June 23, 2018:

Thor and Peggy catch up over an illegal barbecue on Peggy's roof.

Peggy and Thor's Apartment


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Carol Danvers, Phil Coulson, Tony Stark, Atli, Fandral


Mood Music: [* None.]

Fade In…

The nature of godhood brings with it a poor perception of time. When feeling languid it’s not uncommon for to leave the apartment in the morning with him seated on the sofa, watching some program, and then return home in the evening with him in the same place. Then, bored of that, he may vanish for two weeks and return a tale of conquest against dragons or trolls as if the whole adventure had merely been ‘a routine day at the office’.

After a prolonged absence it became clear Thor had returned. A cask of ale in the fridge. Cans of Australia’s finest brew ‘FOSTERS’ crumpled in nuggets of aluminum and tossed into the recycling. Sometimes Peggy would return home to find a note that reads ‘I HAVE MADE DINNER. IT IS IN THE FRIDGE’ and a plate, or a dish, or leftover takeout. Things are rarely a mess but the general sense of the apartment is one that ‘someone else has been here’ because items have shifted or a used glass sits forgotten upon the coffee table.

Tonight the note reads, ‘ON ROOF’, as if he somehow knew she would return before he came back down.

[Rooftop – Apartment Building – Upper East Side]

It’s Friday night. The sun has just set such that the orange and red hues of the sky are quickly fading to black and the starts have just begun to become clear in the cloudless sky.

The smell of burning wood and roasting meat had made its way into the apartment. The door to the roof cracked such that all of the air conditioning is rapidly escaping into the New York air but it allows one to hear the crackle and pop of flames. The smells of the cookout growing ever stronger the closer ones gets until …

A ring of bricks sits atop a layer of dirt and mulch the center of the scene. The wood which had been steepled high has collapsed creating a peaceful fire. The lights added an orange hue to what is nearby. An arrangement of twelve potted plants whose stalks reach upward and stems adorned with nine-pointed leaves. A barrel upon a milk crate. A set of sharp knives upon a metal tray upon the barel. A goat, almost as tall as a human, that flicks its tail and grazes upon a pile of the building’s recycling. And, of course, Thor.

Thor, Son of Odin; Barefoot and shirtless his trunk is covered by a pair of tight leather pants that stop just below his ample calves. He grips a metal spear which he uses as a spit and that he turns slowly over the flame slowly cooking the wide hunk of meet upon its tip.

“Yes, I know,” his deep baritone carries on a casual conversation, “but the moon has never been a portal to Muspelheim,” Thor says legs stretched out before him with one brawny arm, holding the spear, poised upon his bent knee at the forearm, “But even if it were the whole neighborhood need not know.”

Toothginder looks up from its meal and makes a sound, ‘blah’, and flicks its tail. Then goes back to eating.

To this action Thor shakes his head and sighs.


Another day, another lifetime ago, Peggy might have been annoyed, flustered, or demanding that goat be put on a leash when she makes her way to the rooftop of their shared penthouse flat. However, in the many months that she has been Thor's roommate, things have changed a bit. She's gotten used to the Asgardian's ways, to both his thoughtfulness, his obliviousness and his goats. Oh, and his tendency to go shirtless. Those are all things to which she has acclimated.

The note has, evidently, been read and Peggy opens the rooftop door with a six-pack of Australia's finest brew. "That is violating somewhere in the range of a dozen New York City fire and roof codes," Peggy tells Thor dryly, knowing he either doesn't know or doesn't care about such Midgardian things such as those. And, truthfully, she doesn't mind right now. The barbecue smells really good.

A pointed eye is given to the nine-leafed plants for a moment. First, though, she sets the drinks down on a nearby table. Giving Toothgrinder his space, she raises an eyebrow. "What is Muspelheim?"


The sound of a voice. A human voice.

Thor’s gaze is drawn immediately to the doorway. When he looks at her his head tilts slightly to the right and immediately his face brightens. The Thunderer’s eyes brighten as blue-eyes possess a joy that out does the reflection of orange flame that dance at their center. Lips part and a wide grin moves across his features as he moves forward and shifts to stand. He lifts the spear, so that it’s now well above the flame, and the meat begins to slowly slide downward for the incline.

