(no subject)

[asynja]

This time, Sif found Milliways on purpose.

It's easy to see why, for those who have met her before and got to know her at all; she's wearing a rather ornate gown in a deep gold color, so long her feet are entirely hidden by it. Her hair is styled, though some of it still falls down her back, and she has an impressive piece of jewelry around her neck as well.

She looks the opposite of pleased by this situation, and is also carrying a spear in one hand and a small throwing knife not quite in the other -- but it's attached to the leather band around her wrist. (It's not even hers. The knife. Not the band.)

Walking in, she goes immediately to a comfortable-looking chair, flops down in it, crosses one leg over the other and audibly sighs -- or maybe it's huffing. Either way, one of Asgard's lead warriors looks not-too-thrilled with her situation.



[OOC: I warn in advance that I am the queen of slowtimes; thanks for the people who have been putting up with my and Sif's slowness so far! Unpredictable internet connection and an unpredictable RL. I'm here for the next four hours for sure, though.]

Comments

[to_serve]

Batwoman (who had been outside visiting the heavy bag for some stress relief) walked in the back door just as Sif had walked in the front and couldn't help watching the woman. The woman's ensemble is rather unique and she can't help looking to see if the woman's shoes fit the weapons or the dress.

[asynja]

There's a secret about Sif that none but her closest friends know, and that's that she is actually somewhat of a shoes horse. Sif loves shoes. Sif also isn't aware of the amazing variety of shoes Midgard has, and so if she ever sees the place again and actually gets to go in a shoe store --

But that's a story that doesn't quite apply right now.

The truth of the matter is that as much as Sif does have at least four pairs of nice shoes for nice parties, this was not a nice party she wanted to go to. Or have anything to do with. And so the answer is, quite simply: the weapons.

When she shifts around to ask a passing waitrat for a coffee, her combat boots are visible under her skirts.

[to_serve]

Batwoman smiles beneath her mask and approaches out of curiosity...that and she's thirsty from her workout.

"Covert op?" she asks, taking a seat nearby, cause clearly spears, daggers and court or cocktail dresses don't mix right? At least not in her world.

[asynja]

Sif looks up -- not really startled, but surprised.

"Hm? Oh - no, I just had a bad feeling about this one."

The party, one assumes.

[to_serve]

"Can I get a water?" Batwoman calls out before the rat is gone from hearing before turning back to Sif. Going for an assumption she says, "Ah, wish I could carry a spear into parties I had a bad feeling about."

Of course she still carries other weapons but it's not quite the same message as a spear right?

[asynja]

"No one would dare question my right," Sif replies, and she seems rather -- proud of this. Not haughty, per se, but notably proud.

She takes a very, very slow sip of the coffee.

This is the face and motion of someone who has never actually had coffee before.

[to_serve]

Beneath the mask Batwoman's eyebrows arch a bit at the tone but this might be hard to see.

"First cup?" she asks a touch cheerfully.

[asynja]

"Yes!" Sif is very excited about this. She was told of how wonderful coffee was, but hadn't got a chance to try it yet! "It is. My very dear friend became quite fond of the concoction, and I've been meaning to give it a try."

She appears satisfied with it, though.

Thankfully, it's hot, because otherwise -- well, nobody has taught Sif not to chug coffee.

[to_serve]

Batwoman smiles again.

"Have you had any espresso drinks yet? Coffee is good but espresso is divine."


This narrator apologizes for future damage right now...

[chrysopteron]

"Lady Athena?"

Color Iris confused. She looks different.

[asynja]

If only she'd gotten a chance to learn the other pantheons, Sif would be laughing and explaining the equivalency. As it is, maybe someone will teach her, but for now --

She looks over at the speaker, half-confused and half-apologetic and says, "No. Sif. My apologies, if you were seeking someone who looked like me?"

[chrysopteron]

"It's your carriage. And spear, but more so the demeanor."

Dipping at the knee slightly, "Iris. Pleasure to meet you, Sif."

[asynja]

"I think, then, that I would like this Lady Athena." Sif smiles, now, guilty look shaken and replaced with sociable-and-welcoming. "It is of course similarly pleasant to make your acquaintance -- Iris. A lovely name. Simple."

Like 'Sif,' as opposed to 'Heðingunnr.' Let's say she has a slight bias.

[chrysopteron]

"I have other titles, but they are of little use in a place such as Milliways, I believe."

She only uses 'Thaumantias' when others give a last name. It follows the pattern.

"Did something upsetting happen in your world?"

[asynja]

"My full title isn't really worth it either," Sif agrees, and then there's the puzzle of actually answering that question.

Her conclusion is:

"Yes, but -- not the reason for the outfit. Or the weapons. This is just a dinner I do not actually want to appear at."

[chrysopteron]

"Why not?"

Dinners are fun! Right?

[asynja]

"I do not particularly feel like being pretty," is Sif's very simple explanation, "when I feel as if I'm more likely to need to be fighting sooner than later. So. The arms."

Whether it's because she expects an invasion or a fight to break out over the drinks is left unclear.

[mycursedface]

There is a jingle of bangles. No whisper of silken fabric, but there is still the rustle of skirts, complete with...

Hissing. Soft hissing. And the sound of metal sliding against metal (gold feathers, to be exact).

With that accompaniment, Medusa walks into view, carrying a cup of tea, and she claims an armchair herself. She sits with her wings hanging over an armrest, legs crossed underneath her patterned skirt. Nothing fine, just a skirt made and dyed from things she had laying about, but the bangles around ankle and wrist are as gold as her wings, bejewelled and intricate and a bit dusty from everyday use.

Then the gorgon pauses with cup part way to mouth, snakes hissing, head cocked.

"What are you?" she asks, puzzled, her snakes flickering their forked tongues in Sif's direction.

[asynja]

More wings.

Sif is fascinated by wings, and so as this is the second time today she gets to look at someone who has them -- and both times those people approached her -- she seems pleased, despite the incredibly strange nature of the question.

"Me?" she asks, just to clarify -- and then completely fails to wait for an answer, as she decides to just assume it was her Medusa meant and keep talking. "I am Asgardian. You are -- part serpent and part bird?"

[mycursedface]

"Oh, never heard of them." She sounds fascinated by this. "And I'm a gorgon, there are only three of us. And. I'm the only one with snakes in my hair. But my sisters have wings. We're monsters."

[asynja]

"I can tell," says Sif, and she is apparently the type of person, or comes from the type of place, where being a monster is just like being male or being seven feet tall -- it's a simple, easily-defined fact and doesn't say anything about class status or morality or anything along those lines.

Well, maybe a little as far as class status in Asgard proper, but over the Nine Realms, not so much.

"They appear to be very nosy snakes. Or else they just very much like smelling things. I have not met a gorgon before either, so it is a new opportunity for us both."

Rather like the coffee Sif is slooooowly drinking.

[mycursedface]

"We get curious," Medusa says. "Milliways is so very interesting."

[asynja]

"I have only been here twice," Sif confesses, "and it seems -- yes, that is a word I could give it. That or strange. Peculiar?"

Coffee. Sip. It's slowly going away.

"My name is Sif, by the way."

[mycursedface]

"It's all of those things," she says with a quick, brilliant smile that lights up her supernaturally pretty face. "I've been coming for...a very long time.

And I'm Medusa."

[asynja]

"Medusa. A pleasure, I am certain."

Sif offers a hand -- to shake, or to kiss Medusa's once she takes it isn't clear, and it does depend on how the other person responds as to which she will do.