Who: Loki and Thor What: Cleanliness is next to Godliness? When: This afternoon Rating: Oh so very green
Living with others was a lot less convenient when there were no servants available to help. Everyone that had called to fill his request on Craig's list were lying about their credentials, and it was too much of a temptation for him to mock them over it. The mess was becoming unbearable. Loki was absolutely unaccustomed to not having servants around, after a royal lifetime of them being at their beck and call.
While he was actually good at cooking and secretly enjoyed doing so, he loathed cleaning with the same sort of loathing he had for facing extremely large green beasts that were unable to control their anger. Especially toward him.
That was why Loki was alternating between staring at the sink, which was piled high with dishes and coffee cups, and the countertops, where there were quite a few Poptart and cereal crumbs laying around. At least one crumpled up wrapper didn't make it into the rubbish bin. Valkyrie had the excuse of living on a planet that was one giant garbage heap, but Loki didn't think Thor's gallivanting about the realms hitting things with Mjolnir meant he was exempt from cleanliness.
Wait. Did someone drink out of the milk container? There were crusty white dribbles on the floor, right in front of the cold box they kept their perishable foods in. Who does that sort of thing? And to think, someone else probably poured it into their bowl of cereal made of charms meant to impart luck. That was vile.
This was no place to invite guests into. It looked like a barbarian horde had plundered a village and forgot to set things on fire, afterward.
"THOR," he said, loudly, but without yelling his head off, "I am not cleaning this on my own."
Thor was truly fed up with the incessant whining about cleanliness. He knew that Loki was being excessively particular, but when Darcy Lewis seemed to take her brother’s side in the discussion, Thor found that he felt quite ganged up on. Had he not said that he would assist with the cleaning? He knew that he needed to rein in his anger at being questioned so repeatedly over the same topic, so he did the only thing he could do. He stopped speaking about it.
He had been trying to learn more about Midgardian ways on the top of your lap machine. When he searched on the Google, he located many instructional films for all manner of task. He had watched the one about the cleaning of dishes, and it seemed extremely simple. Yes, they probably should have been cleaning them as they became dirty rather than let them accumulate, but that didn’t mean they were unable to catch up now.
He rolled up his shirtsleeves as he entered the kitchen, prepared for battle. “Have we soap for this purpose, brother?” he asked, relegating various discarded packages to the trash container.
Truth be told, Loki was surprised at Darcy putting her foot down in such a feisty manner, and at a loss on how to react to it or make things better between the two. He quite liked Darcy, and he didn't want to lose his brother's good graces or the vow to speak on his behalf if need be. Yet being nitpicky in such matters was proving to be a hindrance. In the grandest of ironies, it was up to him to create some semblance of peace in their household, or things might become so chaotic that he wouldn't be able to plot everything out so thoroughly. In short, Loki was sure they were all doomed even more than before.
That was why he had been staring at everything like he was utterly lost with where they should start first.
"For bathing?" he asked Thor, then pointed toward the bathroom.
Thor scowled darkly. “For the dishes. Is that not where we are beginning? Or would you prefer I start by scrubbing the toilet, your majesty?” he growled. He stepped closer to the sink and started stacking the dirtied dishes by size so that they would take up less space. He located the dish soap bottle and the sponge. Someone had clearly used the sink for cleaning before, as the equipment was all in order. “Why don’t you find a towel with which to dry them, and as I clean each thing you can dry it and return it to its intended cabinet,” he said, hoping that sounded decisive enough.
Loki made a face like that was a profoundly unsavory thought. He had already considered simply buying another container of the bleach and pouring it all over the toilet instead.
"Oh. I know not. This is why I am trying to find a suitable maid," he pointed out. Because they weren't called servants anymore. He knows stuff too, see?
Loki cautiously drew closer and looked over Thor's shoulder, in much the same manner he would give his brother flying instructions.
"Ah. Very well. A towel." He began opening drawers until he found one that seemed suitable for such a task and held it out, pinched between his thumb and index finger. It seemed Thor got the dirtier of the two parts of this, and so he was smiling happily that he got the cleaner half. "This does not seem so bad."
With any luck, those were not famous last words.
Thor turned on the water and ran it as hot as he could tolerate over his hands. He put several dishes into the sink so that they would be moistened, then doused the sponge with soap. “I do not see how this could be so difficult,” he said, scrubbing congealed marshmallow cereal pieces off of a small bowl. It was more difficult than it looked, so he applied more pressure and…
The bowl snapped in half. He rinsed off both pieces and handed them to his brother. “If you have magic to mend it, be my guest. Else put it in the trash and let us not speak of it to Darcy,” he said, frowning. He was not attempting to break the dish. Simply clean it. How could the dirt be more sturdy than the dish?
