Living Situation

February 15, 2017:

Thor visits Peggy in the Triskelion. They discuss the raid and Thor's current living situation. Peggy makes him an offer.

The Triskelion


NPCs: None.

Mentions: James Barnes, Steve Rogers, Jane Foster


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

It's nearing lunch. Stomachs are rumbling throughout the majestic Triskelion, and quite a few individuals are on their way to one of the many cafeteria halls to fill up on much needed food energy, and also much needed office gossip. That one food truck that everybody likes is about to show up, so the line is forming early outside, as it always does.

People stream by the door leading to one office in particular, a sure sign that the hour of eating is nigh.

The phone rings, or what they call a phone now. No doubt it's a technological wonder, a floating projection with video. It's from the check-in area of this particular floor, this particular set of offices. One of the helpful office admins that are also highly trained assassins, or at least, they make a killer cup of coffee.

A ringing phone has to be answered, according to a bad movie about a phone booth. The projection is Clarissa from up front. She's all smiles, and isn't looking at the camera. "Ms. Carter, your lunch appointment is on his way over, and might I just add, that is one magnificent piece of meat you've ordered."

That's definitely followed by the crisp sound of a high-five and some laughter.

Knuckles wrap against the door, and it's the Odinson standing there, filling the doorway, clad in dark leather pants and what looks like a black vester - a vest that's also a duster - over a long-sleeve tan cotton blend sweater. Not really the right garb for the weather. And what right does he have to fill it out so well?!

And does he actually have an appointment, or did he just sweet-talk his way in?


Peggy Carter is used to taking lunch at her desk, especially when she has her teeth in a case. While the rescue of Bucky Barnes has mostly been completed, there is still Himmel on the loose and research to be done.

Absently, the Agent picks up the phone and automatically corrects her: "Agent." She worked hard for that Agent and while it is not quite the deal it is today as it was back in 1948, she still holds tight to that earned title. It's one she will fight for no matter the time period. However, the distraction of Clarissa is met with a wrinkle of her brow. "Lunch appointment? I don't have—-" She hears high-fives and laughter and then the phone hangs up, picture blinking out.

Curious - and perhaps a bit annoyed - Peggy switches off the phone just as there is a knock on her door and she sees Thor standing there. Lowered brows quickly rise and she stands. Goodness. She has seen Thor before, when they were rescuing Bucky, but it's something rather different in a professional office setting. Smoothing down her button down shirt - tucked into a pencil skirt - she blinks. "Mr—-" she pauses. "Actually, I'm not quite sure how to address you in this setting," she smiles.

The annoyance is immediately gone. This is a man who helped James Barnes, she is willing to see him even if he did not make a proper appointment. Plus, the vest goes a long way into smoothing things over. While a professional woman, she is a woman. "To what do I owe a lunch meeting?"


Wearing a large smile full of far too many white and perfect teeth, the God of Thunder looks impressive for other reasons outside of his battle garb. He ducks his head as he steps in, cocking one thumb at the door in a silent question as to whether it should be open or closed. He closes it either way.

"To my friends, I am Thor," he replies, that accent making its appearance with the rest of him. Long strides will draw him close, and he'll extend a hand. "I believe this is how you mortals do it?"

The way his lips twitch suggest he's making a joke. His file suggests he's been on the planet for about six months now, after all. He must know handshakes, surely!

"If we must be more official, and therefore not friends, then you may address me as Thor Odinson, Prince of Asgard, Heir to the Realm Immortal, Champion of the Nine Realms, and all about solid bloke, as my friend Darryl says."

Yes, definitely joking now. He spreads his arms, nodding a few times, expression most assuredly a 'yep, that's me bro' picture of smugness. The mirth fades a touch.

"My good humor aside, it is a pleasure to meet you under less ground." That whole underground Bucky thing. "I had hoped to discuss a certain matter of lodging and accommodation with someone, and I did not wish to go through my usual route."