He begins to respond but, seeing catastrophe, tilts the spear forward again. So that the meat dangles again but a bit further down and he loudly clear his voice as if attempting to cover the incident, “/Nay/,” he responds with a tone of mirth, “Tis only a violation when one does not command the storms.” He gestures skyward with the hand not clutching the spear, “Rest easy, fire brigade, for the God of Thunder tends this fire.” His grin becomes a bit lopsided, smirking at his own humor.

“A fine question,” he compliments her and then gestures her forward, “Come let us of drink the nectar of Australia,” Still clutching the spear over the fire he begins to circumnavigate the fire pit until he reaches a folding beach chair. Using one hand and a foot he begins to struggle to get it open. Such devices are not really meant to be handled with one hand.

“Muspelheim tis the realm of fire,” he says despite his battle with the chair, “Ruled by the demon Surtur whom is an ancient enemy of my father. A realm Asgard has ..” he pauses, foot caught on the chair, and begins to hop for a moment until he gets it free, “sworn to protect. Though we find ourselves most often protecting the other realms from them.”

“You are home early,” Thor observes in a manner that seems to want more information but then he adds, “which is good. For I have nearly completed our meal.” Also providing an out if she wishes to not discuss her day.


"I'm sure you have a permit that allows you rooftop open fire barbecues due to your status as storm bringer. I would have loved to notarize that form." Peggy smirks, clearly not that upset about the turn of events, as there happens to be dinner at the end of it. Having dealt with Howard for so many years and now Tony, Thor seems to be merely another extension of logically clueless but generally good hearted men that she collects in her life.

Easily, Peggy helps Thor open up the beach chair, holding the back rod so that he can kick the front out so that it unfolds. She waits patiently while he hops about and even gives him something of an amused grin. While she is generally a guarded woman, there is something about Thor's general haphazard confidence that puts her at ease. It's exactly why the two of them somehow are able to live together so peaceably.

"It's nine realms, yes? That Asgard protects? And the realm of Fire is one?" A pause. "So, the protection that you provide is both for them and for others against them?" That's an interesting thought she hadn't thought of before.

As for why she is home early, she lets out a breath. "Yes. I am. Things have been getting progressively worse at SHIELD. It seemed best to step out." With a weak smile, she adds, "Thank you for cooking. It's rather thoughtful of you."


Thor pauses in his battle against the chair as Peggy comes over to assist him. When finally the chair-beast has been flayed open he sets it upon the rooftop and then gestures to at indicating that it was she who should have the honor of a proper seat during the feast.

“Aye,” Thor confirms moving around the fire and then kneeling down with knees played outward so that he’s squatting like a frog and roasting the meat a bit more, “Nine realm.” He focuses upon his duties as grill master for a long moment and then looks slowly upward, “Nine realms quarrel,” Thor says, “As if they were nine people of varied desire. The elves quarrel with the dwarves whom dislike the giants. The dark elves seek to gain advantage over them all. Which is why they are called dark even though they are truly /just blue/ while the realm of death ruled by my sister shall someday claim them all.”

“As with Midgard,” Thor says with a casual simplicity, “Asgard seeks to keep the peace such that no /realm/ or threats /beyond/ over takes /another/. Tis not our place to meddle in every internal conflict.” He stands there and works the spear inward. Hand-over-hand he pulls the searing hot metal closer a faint ‘tss’ audible as the cool flesh of his palms provides a greater surface for the heat though the temperature of it seems to give Thor no discomfort.

With his two hands gripping the spear just beneath the meat he lifts it to his nostrils and gives it a mighty sniff. Then he looks at Peggy, grin returning, and brandishes the barbeque a bit higher, “Tis ready.” He says to her and then removes one hand before trekking towards the metal tray and the knives atop the barrel.

Pushing his hand along the length of the spear he deposits the meet upon the tray and then discards the glowing spit upon the roof. Taking the knives then he begins to carve it. Knife and fork. He cuts a lean piece of meat from the hunk and moves it to his lips blowing twice upon it as if to cool it.

He walks towards Peggy then thrusting the medium-rare flank outward for her to take and as he does so blond brow draws inward with concern, “You are welcome.” He says first then asking, “Worse?” And squints then trying to calculate how long it has been since they talked of SHIELD, “I did not know things were bad,” he admits obviously uncertain if its forgetfulness or simply because they have not spoken recently, “Tell me what has happened.”


