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There was a little bit of discontent in the air tonight. Sif had missed out on a many great things due to her current 'working' life. Who would have thought that she would have been so acclimated in Midgard that she was assisting the crazy ass swedish director (who was probably a demon, but whatever!) with writing a script for a multi-lingual romantic comedy that is destined to flop around Christmas Time? It was insane, nuts. But Sif enjoyed every bit of it. She got to be a work horse and dazzle on set with tips and turns and flaunt her ways in heels.
Not that she'd tell anyone.
For even when she arrives at the embassy, she looked like something that walked out of a magazine. High heels, dark hair coiled into a bun (with a few braids here and there), pencil high waisted skirt with a black blouse to boot. The sunglasses she wears were large and an inspiration, and the black silk gloves upon her fingers hid hands that had taken many lives beneath.
As soon as the Lady Sif presses her way through the door, she waits until it was closed. And begins to shed her skin, cursing all the while. Off comes the gloves. Untuck comes the shirt, unbutton goes the skirt and *WHIP!* the shoes! Her feet hurt.
"Hilda! I do hope you've made supper, as late as the hour be!"
*
In the hallway above at the top of the sweeping double stairs that swirl around the overly large foyer, she might very well hear a voice coming from on high that will address her concerns. "Sif, you loud-throated harridan, how dare you profane the silence of this place of introspection with your bellowing." Of course his own call out to her is equally loud, but she does not get a response back from Hilda which might be curious even considering the hour.
But Loki, as he is, takes the steps down into the main foyer with calm movements, his lip curled in amusement. Once they're closer he lets his smile grow a touch and then he offers in explanation, "I gave Hilda the evening off, she is apparently entertaining a mortal suitor. It's a lovely tale of cross worlds love and all that. Except that he has no idea, of course."
That said he walks past her, and _of course_ he's holding a martini glass. "Come, we will see to filling that enormous stomach of yours as we can though it may well bankrupt the treasury." He pauses and eyes her up and down, "Speaking of mortals, however, you are looking terribly Midgardian, Sif."
*
Loki's voice ruins the rest of her night. The smile that would have been upon her face turns into something of a grimace. A squinty-eyed, high brow, lip twisted slight curl that makes her face look impossibly horried. She looked like a haggard old woman, though straightens immediately as she calls out. "Bite Fracks arse, you monk!" Well.. that was the best she could do at such an unexpected insult.
Still, she was getting comfortable, blouse unbuttoned all the way, thankfully a womans shirt hides beneath the blouse she wears as she finally slouches and breathes.
And now, it was time for the hair. Hair that was unpinned as she lets out a quiet snort in reply, her fingers rushing through the darkness to mess up what is now.. a mop atop of her head. "Hilda deserves a break." She comments, her shoulders rolling to ease in some relaxation. "I'm sure she's used a few words that I have never heard that woman spoken before when she returned to a mess one night.."
Though she willingly follows, her hands idly rubbing her stomach to test the size, a deep frown curled upon her lips as she looks lower, her head shaking vigoriously to tear the thought of her eating too much out of her head. "I -do- have a job here, Loki. Just as your midgardian counter part.. whatever it is you do. Teach.. something.." Her hand flits, which soon joins at the small of her back. "I could not very well go out in my armor, or silks from Aifheim. I do not need the stares." She pauses in her steps, then continues on. "Has Fandral come from his quarters since my last visit?"
*
"Do I look like the house mother?" Loki saunters on by, heading towards his study, the central focal point of the house at least for him. Though if one moved the liquor cart it assuredly would travel with it. He swirls the olive in his glass a moment and then pushes open the door, offering for her to join him should she wish. "Come, I'll fix you something. I promise no trickery nor prank. In my time on earth I've learned how to make a rather mean 'sandwich'."
He strolls on in and waves her towards a seat, assuming she'll do what he bids since really there's no reason not to. Other than that he's Loki.
"I really should go back to the university at some point, however. I did take a sabbatical but in some strange ways…" He pauses as he moves towards the door that leads to the servant's kitchen. "I miss the pulse of activity there."
*
"Yes. You do in that robe. And a rather lazy house mother at that." His saunter has her head shaking, following the path to the study, her bare feet wiggling against the floor as she takes a look at the room, then quietly takes a seat. There was a sigh that draws from her lips, her body twist, legs lifting to rest upon the arm of the chair. She even tugs herself into a slight ball, her brows lifted as she comments quietly, "Is it a cow? Would you make me something with a cow in it?" She calls up.
But she could understand his point now. Her head bobbing in a lazy nod, feet soon kicked down as she rises to peruse the liquor cart (if it even is in the room itself). And if it was? She'd take to making an odd mix, brown liquors with white, even a little hint of red. "It makes me feel invisible." Sif admits.
"The hustle and bustle of people, neverminding what you are doing. Yet so involved in their own lives that we're able to sit, watch, and observe. Maybe even marvel at a time." She smiles a little. "I do see the allure of this place. It.. was a welcome surprise.."