"I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice, Clarissa, and I do humbly apologize for us once again breaking all of the walls within the apartment. But I am not certain why I must be subjected to these feats of strength once again?"

Thor is shirtless, lifting a small Buick.


"Perhaps we could do so over lunch?"


A master of reading people and of general judgement of character, Peggy Carter finds it hard to read Thor. He has an earnest expression and it can be generally hard to tell whether he is joking or genuinely does not know something. That is the trouble with people from other realms and times: the culture shock is an easy thing to hide behind should one wish to lie.

Leaning forward over the desk, she shakes Thor's hand in an firm grip. "Yes, quite right." The smile turns into something more of a smirk as she realizes that, yes, he certainly is joking with her. "That is quite a long title to say each time I wish to address you. For brevity's sake shall we stick with Thor for the casual and Prince Odinson for the formal? I wouldn't wish to offend you. Nor your friend Darryl."

Taking her hand back, she gestures at a chair for him to sit in. "Yes, I agree. I know it was not exactly my operation, but I personally am very grateful for your help in recovering Dr. Foster and James Barnes." It looks as if she is about to take a seat when he mentions his actual reason for stopping by. "Lodging? What is your usual route?" It seems as if she is not aware of Thor's living arrangements or who has arranged them.

"I was actually just about to order. If it's not too sensitive of a discussion, why don't we move to the mess? We can get some food and we can talk about how I might help you."


"Yes, that should work just fine, Peggy Carter of SHIELD," Odinson responds, his hand very firm, and also rough, just another detail to enhance his overall perfection. Clearly, the Asgardian is a born warrior, but that's well documented in his file.

"You may find that it is quite difficult to offend me. At least, it is now, after my recent journeys here in your realm," he adds, sinking his rather substantial form down into the offered chair. The talk shifts away from the ugly man Darryl - he's all about inner beauty, you see - over to the rescue. When Jane is mentioned, those godly lips twitch upwards.

"All anyone needed to say was that Jane was in trouble, which is precisely what Steven Rogers did. She and I are old friends. And he wrote me a letter! How utterly charming, although I would have preferred a scroll." His hands are making some kind of unfurling gesture.

With his offer apparently taken, he lifts himself back out of the chair, only to pause and look a touch confused. "The mess?"


"You may simply call me Peggy," Peggy tells Thor with a smile. It's not a chastisement or anything of the like. It is her attempt to also give him a shortened version of her name. "Or Agent Carter, should you prefer a title."

Bending over, she gathers her suit jacket, always determined to look put together when she leaves her office. Slipping it on, she smiles. "Yes, I have heard." Or, also, perhaps read about it in his file. There are notations there about him and Jane having a connection. "Steve sent you a letter?" That actually surprises her. Then again, it makes sense. "Though, I assume you don't have a smartphone or an email address. Perhaps SHIELD should look into training some homing pigeons. Or, ravens? I'm not sure which would be more acceptable." Pigeons are plentiful in New York, but they're also dirty and hard to train.

Moving toward the door, she gestures for him to follow her through the doorway and into the hall. "Oh, uh, yes. The Mess Hall. Though, here I guess they call it a cafeteria. It's where we get food without having to leave the building. I can't guarantee it will be good, but it is convenient."

Leading Thor through the hallways, the pair get quite a few looks from both men and women employees. It's not every day they see a man like Thor walking through the hallways and it seems like they enjoy what they see. Peggy ignores it for the most part. "I must say, I know little about Asgardians. Do they all possess your strength? Or is it the hammer?"


Ah yes, definitely a smile from the God as he's given the short name. They're bonding already! "I do have one of these phone devices, however it is perhaps the most shoddily crafted device I have ever seen. The Dwarves of Nidavellir would be flogged for days if one of their goods cracked the moment it was dropped to the ground.

"But yes, the good man wrote me a letter by way of apology for Jane being involved in the first place. And, I suppose, he feared the elderly man and the woman with the ample bosom nearby were eavesdropping on our topic of conversation."