"So Asgard is kind of like the UN of the realms? Is that what I call all the different planes? I'm actually not sure what the proper term is."

With Thor's beach chair properly arranged, she opens one up for herself and drops the sunglasses that were perched on forehead back onto her nose. Settling back she opens two Fosters and passes one out so that it is within easy reach for Thor. He is doing the lion's share of the cooking right now, it's only fair she open his beer for him.

With the cooking done, a fork is offered her, without nay sort of plate or other utensil to eat it. While she blinks a few times, Agent Carter is game. She ate with less and worse in the trenches. Taking the fork from Thor, she blows on it a few times herself. She has lived with Thor long enough to know that he has a far lower standards as to when it is 'cool enough'. Asgardian mouth roof constitution is apparently a thing along with their ability to drink just about anyone under the table.

"They are," she says with a sigh. It has been awhile since they've actually talked. "I don't know how much you know about me…about my situation about being here. But, I'm something of an anomaly. I'm not really suppose to be here at all, but here I am all the same. I certainly don't mind it. However, it does make for some challenges. And lately SHIELD has been dealing with quite a few things that seem to be wrapped up in a past I do not remember."


When she takes the meat and blows upon it he hovers a moment and says, “Let me know if it is not to your liking,” but does not press her to devour it immediately. The meat itself was not seasoned but the slow broil over the flame has left it tender, juicy, as mastered by someone who has partaken in this sort-of ritual thousands of times over as many years. The braised goat tastes similar to lamb and not at all like beef or chicken.

Without immediate burden he picks up the beer she left out for him and lifts it in a sort-of salute, “To good friends,” Thor says in a toast and then puts the beer to his lips and tips it backward with a loud slurping sip punctuated by an ‘ahh’.

Taking the can with him back to the metal tray he stoops a bit and puts it upon the ground before hefting carving knife and another fork, “I know that you are here,” Thor replies carving the meat into slivers, “and that if you were not here we would not be together.” His look is pastoral there as he gives her his comforting smile, “I cannot say where you are /meant/ to be, Peggy,” Thor says, “but I cannot imagine you not being /here/ without purpose.”

“It is difficult to change that which has been written,” the Asgardian says and resumes cutting, “mayhaps what is needed is someone whom is not fettered by a history that cannot be remembered.”

“Know that I am here to aid you, Peggy. Whether by ear or by hammer.”

He finishes slicing the meat setting knife and fork upon the tray. Sucking juices from his fingers he then wipes them upon his leather pants and then reaches under the table bearing the barrel and the meat.

From a bag he produces Styrofoam plates. Splitting the bag open he pulls out one and then begins to fork a mountain of meat upon it, “Tis funny that you mention the UN.” Thor says walking the plate to her, “Very recently was I visited by Carol Danvers,” he offers the plate and meat-mountain to her.

“She stated the UN wished for Midgard and Asgard to withdraw from their ancient pact,” He smirks at that as if this were a very quant idea, “That mankind was 'too advanced' to have gods fighting their battles.” The corners of his lips twitch and the smirk collapses as he turns away and begins to fork another mountain of meat onto another plate.

When he looks up again his face is more somber, “Is this what mankind truly desires?” As if she were its chief diplomat.


"It certainly is," Peggy agrees with a sigh. She takes a long drink from her Fosters and then a large helping of the steak on her fork. Once she's done chewing, she looks out over the view of the river and the city around them. It's a nice view. And there is - strangely enough - a bonfire right beside her to enjoy it. The fire crackles and the smell of smoke, meat and cheap beer can't help but make her smile as she looks out on her adopted city.

"Thank you, Thor." The words are simple, but the tone and meaning are quite heartfelt. "I know that. I appreciate. it. Honestly, I like you living here. Before it was just me walking about here alone, neighbors as strangers. Before, I lived in an apartment building. I had a small room, but the entire building was inhabited with women and we were all friends. Now it's a lot more like living at Griffith than it was before, and I'm glad for it." A smirk. "Though, I will say, the girls never went to the roof to make a bonfire barbecue Ms. Fry would have had a heart attack. And Toothginder would have been an absolute no-no. No men allowed."

