We Fixed It

May 14, 2018:

Thor and Black Cat meet a second time.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

WHAM.

The impact shakes the alleyway and the surrounding buildings, a ripple of a shudder passing through concrete, wood, stone, plastic alike. Two car alarms start to go off. One is a little Prius: it meeps mournfully, politely explaining its anguish, while a large truck next to it blares loud aggressive annoyance. From the dark alley there are a few more sounds, screams of metal.

The Black Cat was on a building rooftop. WAS being the operative word. And then, out of nowhere…

WHAM.

The Cat loses her footing and stumbles onto the scene below. Luckily, she has the presence of mind to fire a grapple hook back up toward the roof, and she manages to lower herself the rest of the way to the ground with comparative grace. She looks around cautiously. "What the hell?" Somewhere, someone is hurting a Prius. Poor little guy…

Something is going on in the alley. There is a huge male there, and he was trying to do something with a mangled dumpster. The what, exactly, may not entirely be apparent at least at first. He had his hands on it. It's a very big man, muscular, in a thick bomber jacket, snug jeans, big boots, and some black-rimmed glasses. There's a Dodgers baseball cap, with a long blonde ponytail out the back of it. There's some effort into the disguise. It probably fools about 0% of people, though.
Thor steps away from the dumpster as if to see if it will do anything, considers it, then steps forwards again and physically pushes one side in a little. Thor is trying to fix it. It's caved in on one side, so he hasn't really done much yet.
He doesn't jump or startle when yelled at, but certainly does look up and over. "We're all good here!" Thor calls back to her, projecting like always, and shows an 'A-OK' gesture, thumb to finger, back to whoever that is at the roof edge. But then he brightens, recognizing her.

Cat arches a brow, shifting her weight to her back foot, and places her hands on her hips. "What ARE you doing to that dumpster? Do you two need some privacy?" She smirks and continues walking in the direction of the wasted waste container. "What did you DO?"

Oh right, in disguise. But he's unsure if she's recognized him yet. Maybe not! Play along. Thor looks at the dumpster, then at her. "It suffered when I landed on it," Thor says, looking at it. "I did not expect it to be so brittle, I barely exerted any force upon it." He looks at it, but doesn't interfere with her approach. The dumpster itself has just a few crushed cardboard boxes in it, but the metal itself is very dented from having Thor land on it.

"Tsk," utters Cat as she examines the dumpster. "You know, Thor Odinson, when an angel falls from heaven, he should land on something soft. And less…garbage-y." She peers inside and sighs with relief. "Well at least you didn't land on anything smelly." She grabs hold of the top edge of the dumpster and carefully pushes one of the dents out with the other. Then, turning her delicately masked face back toward him she offers an easy smile. "One down, ten to go." What disguise?

Thor observes her touching the dumpster (and fixing it!) and looks suitably impressed. She is strong for a mortal. "You are strong for a mortal!" Thor observes, with easy honesty. "And observant! My disguise to fit amongst those of Midgard seems to have failed," Thor laments with a softened dismay at his failure, and pulls the glasses off his face. They're annoying, so no point in leaving those on. He puts them into a rear pocket, where they stick out.
"I am uncertain what this object is supposed to look like. More rectangular, I assume." Thor isn't familiar with dumpsters, but comes over to gently pull up one crushed corner. "It is pleasant to see you again, Feline of Darkness."

"It's good to see you too. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were…" Cat gestures vaguely. "It's a good disguise. I'm just…really good at seeing through disguises." Hopefully that helps.

"Yes, more rectangular…and taller," she agrees, nodding with approval as he straightens the corner. She steps on a wheel on the opposite corner and pushes upward a little, straightening one crease. "And thanks….I work out."

"It is apparent that you 'work out'! Are you also good at designing disguise? Perhaps you would not mind advising me on what I am doing improperly," Thor suggests with a brazen hopeful quality. He gives her a bright smile as she fixes the wheel for him, the sudden warmth and spark to his visage very apparent. The god of thunder smiles upon her!

"I think it is roughly back to how it was," Thor says, and closes the lid. Which then falls off the hinges and into the alley.