*
%R%R"Do you know how many foundlings and errant Asgardians there are in this world currently, Sif?" The door is shouldered open and he wanders inside, "I mean, I have no intention of telling you. But the answer would surprise you." As he says this there's the sound of the refrigerator opening and glassy clinks as various things are pushed around. "I shall prepare for you roast beast." He calls even as he begins the preparations.%R%RMeanwhile the liquor cart idly rolls towards her, offering its caramel coloured novelties for her to taste. Then from the other room again comes the voice. "There has been some sort of kerfluffle with Amora and Fandral, but I have been distracted by my own matters. Tell me, how fare you with my brother?" An ever so slight admonishment perhaps.
*
"Do you know how many foundlings and errant Asgardians there are in this world currently, Sif?" The door is shouldered open and he wanders inside, "I mean, I have no intention of telling you. But the answer would surprise you." As he says this there's the sound of the refrigerator opening and glassy clinks as various things are pushed around. "I shall prepare for you roast beast." He calls even as he begins the preparations.
Meanwhile the liquor cart idly rolls towards her, offering its caramel coloured novelties for her to taste. Then from the other room again comes the voice. "There has been some sort of kerfluffle with Amora and Fandral, but I have been distracted by my own matters. Tell me, how fare you with my brother?" An ever so slight admonishment perhaps.
*
Louis has partially disconnected.
*
"No, but I imagine it's more than I could count upon my fingers." Sif admits this fact. "I still wonder how anyone could compare the might that is Asgard, and to wish to leave it aside to come -here-." She comments idly, still. Even as the cart rolls near, she plucks a tumbler and a few cubes of ice, one of which was dumped into her mouth to chew loudly, the others toppled into the glass. One mixture poured and sipped soon after. Her brows furrow, and with a shrug, she moves onto the next.
"Though I can understand. There are so many more range of man than all of Vanaheim and Asgard alone. And beast as well. And man with powers like our own, those far greater. There is a woman, handsome thing. Handsome as in, she could resemble Hogun if they stood next to each other. Beards and all. But breathes fire like a dragon…" Idle chat.
For the mention of Thor gets a hint of a blush, and a quick swig of liquor. "We fare. Though.. it appears that Amora did have a hiccup and attacked.. some place close to the Hellmouth. A tall building. With golems. She was taken to Asgard after she was subdued. I've yet to hear from your brother of the results."
*
"I am actively ignoring any further news about Amora, you see." Loki says perhaps a touch loudly over Sif's latter words even as he emerges from the kitchen with a small white saucer plate that holds a simple sandwich of roast beef, swiss cheese, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise, and mustard as well with a pickle spear just for her.
He saunters in and affixes her with a glare. "For, you see, if I learn that an individual who has already transgressed against the crown has renewed their treasonous ways then I would be left with no official option beyond seeking their death. Do you understand, Sif?"
Yet as quickly as he says that he pushes past it, granting her the sandwich and then dropping into a seat at one of the over-stuffed chairs nearby. He collapses into it comfortably and then takes up his drink once again.
*
Louis has partially disconnected.
*
Sif casts her eyes towards Loki in a narrowed manner, a pained expression upon her face but his words immediately forgotten as he presents her with .. a sandwich. A roasted beast. This has her tumbling back into her chair with a slight bounce, subdued from the talk of tragedy and punishment for now, her legs curled up upon the couch that she was on, plate resting atop of lifted knees, the sandwich carefully gathered as she takes a bite.
"Umnfhumph!" She says, chewing. Chewing and chewing, her fingers pressed against the side of her lip to swallow.
"Vanaheim." She states, changing the subject without a moments notice. "I wish to take a small party there to celebrate the Winter Solstice, if you so allow." She states, even if he did not allow it, she would do it either way. "We need light in our lives." She takes another bite, her head shaking. The sandwich was that darn good. Who knew?
*
"Thor would have more purview for that trip than I," Loki crosses his leg over his knee and seems to become rather comfortable, even going so far as to shift his robe over his legs and to dangle a slipper from the toe of one foot. "Though I doubt it would raise a diplomatic incident, you should still have words with him in case he has other plans in play." Of course saying that makes Loki smile a touch, but he does not voice whatever might cause him to smirk.
"So long as you take someone to chaperone Volstagg if he's going." He reaches forward to pour her a glass of ice water and then offers it towards her, just to help her swallow since she seems really rather hungry. "Is that the extent of your future plans?"
*
"Thor has no choice in the matter. He's going." Sif says, -after- she swallowed the bit of food she had taken. "Though, no. No diplomatic incidents to be shared there. It's purely for entertainment and good tidings for our bretheren."
She reaches out to take the glass of water, having a little sip for herself as she carefully balances it upon her knee. Though, after a bit of silence, the sandwich was discarded upon the plate, the glass of water taken again. "I admit, I have a bit of a motive for the visit. I plan to find our parents." She pauses, as if to clarify. "Heimdall.. he's silent on the matter but I intend to question him fully to start."
