1963-11-29 - Intruder Alert
Summary: Adam lands upon the rear grounds of the Bellator; a discussion of Hela's boob is had.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
adam sif 

Adam has been exploring the skies, flexing his powers and testing their limits. Part of that has been simply experiencing flight, examining the feeling of the different air pressures at different heights. Pondering the stars in the night. He wonders about what's out there - they say aliens have arrived on this world now.

When he descends into the backyard of the ranch, he isn't trying to invade anyone's privacy. He definitely senses some odd energies here, residual elements unfamiliar from his time on Earth. Interesting. He wonders who lives here.


The Goddess of War, that's who! Dun-dundun DUNN!

Though that is to say that she was currently not sleeping. She remained upon the stool of the kitchen, a freshly brewed cup of coffee within her hand. Robe tied around her waist yet hung open ever so slightly. She had the current look of someone so tired that they could even waft to sleep where they sat. Thankfully, her dark hair remains braided in odd places and hung high upon her head in a top bun that would make any mortal woman jealous.

Upon the rear grounds however, the horses begin to stir with their new companion. Kicking up feet, whinnying loudly, fighting back against their stalls.

Frick and Frack prove most frightening in their own house. The horrid screams the loud, oversized goats produce was one of an alarm to Sif. So when she heard the noise? The cup was dropped immediately, robe shorn to reveal her battledress.

(Battle-Dress: Lingerie. Black! FOR SHAME!)

And oversized blade and shield that hung upon the wall near the back door as she bursts through them at a slight run.

"Who dares breaches the ground of The Bellator!" She cries out, suddenly alert, and ready to fight.


Adam turns and looks towards the armed woman. He shows no signs of fear or startlement, despite her obvious weaponry. His eyes cast a warm, amber glow that lights the early morn hours well before dawn, creating a circle of illumination about him, his skin lambent.

"I am called Adam," he says simply. "I did not mean to frighten you. I was merely curious," he says, then peers more closely, "What manner of being are you?"



At least he speaks english. But Sif remains armed and tight, her fingers gripping the hilt of her broadsword, her other hand holding tight to the handle of the shield. For a time, she says nothing, only studying the man the way a warrior might, her expression a clear blank slate until she finally decides to speak.

"I am not frightened." She states plainly. But she did have a ward here, who was possibly still asleep and a lady Enchantress to worry about. "But I am Asgardian. In my mortal seeming." She takes a few steps closer, bare feet padding the dirtied ground, creating a circle around him to examine all sides. "What manner of being are you?" She echoes his words. Curious, naturally, but still ready to do battle.


Adam cocks his head, "If you do not fear, then why would you bring weapons? Do you attack those who serve as no threat to you? I do not come to harm you, I assure," he says.

His own feet, also bare, aren't actually touching the ground, hovering a bit. He wears a flowing, cream-colored poet's shirt and dark slacks. He allows her to circle him as she will, his long hair tucked behind his ear as he follows with his gaze.

"I am…Adam," he says. "There is no word for what I am. Those who made me simply called me Him. Mythologically, I am like Prometheus or the monster from Frankenstein or numerous other figures. Born without mother or father, beholden to none, powerful beyond measure."


"To breach the home of a Goddess warrants such." Sif murmurs, continuing that catlike prowl around the man. "To breach the home of -any- without cause nor pause warrants such." Her broadsword lifts, smacking against her shield, her shoulders haunched. "You do not come to do me harm, but what of those of my employ? My Ladies in wait. My ward?" The broadsword thumps against her shield again. "State your intentions, or we shall do battle."

Though, as he describes as to what he is, there was a faint purse of her lips. Greek. How odd. "But created by whom?" She asks, slowing in her steps. "Your creators are your fathers. Your mothers. Whom?"


Adam shakes his head, "I do not know their names. I know that I destroyed them, because they wanted to change me. Control me. Make me a puppet," he says.

"I mean no harm to you or anyone. I am only seeking to understand. Myself. The world. Others. And if you were to attack me, I would simply fly away. If that is your intent, I may do so, but I have no desire to harm you."


The shield lifts, the sharp tip of it scratches against the top of her head. It was soon shucked upon her bare shoulders, the broadsword soon attached as she steps away from the man without a word. Her hand lifts to bang upon the cabins of Frick and Frack, only to hear them still in their rustling. This was good. "You speak of all parents, young friend." Sif says evently. "Though with luck, I have yet to feel the guiding hand of such, though one makes me wonder if the All-Father and his Love took the reigns in that regard." They did. For a thousand years they've sent her to the Valkyries. And she came back changed.

