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Far too late at night for sensible people to be walking Central Park, far too early for anyone to do a morning jog. Just the perfect time for Diana to take some time for training, where she's certain no one would spot her. One of the things she missed the most about home, is how readily she could train, on a whim, out in public, without a moment's idle concern she might be seen. At home the best that could happen is she'd be challenged by a fellow Amazon, the worst left to her own devices. In Man's World, there's just so much attention she needs not draw to herself. Still, a recent encounter with the witch Circe has left her feeling she was not doing enough training. Hence the poor tree being used for a target dummy, as she brandishes a sword and shield.
"Yeah, this is Car #219." The officer, sitting on the hood of his cruiser, is watching Diana attacking the tree. He's plenty far off, but the glint of steel and shield is unmistakeable as she dances and attacks it. He pauses.
<219, can you report?> comes a dispatcher's voice. He hesitates, then lifts the radio and clicks it on. "See, it looks an awful lot like a 10-39 against city property," he remarks. "But I ain't ever seen someone take a sword to a tree before, and I'm pretty sure that's that wild Amazon woman I seen on the news. So if it /is/ a 10-39, I gotta go have a conversation with someone who looks like she ain't in a mood to talk, and she's got a sword."
<…Copy that, 219. Let us know what it turns out to be.>
The cop looks up as something *whooshes* past overhead, and a figure resolves itself against the predawn sky— a burly shouldered man with blonde hair and a cape.
"Like a goddamn medieval faire," the cop says, shaking his head. Deciding discretion is the better part of valour, he walks off to find someone committing an actual crime, and leaves Thor and Diana to their devices.
The Asgardian in question lands a few long strides from Diana's position, legs flexing to absorb the impact. "Hail, Princess Diana!" Thor calls, cheerily. "'tis well to see you again! I thought I sensed a familiar spirit nearby. How does this day find you?" he inquires, casually tossing Mjolnir aside to let it *thump* against the wet grass.
Diana doesn't seem to realize she's been observed by an officer who is actually overzealous enough to do his job even at this hour. For what it's worth, her sword stops short of chopping bits off the tree, it's used more like a centering target dummy to maneuver around. Though she does stop glancing along a branch as Thor arrives and announces his presence in style. "Thor Odinson," she calls out, before sheathing her sword behind her back, "a pleasure to meet you again. How fare you?" She inclines her head with a slight level of concern, as she shares, "Circe the witch has been spotted in Man's World, with the help of my royal guards she was bested. But I do not liking having her about. She is a vile woman, who only seeks harming others for her pleasures."
Thor returns the nod to Diana, matching it precisely— he's somewhat coarse by royal standards, but it is a greeting of one equal to another. She is a Princess, he is a Prince, and both of them straddle the world between mortality and magic.
And Diana's always been perfectly courteous to him, and it never hurts to be friendly to warriors.
"The pleasure is mine, Princess," Thor says, his grave tone ameliorated by the broad smile on his earnest features. "I know not this Circe, but she sounds a villain most troublesome," he tells her. "A witch, you say? So not a sorceress— but rather a conjurer of spirits?" he inquires, speculatively.
"She fancies turning men into all manner of livestock," Diana introduces Circe to Thor in simplest of terms, "everytime she may try a different ploy, working with tricks and traps, her favorite means." She turns a wry smile at Thor, "is that quite unlike your brother? I understand Loki has command of tricks under his sphere of control? Although I must admit, he has been most gentlemanly thus far…even if sensation of malintent hangs in the air at his presence."
Thor frowns when Diana mentions Loki in Circe's company. He seems unaware of the expression, his boots shifting as he adjusts his weight. She's not /wrong/, but it clearly upsets him to hear his brother spoken of in that way. "Loki prefers ever illusion and subterfuge," Thor says, somewhat defensively. "He is a magician of no small talent, but it supplements his schemery. Of late, he seems to have abandoned his predilection for serious harm; his paramour seems to have checked that aspect. Granted," he concedes, "his idea of 'fun' still is quite unpleasant to many mortals, but …. he's doing better," Thor concludes, lamely.
"If you have a likeness of Circe, I would see to it that my warriors are prepared to receive her should such an unwelcome guest arrive at our Embassy. It seems if she is the sort to joust with the scions of Olympus, she might sample Asgardian hospitality."
"I meant no disrespect on your royal house," Diana is quick to note, inclining her head respectfully, "but your brother does give uncomforting vibes." Arching a brow, she seems fascinated at the concept that a paramour toned tone Loki's desire for mischief, "is that so? And who be this paramour? Regardless, it is good news." She extends a hand towards Thor, "I shall stop by your embassy to provide such a likeness."
Thor clasps wrists with Diana when she reaches a hand out. "A fellow who presents himself as 'Kai'— an elf, from the Realm of Alfheim," he tells Diana. "A worthy warrior and good friend, if there ever was one. He and my brother make each other happy, so I am pleased for Loki's sake."