*
It's rare that Loki finds himself speechless, and so it may surprise her when he says to her simply, "Pardon?" His brow furrows as he looks upon her and takes a sip of his martini. It's the space of a few moments before he adds, "You plan to find whose parents?"
*
Sif doesn't look at him, only takes a sip of water, before placing that too upon the tray with the other drinks. "Mine and Heimdall's." She states quietly. "Of all this time, we were gifted to the court, have you ever wondered what happened to them?" She asks now, looking towards him. Clearly this alone had bothered her for some time, "Surely, candles are held to the love that I feel for Odin and Frigga and I regard them as if they were my own. But.. I wonder."
*
For a moment Loki tilts his head to the side and another sip of his martini is taken. But then he looks back towards Sif and shakes his head, "I haven't given it too much thought, shameful of me I am sure." He offers though he shakes his head a bit.
His lip curls a touch as he sets his glass down upon the cart with a faint clink, then reaches to start mixing himself a fresh martini. He gets the shaker and the bottle, adds some of the ice that he had given to her. Shaken, not stirred. "What brought this desire on for you?" He cocks his head to the side, "What has turned the eyes of the warrior woman inwards such that she thinks of her past?"
*
"Certainly, you wouldn't have." Sif murmurs. "Frigga and Odin have been with you from the beginning. You've no need to question others parentages." It was a sad little smile, though it fades as her legs cross, foot bobbing.
And yet, to answer simply? "Your brother. This place. I've viewed a wedding once, not too long ago, of a woman who was escorted down the isle and given away as a bride to her betrothed by her father. T'is not to say that I wish the same, but there are nights that I do wonder how I could have been with their counsel." She smiles a little. "And that's not to say that I'm anticipating marriage with your brother even though we court. But, in this heart of mine there is more room. Even though I'm sure my affection for you, dear Loki, takes the biggest parts of it." She teases.
*
A wry snort comes from him as he shakes his head, "Well, I shall wish you good luck on seeking your progenitors. I cannot see their discovery being harmful for you." He again takes another drink as he lounges to the side. "And if you have Thor's aid in this, then you assuredly will succeed for fate definitely favors him."
He sets his drink aside and folds his arms over his chest, perhaps from a touch of the autumn chill. "Of course, if I can be of use to you… you have but to let me know."
*
"Thank you." Sif finally smiles. Though it drops once again as she reaches for a drink, no martini, but a darker coloured drink. Poured, iced. Sipped. "Thor does not know of my plans yet. He does not even know of the envoy to Vanaheim. Though I do not make this choice to find my mother and father lightly."
She furrows her brows slightly, then cants a little grin. "I have two things to ask of you then. Since you have put the offer to words."
*
%R%RA lift of his head is given, curiousity lighting his featuers as he looks across the way, green eyes meeting hers. "I am fond of you, Sif. You know this. But you should know if you ask of such thing formally then the price shall be yours to bear and bear alone." It's a casual warning, a warning amongst friends. But then again Loki is a creature who seems to make such statements as he will.%R%RBut another sip is taken after those words as he looks across the way to her. "Yet ask what you will and I shall see what I can offer in return."
*
A lift of his head is given, curiousity lighting his featuers as he looks across the way, green eyes meeting hers. "I am fond of you, Sif. You know this. But you should know if you ask of such thing formally then the price shall be yours to bear and bear alone." It's a casual warning, a warning amongst friends. But then again Loki is a creature who seems to make such statements as he will.
But another sip is taken after those words as he looks across the way to her. "Yet ask what you will and I shall see what I can offer in return."
*
"I know full well the weight of what I am to ask of you and the consequence it shall hold." She sits forward then, her fingers folded politely around her drink. "Tis like any other relationship. A give and take, as it were."
But she considers this for a very long moment, her gaze falling into something a little more grave, a touch sinister. But then it lightens considerably as she smacks her hands upon her lap, then rises to a stand. "I shall take slumber here in Thor's quarters until his return. I do hope that is not a problem with you." Of course, she does not ask of her offer. She was anticipating -not- to.
*
Loki _rolls_ his eyes to the side, waving a hand absently. "Bah, and here I was expecting something of import." He gestures with his glass, liquor sloshing for a moment as he murmurs, "Do as you would with your foolish playing at love. You ask of me permission to surprise my brother. Might as well ask me if I can run down to the chemist and pick you up some condoms."
A harumph comes from him and it's clear he's mildly annoyed, especially as he shakes his head and chuffs again in indignation.
*
There was a slight chuff of laughter as Sif strolls towards the doors. "T'was not permission to surprise him. I planned to stay whether you approved or not. Tis said that this place needs a womans tou—.." Her hand presses against her lips, suppressing a HORRENDOUS burp. "..touch." She clears her throat then, back pedalling to take the brown liquor from the cart. Two bottles. Not just the one.
And as she heads out of the study, her voice comes, merrily, verily and sing-song. "We don't use condoms!"
*