1963-08-25 - Put the Glad in Gladiator
Summary: Amora tracks down Hercules and the two chat while finding his armor.
Related: http://marvel1963mush.wikidot.com/log:1963-08-25-amor-de-cosmos
Theme Song: Zero to Hero
amora hercules 

Hercules stands looking over the massive hole in the ground, ignoring the copious emergency tape strung to keep people out. Also ignoring the construction workers (DAMAGE CONTROL) who are cursing him as he lifts chunks of asphalt and rebar and tosses them carelessly aside. "Gods damn it all! How am I supposed to find my mace and my raiment in this maze of a city without the help of servants! Or perhaps other heroes! Ah, if Jason were here he would gather a boon group of companions and we would make a quest of it! But now, sadly, I find myself grubbing through the earth. You there!" He bellows to a guy in overalls and workbooks sitting in a Caterpillar bulldozer and eating a sandwich. Who me?, he seems to say. "Yes, you! Where are my clothes, mortal!" He shakes his fist while the rest of the construction workers and some of the financial drones all look at each other wondering if everyone else is seeing what they are seeing.


A click of high heels on pavement follows as Amora sashays down the sideways toward the Greek hero, her human guise in place but no less radiant than her Asgardian form. Several cat calls followed her as she walked, blonde curls bouncing with each step. She wore a green dress that hugged her curves, belted around her waist with thick leather belt. Sunglasses and a wide brimmed hat topped off her outfit and she paused just behind Hercules with a sultry smile pulling at her ruby painted lips.

"Do stop yelling at the mortals, darling. You'll scare them." Her voice was low and soft, sweet and tempting. She looked at him over the rim of her sunglasses, arching a golden brow upwards as she looked him up and down.

"I'll help you."


Hercules' attention is drawn from the current focus of his frustration, much to the relief of the 'dozer driver. His dark countenance now lights up as he spots the Enchantress. Having ruined a three-piece suit, a pair of wool slacks with a checkered vest over a button-down shirt and oxfords, and a marching band uniform, he is now sporting his longest-lived mortal ensemble: he is shirtless under a black fur jacket and wears a pair of tight Levi-Strauss jeans and old-fashioned steel-toed workbooks.

He looks himself up and down, "Twas the only garb the shopkeeper had that would fit. And yet unfit for a prince!" He looks back up, from Amor's feet all the way to her face, managing the whole route without any pause. "But now thou art here to help me. Most excellent! I apologize but we were not fully introduced. I am Hercules, son of mighty Zeus, Lion of Olympus. Our host did refer to you as Enchantress, but I know not if that be thine name of title." He bows his head as he introduces himself.


A brilliant smile followed his words and Amora reached up to remove her sunglasses for a moment. "Amora, Lady Amora the Enchantress of Asgard. It's a pleasure to finally have the chance to speak with you all on my own, Son of Zeus. Please, call me Amora. I've come to help you in your search and to find you /whatever/—" Her voice dropped lower, "You might need."

Her pale green eyes lingered on his figure for a long moment, interest alight in her gaze and in her sultry smile. Then she replaced the sunglasses and held out a hand.

"Of course, getting you suitably attired would be of the utmost importance. You haven't been going to the proper shops if they've been unable to cloth your form."


Hazel eyes sparkle at the offer of sartorial help. "Splendid! You are just the thing to raise my spirits this dismal day. And once properly attired, with you at my side we shall make short work of this middling quest." He offers his arm to her. "Please lead me, dear Amora. And as we walk regale me with your rich history, for the Prince of Power would know how one as exquisite as you was raised by such barbarians as the hosts of Asgard. We hear stories about them in fair Olympus, but in truth it is difficult to credit that a race could be so backwards and monstrous. How did you escape from them?"


There was no pause as Amora hooked her arm through his offered one, and she seemed to preen all the more under his compliments, tossing golden curls over her shoulder and laughing with a sound that mirrored bells or wind chimes in the summer's breeze. She patted his arm with her opposite, her head canting to the side toward him as she lightly stepped over the pavement with a click of heels.

"Oh, I did not escape. I was exiled you see, some months ago. I was denied by birth right by the All Father.. and cast out. I've been forced to remain here on Midgard on my own as a result." She grimaced faintly, her voice dropping into a low sigh as she led him down the street toward more expensive and high class store fronts.