"Oh, good," Cat remarks. "You put the lid back on the ground where it goes. You do think of ALL the details, don't you?"

She looks over the dumpster with a nod of approval. For the first time in her life, and possibly the last. Depends on how many the Angel falls on. "So what made you decide to just drop in here this way? It sounded like you stubbed yer toe on a Prius." She must not melt under that approving smile. Otherwise he'll be straightening her out next.

"Because my chariot is much more intrusive when I am attempting to blend in," Thor answers her evenly without a hint of anything other than being fully serious. "Although my goats are very well trained and do not stray, some find them odd." Thor picks up the lid from the ground and sets it back on the dumpster generally askew to where it should be. It could have been worse: it's staying, at least.
"What is a Prius?" Thor asks, interested, and looks around on the ground, but approaches her, to include his search at her feet as well as his own. "If I did stub upon it, I did not see it."

The Black Cat can't do anything but stare at Thor, wide-eyed. For a moment, then two moments…possibly even three, her lips open as if to say something, but they just halt, as if her voice has been stolen away. As he looks at her feet for the Prius, she…for what reason she cannot divine…looks, too. "It's…actually a car. The one that sounded pathet—there." She nods to a lipstick magenta prius, where a burly lumberjack - type of guy is getting in. She lowers her voice a little. "The Prius is HIS chariot…"

"Oh, certainly. A type of car." Thor gets it. He just didn't recognize what the term was. "My chariot is far better," Thor asides to her, in a private manner. Thor tends to stage-whisper, though, so there's no danger of her not hearing him. "As it can go into space." That is probably not the qualifier she was expecting about the matter. "And my goats are well trained in battle." Straight-faced: he's either great at deadpan jokes, or isn't joking. But then he releases one of those grins. "I am aware it sounds silly to mortals. And that is all right."

"MUCH better," Cat agrees as the lipstick eases out into traffic as fast as the hamster can carry it. Then, she shakes her head. "I don't think it's silly, Thor. I'd kinda like to see that someday. Space. In a chariot. Goats…" Her smile's a little dreamy, tugging one corner of her mouth a little higher than the other, and her eyes are asparkle with that green-eyed excitement. Just to believe for a moment that he's real is enough to make her look a little awestruck. "Yeah, we'll have to look into other disguises. I'm sure we can find something. I'll take you to my seamstress. She's amazing."
"Alas, it is not here, though I suppose I could fetch it, if it would be a dream of yours to see it," Thor says, in a thoughtful way. He doesn't really mind helping others, and that ask is a fairly minor thing. It perhaps is one matter to see Thor, and another to see a magical goat chariot in action, after all.
"Your seamstress? Then it is the quality of my attire that is the problem?" Thor asks, gesturing to the coat he's wearing. "I was told it was very standard for what I should wear when it is cold," Thor says, suddenly taking off the jacket and inspecting it more closely. He has a lime green tank-top under it with several long black athletic marks down around the upper shoulders and down the abdomen. She got a free ticket to the gun show, though he isn't flexing, he's scowling at the jacket.

"N-no, no…" Cat shakes her head vacantly, protesting something, but she can't remember what. So she watches Thor's muscscowl, as he examinesOh right! "Your jacket is fine…Though completely unnecessary." The remark is offhanded, and she waves a dismissal to the suggestion. "Your clothes are fine. But a ball cap doesn't hide your face. And I can't imagine anyone would ever be fooled by a pair of glasses, especially if they aren't even necessary. You are just amazing….ly unique and is it getting hot out here?" Cat fans herself, overheating in her leather suit, and sit sits down…then lies back, feeling faint."

"I still do not see a strong need to hide who I am, but I understand some practice could be good for me in the cases it is necessary for diplomatic reasons," Thor is saying, unaware of any issue she may be having with her explanation. At least, until she sits down, and he orients on her quickly, immediately moving to squat next to her, concern apparent in light blue eyes and furrowed brow. "Hot? There is chill in the air, if anything. Are you feeling ill, Feline?" Thor asks her more gently, resting an elbow on his raised knee, studying her, and then moving to attempt to put the jacket behind her as she leans back, mushing it between her and the dumpster's dented surface.