"Very well." She states in a commanding tone, crossing the grounds to the stables, her hand lifting to smack hard against the wood to still the horses as well. "Ask. I shall try to provide the knowledges you seek. Adam. I have learned, that I have an instructors hand recently. Though I fear if I take another ward, my enchanted shall have me feathered and tarred."


Adam shakes his head, "I have no need of protection. I learn by exploring, by pressing, by…experiencing," he says. "Perhaps I should have let you attack me. I would have learned something from that. But I do not wish to hurt you. You are beautiful and I like beautiful things," he says.

"What are you doing here, if you are a goddess? I thought they lived on mountaintops and other realms."


"You mistake me when I offer -you- protection." Sif grins, moving towards the bench but before, removing her blade. It was settled upon her lap as she examines it, flipping it front and back, leaning towards the side to gather the sharpening rock. Though, the mention of her being beautiful allows a moment of redness to appear upon her cheeks, which she mentally bats back with a cross look in his direction.

"We are here to protect this realm." She states plainly. "We Asgardians find these mortals interesting. Their ingenuity, their faith. Some of us wish for them to worship us again to bring us great power that we've felt over our lives." Her shoulders lift in a faint shrug, in which she now notes her state of dress.

"The Greeks live on mountaintops. Our world resembles close to what you see here now." She stands then, drawing a hand upright, allowing her sword to lay against the bench. "I shall return." And with that, she goes inside to actually -dress-. If there is no threat, then there is no threat.


Adam moves to follow her to the door, having no sense of decorum per se to realize that she had meant to leave him behind. She said she would return, but, if he goes with her, then there's no need for her to return and he can save her the effort.

"I have wondered what it is like teo be worshipped. Some have likened me to a god. A new god," he says. "What do you find fascinating about these humans? How are they different from the gods?" he says, obviously full of many questions even as he barges into her house.


Into the kitchen she goes, removing her shield to hang upon the wall. Drawing down to gather her robe to swing along her shoulders and.. *JUMPS* .. as she hears Adam's voice right behind her! "Sweet Hela's bosom!" She nearly barks out, reaching out to grab the man by the thick of his arm, even as those questions were asked, to pull him towards a stool with a snap and a point for him to sit. He was like a child, almost. An adult child. Sif had experience with children, yes, but this was entirely different.

Shall she keep him?

She nearly bought the cook from Wing Sing but was told it was not allowed. "It's overbearing, depending on who you ask." Sif admits once he's settled. "Now. Stay -here-. I shall return!" And into the hallways she goes, stopping and waiting to see if she'd have to place him at the table yet again.


Adam takes the seat, raising an eyebrow in surprise but not seeming to be upset by being shoved around and put into his place. Since she asked him to stay, he supposes he will this time, his empathy spreading over the place to get a sense of the other people around.

"Who is Hela and what is special about her bosom?" he says.


Sif hears those echoed words, her hand lifting to smack against her face as she takes a breath. She presses on to her quarters, the change into new garb was easy. A pair of slacks and a decorated bodice from Alfheim with the family crest. Frigga approved it! The bottoms of her feet were cleaned off, slippers piled on, the empty bed stared at for a moment. Just when in the hell.. ah well.

And out into the kitchen she goes!

"She is the Queen of Hel." Sif explains. "A place most cold and dank. For the undeserving. For the unkind. Death walks those lands and her bosom is as cold as her dark heart." She moves to the cabinents, withdrawing two cups. Her coffee was cold, and she had a need for the juice from oranges.


Adam considers, "I have been told of a place like that. It was called New Jersey," he says. "Is Hel named after her or is she named after it? It seems unlikely to be a coincidence," he says.

He watches her drawing out the cups with interest, "Why do you care how cold her bosom is? You're preparing to eat breakfast, I see. I do not need to sleep very much, so I am never sure when I should eat breakfast."


Sif barks out a quick laugh as she places the glasses down, moving to the fridge to open and retrieve the juice of oranges. She pours a generous amount for herself and Adam, sliding the glass towards him as she offers a slight shrug.

"Keep in mind, young one, that Hel has been born long before the era of man. And even myself." She settles down, shifting just a touch. "I do not care for how cold her bosom is, however. Tis a saying we have. And I am not preparing breakfast." She gestures towards the glass. "But I am preparing a drink."

With that said. "Why do you not sleep?"


