1964-09-19 - Not Excalibur, but not a normal sword either
Summary: Tigra asks to stash the sword at the Mansion
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
steve-rogers tigra 


Early evening on a Tuesday, and Tigra's called ahead to the Mansion to ask Captain Rogers to meet with her, needing to ask him something. She'll arrive at the mansion carrying a large duffle bag, the sword that could easily carry a large rifle, a set of golf clubs, or any number of other, similar items. Despite it being merely a duffle bag, she carries it with both care and respect and she enters the Mansion.

Steve gets up from the couch in one of the living rooms as soon as he sees Tigra's fur. He heads over, giving her a wave and a smile. He doubletakes at the size of the duffle bag before raising a single eyebrow, "Heya Tigra. What's up? And what's with the duffel bag?"

Stepping in from outside, it takes a moment to adjust to interior scents, and so she didn't catch Steve's scent until he identified himself. "Hey Steve," she greets with a broad smile. It's almost impossible -not- to smile at him. "This is what I needed to ask you about. Well, not the bag itself." She sets it down and unzips it, pulling out something that's been wrapped in a sheet. She unwraps it, revealing a sword, and not just any sword. This one is clearly well made, with the look of almost a broad bladed rapier, a silver crosspiece and swept hilt, the latter studded with gems. Regardless of the showiness of it, the blade is clearly sharp and strong. "It's about this."

"Oh, well good," Steve says with a smile as he kneels down to inspect the bag. "Looks like a duffel to me. Little large, of course." As Tigra pulls out the blade, he pulls back up to his feet. Hands go to the hips as he eyes it before looking to Tigra, "Nice sword."

"It's more than it seems," Tigra says wryly. "A while back, during the craziness in the Park, a few of us were there and wound up elsewhere at the same time. Seemed like something out of a story book, and wouldn't you know it, there was a sword in a stone. This sword," she says, lifting it slightly. "Curiosity's always been a weakness of mine, and, well, obviously I tried to pull it, and here it is. I don't know if you know who Stephan Strange is, but he's a sorcerer of incredible power. Scarlett knows him also. Anyway, he sensed when I came back with it, eventually tracked me down to warn me about it. The -bright- side, it's not Excalibur, and I didn't mess up King Arthur."

"Well that's good. On account that King Arthur is a myth and you're a real person. If it were Excalibur you'd have a massive tract of land to govern. Who has time, really?" Steve's eyebrows pinch up as he looks at it. "So what is it?"

The tigess knows a little about massive tracts of land. "I used to think Thor was a myth," Tigra notes. "This is called the Twilight Sword, and is an ancient Norse artifact. Aside from being supernaturally sharp, it's got power of its own, apparently enough to, well, attract seriously unpleasant attention. Since it came out of the stone at my touch, I feel like I'm supposed to be its guardian. I've been keeping it hidden in my apartment, but that's…" She looks sheepish. "Okay, hiding something like this in a set of box springs is neither secure, nor dignified. I'd like to have it here at the Mansion, but something like this, I have to ask you first, obviously."

Steve's arms are folded over his chest as he thinks it over. On one hand, it would bring danger here to the Mansion. On the other hand, it would keep that danger from going towards someone else. "I think we could do that. Maybe we could store it down in the basement? Do you think someone might want to come after you for it?"

The dangers associated with the Sword are what led Tigra to ask. "Someone might," she answers. "That's what Strange said. I haven't a clue what it could do in the wrong hands, but the way he acted makes me think we never want to know. The best strategy is to keep it secret, keep it safe I think. If it's here, well, whoever tries to get it will certainly be in for trouble."

"Hey, I read that book. Just the first one and then that one," Steve replies. "Either way it's more safe here than anywhere else and if someone comes for it we'd rather have them come here than have some neighbor of yours have a really bad day."

A quick flash of teeth in a grin when her reference is recognized. "That's the other part of my thinking. That's part of what we're here for, after all, to protect normal people." Tigra takes a deep breath, releasing it in a sigh of relief. "I'll definitely feel better having it here."

"And who knows? It could be a hit during dinner parties or if Tony keeps refusing to wash his silverware." Steve keeps looking at it, marveling just a bit. "Bet it could cut through a muskmelon in one chop."

"It can cut through -dimensions- is what Strange said," Tigra says. "Short of your shield, there may not be anything that it can't cut through, and I wouldn't want to test even that."

"Dimensions," Steve says with a shake of his head. A year and a half ago he was fighting Nazis. Even that seemed weird. Now he's talking about swords that cut through the fabric of space and time. Everytime he thinks he finds he's shocked. "Yeah, let's skip the testing montage, how about?"

"Sounds prudent," Tigra agrees, most sincerely. She carefully wraps the sword again, holding it one arm while using her tail to pick up the duffle and transfer it to her other hand. "I'm going to downstairs and see where it might can stay. I really appreciate this, Steve. I owe you."

"Yeah everyone does," he replies with a snicker, joking of course. "How in the world do you think I get all of Tony's silverware washed?"

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License