At the knowledge of what Carol told him, Peggy suddenly frowns. "She said what?" There's a frown. "I cannot speak for all mankind, to be sure, Thor, but I know that I certainly am glad that you are here. I'm not sure what Agent Danvers seems to think. What exactly did she ask of you?"


Thor squats to recover his beer and then walks to the chair they had set up earlier. Taking a tall step over its top he straddles it for a moment and then leans backward such that he collapses gently into it. Sipping first from his Fosters he then sets that upon the ground and begins to use his fingers to eat the slivers of goat. His mannerisms are not sloppy nor uncouth simply lacking utensil as if, to him, this setting was some greater piece of history before men used fork or napkin.

Chewing for several moments he swallows, “And I enjoy living with you, Peggy.” He reaches for the beer again, “I think that I understand,” he says to her past. “My fondest memories are living amongst mankind. In camps and in longhouse,” he slurps from his beer and then gestures with it, “in my father’s home, in Asgard, I am surrounded by people but there are perhaps only six that I know well.”

“Now I feel as if I have a place where I belong. Not as Odinson but as Thor.”

Looking to Toothgrinder then he takes a sliver of the meat and chucks it into the pile of recycling. The goat goes ‘blah’ and begins to root around for it.

“A building full of women and no men allowed,” Thor says then, and with good humor, “Tis no wonder you became so skilled in the secret arts of the ‘spy’.”

Sipping again from his can he sets it to the ground again and forces meat into his mouth, “Mmph,” he replies through closed lips to her question and then swallows, “Carol stated that the United Nations did not recognize mankind’s pact with Asgard. That she was empowered to speak with me about a treaty and that they wished for new rules to govern our presence upon this world.”

“That a woman wearing the sigil of an alien world should negotiate the needs of humanity in order to hamper those who has protected the realm for millions of years,” Thor prattles on his tone evident that he believes there to be some nefarious motivation. Face turning to a grimace as flickering flames cast dark shadows across the lines of his face, “It is the sort-of scheme my brother might concoct and /woe/ be unto him if I find that this is some jest he has woven.”


"I was a spy long before I lived in the Griffith Hotel," Peggy tells Thor with a grin, finishing off the last of her meat. "Do you seem to think that being a spy is an inherently womanly ability?"

At his explanation about the UN and Carol's words, she frowns. "Carol is the second in command of SWORD, which is a part of SHIELD. She certainly has authority. However, I don't believe she can start to revoke treaties between Asgard and Midgard." She thinks for a moment. "Is there a formal treaty between Asgard and Midgard? I'm not sure why I've never thought to ask this before."

With pursed lips, she shakes her head. "I am sure Agent Danvers has good intentions in mind, but everyone can be blind to things at time. I can speak to her. I doubt she has schemes in mind rather than being a bit absolutist."

With an eyebrow raised, she grins. "I've yet to meet Loki. I think I should count my blessings on that count. My life is already messed up."


“Nay,” he responds and then rocks forward to stand once more, “but tis a trait for someone who wishes what they are told they may not have.” He picks up his can and balances it upon his own plate before walking over and taking hers, “In truth, I believe Fandral doth possess the qualities of a spy for he would have thought the Griffith to be a fine challenge.” Walking towards the dwindling pile of recycling he tosses the can and the plates into the heap near Toothgrinder.

“Fandral,” he explains, “Is one of the friends that I spoke of. One of the warriors three whom has journeyed with me across the nine realms.” He wipes his hands together and then across the front of his leather breeches.

“Perhaps Carol meant no harm,” Thor concedes, “but tis a bold thing to propose that a pact between Asgard and Midgard be abolished.”

‘ there a formal treaty?’

“Hrm,” Thor’s sound is thoughtful consideration and to her question he finally shrugs his broad shoulders, “Asgard has protected Midgard since the times before mankind had possessed a means to write,” The god of thunder says now bending to pluck two more cans from the pack of Australia’s finest.

“That mankind calls to us when aid is required hath always been reason enough,” one can in each hand he hooks his thumbs beneath the tabs and pops them open ‘tssh’, a bit of foam trickling down both wrists.

“Do birds broker treaty with the winds?” Thor asks, “Or the fish with the sea?”

