1963-11-16 - Clean This %$^@ Up
Summary: Phobos and Sif discuss goats. Misunderstandings and broken kitchen fixtures ensue.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
sif alexander 


Alex wastes no time in making himself at home at his new residence. His room set up and his belongings all unpacked, he had taken the time to acquaint himself with the grounds and the house over the course of the day, all the while half-expecting Sif to erupt from the adjoining room with a wooden sword to beat him senseless with. But that never actually happened. Still, as instructed, his guard is up, even as he rummages through the fridge for an evening snack. Fridge open, bent over, back to the door. Apparently for all of his training, he seems to have forgotten the basics.

*

It first starts with a hand. That wash of heat upon the back of his neck, his collar gripped and soon.. with a toss by the straightening of her hand, Lady Sif appears just when the timing is right to chuck the poor boy from the fridge that contained the food. That is, if she had gotten her hands upon him or not, or how far that she has chosen to throw him, it all remains to be seen. Not by Sif though, at the moment she did not care.

The bag of apples were drawn from the fridge, and promptly she steps outside through the back. The door was promptly shut behind her, and yet? Outside? It sounded like pure hell walked the earth.

There was a loud scream of Frick and Frack, the oversized goats, the sound of Lady Sif swearing obscenities, and soon cool tones as the large, traveling beats loudly smack down the apples that they were given. The house shakes briefly, and then there was a quiet rumble.. one which was breached by the opening and slamming of her door, Sif's back pressed towards it to breathe as if she had ran for her life.

*

Phobos flies through the air as if he were a small sack of potatoes, landing with a thud against the wall, and falling onto his ass an instant later. It takes him a moment to recover his bearings, and he regains his composure just in time to see Sif escape through the back door. He moves toward it to follow the woman, curious what the noise is all about, but before he can reach the door the Asgardian has come back inside, sounding as though she'd just run like her life depended on it. "What the fuck," he mutters, forgetting his manners at least for the moment. Being thrown bodily across a room, and then his senses assaulted by the thundering of giant beasts will do that. "Could have just asked me to move," he says tersely. "I'd have moved. What the hell are those? And why are they so /loud/?"

*

His swear actually makes her laugh a little, turning to look out of the door.. the last of the horn of Frack as he backs into the large stable was seen, before she turns to face the young man with a slight shrug. "I told you that I would attack." She says evenly. "Never did I ever say how."

With that said, she moves around the young man, pushing the fridge door shut. It was then that she moves to the sink to begin to wash her hands, and scrub her arms as she speaks. "Thor's goats." As if it made all the sense in the world. "Frick and Frack. His traveling companions when he does not wield his treasure. I care for them as a favor to him, and because I've made it my duty out of fondness and love for the Thunderer." She snorts.

"Though if I were aware of how much they -could- eat, I would have thought otherwise." As to why they were loud? Frick and Frack were pretty much assholes.

*

Alex gives a nod, making no argument about the manner of her attack. She did say, after all. It was just that the prospect of a meaty sandwich distracted him. Kids gotta eat. Not unlike goats. As to the goats, well, Alex grew up on a farm in Iowa. He knows goats. Goats are assholes, no matter their size. He cranes his head to look out the door himself, but misses the view of the animals before they retreat to their shelter. "At least they seem to obey your commands," he comments. "Most of the goats I've known do what they like, regardless of your feelings on the matter." Many pairs of shorts, ruined. "An odd choice of pet though, I have to say. I've always been more of a dog person."

*

Once the washing of her arms and hands were done, Sif takes a towel to dry herself off. "For the most part, they do as they will." Sif confesses. They only obey the Odinson, and at times even that was curious! Though, she'll not tell Alex of the day that one actually attempted to eat and chew her hair. That was a mess.

"You've spent time here, your whole life on Midgard at most, yes?" She asks quietly. "When have you known gods to be so.. mundane?" She doesn't stop him from eating, no. But she did pull up a stool to sit, intent on conversation than anything else. "There are wolves in the back as well. A pack. I am denmother to them as well. And my two steeds that I've yet to name. I feel that .. I neglect them so."

*

Alex nods again, "Yes, I grew up on a farm in the midwest," he says. Whether nor Sif would be able to pick up the slight accent, Alex hasn't considered. Most people overlook it, for which he is silently thankful. "My father spent most of the time I knew him trying very hard to live a normal life, until he was called back to Olympus, and I was taken by the demon. After that, I didn't have much involvement with the Gods, apart from the occasional visit from dear old dad. He made sure I was provided for, but didn't exactly take an active role in my upbringing." Bitter much? You bet. Phobos and Ares have had a bit of a strained relationship ever since, although Alex has never had any qualms trading on his father's name, so to speak. What's the point in being the son of War if you can't say so? "Not all animals need names," he comments. "Certainly didn't name all of the beasts on the farm. Makes it harder to let them go, if it comes to that."

*

It was sad, Sif could relate almost to a T of this young mans upbringing. Though, one thing was for sure, she didn't remember her parents. She couldn't see their faces, she couldn't hear their voices within her heart. They were just.. gone.

"If you would be so kind as to fetch me a drink of water.. and ice.." She says quietly, clearing her throat. Bitterness? Yes.

"Your father, perhaps I should pay him a visit. Though, I do have a question. What of your mother? Do you know her?" And there was a little grin, one that gave credence to her conversation with Thor. "Is that what this is all about?" She asks, her tone teasing. "Your father wishes you a mother in the Goddess of War?"

What a bitch.