Adam shakes his head to the last, "I do not see its purpose. Why should I surrender consciousness, leave my body without defense? I do not have enemies but, if I did, I would be in danger. Better to sleep at a minimum for energy requirements."

He takes a careful sip of the juice, "I have not had this without ethyl alcohol involved. A variety from a place called Russia. Vodka," he says. "It is made from potatoes. The man at the bar was very forthcoming about it."

"Should I protect the humans, then, since I am interested in them? And who should I protect them from?"


Sif realizes that she didn't answer the question as to why she would offer protection for the mortals. Or, did she? It was too early to tell. But she sips upon her juice as if it were the best thing ever, her eyes closing to savor the flavor, then offers up a slight nod. "Perhaps you should find walls to protect yourself while you rest. I do. And I rest a lot." She does a lot of other things too, that really do not need mentioning here.

As he explains that he had vodka and orange juice? Sif offers up a grin. "Sounds disgusting." It does!

Though, the question returns once more, and it has Sif thinking. Her fingers idly tip-tap along her jawline as she finally answers. "Yes." She says clearly. "All life is important. The children. The men. The women.." She pauses slightly, her face turning slightly grave. "..until it does not." She shifts a little to explain. "If a man raises a fist against another man in anger, then he shall be struck down by the blade. If a man or woman accost the child in a way that does not earn them a lesson to carry them into adulthood, they shall be struck down. If a man murders another man NOT in self defense, he shall be struck down." Her lips purse, then grins.

"War, on the other hand, is a different animal all together."


Adam nods at the mention of the vodka and orange juice, "It had a bitter taste but it had a pleasant effect. It made my skin tingle and my face grow warm. I found myself in good humor," he says.

To the last, he listens, recording the guidelines she gives. He doesn't take them as gospel - he has learned well enough that humans disagree on most everything and he imagines goddesses are much the same - but it is a new viewpoint for him to consider. "I have not heard of these commands. Someone told me of Ten Commandments that were supposed to be given from a great god to humans, but it seemed strangely interested in property law."

"I thought war was a conflict between nations. I was not aware it was also an animal. Some sort of goat or a large bear? Humans have so many complicated interactions, so many varieties, so many rules. I always think I'm learning more, but I get more confused rather than enlightened."


"You were drunk." Sif says evenly.

"There are many ways to interpret what I've just said. However, this is only my personal motto, nothing that requires extensive analyzing." Sif admits. "Everyone has their own rules and what they defend. And those rules may or may not align with the greater good, or.. above all.." She gestures around her, then takes another sip of her juice.

"It's an analogy." Sif was patient, but she was amused. "Though we do consider our horses as war-beasts." She grins then, lifting a slight shrug. "You need to read books."


Adam absorbs all of this with a placid expression, "I find the entire concept of good and evil to be very difficult to understand. The standards seem quite arbitrary and variable throughout all human c ultures that I have encountered. Much less allowing for alien worlds and gods. How can any rules apply? What is the greater good? Who decides?" he says.

"I have been reading books, mostly at the library. I do not have money so I am not permitted to keep them. I could take them anyway, but people get upset about that and, once I have read them, I have nowhere to place them. I have learned much from books, but, again, things are not entirely clear to me. This world is very messy."


Sif winces an eye as he begins to speak. He was -really- like a baby. Not one that you could easily swaddle and take to the bosom. "No one. That is the trick. Morality is suspect in that way, which is why the All-Father deems them interesting, I suppose." She shrugs, allowing those little sips to continue, still watching.

His mention of books has her shaking her head. "You. Him. he the all powerful. You need to acclimate yourself into this society quick, or there shall be much trouble in store for you." With that said. "Do you have a home. A play to lay your head for the small amount of time that you doth sleep?"


Adam cocks his head, 'Him, yes. That is what they called me, my creators. Him. Others found the name strange, so I chose Adam. It means 'man' in Hebrew and also it was the name of the first human in the Judeo-Christian mythologies."

"I do not have a home. I do not understand the need. I am capable of sleeping anywhere I please. I do not have possessions. I do not need a couch or a nightstand or a closet. I would not like to mow the lawn," he says. "Maybe someday, if I decide acquiring things would be of interest. Or people. I could get a wife. Or a husband."


"Well, Adam." Sif states, slowly rising from her place upon the counter top. "I suppose until then, we shall consider you, Him. Adam. Son of no man nor woman, a guest of the Bellator for now."

With that said, both hands lift to clap hard, resounding along the walls of the large manor.

"I need a feast!" If that doesn't rouse the handmaidens, nothing will!


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