"You are welcome, of course, at the Embassy at any time," Thor reminds Diana. "Visitors are always welcome, and guests twice so. A friend, then, is worth more to us than anyone merely sampling our hospitality, meager though it is," he says, with a royally polite self-deprecation.
"When one is happy, one is least least to cause mayhem, a worthy cause for a toast," Diana offers with a mirthful smile. "I've heard you've recently stopped by Mutant Town, a place most stricken with hardships, to share in some festivities, that was a lovely gesture on your part."
Thor shrugs uneasily. He looks more embarassed at being praised than the idea of being out in public among the mutants distributing gifts. " 'tis a custom among Agardians, to celebrate the season by making sacrifice. As a Prince, 'tis my solemn duty to bear the burden of that sacrifice. The Horn of Giving is a powerful magic, and best used not to feed an army, but to provide for the meek who endure the deprivations and hardships of fate's whimsies."
He gives Diana a chagrined look. "My intent was not to gain celebrity, and it seems I have roundly failed in that regard. I shall aspire to a more discreet means when next I visit that sacred duty."
"In Man's World, there is prejudice against those called Mutants, segregated mostly within Mutant Town part of the city," Diana recites as if she has the fact taken deep to heart, "such a wrong is often not easy to flaunt before the rulers of this very place. Your deeds were most generous and worthwhile. No reason to downplay the choice. Even if it is the very custom celebrated."
She shakes her head at Thor's humility, thrusting her hand in a dismissive gesture, "celebrity is not the issue, you've put a spotlight on a part of town often cast in shadows. That is commendable."
"What fools these mortals be," Thor says, shaking his head. "If they only knew the peril that surrounds them. They cling to ideologies and prejudices, sorting each other by such childish means. I wonder if they know how close Midgard has come to being consumed, by invaders mystical and alien alike. A mortal life is such a tenuous, fragile thing," he says, speaking more to himself with a dumbfounded tone. "And they play recklessly with those fickle threads, daring the Norns to strike one down before the other— and all are gone in a blink of an eye. Fifty generations of mortals come and gone in the time since last Asgardians walked these lands, their petty squabbles lost to the shifting sands of time."
"Indeed, they are like children," Diana concurs with Thor's manner of putting it, even if some may take it as demeaning, for the divine it is the most natural way to look upon it. They are a divine creation, these humans, after all. "The foolishness of casting those most fit to be among their protectors is staggering. It is plainly put dumb, as any prejudice followed blindly."
She reaches to brush a hand over her shield, grinning at Thor, "must be their modern weapons that has lost them their hearts."
Thor laughs easily, catching the glint of a warrior's eagerness in Diana's eye. "Do I misread you, Princess?" Thor inquires, good humor in his tone. "I know the Olympians claim to be of stern stuff, but you are a creature of Midgard at your heart," he says, with a bantering tone. He extends a hand towards Mjolnir, not bothering to look, and the hammer leaps at him and the handle smacks firmly into his palm.
"If you seek an opponent more interesting than a tree, I could avail myself. Though I know not what temper your weapons carry— the hammer Mjolnir is, I think, the rarer weapon. It lives surely as I do, and has been called Giant-Killer and Masher. Forged of Uru-steel in the heart of a dying star by Eirtri, the greatest of all dwarven weapon-smiths. None can move it without my bidding."
He tosses the hammer aside and it hits the ground with a peculiar, resonant *thunk*, as if locking reality itself into place around it. "Bare hands would seem the fairer contest, aye?"
"We are of stuff most stern," Diana is quick to discard any notion suggesting otherwise, "but truth and love are chief amongst my circle, much as valor and steadfast resolve are…"
She does eventually soften from her quick reaction, laughing, and reaching to tap Thor on his broad shoulder, "you've caught me off guard. Well played, it doesn't happen often. I would say there is a modicum of truth in your statement, I enjoy visting Man's World, and try to guide them in a better more radiant path."
When offered a sparring of challenging caliber, Diana looks about, and then returns her gaze to Thor, "I would appreciate the challenge, in good spirits, but this will not be the place…we could cause undue harm to the environment. Perhaps in a more proper setting another day?"
"Aye, that would seem the prudent choice," Thor says, trying not to sound disappointed. Diana's competence with a sword speaks volumes to the Asgardian, clearly, and he seems to enjoy the idea of competing against her. "The Midgardians are most forigiving of damage caused in dire need, but they might resent us plouging up the ground and destroying their park. Let us pick a spot— perhaps on the coast, where sand and rocks will be the only victims of our violence?" he inquires, his good humor returning.
"Indeed, they'll be most displeased, as well we should know well enough this is a place for recreation, not sparring of the gods," Diana laughs in good cheer, nodding firmly at the suggested venue, "perfect! Nothing like the sand of the beach and the waves rushing on to shore to provide a fine setting. I shall be looking forward to it!" She then notes, "but I must see to my guards now…we shall do it on a different occasions."