10685/You Lost Who Again

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You Lost Who Again
Date of Scene: 09 January 2020
Location: Den and Study, Avengers Mansio
Synopsis: Sif offers the MOST TRUSTWORTHY HELP IN THE WORLD to Janet on her quest for missing Avengers: Loki!
Cast of Characters: Wasp (van Dyne), Sif, Loki
Tinyplot: Surviving Infinity


Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
The Avengers have had a busy and frantic few days looking for their missing allies. Reservists and allies aroudn the world (and beyond!) have been contacted or called in. Their people are using significant magical and temporal powers to try and locate their missing allies by any means available.

So far, it's borne no fruit.

Which means Janet's going on days surviving on caffeine and pills, eating next to nothing except what people force in front of her during the rare minutes she's in the company of other people. The pugnacious, petite Wasp has become even more insufferable as the days stretch on with no sign or new information. For the most part everyone is avoiding her by dint of sending frequent text messages with status updates. Even her assistant is finding increasingly dubious reasons to be too busy to run errands for her or be the victim of Janet's blistering temper.

Another call to another ally ends and Janet sits back in the heavy desk chair in the Den, temporarily converted into her personal office. The Crisis Room is nearby, but she's at least cogent enough to know that a good leader doesn't lurk around looking over subordinate's shoulders.

The chairs' too big for her. Big enough that she almost disappears in it. Her sleek black leotard leaves on her her hands and head exposed, which adds to the illusion that she's shrinking into the leathery abyss. Janet hooks the soles of her shoes onto the edge of the chair and hugs her knees to her chest. For a moment she indulges her fatigue by rubbing the heels of her palms against her brow and cheekbones-- can't risk smudging the mascara, after all.

Sif has posed:
Word reaches far and fast as it should when people go missing. It might have been one of the reaching attempts for information or maybe a side comment during a conversation, but either way, JARVIS will report the sudden impress of a beautifully-scrolling burn of Nordic patterning on the back lawn of the Mansion's sprawling green. Ooops.

The Vanir Princess, Sif, walks with calm poise and purpose towards the sliding glass doors and admits herself after politely greeting the Mansion's AI. She offers to wing identification up to whomever is present and no doubt the AI tells Janet before the Aesir warrior even sets booted foot to the grand staircase.

She's a novel sight at the door to the Den in her red and silver armor, cape comfortably tucked beneath epaulets, and sword at her hip as it should be. Sif's hair is bound into a long braid down the middle of her back. On her face, courtly politesse and...oh, a touch of pity and understanding. She knows loss well.

"I believe I address the Lady Van Dyne?" asks she into the relative stillness of the Den itself, her voice sweet in its alto range.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Not since about 1640," Janet responds quite dryly. "We're Americans. We don't do the whole 'nobility' thing here."
% She takes a few more seconds to finish rubbing her brow and looks up at Sif. She doesn't look surprised to see the Vanir; either JARVIS did give her a heads up, or she's just too tired to play to the normal games of social courtesy.

"It's Princess Sif, isn't it? Welcome to New York. Can I get you a drink? All I've got is Adderall, Monster, and White Claw. I call it SuperJuice."

She at least moves back to a proper seating position, though she's obligated to let one foot dangle four inches off the carpet and she sits on the other one to boost her height a little bit. Addressing someone as tall as the Asgardians run isn't a novel experience, but it does force her to sit upright and crane her neck more than is totally comfortable.

"What can I do for you, Princess? We're in a bit of a crisis here, as you might know."

Sif has posed:
The barest hint of an approving smile tests the courtly set of Sif's features. This one has spine and alomb even under duress. Excellent. Taking the offering of drinks as invitation to enter the Den, she does so and her armor remains eerily still on her body despite natural shifts of limbs. Her idle scan of the room itself to mark the technologies available for use ends with her attention returning back to Janet.

"Yes, I am the Princess Sif, but please, Lady Sif while we speak. I visit precisely due to your reason of crisis. Word has reached me that you are missing more than a few members of your Avengers team. I would offer my assistance in matters. I am able to travel far within the branches of the World Tree and while I am not all-seeing, I know of many beyond the reach of Midgard itself who could be convinced to render aid as well. Know you of the Guardians of the Galaxy?" She gives the collection of canned drinks a thoughtful glance. "And thank you, but I will demur on a drink for now, Miss Van Dyne."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Suit yourself." Janet pops two pills and washes them down with a sip from the bottle at her elbow.

"I know the Guardians. By reputation, anyway. It's the Star-Prince, his pet monkey, and that bald guy who doesn't get jokes," she hazards. "And some blue dude? I don't know. They don't make it to our side of space very often."