"You see, I've had a rough time of it.. adjusting to the mortals. And it does not help that my Princes—Thor and Loki alike.. have been less than kindly to me." She stuck out her lower lip as if in a pout.


Hercules stops in their stroll and looks at Amora with shock. "You were exiled from Asgard? What foolishness is this? I had understood Odin to be an obstinate and doddering old fool, but is he blind!?" The Olympian shakes his head. "And these princes that you mention… like father like sons, eh? I have heard nothing of Thor but of his brutishness and baseness, his cowardice is legendary in Olympus. Of Loki, well… I must say that he treated me respectfully and as a proper host the other night."

His eyes wander across the shop windows noting the latest styles with a bemused air. "Ah well, dear Amora, you are better off here it seems. By my side. Put that lip back where it belongs before it suffers injury. Rest assured, no one will treat you with such callous disregard and disrespect while I am near."


A flutter of dark eyelashes met Hercules' defense and promise of protection, then she was leaning her head against his shoulder with a faint sound of a sniffle escaping her. "Oh, you have no idea how much it means to hear you say that. Truly." She reached up with her free hand to wipe under her sunglasses at her under eye, as if she were tearing up.

"I've been so misused, it breaks my heart that my fellow countrymen should act as they have. But you do me such a boon today, just by being at your side, you've cheered me so, Hercules." A slow smile pulling at her lips as she spoke and started forward again, tugging him along.

"But enough about me, why are you were in Midgard?"


His face darkens with anger and perhaps shame for a moment before a rueful chuckle rumbles forth from his massive chest. "I was exiled. By /my/ all-father. Once again I offended him. As if it was my fault that I didn't know those naiads and that cupbearer were reserved for /His/ use only." He exhales. "And when he found us all in bed, well… this is the crux of my problem you see. Once he was done yelling at me and let me tell you he let his control slip so much that the handsome cupbearer burst into flames—he literally flung me from the height of Olympus." He mimes kicking, as if a football for an extra point. "And in this fantastic city have I landed."

He nods his head to the sound of soul music playing in a nearby record shop and watches a couple of giggling Air France stewardesses on leave cross the street with approval. "At first I thought it was a punishment, but now I am beginning to believe it was a gift. Even if an unintended one." He pulls her arm, and her body—closer to his, but not lecherously. "So let us be two outcasts having a wonderful walk through New York in search of my lost treasure. Let there be new adventures for the mortals to sing about, and let our names ring out here again as is proper!"

A golden brow shot upwards at his tale and she let go a smooth whistle, tilting her head back to look up at him again. "Hmmm, a naiad.. Don't think I've had the pleasure of their company in bed before. Was it worth it?" She asked, a curve of her smile following. "You see, such exploits as told in Asgard would have them label you most fouly. It's been implied that I traded love for goods, Loki said that of me the other night you see. The knavish prigg!"

"As if he has room to bandy about such names.." She shook her head, and sighed, her lips pursing together briefly.

"Still, I am glad that there is the positive of our meeting here.. with our exiles being such as they are.. I'm not likely have mine revoked any time soon. Odin set out an impossible task for me to ever get my exile lifted.." She waved a hand and then shrugged with a roll of her shoulders.


When Hercules smiles honestly, it is a wonderful thing. Dazzling. And his eyebrow quirks, as if to say, "yes, I am naughty, but you love me for it.""Passion for life is always worth it. And in this case it has led me away from my frankly boring existence of repeated parties, drink, women and the occasional crushing of giants, other monsters and my insufferable brother Ares and into your arms."

He sneers scornfully at her description of Asgardian mores and then something begins to smolder in him as she explains the meaning behind Loki's words. His skin increases in temperature noticeably, as if a furnace deep inside him had been stoked. This one's emotions and appetites run cleanly from core to surface with next to no artifice in the way. And easily manipulated by the right pair of legs. "Didst thou speak true?" He has lapsed into horrible faux-Shakespearean English again with his rage. "Did that dog disgrace your honor? And in the company of others!?"


