Journey Into Mystery

[bornagoddess]

Right. It was time to spend more than roughly two minutes in Asgard for fear of losing the door back to the Nexus. Sif needed supplies, and she needed to come to terms with the fickle nature of the door back without endangering her home by shirking her duties. She would have to go back for a longer time eventually, she knew this. It was all a matter of acceptance.

Having reached a sort of catharsis where Loki was concerned, and having had quite a bit of fun - with him and others; different types of fun, from the most innocuous to the most...interesting - this was as good a time as any to return. Rather than messaging each of her newfound friends Sif had simply left a brief note on the door along the lines of

'It is time for me to spend time at home without fearing I might lose my way back. If I do, please know that I have cherished every moment spent here with you, whoever you are, and I hope to see you again. Lady Sif'

and called it a day. Whoever it was directed at would know it was directed at them, and others might simply shrug and move along. She donned her freshly polished armor as well as her sword and shield and as expected found the door back to Asgard not far from her own room, edged between a door marked 'supplies' and one with a number on it. Inhaling sharply, Sif turned the knob and went inside. Conveniently, the door had changed locations. Whereas before it had been located in the barracks (it was the door to the barracks, for her) now it lead straight into the balcony of her quarters at the palace. Sif looked over her shoulder, and found the door placed neatly on the side wall leading to said balcony, as though it had always been there, as though it belonged.

It was a foolish thing to do, but as the fear of losing her way back still gnawed at her despite coming to terms with the possibility, and as it was now in her private quarters which none had access to, Sif now planned to keep it slightly ajar. Taking long strides into her quarters she found an empty metal wine cup that she put between the door and its threshold, and found that it held quite easily. Satisfied, Sif nodded, turning her back on the door to go about her business.

[Follow Sif into Asgard! It is golden and beautiful this time of year. And all times of year, really.]

Comments

[trulyoracular]

Olaf cannot help his chuckle at her comment noting the opposite, and the smile only widens when she makes it potently clear exactly what she means. He watches, with great curiosity and followed by delight when she headbutts the recruit, speaks to them in a tongue that brooks no argument, and he ends up standing a little straighter when she comes back to speak to him. "We just call ours Anders," is his reply, though he leans to the side to look around Sif, eyeing the manner with which they treat her, far more subdued and respectful now of her.

"See, what I do more isn't the physical fighting or any of this," he says. "I'm an oracle, which means I do all the sensing and get the information. I mean, I can brawl," he does admit, "but I'd be out of it fairly quickly. I'm not very good at it."

[bornagoddess]

At least he didn't seem to have his pride wounded by her honesty. Sif wondered whether that was a good or bad thing before deciding it did not matter. "Oh? You've spoken of him before, I believe. Just as fleetingly too." She said as a way of inviting him to elaborate - or not, as he pleased. Arms crossed in front of her chest the shield-maiden listened to her new friend as the training got back underway around them.

"Hmm." Sif blinked in consideration, a small shrug of one shoulder noting she had reached a conclusion. "I suppose that is a commendable effort as well." It had taken her a while to reach the point where she could admit this to be true, realizing eventually that just as some doubted her fitness for her chosen line of work, it was just as wrong to regard with contempt those who didn't. She just wasn't used to a burly, capable-looking, young man - one of Asgardian descent, no less - who did not fight. Of course there was Loki, but he fought, in his way. Sometimes she wondered if he didn't fight harder than the rest of them against certain enemies. Most of his own making. But that was neither here nor there at the moment. "If you were eager to learn, may I remind you you count a warrior among your friends now." She gave him a smile. "But if you weren't, I swear I shall not think less of you for it."

[trulyoracular]

"He's one of my grandsons," Olaf explains. "And I don't mean to play favourites, but if I were to rank them in order, Anders would probably be last. He takes to the god thing about as well as I do, but also has a tendency to be very selfish about it. I don't mind him abusing Bragi's voice the way he does, but he should probably be there for his brothers more."

This is all very hypocritical from him, given Olaf's tendency to vanish into the surf for months at a time (and once, a few years). "I don't mind a good brawl," he admits. "I think they leave me behind because even though I don't look it, I'm an older man to them. Still, if the opportunity presents itself, my right hook isn't half bad."

[bornagoddess]

With one raised eyebrow Sif shuffled to stand facing Olaf more squarely. "Bragi? The poet?" With a tongue more silvered than that of Loki himself, most of the time. "Ah. He must be very persuasive." And if he abused that talent, Sif disliked him already. More so if he was selfish while doing it. With a click of her tongue Sif shrugged, not wanting to outright tell Olaf that she thought his grandson might just be a bit of a prick. She knew well as anyone that one speaking ill of one's own family was very different from anyone else doing so. There were lines.

With a chuckle, Sif looked Olaf over as if she needed to after becoming well acquainted with him days before. "They sound but children if you're an old man! You haven't the stamina of one either." Well, it was the truth. At the expression 'right hook' Sif narrowed her eyes. "Right...hook..."

Looking down at her hands Sif made them into fists, and then mimicked the movement of a well placed punch. When it dawned on her, she grinned. "Ohhhh. Interesting expression, very good."

[trulyoracular]

"The very one," Olaf agrees, wishing that they had any of the other gods in the pantheon in their family, but they got Bragi. Sure, when Anders was younger, it had been acceptable, but he'd never grown out of it and acted as a bad influence on the rest -- Ty and Mike, namely, because Axl, bless him, had the good sense not to follow along his footsteps. "And they are children," Olaf agrees.

He grins when she realises his meaning. "What do you call it, then?"