She drums fingernails on the desk, eying Sif judiciously. "You're Thor's... Shield-girl, right? His friend? I'd like to know if Asgard's willing to commit some major resources to this search-and-rescue. The Avengers have done a lot of service for your city over the years," she says, with a shrewd tone. "This might help even out some of the balance of that social contract. It's what friends do, right? Help each other."

Sif has posed:
"Shield-Maiden," Sif corrects in a gentle if brusque manner, though not enough so to interrupt Janet. Her dark brows meet briefly as she gives the wee Wasp an equally considering look right back. The fashionista might drum nails, but the Aesir warrior moves her palm to rest on the pommel of her enchanted long-sword as she shifts weight to a readied stance more comfortable than stiff propriety.

Evenly, she replies, "You need not play coy with me, Miss Van Dyne. I am aware that you count Captain Rogers as your partner and, as such, it is not only necessity of Migardian safety but of the heart that he be returned. Asgard, as you know, is willing to offer aid. I have received word that Thor himself is working at finding your lost Avengers. I can offer other avenues of assistance as well. I ask that you trust me in this, Miss Van Dyne."

The Princess lifts up her other half-gloved hand off of her hip and glances off to one side almost modestly but for the gleam in her ice-blue eyes. "My Lord Loki, if you will attend upon us?" she asks respectfully.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet's cheekbones darken a bit at Sif's implication that she's concerned solely about Steve. The fingers drum once last and fall quite flat against the hardwood of the desk.

Then Sif's invoking a certain name, one that doesn't exactly have the best track record among the Avengers. Certainly not someone Janet would ever expect Sif to hang around with.

"Woah, wait wait, you can't bring him here--" she splutters, and starts pushing back from the desk. "JARVIS! Scan for intruders, is Loki of Asgard in the building?!" she demands of the AI in a querulous tone.

Loki has posed:
Too late.

A curl of maddeningly spinning black energy plumes out from Sif's back like two unfurling wings of graceful demonic power. The swirls fade at the edges out into greens and then transparency, as the Prince of Asgard makes an appearance out of it. It's loosely near to the air that Sif spoke to.

"A request to the heart of the Avengers' base? How could I say no," Loki asks slyly, ponderously looking at the room as if in mild distain for their decorator's choices. Walnut finish? Really?

Loki is, in fact, only illusion, though everything will look impeccably real: his modern looking black suit, hair black neatly sleek in a half ponytail that turns into a neatly woven braid at his crown, he'd be comfortable in a board room ---or a Matrix movie. Take the red pill, reveal an unpleasant and cruel truth, or stay in blissful ignorance.

Sif has posed:
Sif's hand uplifted towards the slinkity swirling arrival of the Asgardian mage slowly closes as it returns to hang beside her hip. She eyes Janet with a patient wariness now -- whoops, that engendered more of a defensive response than she had originally hazarded. The tone in Loki's voice, normal as it might be for the man, earns him a side-glance full of quiet warning.

"Yes, my Lord Loki, an invitation based in trust on my own judgment in matters," she explains to the darkly-clad illusionist. In one fell sentiment, the responsibility for his actions is on Sif's shoulders.

Both hands now rise, palms down, as she glances towards Janet. It's a silent gesture of soothing. "Miss Van Dyne and I were discussing Asgard proferring further assistance in the matter of missing Avengers. It seems a handful befell unknown fates through collapsing portals, if memory serves me correctly." Her eyebrows rise promptingly towards the fashionista.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"<I am only detecting yourself and Lady Sif in the Den, miss van Dyne,>" JARVIS assures the fasihonista. "<But there is an energy output roughly equivalent to a holographic display present and it superficially resembles Loki of Asgard. Shall I put the red alert out?>"

"Stand by on that, JARVIS," Janet bids the AI. "For now. But maybe make sure we've got a line of communication open to Thor. Just in case."

She's on her feet already, and rests her knuckles against the desktop while she leans over it. Janet makes eye contact with Loki's avatar. "Lady Sif's vouching for you. That's the only thing buying you the *slightest* bit of credibility here," she advises Loki. Despite the significant eldritch and physical might of the two Asgardians, Janet doesn't look the least bit cowed or intimidated. "I'm in a shit mood and I don't have time for games or wordplay. If you start any drama with me, I will crawl in your left ear and out your /right/. Si comprende, pendejo?"

With that she drops back into the chair with a huff and folds her arms across the lightweight gold armor segmenting her torso. "So where are they? And how can you help us find them?"