Loki held each half in either hand, shrugged, and then began drying them off. After he placed the two pieces close together on the counter and waved one hand to cast a mending spell, but the pieces went clunk and landed back too far apart for the spell to affix them together again. He huffed out a frustrated exhale, and then lobbed the two halves at the rubbish bin nearby.
"I saw nothing," he said, clearing his throat and then nodding to Thor to continue. "It was very clean, even if in two pieces. Try another."
Thor scowled a little, scanning Loki’s face for sarcasm. Finding none, he said, “Thank you, brother.” He set to work on a second bowl. As it had been sitting under the running hot water for longer, it was far easier to scrub. He managed to clean it and rinse it, then handed it off to Loki with a flourish. “I told you this would not be difficult.”
Not a trace of it. After all, he hadn't even had the patience to mend a bowl right now. As much as he might try to seem like he was above it all, he was in uncharted territory.
"I am beside myself with surprise." Loki seemed pleasantly surprised. He took the bowl and began drying it, then went to put it in its rightful place. If he could find it. There didn't seem to be any bowls left to mark where they once were. "Hm."
He placed it in the cupboard next to a couple of boxes of lucky cereal and fruity rabbit kibble. Because that made the most sense. Two things in one place.
"No, this is not difficult at all. I think we have mastered this. A maid would be a wasted expense."
Thor could see that Loki had no idea where things went. “Have you not used any of these dishes? The bowls go in the cabinet beside the plates.” He nodded towards it, as his hands were already employed in washing another. He rinsed it and placed it in the rack beside the sink while he waited for Loki to find the cabinet in question. Thor might not have cleaned anything, but he had plenty of experience on where to locate the things that he had subsequently dirtied.
He was feeling more confident by the moment, as he stacked two more clean, wet bowls in the rack.
"I have. Does it not make more sense for them to be near the charms of luck?" He fwipped the towel in the direction of that cabinet, and then flapped it toward Thor. "No one is in a mood to wander farther than they need in the mornings, so I am making things easier for us all. Mind your own task and I will mind mine."
This kitchen will be chaos.
Loki went to work drying the dishes and separating the bowls into one spot where bowls now lived, and the plates in the place where they have always been....where he can reach them easily while cooking, or throw them at anyone who is irritating him, also while cooking.
Thor chose to let someone else fight the battle for bowl placement. As long as he knew where to find them, he was satisfied. He stacked each clean dish in the rack, and Loki retrieved them from there to dry them and put them back where they belonged.
He soon learned that the plates were the easy part. Each fork and spoon and knife had to be cleaned individually, but at least they could be scrubbed vigorously without breaking. A spoon or two might have a slightly more extreme arch in their handle than before, but mostly they fared well enough. At long last, however, were the pots and pans.
“What… was cooked upon this surface?” he asked, holding up a flat, round pan with an uneven layer of some substance that had been all but transformed into solid carbon. He looked at his sponge doubtfully. “I think I might need to ask the Google for help with this one.”
"I think that was the glaze for the hen I cooked or....was that...what is that?" Loki leaned in and squinted at it. Then he sniffed it. "I never burn anything. That must be Valkyrie's doing, for surely it is not mine."
Maybe. Unless it was the red wine reduction, of which he had put some wine in the pan, and then drank the rest of the bottle while it simmered down. But he wasn't going to go volunteering that information. He was on drying and sorting duty.
A grinning Loki began to put the dried silverware away one by one, by opening the drawer, standing far back, and aiming so he could throw them into the right slots. He didn't miss.
"Why do you not apply the same pressure you used on the bowl?" he suggested, while throwing a spoon. "I have little doubt that you can conquer some stubborn grit."
It was true that the metal things were sturdier than the non-metal things. And the pan was surely thicker than the knives and forks. He would rather be done with the task than stop to watch more films and then return to it, so Thor did as his brother suggested. Balancing the pan against the edge of the sink and holding firmly upon the handle, he started scrubbing it with a vengeance. The carbonized remains of… something… were starting to flake off, and he pressed the sponge all the harder. It was not easy, so he wanted it over and done with all haste.
Which is probably why the entire pan developed a crease down the center as Thor applied pressure. By the time he noticed the metal starting to warp, it already resembled something more like an inverted taco shell than a frying pan. His stomach growled as he thought of tacos, and decided that he would purchase some of them after he found an establishment that sold… frying pans.