He offers her one of the cans then and drinks from the other, “Would that Asgard had to broker the reason for its existence with every mortal that might rise to power then what certainty would Midgard have that we will always answer their call as we have since the time of the first men?”

Thor lowers his gaze then suddenly feeling a bit like his father. The feeling twists his stomach into a knot.

“Loki,” Thor says some mirth returning to his face, “would enjoy this moment; but he vexes me greatly and I would not wish for you to be vexed that way.” His gaze remains upon her for a long moment as she speaks of her ‘messed up life’, “Tell me more of your plight so that we might find a way to have more time upon the roof; with Toothgrinder."

The goat goes, 'bleh,' as its name and stamps its front hoof now chewing one of the discarded plates.


Thor's answer actually gives Peggy a moment of pause. That makes quite a bit of sense, actually. After a moment, she gives a thoughtful look out along the skyline as he explains Fandral and how he would think Griffith would be a challenge. "Ah, so your friend is something of a lady chaser I take it?" Nodding, she laughs. "Yes, I once had to sneak a friend of mine into the hotel. Men were strictly forbidden above the first floor, but Howard was a fugitive and I needed a safe place to hide him. Of course, first chance he got, he was across the hallway flirting with one of my neighbors. I bet he and your friend would have gotten along quite well."

As the talk moves on to Carol, she nods. "As I said, Carol has the best of intentions, however she also helps protect Earth from threats from space. And, well, Asgard has quite a bit of power and should they wish to harm Earth, they could certainly do some damage. However, if there is a treaty on paper, that certainly would help things."

Taking the can from him, she takes a grateful drink. Unable to help herself, she smiles at Thor's counterarguments. 'Do birds broker treaty with the winds.' At times speaking with him is like living in a Shakespeare play. It's refreshing, honestly. "Perhaps they don't, however those are laws everyone must obey due to science. This is something far more complicated: politics. I would certainly much prefer to have Asgard as a friend, rather than an enemy, to be sure. And rocking the boat on such a thing is certainly not SHIELD's intention…" she pauses, realizing she's speaking for SHIELD rather than herself and shakes her head. "I certainly would never wish to lose Asgard as an ally." There's a sigh. "I'll talk to Carol."

As Thor lowers her gaze, she gives him something of a reassuring smile, misreading the reason for his melancholy. "I'll make sure things are settled for you and the other Asgardians. Don't worry."

As Thor asks about her messed up life, she gives a bit of a laugh. "Well, I am a woman who is not supposed to be here, Thor Odinson. I was supposed to live out my life, helm SHIELD through the Cold War and then - it seems - die in her bed. But I didn't. I'm here now. And it's…complicated. I am myself, but I'm not the woman people know. Even the people I know and love…they're not seeing me. They're seeing me plus this echo of someone else. Or maybe they see me as the echo."

There's a deep breath and she shakes her head while taking a long swig of her beer. "Nevermind, this is all just me feeling sorry for myself. Keep calm and carry on, as the saying goes."


“Most certainly so,” Thor replies and looks to Peggy before following her gaze outward and across the sky, “Fandral the dashing,” he says his companion’s name with a fond reverence, “and Howard would have gotten along well.”

There’s a long pause and then he walks to the cord of wood that has been stacked near his garden. Lifting one of the logs he walks it towards the dwindling blaze and the kneels before the pit placing his drink down near his bare feet. Using his hands he begins to pull the log into large fist-sized chips which he tosses into the fire.

“Politics,” Thor repeats the word as if it were slightly bitter and just shakes his head, “That mankind is not united on this matter helps calm my thoughts.”

At her offer to speak with Carol he puts the remainder of the wood into the flame and then retakes his beer before standing, “Nay, Peggy.” He replies the timbre of his voice suddenly quite serious, “I would not have you intervene on my account.”

After a moment, Thor the somber look breaks into an appreciative smile “That is,” he begins, “I thank you for your offer but would prefer to attend to this matter myself.”

He goes to sit down again leaning back into the folding chair and as she explains her own situation he gives a low thoughtful sound and rolls his head to one side to he looks at her, “You sound very certain of your fate,” Thor says, “I have never concerned myself too greatly with prophecy. Is the journey of existence not of greater importance than its end?”

