Roommate Discourse

March 28, 2017:

Peggy and Thor discuss some recent events.

Peggy and Thor's Apartment

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

For the past few days, Peggy has been in and out of the penthouse apartment that she and Thor share. While generally a good roommate, she has been lax in explaining her absence and also had not done the dishes. She's generally very good at that: she tends to pile up tea mugs.

As such, after another absence of a day or two, the key in the locks turn. It's slow and a tired looking Peggy slips into the apartment, shutting the door and locking it deftly behind her. While she has no bag, her clothes look a little dirty and rumpled. Perhaps she slept in them. It's hard to tell.

Once the door is shut, however, she straightens, smooths down her dress and glances about for signs of her roommate. "Thor?" she calls out, attempting to figure out if he's immediately present. It's hard to tell what a God of Asgard might do when left to his own devices in her apartment. She knows there are goats on the roof, which she doesn't exactly mind. They can be cute under the right circumstances.

Now, though, she hopes for the Asgardian's company and perhaps some of his wisdom. Or, even better, some of his mead. It's all a toss up. "Are you home?"


Time is an odd thing to the Asgardian Prince. Sometimes, the God of Thunder seems to simply not realize that a great deal of time has passed. Other times, he's right on the ball. Typically however, he's not terrible about it. Like how he eventually frowns, in the midst of travestying the shared living quarters, in turn his head towards the kitchen.

The kitchen, with a sink full of dirty dishes.

"'tis unusual," he notes to himself, because there's no one else for him to talk to and the words break the odd silence that the rooms have filled with, save for the ever-persistent sounds of the city outside.

Such is the state of affairs that Peggy Carter, Agent of SHIELD, finds herself returning home to. The soft clink of tableware being worked under hot water. "To the pit with these teabag stains," his voice carries as her questions ring out.

The tall blonde pauses, standing there at the kitchen, looking up to see the reflection of her in the glass cabinet door in front of him. In all of his Godly glory, the alien roommate is presently clothed, but wearing an apron, his hands covered in pink latex gloves.

"Ah, Peggy, you have returned!" he booms with that Asgardian accent, turning to look over his shoulder with something akin to an eager glee. A broad smile takes his features. "I shall turn the kettle on."

The sink is full of suds, far too full in fact, and his attempt to clean has led to a certain amount of watery mess in its own right. The dishwasher has not been utilized; he's been doing it all by hand, setting the dishes down on paper towel to dry.

"Verily, you may not want to come in here, the floor is… a little wet."

—-

It is unusual, and as Peggy comes into the kitchen to see Thor in an apron with latex gloves, she feels all the guiltier. "Oh, Thor, I'm sorry. I don't tend to leave dirty dishes, it's just been a bit of a week. A few weeks, really."

Moving into the kitchen, she is careful of the wet on the floor. She stares at the added mess with a bit of a raised eyebrow, but she does not comment on it. He's cleaning up after her, after all, what right does she have to talk about water on the floor? Instead, she assures him, "I'll be fine. If I survived all I just went through to fall and break my neck on a wet kitchen floor, I best have deserved it."

As he immediately moves to put the kettle on, she leans onto the counter, grateful. "That's remarkable, thank you." The thought of a hot cup of tea just seems remarkably good at this point in time.

Seeing that Thor has been doing all the dishes by hand, she pushes herself up from the counter and moves to a cabinet to pull out a dish towel. Then, she picks up the drying cups and dishes and starts to hand dry them - wordlessly pitching in. That is what roommates do, is it not?

"Thank you. For doing my dishes." After a pause, she frowns. This may seem apropos of nothing, but as she dries, she looks down at her work instead of looking at him and asks, "You are a God, yes? You've been through quite a few battles?"


"I would prefer you die an old woman instead, warm in her bed, if the Fates would allow it."

Thor's words are meant to be encouraging, almost protective of the human woman who has brought him into her home and given him shelter. They're certainly delivered with a warm mirth mixed with a certain dash of chagrin. The attempt to cleanup has clearly not gone as smoothly as the God would have had it.

"I shall drop a towel when I am done with these. And I shall… turn the kettle on once I am able to remove these gloves."

His pink digits squirm in their confines, thick sausage fingers, each more muscly than the last, seeking freedom! Still, it's not like he KNOWS how Peggy Carter will die, right? He isn't the God of Seeing Death! As she pitches in, he shoots a smile down at her. "Truly you are my savior once more!" he rejoices.

Yes, he seems in good spirits, glad to have Peggy home. Could it be that he was getting lonely all by himself? An idle god, with nothing to do but watch Netflix and the Food Network.

He's handing her the last of the teacups and saucers when her question comes out. The teacup dangles as his brow furrows, a look of bemusement taking his features. "Yes, I am a God. Even now, I can hear people praying to me halfway across this Realm, and on planets distant, far from here." He's definitely staring past Peggy then, listening across time and space to those who would devote themselves to the Thunderer.

His eyes refocus, those deep blues twinkling with that general joviality he's known for. "And yes, untold thousands of battles, won and lost! What is it that you wish to slay?" He lifts his left hand, and bites at the latex fingertips, tugging ineffectively.

"Ish is a drahgun?" A question through clenched teeth.

—-

The talk of Peggy dying old, warm in her bed is met with a strangely startled look. "Yes." Her attempt to cover up what she knows is a vulnerable moment is poorly covered with that assertion. "One can only hope." Though, she knows that somewhere near Washington, DC there is a woman named Peggy Carter doing just that: dying of old age. But, that woman is not her. Who knows what her own future holds.