*

Alex moves to find a glass. "My mother died in childbirth. I suspect her mortal body was not built to withstand an Olympian pregnancy," he says flatly. He never knew his mother, and has no real attachment to the idea of one. She was never present, and therefore not a factor in his thoughts. Her death is a simple fact, and little more. His father is the one has feeling about, and most of them aren't warm. "I don't pretend to know what my father thinks, but I don't imagine he wants a proper mother for me after all these years," he says. "Unless he's lost his mind. Pay him a visit, if you can. He comes to me, when he pleases. I have no direct line to Olympus, or a means of travelling there. If you have the means, you don't need my blessing, but I'd love to be a fly on the wall for that discussion," he says, filling up the glass three-quarters of the way with water from the tap, before moving back to the fridge to look in the icebox for cubes.

*

"I apologize. The joke was crass."

Though, she does note the hint of animosity within his voice, her brows lowering and lifting all at once. "I fail to see what purpose there would be for you to ride along with that visit.." She answers honestly. "If it's to mock him if it does not go the way he plans, it would be a detriment to your tutelege. He would see me as unfit.. which is truth, but he would also see me as a force to be reckoned with. Also true." Clearly someone thinks highly of herself.

"He could also see that I seek to keep you to myself and away from his grasp."

*

"No apology needed. If I were in your position, I'd be skeptical too. Frankly, I don't know what my father was thinking. I'm sure he has his reasons, but damned if I know what they were," Alex says with a bit of a shrug, rising from the icebox with the glass of ice-water, and moving to place it in front of Sif. While willing to fetch her a drink this time, he silently hopes it won't become a regular thing. He's not here to be her servant, after all. "I would never mock my father," he says after a moment. Not to his face, at least. "He and I may have a difficult relationship, but I respect him," Mostly. It's more that he obeys him, with full knowledge of Ares' power and strength; not fear, certainly. After a moment, though, he asks, ".. do you plan to keep me to yourself?" He cocks his head a bit, looking to the woman for an honest answer.

*

As he places the water in front of her, she reaches out to take, swirling the ice within the glass with a faint twist of her wrist. She draws it to her lips to sip, quietly murmuring her thanks. In fact, she doesn't have a plan when it comes to seeking out Ares. Though, at this point in time, there was a little worry when it comes to the young man under her care.

His question though, honest as it was, takes her back. Where she was joking, there was a thought. A thought that has her thinking to Thor and his words. A son. The shock upon his face while amusing, it bore serious consideration. Yet she was no ones mother. No.. there was something else. Something of what a tactician would think.

"Possibly." She finally answers. "I would like to speak to the Crowned Prince more, though.. I'm unsure of which discussion could come, should come first." Now she was set to thinking, the glass lifted as she takes another sip. "It all depends on He. Crowned Prince. If we were to keep you as our own you may have to renounce. But that is neither here, nor there. First.. I plan to introduce you to my love on even setting, and see men laugh and be merry whilst they feast. And then.. we shall travel to Vanaheim. I assume you shall travel with us? Or stay behind upon this earthly coil?"

*

"And do I get a say in this?" Alex asks, his feelings on the subject not well-hidden. "Am I a prize to be won, in the glorious battle to come between the Asgardian and Olympian Gods of War?" He clenches his fists a little bit, digging his nails into his palms to vent some of the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "I have great respect for you, Lady Sif. You have treated me better than I imagine you think I deserve, under the circumstances. But know that if your plan is to hold me hostage from my own family, I will not sit idle and allow it. I was taken against my will once. Never again. My life is my own. Even Gods of War know fear," he says, his voice darkening.

*

ROLL: Sif +rolls 1d50 for a result of: 6

*

"Yes. Of course! Why, it would be a drea—.." And then she stops cold. His further words did not shake her. No, but there was a slight twitch of her lip that nearly turned into a snarl. And yet, she stays her hand. The glass of water was taken, sipped, set down carefully, fully turning towards him now to regard him in kind. It was then, that it happens. The mortal seeming that she carries so close to her actual form slowly melds away. It wasn't as if she had become a different person all together, but she gets infinitely larger. A slow grow over time, a grow that nearly cracks the stool but yet, she stands. Her height, while typical of an asgardian, was much larger than a mortal woman's could ever hope to be. And she looms.

"For this world that you are halfway apart of, do not think of me as one of -them-." She hisses, leaning over, a true God, a visage that may only be seen just once before the spillage of blood. It was not terrifying, she was still as she was, fairest of the fair..

"You live among the weak, the rapists, the pillagers of man most uncouth and unclean! And you dare.. dare to insinuate that -I-, she who decimate bloodlines, she who sings the cry of war that echoes across echelons and eons, seek to take from but a child who sups upon the candy that is his life?" Her head shakes, the dark curtain of her hair spilling upon her shoulders, even perhaps dancing along his very eyes. "NAY." A large hand lifts, slamming home upon the counter top which shatters and cracks, crumbling beneath that very action. "I know of fear." She intones. "And I very well may be just the one to show you."

But then she settles, drawing herself backwards so that her mortal seeming could be realized again, her shoulders lifting and lowering again as she blows out a thick of air. "I must tend to my horses. Task of the day. Clean this shit up."

And with that, she departs out the back door, slamming it behind her.

*

Alex takes a step back as Sif's godly form takes shape, watching without expression. If there is fear in him, he is its master, and it will not show. What strikes and silences him is not that he is afraid of what Sif might do, but what this display of force and power proves her capable of. Just as he does not fear his father, he cannot help but respect the power, and bow to it accordingly. He doesn't speak, doesn't argue, doesn't offer excuses or apologies. He is silent. It's for the best. The woman slams the counter and shatters it, and he watches wordlessly, moving only enough to avoid shrapnel. She departs, leaving her final instruction, and he lets out a breath at last.

Where is the broom.

*

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