Who: Sif and Thor When: April 5, afternoon Where: Sif's boarding house Ratings/warnings: tbd
Sif was hardly one to be social over those troublesome journals. There were times when she was curious, but with all the crazies in this city she found that ignoring it was better than encouraging it by talking to them. That was why she simply left a note with the address to the boarding house. When she saw an opportunity to expand her income she wasn't slow to extend the offer of one of the open rooms. Right now there were a few left open and she intended to fill them. And they did tend to go fast. If that man was too slow to rent one then she mentally wished him luck.
Even now, after years of running the house she still met some interesting people. Crazy, but interesting. She dismissed it as something in the water (jokingly) or perhaps there was a cult of people who pretended to be gods when that simply wasn't possible.
"Morons," she said quietly to herself.
Right now she busied herself in the kitchen with preparations for that nights dinner. She may not be overly social with her tenants but she had a good reputation. Some she liked more than others. Some she looked for reasons to kick out but hardly ever found good enough reason. She heard the sound of a bell and then voices as one of the tenants let the door open for the newcomer.
He walked in like one would expect from the god of thunder. Strong, brute, as if the ground itself could tremble at his feet. His facial expression was calm, eyes dark almost a flicker of red sparking from the light. His hair a dirty blond, as it had darkened over time though now days mortals associated him with long blond hair.
His structure was almost like that of steel, he could even be the modern superman, but there was a boyish quality to that face. Thor moved past the resident who shimmied his way out as fast as he could.
He saw the blond there before him, felt that immortal surge and knew almost as instantly as he'd seen her face who she was. He'd lost track of Sif over the centuries, as their stories altered so did their closeness. Just like his belt, his hammer, and gauntlants, Sif was a part of him that no longer adorned his person. It was a part that was invisible to the rest of the world, but physically still a part of him.
"You left your address," he stated holding out the sheet of paper he'd scribbled the information out on.
As quickly as those strange feelings, or whatever you want to call them, overcame Sif she felt annoyed. It was another of those crazies, she just knew it. There was already one living in the house, how could she handle another? At least the other one never mentioned who she thought she was. Andrea (Andromache) had some sense at least. Sif had to give her that much.
She merely glanced back as she washed her hands. Her eyes fell to the paper as she turned fully, glancing at the address.
"Smashed finger, right?" Her tone wasn't conversational in the least. It was her making sure she knew exactly who she was talking to.
"Three rooms are available right now. Only one has a private bathroom. Do you want to see all three?" She appeared not to have any idea who he was, though there was a little tickle that said she knew this man and she hated that.
"Contractor. It happens," he said with a shrug. "I don't even feel it," though his finger was wrapped tightly and splinted. It was enough of a slice and bruising that had he pulled the bandaging back would make most women squeamish.
He nodded motioning for her to take the lead. "Deirk Thorsen," he gave her the un-injured hand, emphasis on his last name as it was little more than subtle.
She nodded, though personally had no interest in what had happened. And just like most women she would have preferred not to see such an injury. (Had she been the usual Sif and not the woman who had forgotten who she was, she would have been concerned.)
"Demi Engel," she said, politely shaking his offered hand. Sif, the goddess, was an earth goddess and even now she didn't realize that Demi meant earth mother. Perhaps there was still a part of Sif in there trying to get out. She lead him out of the kitchen and to the first room. It was small and unique like the other rooms. None were exactly the same and had their little secrets that even she didn't know about. "Like all the other rooms, this one is fully furnished. It's $75 a day, $300 deposit." She let him take the time to examine the room.
He eyed her carefully pausing in his step as if to examine her. There was something very familiar and yet a giant road block between the two of them as if she didn't understand.
"Beautiful name. Do you know what it means?" He wasn't even being casual about this, and in any moment he would ask her what her real name was. He kept his large hand clasped on hers until she drew it back continuing to talk about the rooms. He wasn't really interested about that.
She ignored any examination. It's what they seemed to do anytime she ran into one of them. It was unnerving but in this city you had to hold your own and hide any trace of uncertainty. Even if she had no idea who she really was she was still very much herself for the most part.
At that she paused in bewilderment. "No," she said shaking her head. She turned to retreat to the next room which was on the next floor. She was starting to wonder if a bodyguard would be a good investment.
His face stayed very stoic even though there was some frustration building at how cool she was being. Could this so long and absent of the other have confused the girl?
"Earth Mother," maybe that would give her a jolt. He followed upstairs hoping to see a jog in her memory.
Being gone so long from who she really was was what had changed her. It was what had made her forget who she was and where she was from. There were sometimes strange visions (memories) that crept up and she could never explain, and would never confide in anyone about them. They were private and thereby no one needed to know.