Loki has posed:
"Lady Sif," Loki greets ploddingly, when it's clear that there's a lot of 'totally unrealistic' overreaction to his illusory arrival. He draws one hand near Sif's gauntlet, an overly familiar brush of illusory hand there. Perhaps just to see if Janet loses it: or perhaps to see what Sif does, if she shakes him away in this particular situation, or not. A lot rides on Loki's treatment.

And the treatment isn't going well. "Does the tactic of immediately insulting someone that knows information you're after //usually// work for you?" Loki asks Janet smoothly, with a dignified, roll of one shoulder, dark gemstone eyes flicking to her with a cut like a diamond.

"Sounds like the drama is starting from your end, with your threat to injure my poor illusion. I'll give you a bone, though, as despite your 'shit mood', mine is one of /generosity/. I was curious about who took your Avengers, so I looked into it."

Sif has posed:
Sif's eyebrows break neutral formation. They lift the slighest and, again, in approval. That is some serious spunk. She does give Loki a glance as invective spews in his direction. Without much thought, the Princess visibly turns her palm up as if to receive the mage's fingers threading through her own; the brush of magic tingles like wintermint in passing on her skin.

Rather than watch Janet, the Aesir warrior continues to let her attention rest on Loki himself. "And what did you find, Loki, that could be of aid to Miss Van Dyne and her erstwhile companions?" asks Sif, again with some undertone of prompt, as if she might steer the situation back into less choppy waters. "I too will find benefit in this knowledge. I mean to reach out to other space-faring groups to aid in their search."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Okay, point of order." Janet's palms lift to shoulder height to interject after Sif's question. "First, yes, I insult pretty much everyone on the SHIELD 'Must Detain' list. Second, don't tell me you're going to *give* me a bone." Her hands drop to the desk again. "You can *throw* me a bone, but the only boning anyone's doing to me is my boyfriend. Who is very much missing, and who I'd very much like to have back," she informs Loki.

She gestures gratefully at Sif for moving the dialogue along more productive lines and reassumes a straight-backed posture in her chair. "Now that we're all on the same page, let's focus on moving forward constructively." A smile flashes her face, entirely too easily to be as real as it seems. Janet seems quite ready to let bygones be gone, given Loki's currente attitude of helpfulness.

Loki has posed:
Loki's gaze moves sideways with a brief little approving amusement when Sif seems to be responsive to his little subtle probe. It's distracting to the mage, though it doesn't derail the agenda he's currently running. Loki's always got something going, there's always a /plan/.

"It sounds as if you have virtually nothing. Just a lack of 'bone'; I can't really sympathize, but I imagine it's enough to cause the 'shit mood'. But I digress. ...I have a feeling we'd better start with the painfully obvious." Loki returns Janet's smile far more convincingly. She's going to make false grins at the god of lies? His brows quirk at her, as he allows his amusement at the whole thing to show. She's playing his game, in his view.

"You had your precious beau stolen by Mikonia of the Sybalt Order. Being that she's Khund - an alien race from Khundia obviously - you can expect a number of things," Loki says, as if this part of it were slightly boring to him, like he's reading a report. "Or rather, you //would//, if she wasn't behaving out of character for their military, and dropped that other designation."

Loki shifts his attention to Sif, well aware he's probably frustrating Janet by doing so. "Have you been to any of the planets of the Khundian Empire, Lady Sif?" Loki wonders, as if thinking about vacation destinations.

Sif has posed:
Inclining her head towards Janet, the Vanir Princess returns the unspoken acknowledgement to diplomacy. Her own beau tests the long-practiced veneer of decorum with his wording. Sif's eyes slide off to one side and seem to find the holographic display of information very interesting. Mmm, yes: boning.

Her attention is recaptured, however, with names and places dropped like golden coins into a wishing well. In a quiet change of posture wherein a small ring of armor upon itself sounds, she looks at Loki again.

"It has been some time since I last visited any of the planets of the Khundian Empire, but I have no fond memories of them. Their people were not welcoming of anyone who stood against their empirical tendencies," she reveals. Janet gets a glance that, again, contains a bare sprinkling of pity. Her fingers again subtly move to brush against the Mage's knuckles if only to indulge in the sensation of the magic's faintest tingling.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"JARVIS, be sure you're recording all this," Janet bids the AI. It's a wholly needless request, but all the same she makes it. The woman stares intently at Loki with her hands nestled into each other. The flat expression on her face shows no amusement at his indifferent sidebar with Sif; aware of it, yes, but not giving him the satisfaction of outwardly reacting to it.

"What's her beef with us, then? I've never even heard of Khundia," Janet inquires, once she has their attention again. "Let alone why some military reject would show up on Earth and kidnap four of my friends. I have no doubt they can get back from wherever they are, eventually. She's got to know that messing with the Avengers doesn't historically work out well for the people who try it."

