. She holds fast on the threshold, as is her eternal purpose. Thresholds of time and space, of one realm and another, life and death even. The latter being a particularly new acquisition, but she resists the urge to scratch at the band where uru meets skin. It's seamless and smooth, but still. Jane puts her fingers into a tighter ball. Someone might wrongly suspect her of preparing to punch the butler when the door opens.

This would be a terrible plan, if it were true.

"Hello, is..."

Second thoughts wing away on dragonfly paths, zipping to the far corners. "This a bad time?" She resumes after a beat, taking in Thor with one sweep of those wide, dark eyes. Up and down, up again. Zeroing in on the Hawaiian pattern, anyway. "I will be a little jealous if you just came back from Kauai or Tahiti. Rather fine weather they have while we trudge through the wet." This traipses out before she can curb it, unable to bite her tongue. Unable to suppress the laughter.

Thor has posed:
    For a time Thor is frozen, eyes wide as he stands there blinking a few times. "Jane!" He says, and that word of her name stands there alone for a time only for him to draw back a little and turn his head.
    "Jarvis?" Furtively, "Why did you not tell me?"
    And equally quiet for an AI, << You instructed me in the past to not give updates on... >>
    "Ah, no, shh, yes. I see." Thor says interrupting the automated system and nodding toward Jane. And then his features change, brightening as he smiles. "Jane!" He repeats that name, perhaps starting anew.
    "It is good to see you, and no of course. You are not interrupting. I mean..." A tilt of his head as he sweeps her inside with the gesture of one showing another into their humble abode. "Please come in, do."
    "Would you care for something to drink?" Fnap-fnap-fnap as he walks, "Is something amiss? Have you need of my aid?" But then his eyes wander to alight upon the gauntlet. His eyes narrow a little but he says naught of it, for now at the least.

Jane Foster has posed:
Some part of her name on Thor's lips sends Jane briefly into speechlessness. Her tongue cleaves to her palate and refuses to unglue itself in the first few seconds. For someone so tall to stand perfectly still in the frame of the doorway is equal cause for her to assess her surroundings with a sidelong glance. Risk assessments rapidly compiled take her a moment, and then her wit kicks in.

"Thor," she replies, keenly stressing the syllable with that vivid warmth. JARVIS can take the blame and she respectfully pretends not to hear that at all. Not in the least, despite the prickling heat between her shoulder blades. A ready smile mirrors his, though they might be separated by a few meters or light years. "Yes, me. Still Jane Foster, despite all the efforts to the contrary." Her hand rises in a wave.

That trenchcoat sleeve draws back a little, revealing the heathered purple thermal shirt. He isn't dressed up, and for her, this constitutes dressed down casual too. "It's great to see you too. Delightful, in fact. You are certain you have a bit?" She looks past his silhouette, much as she can, to ensure there aren't a parade of Avengers running out the door in full kit or some other instructive hint things went awry during the ten minute walk over from the subway stop. Becasue no, Jane does not take Ubers, nor need she when one of the workplaces she prefers is in hammer-throw distance. The Hayden Planetarium might just be in sight. Still, she steps in as invited, stopping to remove her shoes out of habit right by the door to a bonafide mansion. Call it silly, but her manners insist on the pause.

"I hope you are well. And your family, too." Even if this impels an itchy urge to slap one of them. She puts her wrist down again, the heat glowing off the warm metal only in her imagination. "You will have to forgive me for not giving much advance notice. I put off the social call long enough. I thought you might wish to know I've had strange dreams. Not exactly run of the mill ones." She waves a hand a little. The pretty golden bracelet obliges by barely slipping down her wrist.

Thor has posed:
    "No, what? Of course, good to see you. Please come in and everything is fine. I have more than a bit." The tall Asgardian nods as he walks along a little more, those flip-flops making those noises as he moves. But then he pauses, gaze flitting back to her and shifting his attention rightly to the uru-metal.
    The revelation and prominence of that bracelet does draw Thor's gaze and he blinks a little, stopping there in the hallway though he does glance behind him as if considering the approach of others. He extends a hand toward her and lifts his chin, "If I may?" And should she so grant permission he'll take a spare moment to consider her gift and draw in a steady breath.
    "When did this happen, Jane? Under what circumstances?"