"Huh, that's a nice meaning. You must really know your names." Though there was a scene rising in her head she made no sign or mention of it. It was just imagination. Nothing more. They came to the next room and she unlocked the door. "This is the room with the private bath. $80 a day, and all rooms have the $300 deposit. The other room is right next door." She moved to unlock the other in order to let him look around.
"I know all forms of your name," he paused standing in the doorway as she ran through the motions of explaining one room after the other. His arm moved out and made a barricade as his hand clasped the door frame so she still stood in front of him inside the room.
Now an alarm was going off inside her head. She backed away a few steps, now with her guard fully up. At the use of the name Sif she didn't seem at all disturbed or to have suddenly remember who she was.
"I don't know what sort of game you're playing here, but I'm not one of those crazy-ass morons who runs around calling themselves gods. I think you should leave."
His brows knitted tightly, refusing to move or let her out.
"Does the name Thor mean nothing to you? What's wrong with you?" So she had met others. Why was she denying it?
She was clearly offended by his words, "I know exactly who Thor is. He's fictional. Fictional. Not. Real." She was ready to slap this guy for being so offensive. "There is nothing wrong with me, but you might want to tell your 'god buddies' to leave me the hell alone." At the words god buddies she had used finger quotations. At this point she was clearly annoyed.
"No he's not. He is your husband." His lip moved ever so slightly disturbed. This was was going to be a challenge. "Sif," he stepped back into the room, tall in comparison to her, he always was giant-like. "I'm your husband." He reached out to grab her hand.
Well that only pushed her overboard. "DEVON! ANDREW! MR. HOLLIS!" Now she was really freaked out and when he tried to touch her she jerked her hand back. "Don't touch me. I suggest you leave before the guys either kick you out or I call the police." Just then the three men she'd yelled for came running into the hallway beyond the door. They were average mortal men but they had been a lot of help in the past, particularly with giving crazies the boot.
"What is wrong with you? Don't you remember anything?" Her hair was long now again, not unlike the time Loki sheared it off as some practical joke.
"Your hair, remember it being cut," how angry he'd been and how he'd near ripped Loki's hair out for the joke gone wrong. Sif had cried that day.
His hand curled into a fist as the men approached as if they could really stand anything in comparison to this big guy. When they put their hands around his arms he shook them off as if they were nothing more than a feather.
"There is nothing wrong with me," she said through gritted teeth. This guy was really persistent.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, I never cut my hair." Now that she thought of it she couldn't remember ever having to cut, or even trim her hair. People always commented on how lovely it was. How it shone and almost seemed like gold.
It was true. They were no match for him and she gave them the signal to hold off. As calmly as possible she spoke again, "It's time you left. We want no trouble."
"You never cut it, but someone else did." He was agitated now, and the other guys stepped back feeling something strange radiating in that room.
Thor didn't want to leave, but seeing Sif distressed made him uneasy. As if he was unwelcome.
"Did you see his eyes?" Devon whispered to the others. It was as if they were shining red, which was impossible. He stepped over to Demi asking her the same question. "It's like we were nothing more than a leaf against him. Is that natural?"
With her arms crossed defensively she stood with the men who had come in. They now knew better than to make any moves. She shook her head at the questions, though unsure what answer she could give. It wasn't natural, but what could she possibly say
He wasn't about to apologize, he'd done nothing wrong nor was he some scolded child.
"I'll get this one," he said standing in front of the doorway, knocking his fist against the frame before giving her a rather childlike smile. This would be a tough barrier to get through, but when did Thor knock down a challenge?
Sif, or Demi would have disagreed had this all been spoken aloud. It would have only led to more arguing and a very irritated Demi.
There was something about that smile that made her feel calm. She couldn't explain it and she didn't want to explain it. Or admit what she was feeling. Instead she nodded and stepped toward the door, "I'll get the paperwork."
She may have coldly walked towards the door, where he turned sideways to let her pass by but he felt that shift in her demeanor, however small it was. He continued to give her that smile as he walked back down the steps behind her to file paperwork.
"Just signatures right?" he said playfully, hoping she'd save him from the headache of having to know exactly what all those forms said.
"And $380," she corrected him. "You're not getting the room without paying for it." Whatever she was, she was always tough in her own way. There may have been times in her life that she was weak but overall she was strong.
The office was small, connecting to her own private room. There she took out the papers needed, put them in order and sat behind the desk. She was filling out information and after only about a minute she handed them over. "I need you to read and sign these. There's not a lot to read, just the usual. I'll also have you know I don't take too kindly to your group, the ones who like to screw with peoples heads and claim to be gods, so anymore mentions of this and I'm going to have to report you to a psych ward." There was nothing but seriousness in her tone. "If you're curious, there is one other who seems to think they're some woman from the Illiad on the second floor. You'd do well to take her lead and not bother me with these silly fantasies."