"How goes the battle, brother?" Loki asked in a light and conversational manner, as he rested the last gleamingly clean knife against a magnetic strip on the wall.
He drew closer to check on Thor's progress and was left staring at the inverted taco pan with a blank expression, which quickly turned into an unwavering stare of 'Oh no you didn't' right at the side of his brother's head. With absolutely no sarcasm at all (meaning a fair bit of it), he cheerfully announced, "Well done. I see you've defeated it."
And now he wanted tacos, too. Everyone likes tacos. Even Loki had found he liked them, though he preferred his tacos from upscale type restaurants that served overpriced tacos. The kind that came with all sorts of exotic meat or fish fillings. The sort that had little radishes carved like blossoming roses that no one ever bothered to eat, artistically nestled against the overpriced tacos.
Thor rolled his eye at Loki. “Thank you for the words of encouragement, brother.” He handed Loki the irreparably warped pan. “Hide the evidence. I shall purchase a replacement. Actually, since you are the one who takes joy in cooking, you should purchase one to your liking. Hopefully one heartier than this.”
Thor didn’t care about the money. He was sure if they required more funds, he could find a way to get them. In fact, he supposed he ought to turn his attention to that.
Left standing there holding a hopelessly bent pan by the handle, his brother looked visibly affronted. Did Thor insinuate that his cookware was cheap? He was sorely tempted to clunk that pan against the current King of Asgard's thick skull. After drawing in a deep breath and reminding himself that mother would have given him The Look, he managed to refrain.
"I'll have you know that this cost quite a bit of Midgardian coin. Where do you I suggest I hide it, when everyone rummages through here like a pack of Bilgesnipes on a rampage? I'm not hiding it with my things, that is for certain."
Loki didn't want to clutter up everything he kept in his magical storage vault, especially not with bent taco pans. He considered using magic to idly toss it aside elsewhere, but if he did it without a care and it randomly fell on someone's head, then it might be on the news and Thor would blame him for doing it on purpose. It might be best to save that for later when he could concentrate on sending it somewhere more specific. Such as leaving it in a rival sorcerer's kitchen.
He began looking around for hiding places, and finally settled on an odd lower cabinet that opened the wrong way from all of the other doors, which had plastic racks and spinny things inside. It had nothing in it, anyway, so now it had some use. He closed the door and folded both arms over his chest while giving Thor a sly, knowing smile.
"You are making me purchase it because you still have no coin to your name. Have you come up with a better..." He stopped short of saying scheme. "...idea than what I once suggested to you?"
Thor started scrubbing another pan, although with much less vigor than the last. Luckily the dirt was less hardened. “Why has Stark not invented a machine that will handle such menial tasks?” he muttered as he rinsed the pan and put it in the rack. “No, I have not come up with another idea,” he said, emphasizing the word in mimicry of his brother. “I still have some of the money Stark handed out. I shall find employment that does not involve flaunting myself to strangers.”
At long last he found himself cleaning out the very last coffee mug. He rinsed it and put it in the rack, then turned off the water and turned to face Loki with a triumphant look upon his face. “There! Complete with minimal casualties!”
Loki had been tempted to ask Thor why he would not ask the obnoxious armored man to make such a machine, but he was too busy glaring over being mocked. He let out a sigh and rolled his eyes, then came over to give his brother a pat on the back like he was very glad that he had accomplished such a feat with only two broken items to show for it.
"It was a grand plan, for, sadly, I will not be able to support us all. If we do not desire such menial tasks every single night, we need a servant...rather, a maid," he corrected himself, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the kitchen. "While it now looks more presentable to have revelries with your friends, we will eventually need more spacious accommodations."
Thor did not think that the living quarters were that small. Midgardians did not live in great palaces like they were used to back home, but what need did that have of such things? When they were able to establish New Asgard, and bring all of their people home, they could have any sort of homes they might wish for.
But he well knew that Loki was both particular and impatient. That was partly why Thor had volunteered for the dishwashing duty. To cease his brother’s incessant complaining, and keep the peace. He looked it as practicing his diplomatic skills.
“I shall find some way to make money, brother. Perhaps there is some sort of gladiatorial contest like on Sakaar.” He wouldn’t need to fight the Hulk, obviously, but even at that, he’d nearly beat him. Perhaps he could interest the Valkyrie in sparring with him. “It’s not as if we are in danger of ending up homeless or starving to death.”