Very nearly, Thor gestures for the last part about the woman's anatomy. He brushes his hands against his pants instead, and follows as directed. Which means they'll have to go past the front, with Clarissa who knows many things. There's a definite fluttering going on, and did one of them just utter a 'get you some girl!' as they strode past?

"I am familiar enough with feast halls, and halls of celebration. I shall add this to my growing list of Midgardian words," the Godling replies. A smile, and a heavy dose of respect, fill the next set of words that pass his lips. "And it will be a pleasure to feast with a fellow warrior in arms."

As they walk the halls, Thor keeps looking this way and that, just taking in the surrounds. Mirth enters his voice, a jest to follow. "Ah, this must be part where you seek to pump me for information. I have been asking the Google fellow - you are akin to a spymaster, are you not?"

Yet he's all smiles, and he's being close to playful. "In truth, I have not tested the extent of my strength here, but I have had little trouble lifting the motorized chariot of Clarissa. I could have done that as a child. My mother could do the same. I have stopped speeding asteroids with my brawn alone. Mjolnir - my hammer - assists, but I am known across the Nine Realms for my strength, and courage.

"I suppose I did not need to mention the latter part. Force of habit."

Warrior cultures, boasting, you know how it goes!


"I'm sure Tony could get you a case for it. I've found that helps with the screen cracking." The whole smartphone culture is one that took Peggy a little while to get into, but now she can understand its appeal. While she does not keep anything personal on it, she does like having a device that is able to call anyone at any time. Communication is, obviously, important to Carter.

"The woman with—" Peggy glances over at Thor with a questioning and perhaps even disapproving look. Luckily, he does not gesture to try and show what exactly it is he meant. That might have earned him something more than a look. "Well, letters can be very discreet. I think people prefer the phones merely because of expediency. I can understand that to some extent, at least."

Clarissa's utterings is given a raised eyebrow and hopefully something to silence her. Then, she's back on topic. "I'm not quite sure it would be listed under a hall of celebration. It's more like a dining hall." That translates, right?

The mention of the Google spymaster is actually met with a grin. It's rare that Peggy feels as if she knows more about culture than anyone else. It's relieving and also endearing. "I…yes, I believe that term apt. You might call me a spy if not a spymaster."

His description of his powers is nodded at. "Wait, why were you lifting Clarissa's car? And you can stop an asteroid?" That's handy to know. She smirks. "No, I have certainly heard of the bravery of Thor of Asgard. It need not be spoken about, it is known."


"Such matters of spycraft are not within my area of expertise. I prefer an axe, or a hammer. In truth, I have trouble stomaching some of what is required. The duplicity, the lying." Thor's face wrinkles in disdain. He lifts a hand. "I do not say that to offend. I know well the need for the gathering of information. My brother was quite talented at it."

He really should stop mentioning Loki. It upsets him every time. He cracks his neck.

"Yes, stopping a celestial body is a simple task of grinding my teeth and pushing really, really hard. And the lifting of the chariot, it is one of the requirements for when I must have my current homestead tended to," the God of Thunder explains, burly arms lifting in a shrug. "I do not know the why of it, but it seems to amuse her. All the same, I do not wish to go through that ordeal if possible. I am left feeling somewhat like a piece of meat."

By now they should be at the mess hall, right?! And into the line. "I have seen this place on my prior visits here, but have not sit to sup. I will be happy to break bread with you this day, Agent Peggy," he notes, just beside her in the line. Every option that's leafy or green he shakes his head at. It seems he's just after meat, potatoes, and coffee.

"I wish to move. I am a warrior, and I have a great need for honing my craft, as do you. Someplace larger, grander, taller if at all possible. I understand it is likely not. My good friend Darcy has attempted to explain this 'cost of living' and I truly question how every person on this island is so rich yet cannot afford a clean shave."

He pauses, hand lifting to rub at his scruff. "Perhaps I should not talk."