"There's no rush," she assures Thor with a warm grin as he attempts to help and assure her. Maybe he knows, maybe he doesn't. Peggy does not know the full scope of Thor's powers: only what she has read in the SHIELD files. And those are fantastical at best and unreliable at worst. Of course, she has seen enough remarkable and unexplainable things that perhaps they are all true. Or, maybe she should just learn from him. The files said nothing about interstellar goats, after all.

"I'm merely drying. You've done most of the hard work yourself! I thank you." All the times adopting speech and mannerisms to blend in sometimes exerts themselves in her own ways of speaking. Without thinking, she adopts some of Thor's speech patterns.

Peggy grins at his eagerness to help, his knowledge of battle and shrugs. "It's not so much as to what I have slain as to what to do when you continue to meet innocents on the battlefield that you could not have helped. Or stepping into a fight of which you do not know the rules. How can you protect others when you are unsure of how to protect yourself?"

Thinking back to her encounter in Baltimore, she adds, "Devoid philosophy, have you ever seen someone cast someone back from what was assuredly a death blow? I saw someone the other day…" she pauses, thinking back. "He was in his death throws, I know it. But, someone appeared, a light shone on him and he was…he was healed, brought back from the brink of death. Is that something of Asgard?"


He's made some headway with the gloves when the questions begin. Thor's about to respond when Peggy speaks more to, perhaps, the heart of her concern, an encounter that has potentially left the Agent rattled! "It may be," he begins, removing the second glove, hanging them to try over the kitchen faucet.

Sidestepping her, he collects the stove kettle, removing the lid to peer into its depths. "I have performed similar acts. Jane Foster was there for the last one, weeping like a girl out of scripture, a lovesick lamb about to lose her beloved."

Oh, the outright mirth in THAT! Thor's taking the piss, as some would put it, at Jane's expense. It likely didn't really go down that way! "Clearly, I got better." Chuckling, he elbows the water on, filling the pot. "Verily, I have seen countless things that you mortals would consider bizarre or strange. You even have books about men who walk on water and bring themselves back from the dead! It could be any number of things."

He waves his free hand to gesture the broad nature of it all. "I flick through the channels and I see the never-ending headlines. These mutants, these inhumans, these men from other planets with capes not nearly as grand as my own." Take THAT, Superman.

"It would seem there are many ways for a man to simply stand back up."

Placing the kettle on the stove, Thor flicks the gas on, turning to lean back against the counter. He crosses his arms over the apron. "Has Agent Carter found herself realizing the scale of the cosmos? A little like the first time a mortal stumbled onto a mountain giant." He pauses, hand scratching at his beard in thought. "I believe they called that one David…" The mead barrel is still in the fridge.


Peggy, drying dishes and setting them down gently on the counter next to her gives Thor a bit of a look and a mirk. "They called the other Goliath, I know my Bible stories, Thor. Honestly, I'm more surprised that you know them. Were they also told to you on Asgard?"

As she knows Jane far better now than she did when she suspected the woman of aiding a Soviet terrorist, she smirks. "Yes, I imagine Jane to be quite the lovesick lamb. She seems quite the type to be lost without her love." The sarcasm is thick, there. While she and Jane have not met each other often, when they do it seems their mutual experiences with Super Soldiers tends to give one insight into the other.

The methodical drying slows and she looks at Thor. "You know I don't mean in the grand scheme of things. Not mutant or inhuman." She can't help but give a soft laugh. "From what I have seen, your cape is certainly mightier." And that's not just her saying that. "I mean solely if you have witnessed anything of the like on Asgard. It seemed…not of this world. I don't think the people I saw the other day were of Earth." She sighs. "If you cannot say, I would prefer if you simply said you knew and could not say."

Setting the half dried tea cup down on the counter, Peggy glances down at the counter. "I know a little of this cosmos. I know…I know I was a woman in 1948, starting a company and then I researched missing people and then through some scientific mishap somehow ended up in this present day." She gives a soft laugh. "It was science, it was fate. There are a lot of explanations for it. But, I am here now and I know the reasons for that are beyond me. Perhaps that was the will of the cosmos."

—-

"Bible stories?" Thor looks puzzled, before he laughs, waving offhandedly. "Ah, yes, I am sure that must have been their basis for it. No, I was never told such stories. I was bathed in prophecy instead. A story for another time."

Still, all this talk of an otherworldly might! "It is as I said - it could have been many things. There are grand powers out there across the Nine Realms, and beyond them, Peggy. Giants who devour worlds, celestial beings who watch over us all. I would have to see it for myself, or perhaps just ask the man where his healing came from. We have healers on Asgard, and sorcerers, tricksters. We have potions that will knit your bones, replenish your health. My father sleeps for years in a bed designed to rejuvenate him."

His hands spread, plainly apologetic. "I do not mean to be rude - I simply do not know without more information."

That's honest enough! "You look quite good for your age, as far as mortals go," Thor clearly jokes, mouth twisting into a roguish grin. "Still properly endowed!" He did NOT need to gesture with his hands, but he sure does! Then he laughs about it!

"Ah, hmm," he subsides into another chuckle, checking on the kettle. A watched pot never boils, and so too does the kettle, it seems. "Would you like something a little harder to go with the tea?" he inquires, chin gesturing to the fridge and what lies within it.

"This will of the cosmos you speak of, we would call it the Norns on Asgard, the Fates. Three hags who are fond of telling me I am due to die to stop Ragnarok. I would recommend you take such things with a heavy spoon of sugar." He probably means grain of salt. He's not great with these sayings! "You are where you are meant to be, seeing what you are meant to see. There are endless worlds and realities out there. How far you wish to lift the veil is yours to choose.

"Not everything should be decided by the hags."

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