Amora slowed her steps to a halt, turning to face him fully and reach out a perfectly manicured hand toward his shoulder and come to rest there. She smiled up at him, looking at him from over the rim of her sunglasses. Her expression one seemingly of utter shock. "Oh dear me no, Loki did not do this in public…" The this time was held back.

"It was private, when I confessed my feelings for his brother. I think it was born of jealousy.. He and I have a history.. But until recently I had feelings for his brother. Granted, Thor rejected me.. repeatedly.. but still." She grimaced faintly.

"There's no need for you to defend my honor, truly.." Even if the tone of her voice begged him to do exactly that. "I find you to be a breath of fresh air Hercules, a much needed ray of sunshine in my life. You've cheered me so already, that is more than enough to soothe my torments."


It seems that the god of strength is about to argue with her words, to persuade her to let him defend her honor, when he notices something out of the corner of his eye. A short, very rotund man in his mid 20s attempting to wear Hercules' Olympian clothing. His jaw drops and for a moment he is too stunned for words. His finger raises, extending his arm behind it, and points at the man who is walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street with a jaunty step and a bottle of whiskey in one hand.

"Thief," Hercules whispers. "Thief," he says more loudly. "THIEF!" his eyes glower under bunched brow. At this final shout the man peers around until he spies the murderous godling and then he pales. "Me?!" he mouths silently.


Amora paused, hitching a golden brow upwards as he halted mid-conversation and pointed. She twisted on her toes, catching sight of the rather portly mortal donning Hercules' clothing. She sighed and rolled her eyes, muttered a word and with a gesture and snap of her fingers, sent magic over at the poor man. It wrapped him in a swirl of green smoke, a matching swirl coating Hercules' own garments before she muttered another word.

Then between one blink and the next the clothes were switched. Hercules with his proper garb and the mortal in ill-fitting clothing that clearly wasn't meant for him. A grin escaped her and she waved at the petrified mortal and looked at him over the rim of her sunglasses. "Better run." She winked at said 'thief'.


The man tries to tear his eyes from Amora at the same time as he tries to collect the drool leaking from his lips. Eventually he succeeds at the former. One more look at Hercules and his sheer size and the unlucky man turns and runs. He trips over the long jeans he is suddenly wearing, as well as the oversized boots. Thankfully the huge fur coat cushions his fall. A moment later he is up on his feet again and scampering away.

He needn't have worried. Hercules is alight with joy as he looks over himself, his arms, his chest, his legs. He twists his torso one way and turns his head over the opposite shoulder to make sure it's all right down the back. "Finally! Finally the Lion of Olympus can engage in sport and battle without fear!" Although he STILL cannot fathom how it came to be that the naked human form is now something to be ashamed of. Barbarians all! Now he looks back to Amora with true affection. He bends to one knee, folding an arm across it and lower his head. "Fair Amora, the Enchantress. Today you have given me a great gift out of naught but the goodness of your heart. When I see you, I see a noble heart beating inside a perfect breast. Truly you are a rose growing amidst the ashes of this world. I am in your debt."


A grin, with a flash of white teeth followed the poor man's stumbling and she chuckled lowly. Her attention drawing back to Hercules as he admired his armor that had been returned and she arched a brow upwards, eyeing him up and down appreciatively. A flutter of eyelashes followed as he swept to his knee before her, and she pressed a hand to her lips as if in surprise. A faint sigh that was half a breathless gasp followed his compliments and she reached out a hand toward him, bending at the waist to interpose her features in his personal space.

"I thank you, dearest Hercules for such heartfelt praise have I never heard. Your most gracious and kind demeanor have proven more than a boon to my aching heart." She murmured softly, her voice rich and as supple as molten chocolate. Her eyes glinted with emotion as she spoke and she reached out to try to cup his cheek.

"I think you should come with me to my abode… where we might better celebrate the return of your famed armor.."


Hercules rises, and as he does his arms slip around Amora's back and beneath her seat; when he stands fully he is holding the Enchantress in his arms. "Lead on, fair Amora, and I shall follow." Viridian smoke rises from nowhere and snakes around the couple, thickening and wrapping ever more tightly around them like a boa constrictor until with a final spasm it tightens to the point of nothingness, leaving… nothing… behind.

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