Jane Foster has posed:
In her sock feet, Jane hardly makes much noise. The shushed murmur at best evokes any interruption next to the steady smack of flip-flop soles. That's a sight to commend to memory, the Prince of Asgard wearing flippy-floppies. She hums a bar corresponding to being at Kinko's, flipping copies. For no reason whatsoever, of course. The melody could be familiar.

The bracelet has its own incorrigible presence upscaling any outfit she wears, and she almost unconsciously flicks her wrist to set both sleeves back down to brushing her knuckles. When Thor stops, she mirrors him, a step behind and caught up in the beat. Lighter on her feet than that first encounter back in New Mexico, but they both have reasons for it. There's a sharper self of awareness and surroundings, perhaps. "You may, of course. It would be rather foolish of me to ask for your assistance without giving you a chance to see anything, wouldn't it?" She extends her hand, palm up. "A few coworkers commented on it. In fairness, I told them it was a gift and left it at that. For all the good it did."

The bracelet is hardly an imposing presence at the face of it. A cuff rather than a bangle to settle in tighter, but it's no vambrace crawling up to her elbow. Though someone who actually knows the properties of uru would surely identify its make, and the humming energies within being alarmingly familiar with one or two other relics. A breath is all it takes to make the Asgardian runes shine. "The short version of the story, it showed up when I was in Hammer Bay for work when someone -- something -- tried to wipe out the entire nation. They mostly succeeded."

Thor has posed:
    A deep breath is taken, "Oh Jane." Thor's eyes distance as he ponders the depictions upon the metal, the bracelet itself, his hand running over it slowly and then drawing back. "A fate has fallen to you that can be a hard one to understand, let alone travel."
    As easy as that his discomfiture, his stress, their relationship woes of the past are forgotten for this takes precedence and is an issue that must be addressed. So he changes from the man and to the Prince, despite his garb still reminding one of the islands in the Pacific.
    "A handsome gift as this carries with it a price upon you and your future. Tell me of your dreams then." Into the kitchen they finally reach, his stride carrying him to the refrigerator for him to open and procure two bottles of water. The rite observed as he hands one to her and takes one for himself.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Considering the distances cease to use many measures we understand with wormholes and portals, I'm more accustomed to the idea than you think." Jane makes a gentle joke out of the rather painful statement laid out, one steeped in blood and tears, falling lightning and clashing wings. She blows out through her parted lips, circled to admit that long held suspicion in some wordless form. Her shoulders do not drop, but she puts her other hand to the knot of her trenchcoat square over her abdomen. It helps her to keep upright.

Wearing masks isn't easy. Not with them, not the long rainbow path of memories and experiences stretching between them. She faces Thor without looking away, a kind of enduring presence there. "I am fallible, I get that. Working with what I know, it showed up about the point an apartment building fell on the university." She doesn't flinch from the facts, though the wounds are barely scabbed over. "The bracelet is the easy part. When they brought me into the hospital, a tech tried to remove it. It wouldn't budge. I'm told they tried to cut it from me and it broke their tools." A wry smile, acknowledging the obvious there. Chopping off Asgardian jewelry is no task for mere Midgardian saws and scissors.

She holds his gaze but so much goes inward. Another deep breath, calling on practice to calm herself before going on stage. "I ask you excuse me if any of this sounds disjointed. Dreams do not frequently follow a linear course. They started in New York. Around the time your brother wreaked havoc. I started dreaming of Asgard, other places I'd never been. A realm covered in nothing but ice, standing before a bridge and making a challenge. Running through fields of lava, carrying a man with a horned helm who must not falter before we reached the city. Sometimes I die in battle: with giants, on a boat, on a beach. Sometimes I alone live, in the midst of a huge storm all around us and we're in the center of it. Women who remind me a lot of Sif, in fact. Not exactly the same, sometimes their skin is dark or tattooed or scarred. And they tell me things but I don't remember much of what they say."