Loki has posed:
Loki begins to ignore Janet a little bit, as if the conversation with Sif were more interesting or pleasant to him at first. Probably just to annoy her; Loki likes to stomp around on lines drawn in the sand. It's fun. "Full of 'honorable' duels and insults, that culture, expansionist. Pretty planet named - I believe Kinta 2? Beautiful place, even with the cities ravaged," Loki says, with a mild thoughtful, pleasant tone. It might be weird for Janet to observe, that Loki's capable of not directly being an asshole for a moment.

It doesn't last.

"Mmmm, her order isn't local to her home world. It's not Khund. I'm looking at it, but she mentioned a mad Titan, and 'stones'." Loki flicks his eyes to Sif, knowing she'll pick up a little clue from what he said; there's been a lot of discussion about stone use, and maybe not keeping them all in the same place, as it attracts 'attention'. "I'm looking at that. While I /am/ a miracle worker, evidenced by what I've done for Asgard, even miracles take time."

Loki makes a slight yawn, muffled. "Anyway. She's still behaving like a Khund. That 'take me to your leader so I can pummel him in a duel' thing, that's Khund. Your Avenger asked for it."

Sif has posed:
"That much is true. Your Avengers are beginning to merit a reputation." Sif attempts to ameliorate the situation with this truth and another nod towards Janet. The Princess does visibly straighten in place at the mention of stones. There's a knowing little twinkle in her pale eyes that she deliberately doesn't aim towards the wee fashionista behind her desk.

A hand lifted from the pommel of Brumeoalfold begs for a modicum of peace after Loki's last comment, though the Princess can't help but add, "I doubt that any of the Avengers asked for it even if their pluck might be misconstrued as otherwise. Know you of any stones, Miss Van Dyne?"

Sif tests the waters of knowledge in her questioning.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet's looking at her phone while Loki's doing his thing with Sif. She's actually doing some research; like any good GenZ, Janet can operate her mobile faster than a computer. Almost as fast as she can query JARVIS verbally. The information's collated and she sets JARVIS the task of cross-referencing the data, as well as trying to search other databases for information on 'Titan' and 'Stones'.

A few long seconds pass in silence after Loki's yawn and into Sif's question.

She looks up and that smile returns. "Hmm? Oh, my bad. Was texting a girlfriend." The phone's set aside and she interlaces her fingers on the desk again.

"I've seen the footage of the fight. I know what happened. But as for stones..." She plants her elbow on her desk to support her chin, and sighs heavily. "I'm afraid no one in this room is really properly equipped to talk about stones. Are we?"

She bats her lashes. Twice. "But I suppose we'll have to get by somehow."

Loki has posed:
"If you're trying to bait me with your vulgar suggestions, I am a prince of Asgard. I'll decline to go into your human gutter, /respectfully/," Loki says, pompous. Which doesn't mean he doesn't /understand/ the stones comment is aimed at him, naturally.

"I have given you, entirely by my grace of generosity alone, good information, that should, at the very least, lend you /hope/. Priceless, really, if you do love your lost beau beyond your base human 'needs'. Should you feel more willing to be respectful later, perhaps I'll tell you more."

Loki turns his torso some, towards Sif, says something quietly to her. His eyes flit to Janet, and then he twists on his heel, his illusion disappearing in a curling spiral of black mist-like illusory vanity.

Sif has posed:
If only the Princess of Vanaheim were allowed to palm her face a la Picard. Instead, she aims a focused, distant look somewhere beyond Janet's chair for a long few seconds; her tell is the muted slow tapping of a nail on the leather wrapping of her long-sword's grip.

"I hazarded no less, my lord," breathes the pale-eyed warrior back to Loki with an exaggerated turn of face -- no lip-reading available here -- before he melts into a smoky resolution of absence. Sif's armored chest rises and falls in a marked sigh as she then looks back at Janet.

"Loki speaks the truth in that the knowledge of the planets and their people are of use to you. Heed it as you will." In that, a subtle warning: this information could be double-edged as it stands. "Should more /appropriate/ information surface in regards to the stones, I shall be in contact with your Avengers further. They are not to be toyed with, these stones," comments Sif, revealing her own breadth of understanding as to the greatly-powerful stones. "I shall return in a week henceforth to see as to your progress, Miss Van Dyne."

The sudden sweep of loftiness betrays Sif's own tweaked pride in matters; nobody insults her beau. "And now, I have other matters to attend to. I wish you luck." On her heel, Sif turns and excuses herself without any further ado, the hem of her short-cloak rippling on her departure. Back to the backyard and another decorative Bifrost lawn-burn!

Oops?