“To know a person to the end of their adventure and then to find them again near its start? Tis confusing,” Thor agrees, “but who you are today shall be more important than who they believe that you were because it is you who helps to shape where their journey leads.”

“Would that I were to awake in a world where my legacy were complete I too would be 'feel sorry for myself',” Thor admits, “My granddaughter tells me that in the future I shall become my father but this does not seem right and so I ignore her because the man she knew is not the man that I am today.”


A world with a paired up Howard and Fandral would almost certainly not survive. It's probably for the best they never knew each other. In her beach chair, Peggy nods at Thor's bitter tone about politics. That is exactly the games she plays, but she also doesn't think very highly of all the tactics.

Thor ripping apart logs shirtless gets a noticeable eyebrow raise from behind her sunglasses. She can't help it: it really is a nice sight. The seriousness is met with a shake of her head. The moment of watching a handsome man rip apart wood with his bare hands is gone. Instead, she is back to business. "It would not just be for your sake. Asgard is a valuable ally to Earth. I simply cannot let Carol alienate those that might help us. This is about diplomacy." A sip a beer. "As well as you. Who would make my impromptu roasted meat for me if Asgard and Earth suddenly became contested? Also, where would Toothgrinder go for rooftop bonfires?"

His push forward is met with a tilt of her head and she purses her lips. "Alright. Though, I do still need to talk to Carol. She's representing SHIELD and therefore if she is acting as such to known allies, I need to speak to her. This is about more than just you and your people."

The topic shifts to her own plight and she frowns, tipping the beer back and finishing it. She's drinking much like Thor tonight, it seems. Finding another beer that she had left to the side, she picks that one up. It's a little warm, but that's fine. "This is not so much about prophecy. There was a Peggy Carter that lived that life already," she says softly. "A woman who was me. Who lived her life uninterrupted. She ran SHIELD, she had a family, she grew old. And then she was murdered in her bed by someone from her past."

However, Thor's words about the fact that he ignores his granddaughters words are met with a smile. "I have always lived my life in knowing my own value and also knowing that others will not value it as highly. I have spent many years in proving people wrong. Now that has been proved without a doubt, but it was someone named Peggy Carter that is not me. I, to be honest, feel a bit at a loss even as I know what the next steps are. I have never felt this way before. I've never felt a loss of purpose."


‘Blah’, replies Toothgrinder.

“Hush,” Thor replies to the goat leaning his head backward so that the weight of it is supported by his chair, “They have machines that eat their garbage,” the Asgardian turns to look at the beast, “hold, did you truly believe that you had been eating all the garbage upon Midgard?” The Thunderer laughs at his companion there; the sound of it bellowing richly across the rooftop.

The goat-lord’s nostrils flare and it exhales roughly pawing at the masonry again. Then it starts to eat once more.

“Aaah,” he wipes his left eye as the laughter leaves him.

“Hmm,” the languid roll of his head to her side is interrupted when she says ‘murdered’ and this draws him forward in his seat, “I..” his jaw tenses in the flickering light, “..did not know this?” For a moment he racks his brain certain that if she had told him that some version of her had been murdered he would remember.

“Peggy,” his voice suddenly sobering, “Tell me whom is responsible and I shall bring them to you so that you may reconcile this matter. If you know not; then I swear to you that should they come here it will be the last mistake that they should ever make.”

Blue eyes narrow fiercely for his need to protect his allies, “I swear it.”

His promise simmers for a long moment and then he asks her, “What … are the next steps?” As if her final words might mean that she has found some path beyond his sudden desire for justice.


As she finds happening quite a bit in her interactions with Thor and his goats, Peggy can't help but grin. Even as she reveals what has been eating at her for awhile, even as she talks about things she has yet to bring up to anyone, the antics of Toothgrinder make her smile. It's a welcome thing. A goat that thinks he can eat the trash of all of Midgard. If only that were truly a thing that could happen.

"I know." Peggy nods to Thor, the smile fading into something far more serious. She takes another long drink of her Fosters. "It's in the papers that Peggy Carter died of natural causes, but the official SHIELD report notes there were toxins in her system. Either she did this to herself or someone did this to her." Or she did it to herself because someone was going to do something to her. Either way, someone forced Peggy to ingest those poisons.