Thor has posed:
    There's a deep breath taken by the Thunderer as he stands before her, his hands still on the bottle before him. He frowns a little and shakes his head as he twists the cap off and continues to consider her thoughtfully, those bright blue eyes of his lost and distanced for a time.
    The bottle lifts as he points at her with it, shaking it a little as if drawing forth his thoughts with the aid of that simple movement. "Have you seen ravens? The All-Father in your dreams? Have you seen a city of gold upon a great land with snow-capped mountains?"
    But even before she answers he's looking away, likely considering options, "Would you wish to go to Asgard with me? To speak to those there? They may be able to offer you insight that I cannot."

Jane Foster has posed:
"Golden spires. Not much for domes. The architecture has edges and designs I've never seen anywhere in my travels. Bits of St. Petersburg in there, perhaps suggestions of Brazilia, but it's too fantastical for anything recognizable. This isn't some kind of modernistic design." Jane's chestnut eyebrows lower, her thoughts scribed on her fair face. "Round columns and lots of curves. I wish I were a better artist or I might have done more than doodles. I can plot warped lines of gravity around a black hole, but forget trying to capture a pointy set of vaguely Gothic piers sticking up before an immense lake of some kind. I try to capture it and the thoughts aren't quite clear. Imagine seeing a city stretching to the sky like a pipe organ in a church."

Her words are slow. They have to be as she plumbs the depths of her memories and the filtered haze left when the wakefulness pulls the curtain back.

That's solid ground, compared to the next. She looks at the bottle, then to Thor, concern graven there. "I don't know if he shows up in my dreams. You did. I remember some of the women. That storm was the most recent after Genosha, and I feel like time is running down. Is Asgard safe? Are -you- safe? Is even taking me there going to cause a problem?"

Thor has posed:
    "Asgard is safe as far as I know, and I..." There's a small smile there as Thor tells her, "I carry an area of safety around me at all times." A little of that old arrogance, but he nods to her. "Come..."
    And with that he starts towards the door and the hall...
    Only to stop and for him to turn to her slowly, clearing his throat as he murmurs. "Or rather... perhaps bide." He uncurls a hand toward her, "I shall go and make myself ready. Then we shall call upon Heimdall and summon the Bifrost. Together we shall travel to Asgard and see to this matter immediately."
    That said he gives a single nod.
    And then, very briefly, there is a hint of the old warmth in his eyes as he extend a hand to hers, seeking to clasp it if only to offer reassurance as he murmurs. "I will return." As if those words carried with them sentiment beyond their utterance. Then he turns and is away, soon followed by the thumping of heavy footsteps up the stairs.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane breaks into a smile, though it doesn't totally warm her eyes. Too many shadows there come with the process of grieving and rebirth in its way. "Somehow, Mjolnir is the definition of safety. Great, lovely hammer with the blessing of the skies would have that effect." It's the lightest of teases, testing perhaps whether she can still find the gentle margins of a joke that transcends human custom and familiar society.

"Give them some forewarning about bringing in a foreigner. I actually have my passport, for what it matters." She pats her coat, and then lifts up her wrist. "Though if I get jailed for theft of some precious artifact, I will have you know it showed up on its own. Hopefully Asgard has better lawyers than Earth, right?" Oh sweet summer child. Justice hinging on the All-Father is a strange and unfamiliar country, even to one of the few mortals to have studied things as deeply as she has.

The blithe measure of a smile dares him on, given to Thor freely as good humour. She holds out her hand to his, fingers closing around his, giving that certain bridge. Time shifts. Things change. Seasons roll. Some matters might not alter their shape, and others do far more. "Thank you. I regret having to impose, though making a decision blind... Much more of Hod's province than mine."

Then he is on his way. JARVIS possibly bears witness to the astrophysicist putting to mind all her thoughts, arranging them behind a mask. Her face turns down, eyes closing for a moment under the stifling enormity of a legacy almost unfathomable. And there it is, whispering its siren call, as she runs her fingers over the sigils marking Undrjarn. Of paths taken and not taken, while standing at a crossroads. Answers.

Asgard.