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Discovering where Liv works is not a difficult task — especially not for someone whose adoptive father runs a newspaper. Being a six foot tall blonde who looks like she can benchpress the motorcycle she rides around the city makes one stick in peoples' memories, and the search would eventually bring Mattie Franklin here: to the United Nations.
Where Liv Sigrunsdottir herself is now stalking her way out the front doors with a cardboard box full of her things in her arms, and a very sour expression on her face. The obvious irritation is enough to see that the foot traffic parts for her like the Red Sea.
Even out of her armor, Liv is impossible to mistake for someone else. Her hair's down and the armor has been replaced by jeans and a warm sweater, but it's definitely her.
*
A waif brunette virtually skips after Liv, "Hey! Mis Signrosdi — " There's no question that the fifteen year-old Mattie Franklin has a vested interest in catching up with the Asgardian, even if she can't pronounce the woman's lastname. In her hands is a potted plant: green and happy as she tries to catch the blonde statuesque woman. "Heeeeey!" she calls again. "W-wait! I just want — " she runs up to where Liv is parting foot traffic.
When she finally catches up to the woman, she looks up to try to catch her vision, "Hi. I'm Mattie, I just…" she looks at the plant and then Liv's box, prompting a frown, "…what's going on?"
*
This is far from the first time someone has mangled Liv's last name. She recognizes enough of it to stop and look back over her shoulder, and it takes her a moment to figure out why the brunette looks so familiar. Oh! Liv blinks once, the expression on her face immediately thawing. "Mattie! You look better," she says happily, adjusting her grip on the box to hold it with one arm, propped against her hip. It lets her offer the girl her other arm. Hugs are appropriate in these circumstances, right?
The question gets Liv casting a look back towards the doors, and she makes a bit of a face. "Apparently, I am unable to be trusted as a neutral party," she recites, and although she doesn't roll her eyes, she sure sounds like she wants to. "I'll be fine, don't worry. They've been looking for an excuse to fire me for months."
*
Mattie, full of life, bounce, and energy, easily falls into the hug, giving her hero a two-armed version, complete with a large grin. "Thanks to you! Seriously. I think I might've died in the fire otherwise. Uncle John," aka J. Jonah Jameson, "had said to stay home." Her nose wrinkles and her lips quirk into a lopsided, very toothy, grin, "Think he regrets that decision."
Her expression easily changes at the assertion about the job. "I'm so sorry! Is that because of me?!" She cringes. "The paper — it wasn't… I mean, it was… we were just so thankful that you managed to … I was glad not to be caught inside." She shrugs. "You were amazing! Seriously!"
*
Bumping into someone as vibrant as Mattie right now might have been exactly what Liv needed. She winds her free arm around her waist and, with a mischevious grin, just… stands up straight for the hug, effortlessly lifting the girl off of her feet. "Your Uncle John wasn't wrong. I don't think he could have predicted that your building was going to get up and run around," she says wryly, grinning as she sets her back down.
"It's not because of you," Liv says quickly, holding up her hand. "I mean, getting my name and my face on the front page is what they're citing, but that still wasn't — and I didn't do anything," she says, beginning to look a bit flustered. "All I did was walk out a door, my friends did all the heavy lifting. They actually stopped it."
*
The small girl actually chuckles as she's hoisted into the air. Bright-eyed, she looks up at Liv incredulously as she lands back on her feet. "But you did a lot! You did!! I was so scared when the building started moving. I mean, honestly, you can't imagine what… it was Halloween. Our condo is toast. We're going to have to mov and figure out another place to live… they say the clean up will take months if not years." She frowns slightly. "So while your friends may have done some of the work, you rescued me. That means a lot to me because, well, I like breathing. And living," she manages another side-smirk.
The last has her shaking her head, "It's not fair! You do something heroic and they use that against you? That's awful," so says the kid whose guardian openly attacks Spider-Man. "You were there, being heroic without a mask and the try to hurt you for it. It's awful."
*
"Well. Wherever you move to next, may I suggest somewhere further away from Central Park?" Liv shoots her a lopsided smile and, after a moment's thought, offers Mattie her arm. She needs to carry her things out to where she's parked her bike, but she's also happy to have some friendly company along for the duration. "…seriously, though, find a nice building further away from Central Park. That place is a beacon for sorcerers and while many of them are very good people, your building is proof that some of them very much are not."
Slowly, Liv nods her head from side to side, blue eyes flicking up towards the sky. "It's not fair, no. But it is what it is," she says, shrugging helplessly. "If I wore a mask, I'd probably still have a job, but there's no way people would trust me. So it's a trade-off."
*
"Well…" Mattie chuckles, "I don't get any say. Not really. I mean, I get enough to say I don't want to switch schools if we move, but I mean, I can almost drive," yeah, she really is young. She links arms with Liv and falls into easy step with the tall blonde woman.
"That's ridiculous! People shouldn't wear masks! Makes it harder to tell who're the good guys and who're the bad guys and if they're actually different people, you know?" Her lips twist to the side. "Not fair at all." She manages a very small frown, "What're you going to do now?"
