Frigga (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cloudspinner) wrote2014-07-28 08:53 pm
cloudspinner) wrote2014-07-28 08:53 pm
[ Video | Action ] Thread .001
[Fólkvangr seemed to come with a real pain in the back, and this was certainly not a banquet hall. Even before she opens her eyes, Frigga knows she is at a beach. She can feel the sand, the heat, smell the salt in the air... and, goodness, when was the last time she'd worn this little in public? Not since she was a child in Vanir and she had taken to the forests in a fit of rebellion, surely.
Sitting up, she sees exactly what she expects save for one thing - a book, curiously bound, with her name on the cover. Well aware of the power of names and books, Frigga pauses to magically assess the book before touching it. She can tell it is a thing of some small power, but the exact nature of that power seems harmless if utterly foreign. Picking up the book, it doesn't take long for her to ascertain that it is a communication device of some sort.
Well. This was no way to make an impression, but since she was in a desert as far as the eye could see and not at all looking forward to a long journey on bare feet, she decides to see if there are any who might render her assistance before taking further steps. Automatically, she falls into very formal language.]
Greetings. It appears that the arrival of strangers to this place is a thing of no little commonality. I wonder if there is any means of transport from this ocean to a more populated place?
[And Aaaction for those inclined to less first-contact type threads!]
[As informative and helpful as her sons are, there are some things a woman wants to do for herself. Finding the proper garments is one of those things. As soon as her sons are willing to part with her, she makes her way into town. She borrowed shoes, cast an illusion over her dress to approximately casual Asgardian walking garb.
...this 'shop' was fascinating. For a woman who had her outfits tailored specifically to her for the past several thousand years, shopping fully made clothes was an unusual experience. A random passerby might see her shake her head and laugh quietly more than once.]
Sitting up, she sees exactly what she expects save for one thing - a book, curiously bound, with her name on the cover. Well aware of the power of names and books, Frigga pauses to magically assess the book before touching it. She can tell it is a thing of some small power, but the exact nature of that power seems harmless if utterly foreign. Picking up the book, it doesn't take long for her to ascertain that it is a communication device of some sort.
Well. This was no way to make an impression, but since she was in a desert as far as the eye could see and not at all looking forward to a long journey on bare feet, she decides to see if there are any who might render her assistance before taking further steps. Automatically, she falls into very formal language.]
Greetings. It appears that the arrival of strangers to this place is a thing of no little commonality. I wonder if there is any means of transport from this ocean to a more populated place?
[And Aaaction for those inclined to less first-contact type threads!]
[As informative and helpful as her sons are, there are some things a woman wants to do for herself. Finding the proper garments is one of those things. As soon as her sons are willing to part with her, she makes her way into town. She borrowed shoes, cast an illusion over her dress to approximately casual Asgardian walking garb.
...this 'shop' was fascinating. For a woman who had her outfits tailored specifically to her for the past several thousand years, shopping fully made clothes was an unusual experience. A random passerby might see her shake her head and laugh quietly more than once.]
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It is very strange. The world is unlike the one we know, entirely. They have their own magics and their own wars. I've yet to hear an answer I believe as to how we came to be here or why.
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[ Another line, another addition, and he sighs soundlessly. ]
Can you not make it say only what I write, brother?
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[He's not going to try to sugar coat it. There isn't really a way to do so, and why try to be coy about it.]
Death is not entirely permanent here. But neither is it pleasant.
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[ There was little more to say, truly. His eyes dip down, focused more upon the pages of the book he holds than his brother or his mother. ]
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There was a brief pause and her hands tighten on her sons. They seem real enough, as real as she herself seemed to be.]
Death would appear to be impermanent indeed.
[And in that moment, the reality of this situation opened itself to her completely - she was dead. She would never see her home again, never see Odin again... and her sons were here and together and, if not whole, then certainly alive now...
She would grieve later. She never thought she would have cause to mourn her own death. Being welcomed into the halls of her forefathers promised to be busy enough to keep her grief at bay, but now...
Goodbye is always too soon, my love.
Frigga swallowed and attempted to conceal what she felt from her children. Sons should not have to know their mother's griefs and burdens.]
Tell me, the temporal fluctuations... what else have they affected other than the measurement of time here?
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I was returned home, once. When I was first brought here, for a year and... three months, it was when Thor was about to deposit me in the dungeons. [There's still a definite bitter tone to that word. He's never letting that one go, ever.] Then I was returned to... I think the precise moment I was taken, and recalled none of this. Time proceeded apace in Asgard until...
[He can feel where Thor is thanks to the ward on him. He does his best to shoot his brother a look. Mother doesn't need to know he's dead. That would be cruel.
...and untrue. But Thor doesn't know that.] Until Thor had defeated the dark elves on Midgard. Then I was returned here. A week had passed in Luceti, if I recall correctly. And immediately upon my return, I remembered... everything.