"All the same, that is my desire this day," he finishes, dropping a solid gold coin - with a goat stamped on one side, and his face on the other she may discover - when they reach the end of the cafeteria line and someone has to pay.


"At times I often prefer a weapon as well," Peggy tells Thor with a laugh. She may give him a bit of a look at first, but then she does not look incredibly offended at his preference for forthright attack over what might be considered trickery.

"That's certainly a skill I do not have," she tells him. "If I tried to grind my teeth and push very hard against a celestial body, I would be either burned to a crisp or smashed into a million pieces. So, I shall remain impressed."

By now they are in line and able to take various forms of food that is provided for SHIELD agents. She picks up a tray and grabs a few things. When they reach the cashier, she blinks as Thor drops a gold coin onto the counter. Picking it up, she hands it back. "This is my treat." Holding out her SHIELD pass, she put it on whatever account she holds with the agency and then goes to find a place for the two of them to sit.

"I must say, I have never dined with someone who might be considered a celestial being before, so I think it's a pretty good day for me, too." As for his request, she waits till she is seated until they get into the discussion topic.

"That's…well, that's kind of a tough order for Manhattan. Larger, grander and taller usually costs way more money than I am sure SHIELD even has. Do you know if there a reason you are under SHIELD housing? If not, I'm sure we could find you an apartment. I lucked out, Howard left me a rent controlled flat in his will." With a laugh, she raises an eyebrow. "I see you are a man of royalty, but also have a beard, Prince Odinson."

After a moment, she pokes at her salad with a fork. "What exactly is it that you are looking for in a place to live? Other than bigger? What is wrong with where you are living currently?"


Taking his coin back, Thor grunts once, but smiles and pockets it. "Then I believe I owe you one," he says, apparently getting that part of the vernacular down.

With his beard pointed out so plainly, the Prince grunts again, hand moving away from the healthy growth he sports. "I will have you know it is considered quite distinguished to grow a stately beard upon Asgard. A sign of wisdom, and virility." He did NOT need to lift his forearm in a gesture there, but he definitely did. It doesn't last long, and he's back to tray carrying, letting her lead to a suitable set of seats. "I am not so certain of the reasons here."

Settling himself, he isn't long in picking up a chicken wing and beginning the process of removing meat from bone. "Such tiny birds you have here. Nearly more bone than meat. Tastier than a bilgesnipe at least." Definitely talking with his mouth full.

Manners don't seem too high on Thor's playlist. There's that whole gruffness to him. Still, their earlier topic. "I could likely bring enough coin from back home to purchase something suitably grand, but I am told it would 'destabilize the economy' and 'send the markets into freefall.'" His eyes roll. "I take it these are bad things however, thus I have found myself in a small two-bedroom apartment that is starting to feel decidedly cramped."

His blue eyes flash. He's watching Peggy as he says the next part.

"And the walls make this odd buzzing sound."

It's likely in the file. SHIELD have organized the apartment, and there's veeery likely some videos floating about that should never see the light of day from the surveillance of the Asgardians within.

He waves a pair of bones about airily. "Whoever this Howard fellow is, I am sure he has done you a great kindness. Similarly, SHIELD has done one for me, in exchange for my services when the need arises. I do not mean to sound ungrateful. I simply wish to be able to train without the man downstairs from hitting the ceiling with his broom.

"Perhaps I should move my training outside the city."


"I'll be sure to call in my meal chip at some point." Peggy smiles, clearly not minding buying Thor's lunch and not expecting anything in return.

"I'll be sure to remember that. I tend to prefer my men clean shaven. Though, a beard every now and again is a welcome change." Peggy is clearly teasing Thor now as she watches him flex to show his virility. Setting her tray down, she takes a few bites and raises her eyebrows. "I have no idea what a bilgesnipe is, but if it tastes like chicken and you could mass provide it, I'm sure you could make a fortune.