*
"Tell your Uncle I said so. Maybe he'll listen." But probably not. Still, worth a try, right? Arm-in-arm with Mattie, Liv starts walking again, taking care to keep her strides short enough that she isn't making it hard for her to keep up.
Liv can't help but laugh a little. "Masks can be useful, Mattie. If I wore one, it wouldn't be for me," she notes, looking down to offer her a warm smile. "It would be to keep my friends and family safe from all the collatoral damage doing this kind of thing comes with. Honestly, it's those of us who don't wear masks that people should be worried about. We're the reckless ones."
The question, though, gives Liv some pause. "Well. First, I guess I let my roommates know I might need help making the rent this month," she says with a wince. "After that… I don't know. I know a guy who runs a bar, maybe he needs some extra help."
*
"Well… what kind of work can you do?" Mattie's head cants to the side quizzically like a puppy. "I mean, sure you could work at a bar, anyone can work at a bar, but you were just," she points to the UN. "Seems like really different work is all." Her lips purse. "What did you do there? I honestly know nothing about you, but I feel like we're so closely linked together like destiny!"
Why yes, Mattie is enthusiastic.
"Maybe I can help you get work! Uncle John is always hiring at the paper. Keeps saying his reporters are sacrificing researchers and assistants as offerings to the gods or something." She shrugs and clearly doesn't know what Jameson is on about. "But, he is always looking for help. Bet I could put a good word in!"
*
Working at Luke's bar would definitely be a lot different than working at the United Nations, but given the motorcycle that Liv leads Mattie to, maybe it would be a better fit. She releases her arm so that she can get the box settled behind the seat, going digging in the saddlebags for some straps to hold it in place with.
"I am — I was — a translator," Liv replies, glancing over with a small smile. "But if I'm honest, working in that office was kind of like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole. Maybe a bar or the scrap yard would be a better fit. As long as I'm making rent." And then it's her turn to tilt her head a bit like a puppy, her brow furrowing. "…what, at the Bugle? I… maybe?" She blinks owlishly. "I mean, thank you. If you want to try, go for it."
*
"Yeah! The Bugle is pretty much constantly hiring," which is probably a sign that it's not the best place to work. "Which is great because I'm sure they'd have something for you. Uncle John wouldn't want to see you fired because of us — " Mattie insists happily. "And besides, think of the potential! You could move up to something more than research someday, maybe. If you can write. If you can't, then maybe kiss that dream goodbye, but writing seems like a thing that anyone can pick up… that or photography," evidently Mattie really has little understanding of the paper business.
*
Liv's smile goes a bit wry when Mattie notes that the Bugle is constantly hiring. This, somehow, does not surprise her in the slightest. "Just bear in mind that I have no experience in journalism," she says with a laugh. Still… "But if he wants to talk to me about the possibility, then… sure. Why not." If nothing else, it could pay the rent until she found something she's better suited to. "Should I give you my phone number?"
*
"Yeah… that'd be good! Just write down a number for me and I can try to get you all set up. Like I said, Uncle John always has openings," again, not a good sign when an employer is constantly hiring. Mattie grins again, "It'd be good if you could get some work, and then I'd get to see you when I visit the Bugle!" which is semi-frequently.
*
Liv wedges a hand into the cardboard box long enough to retrieve a bit of paper and a pen, quickly scribbling her number down before offering it to Mattie. "If one of my roommates picks up and I'm not there, just leave a message. I promise I'll follow up," she smiles. The pen gets tucked back into the box, which she makes sure is properly secured, before she retrieves her keys from her pocket. "Well. You want a ride home or anything?"
*
A glance is given to the motorcycle and Mattie chuckles. "I can do that! Oh man, someday I want roommates. That'd be so awesome. Living in the city, with some other gals, sitting around drinking…" unsure what she actually would drink as an adult, she lands on, "…tea(?)…" and it's more a question than an actual assurance or promise of a future to come. "Well. I'm just up the block. We're staying at the Hilton for the rest of the week while my Uncle and Aunt figure out a more permanent solution."
*
With a broad grin, Liv swings her way up onto the bike and pats the spot behind herself. "Then it wouldn't be any trouble at all to drop you off, would it? Come on, Mattie, I still need to get in my good deed for the day," she teases. "And the Hilton is on my way."
*
"Awesome!" Mattie settles in the spot behind Liv and too-easily wraps her arms around the much taller woman's midsection. "Sometimes walking can be a real drag. At least we have a good subway system here. Means that I'm not totally stuck despite not driving!"
*
"I took the subway once. That is too confined a space for that loud a mariachi band," Liv reports gravely, one hand coming up to lightly rub her ear.
And then the woman complaining about loud noises starts her motorcycle, whose engine absolutely roars to life. With a small, satisfied smile, Liv lightly pats the arms wrapped around her middle, casts a brief look back towards the UN building, and begins to drive.