"My group?" he said pulling out his wallet and a few hundred dollar bills and twenties and giving her in cash the money she'd required before stuffing the wallet back into his pocket.
He picked up one of her pens after settling down in the chair in front of her desk. He held the pen in his left hand, the same hand he'd used to throw that hammer around, as it would boomerang back, never missing a beat. There was still a mark against his skin that almost looked as if it were rubbed raw from the strength he'd used to grip the old wooden base from centuries of releasing and tightening it again and again.
He signed his name on the pages as quickly as she'd handed them to him, skimming through and taking in only the important words.
She didn't answer. She had explained exactly what she meant and he was starting to tire her.
Blinking, she saw that mark and another image rose and fell in her minds eye. For a moment she stood staring at that hand as though it held secrets she had been longing to know. It was strange and yet she couldn't explain why. But then she came out of her trance and watched as he signed the papers.
"Depending on how long you stay depends on when rent is due. How long were you needing the room?"
He clicked the pen once he'd finished signing, hand down on the papers and sliding them towards her. On the top of that same hand was the hammer symbol as if branded onto his skin, things which had appeared once he grew into this modern life.
He caught her eyes at that moment giving her that child-like smile.
As long as it takes. Inwardly he asked her what she was thinking, but with how she was now he doubted she could even sense it.
"A while," he said resting back into the chair, hands gripping the arms of it.
She sorted through the papers, nodding at the agreement as she scanned the pages to make sure she hadn't missed anything.
"In that case we'll go with monthly payments. The house provides all meals to those who want it, but you'll be stuck doing your own laundry," she said with an air of finality. She stood to file the papers and to retrieve the second key for his room, pushing it toward him on the table. At this point she was trying to be both distant and polite. "Now if you'll excuse me I have some things to finish up before dinner." She was trying to politely usher him out of the office so she could lock it.
He took hold of the key standing as she did. He gave a long hard glance even as she continued on her way as if he'd never told her who he was. He'd told mortals before, the reaction in itself quite similar.
He wondered how long this would take to jog her memory, but rest assured this wasn't the last she'd see of him or his tales. He nodded at her, that blazing red flashing against his eyes as he met hers before walking out the door.
"I eat a lot," he assured her. His appetite was bigger than that of even an average large man. He could put away food and drink and hardly feel full after the third (or fifth) course. "So, maybe I can take you out to dinner next week." He was hopeful, there were a lot of things she could deny, but inevitably she'd wake up from this coma that the Sif was clawing at. He could sense it.
Indeed she might have been mortal had she not radiated that energy that other immortals did. Outwardly she would deny feeling anything, inwardly she would wonder if she was a nut job just like them.
"You and everyone here. Just don't eat all the food or I'll have an uprising on my hands." It was an attempt at friendliness and humor. She could be nice, as long as you didn't cross her. She was beginning to wonder if all of this absurd behavior was for a chance to get into her pants. Not that that happened very often, seeing as she was distant and kept to herself apart from the house affairs. People could come and go as they pleased, so long as strange men and women weren't filtering in and out. This house had rules and she intended to make sure everyone abides by them.
It took a moment for her to finish locking the door as she thought about this sudden change of topic. She had seen her fair share of weirdos and if someone was going to say anything just take her out she wasn't sure if it was for her. She turned and shook her head, "No. I'm very busy and I don't go out with tenants."
"I can't promise you that," he said with a laugh, because he was hardly joking. "My grocery bill is a months worth for the week." He laughed again but followed her again out of the office.
"Come on, I'm not officially a tenant until I move in. How about tomorrow night." He was determined.
She smirked at that. "In any case, all tenants are welcome to meals and they aren't subject to only those. You can buy your own food if you like."
Jaw clenched she locked the door. "Persistent." She wasn't entirely annoyed and it was somewhat amusing. "According to those papers you are. It's a personal rule. I don't get involved and there isn't any bad blood. So no, it's out of the question. You may come and go as you please now." She started toward the kitchen.
She was a Norse goddess, of course she was stubborn. She let him down politely enough but there was a sternness within it. He gave her a small quirk of a smile. "Are you always this defiant when someone asks you out?" he ran a hand behind his head with a sigh.
"Yes," she said, not stopping on her way to the kitchen. She no longer wanted to discuss this and she was tired of his insistence.
Exasperated he leaned against the kitchen doorway. "Fine," he said softly under his breath. "But don't think I won't try again." He pointed a finger at her in a playful reprimand. She'd remember, she had to.
Before she could turn around to protest he'd already left. He'd give her a little time, he'd learned about patience over time, it just made him antsy with the anticipation.