"Oh…I'm fine…Just…" It has taken some time, but Felicia realizes that she has likely broken something in her stumble and fall. Her side. Cracked a rib, maybe. Shake it off. Just a little while longer. Nothing that won't mend. "No I'm fine. Just got a little dizzy. I'm good. Probably just all the excitement…" She looks up into Thor's face and instantly realizes that came out differently than she'd intended.

"Excitement?" Thor asks, curious. He doesn't immediately assume he is the excitement factor. "Did you over-exert assisting me with the metal box repair?" Thor asks, still with his puzzled look. It isn't reproving, more that he's unsure what she means. "Relax for a time," is the suggestion to her, with an added smile, remaining squatted.

"I'm good. I'm up…" Cat claims, wholly unconvincingly because she is, in fact, NOT up. She tries to rise, a growl in her throat as she does. He fell on a dumpster and he's fine. She stumbles off the edge of a building and…well, she guesses that sounds worse than it was…."Why did you come -here-?" She asks, trying to change the subject once she's made it to her feet, and handing him back his jacket.

Thor does offer a hand but won't push the issue at all if she wants to get up on her own. He respects warriors that want to do such things without help, of course.
"There is a bar nearby I enjoy. Are you often here in this part of the city?" Thor asks, though he's eying her as if to assess if she's well enough or not. Skeptical but not asking.

Cat takes his hand only briefly, but stands up, essentially, on her own. She shakes her head. "I'm fine. Maybe just got knocked around harder than I thought, earlier."

Narrowing her eyes at Thor she inclines her head. "Does it require magick to get in? Or is it a place for us normal puny humans, too?" she asks with a wry grin.
"In combat?" Thor asks, with clear appreciation. Battle wounds are clearly something he respects and understands. He gives her a sort of nod, backing off on asking if she's fine. She's a crime-fighter in his estimation, after all.
"It does require an escort for entry, yes. I do not cast magic, but my nature allows me entrance. I can take others with me if I choose. And you would not be the only puny human, but perhaps the only non-magical one," Thor says, helping.

"A bit of a battle," she agrees. With gravity. "But I'm fine. Honest."

Breathing a laugh and a wince, Cat nods. "Well I do like standing out in a crowd. Maybe I could come with ya for awhile, if you wouldn't mind the company." She rakes her fingers through her careless platinum hair making sure there isn't any of Thor's landing pad stuck in it. Garbage in hair will almost -always- keep you from getting past the bouncer.

"I don't see why not," Thor says, though he does blink at her suggestion. He didn't expect her wanting to come see the bar. He watches her fix and adjust her hair. And he warms some, since, well, he enjoys company while drinking usually. "You may need to beware about ordering some of the things, though, as some may destroy a mortal more readily than gravity," Thor cautions. He collects his jacket back on, as well as the shoulder bag he must have set down at some point while he was fixing the dumpster.

"I think I can hold my own," Cat says with a grin, nudging Thor with her good side. "You'll have to keep me from drinking anything that'll destroy my puny human form, though, yeah?"

"That means I will need to stay coherent," Thor muses, but smiles aside at her. He clearly doesn't mind. Thor doesn't have any read of a liar or dismay about him. "I am willing to escort you safely, Feline of the Black," Thor says with a seriousness and direct quality. Thor and his oathmaking: the honorable quality he projects has a great deal of weight. "Come - it is currently in this direction," Thor says, gesturing with his other hand out of the alley.

"Currently?" Cat asks, trailing behind him. Where is it usually…?" After considering the quandary, she hastens to Thor's side and takes his arm, somewhat excited to see where he spends his time…and get a little alcohol in her to dull this ache.

“It varies,” Thor says, in an ‘of course it does’ manner, and the same way he talked about his magical flying goats. It just is that way. He leads her along a certain way, before turning off towards an unremarkable business that looks closed. The magic, though, allows them in as he arrives and draws his hammer out. There’s a flutter of magic across and through it, and Thor brings her directly into the bar from there, for an eyeball of the weird sights within and odder drinks.

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