Thor's explanation gets a surprised look. "Well. I will tend to side with Darcy on this. Crashing our economy is not really a good idea. That's more trouble than it is worth."

The walls make a buzzing sound. Ah. Well. That's something that Peggy does get. She does know that SHIELD would most likely monitor a being like Thor if they had the chance. She even read about it. But, now she knows that he can hear the devices. She moves beyond that subject, unsure about what she could say. She won't deny that the walls certainly do make a buzzing sound for various reasons. It's probably better to just move along.

"He did," Peggy agrees to Howard doing her a service. There's a glance at her tray, a look at Thor. She has a crazy idea. Something that may lead to no buzzing walls, but keep SHIELD surveillance should it be required and also give Thor some form of freedom.

Before she can rethink, she offers, "You know. I just may be able to help you. I live on a penthouse floor. With roof access. It's too large for one person. If you don't mind a roommate, you could perhaps one of my spare rooms."


Peggy's just too good! She makes the right move, not giving Thor anything to really go on when he practically calls SHIELD out for spying on him. He seems content to resume eating and speak of his needs instead, when she makes that offer.

It catches him by surprise, and he's left with half a chicken wing dangling from his mouth. He shoves it in, munching away as he sizes the young lady across from him up. "If you are serious, that is a generous offer," he says, voice quiet, clearly mulling the idea over. Is there more to the offer than meets the eyes? Best he not think too much on that. He shrugs, a grin taking his face.

"I could perhaps visit and see this place of yours, to see if it will work. You may also wish to reconsider, which is entirely fair. I am not precisely the most quiet of roommates."

He spreads his arms. Just look at him. Just look at him! Of course he isn't.

"Just when I think I have an idea on how you mortals will act, you surprise me. This realm is a grand place indeed. You live short lives, but you certainly live them in interesting ways."

With his matter for being here potentially settled, the God of Thunder takes a hearty gulp of coffee. "So, about you and Steven Rogers…"


What else is Peggy to do? She may know that SHIELD observes Thor, but she also will not call out her employer and may also not agree with his surveillance now. Instead, she offers a different solution. It may not be perfect or at all thought out, but she will offer it all the same. This is a man who went to the James Barnes mission without thought because his friend is trouble. He receives letters from Steve. As far as she is concerned, he is a man who can be trusted and who deserves assistance in any way she can give it.

"Of course. My flat is certainly no tower. It may not live up to Asgardian standards. However, if you wish to rid yourself of the noise and have a roof to practice your warrior craft on, I will offer mine." It's more than simply debt, in what she has seen of Thor, he's an interesting character. If SHIELD must have eyes on him, she doesn't mind being the more old fashioned version of that. Also, she knows she can give him more privacy than SHIELD nanny-cams.

"I have been told we are very unpredictable, yes." Peggy smirks. And then the eyebrows raise. "What about Steve?" She's suddenly very cautious, more closed off about the subject. Steve Rogers is a little out of her comfort zone. Shoving the last bit of salad into her face, she stands. "That's, perhaps, a conversation for another day."


"Ah, that was a bit out of the blue, was it not?" Thor laments as his company stands, her meal over with. He puts his smile back on. "Verily, I was simply curious. The Google came back with some interesting results, but perhaps you are right. Another time." The hand without a chicken wing spreads in partial apology.

Dropping the wing, the God of Thunder stands, cleaning his hands off with a napkin. Then his pants for good measure, just so they're clean enough for him to extend a hand. "I have none of these fancy 'business cards', but as Darcy arranged for the phone I believe you should have the number. I will drop by in a day or two to visit."

The smile turns very genuine. "Thank you for the meal, Agent Peggy, and for your kindness."

Not that he's leaving, of course. He still has meat and coffee to finish. But he's spent enough time in Court to know when a petition has ended! He'll just politely wait for her to leave before sitting back down, picking at her plate once he's done with his, and then leaning to the SHIELD agent seated at the next table. "Are you going to finish that…?"

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