"I don't know who is responsible. She was sent black roses before, as a warning. That's all we have as a clue. We're trying to figure out who he is." In a gesture, she plucks the sunglasses off of her eyes and rests them back on her forehead. Turning to look at Thor, her eyes are earnest and she gives him a sad smile in thanks for his desire to help bring the villain to justice. As he swears, she reaches out to squeeze his arm for just a second and then drops it back down to beach chair arm. "Thank you."

The next steps are not quite as laid out as she would want them to be. She sighs and shrugs her shoulders. "We're trying to find him. Until we do, it's trying to make sure we don't lose anyone else. Did you know Phil Coulson? He was also killed recently." There's a wry smile. "I fear going forward is quite a lot of espionage. Once I get a location or a person, I will certainly let you know. If you have ever met a spy named Palmer, though, I'd take that information."


When she touches his arm he reaches to put his other hand hand briefly over hers, Thor’s rough calloused palm holding it there for a beat, “Of course,” he replies to her thanks and then takes his hand away.

“Son of Coul,” the Thunderer replies to her question, “Aye. I met him once when I brought you lunch although I did not know that he had passed on.” This news, the black roses, a coward's weapon, and that there might be more to deaths to come forces him to exhale slowly and look up towards the sky. Thick fingers grip the arms of his chair tightly the plastic twisting within his grip.

“Peggy,” Thor begins his gaze turning from the heavens and then onto her with a somber look to his countenance, “If ever you find yourself in peril and in need of a companion I would ask that you consider praying to me for aid.”
Then adding, “If ever I encounter a spy named Palmer I shall place my hammer upon his foot and summon Toothgrinder so that I might inform you.”

Toothginder looks slowly upward then its mouth working on a hunk of cardboard, ‘bleh’.

Thor then looks to the goat as if it had lost its mind, “Because I will not have my hammer so you will have to fly me to Peggy,” to which the goat lowers its head and begins to root through the pile of recycling with its horns, grumbling to itself, prompting Thor to recoil slightly and then say, “No, my phone will have exhausted its power.” The god of thunder then looks over towards the barrel where his phone sits and then is reminded that he should have plugged it in.

“I mean to have a revelry,” Thor then reveals but gestures to Peggy as if trying to ward off the natural fear every roomate should have when the god of thunder makes such a statement, “At Tony Stark’s fortress for all of our allies. When he has agreed I would like for you to join us.”


"Once we find this man, I'll be sure to call you to ensure he gets what he deserves." there is no pulling of verbal blows on that score. Peggy clearly wants the man who she is searching for to be found and to also pay for what he has done. "I'm sorry to deliver the news of Agent Coulson to you like this. He was a good man and a dedicated agent. He is sorely missed and mourned."

Thor's offer of help is met with a smile and a nod. "I do appreciate that. Should I need the help, I will be sure to pray for you." Even if the idea of that rubs against her Church of England upbringings. "It's good to know that you watch out for both me and Midgard, Thor." Perhaps it is the beers talking, but she sounds very sincere.

The thought of revelry is met with a grin. "Yes! Revelry. Let us forget the past, let us revel." Then, she realizes it's not a present revel, but one for a future date. "I would be glad to go. Is there a specific meaning for the revelry, or is it for revelry in general?"


“Good!” Thor says when she agrees to call out if she needs aid, “I look after all people of honor and need whom would call out to me but,” voice lowering a bit as if this next part was a secret, “my allies especially.”

Then she asks what they are to celebrate. At her question Thor gives a deep joyous laugh head going backward as he leans against the chair, “Of course,” he replies coming to his feet once more.

“I have heard tell that Midgard doth possess a surplus of ale,” still gripping his can he brandishes it high into the air and then presses it to his lips where he drinks deeply for a long moment and then crumples it into a ball which he pitches towards the recycling-pile, “And so,” he comes forward eyes fixing upon hers as he bends to take the final can from the six pack, “we shall come together to assure that when we are done none shall be at risk of drowning in the excess.”

Mighty thumb cracks the can open, “It will take an army of revelers and it may take / days/ but when we all come together I believe that there is no challenge too great for our might.” Then he drinks heavily from the can.

He grins at that, “We shall honor each other and those who are unable to attend. A time to forget worry and embrace friends both new and old.”

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