Which was very confusing.
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[ Whatever came after that moment, that gleam of blue light that did not quite replicate the Bifrost's glow- he knew not. He knows only what his brother has told him and as much as he would wish to ask his mother from whence she came; there are some answers better left unsaid.
That Loki lived and lost their mother is one thing. There may yet be hope to prevent such a tragedy. But should Frigga come from a similar time... ]
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Thor defeated the dark elves on Midgard, then? Good. She was glad of it. There were many things that were not at all right with the universe, but to cast it into eternal darkness would have destroyed all of life and beauty except the unique loveliness of darkness. There was loveliness in the dark, and Frigga was well-aware of it. But life flourished in the light, and the darkness must make room for it. It had always been wrong, the thought that one must be accepted entirely over the other.
In a much less abstract way, she was viciously glad of Malekith's defeat. The coward. The creature.]
And what of Jane Foster? Was the aether removed before it overcame her?
[She does not fail to notice the faint hesitations. There was something her boys were not telling her. She was not sure now was the time to ferret it out. Better, perhaps, that they thought they succeeded.]
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[He decides not to mention his part in that for now, because that might open the question to what precisely he did in order to accomplish it. Better for now for mother to think he's still cooling his heels in the dungeon. Hopefully no one will disabuse her of that notion.]
Jane is here, as a matter of fact.
[Oh. He'd better write Jane a note about this.]
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[ Nor would he until he lived it- which would be; well he doesn't know. The when of such things is erratic at best. It happened without warning roughly around the same time the new feathers did appear, but that was the best sign of the passage of time he had. ]
Would you like to see her?
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[One does so hate to die in vain.
She shut her eyes for a moment.]
I would like to see her, but first I would like to hear how my sons have come to such a state of agreement. [A small smile. And she is not able to keep the emotion from her voice.] It is perhaps the most welcome thing I could hope to find.
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Nope nope nope.
He settles for the more sanitized version of events.]
A few good parties, and then we killed a giant owl. That seemed to do the trick.
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[ Was all that he had to add to that. There was more to it- but this was the simplest answer and on occasion, the simplest was the best. ]
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She pauses for a moment, her silence weighty.]
An owl.
[Another long pause. Yes. Surely, she believes that fighting an owl would make Thor, who had refused to see Loki for all the long term of his imprisonment, come to live in his house. Yes, an owl was so grave a threat that Loki would willingly fight by Thor's side and call him brother. Surely it must be a tremendous beast indeed.]
I see.
[If they are both in league against her, she is still fond enough of the notion that they are in league that she does not yet wish to have the secret out. She does not believe that they are concealing the matter for their own pleasure, but she is grieved to not be able to fully understand this reconciliation between her children.]
I would hear the details of this confrontation later then, my sons. Tell me more of your lives in this place. What do you do here?
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[At least not words he's willing to say in front of his mother.
The question causes him to shrug, though.]
Nothing of import. I run the stable, as my former housemate Gregor left that to me. [Oh Gregor, he still misses you. One of the few humans who really understood him in a way that might have been worrying if Gregor himself hadn't been so likable.] I have a few students who don't annoy me overly. And do what I can to stave off the utter boredom that fills the air of this tiny, uninteresting fishbowl.
[Well, he can't help but add one little dig:] Though I do now realize how much tinier and more uninteresting a prison can be. [Still not over it.]
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[ The less said on the matter, the better. He's not entirely proud of how that came to pass but there is nothing for it. No true harm was done and it has been resolved as far as he is aware.
As to what they do- oh. ]
I mind the Item shop with the Lady Rogue, train in the afternoons and survey the perimeter of the village in the mornings. When I've time I study Signed Language and Astrophysics to better understand the Lady Jane's work.
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As for Thor... he tended a shop? How... oddly domestic. But perhaps it was the company, he did mention at lady... and yet his regard for Jane seemed unhindered. Curious. There was more to latch onto here and question than Loki's statement, as of yet.]
What is this Signed Language of which you speak? And who is the Lady Rogue? It is a most curious name.
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Ah... Rogue is someone to whom you ought to be introduced, actually. I shall ask her to come by the house at her earliest convenience.
[He rises from the couch.]
I shall return momentarily.
[And heads off to the upstairs.]
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[ He sets the book down to demonstrate. He points to Frigga with a smile, tapping his chest with the flat of his hand twice before resting his thumb against his chin, hand spread. Once done he picks up the book to write.]
You are my mother. There are not signs for all words but context and intent can replace them, and shorthand saves time when you don't feel like spelling out a whole name. Jack, a friend, does not spell out Thor- [ He demonstrates with one hand. ] But rather uses the sign for thunder to greet me.
[ He demonstrates, making fists at chest height and shaking them outward briefly. ]