7331/What's a Darryl

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What's a Darryl
Date of Scene: 26 April 2019
Location: The Broken Antler, Kvalvika, New Asgard
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: Darryl Jacobson, Vintridr, Hela




Darryl Jacobson has posed:
    Things have been hectic since arriving at New Asgard. It wasn't enough that Darryl was thrown into a diplomatic role for which he truly was not qualified. At least in his mind. King Thor seemed to disagree, thus him having this job at all. His whirlwind training had consisted of about a week with the main emphasis being 'don't make them angry' and 'don't embarass us.'
    As much armor and weapons as he had seen, he was focusing on the former. It seemed prudent when the people could rip off his arms and beat him to death with them.
    Of course, he also had a touch of armor envy when he was wandering around in his suits and everyone else was dressed like something out of medieval times. Sort of. And now Thor had gone and decided that he should learn to be one of them. Despite Darryl's protests. Thor tended to just ignore his words and do what he wanted.
    It was like they were roommates still. Something that Thor had almost done until wiser heads had explained it would be considered favoritism.
    For now, he was sitting in the Broken Antler, sipping on a beer. Not a normal beer. This was some sort of Asgardian Mead or the like. It was delicous but they had to water it down to ten percent mead and 90 percent H2O. That way he didn't die.
    He approved of not dying.
    He was still in his gray suit with a white shirt and a paisley blue tie, though the tie was loosened and the top button at the collar undone so he felt more comfortable.

Vintridr has posed:
    It's not /entirely/ a coincidence that Vintridr is in the same tavern, likewise enjoying a drink - albeit significantly stronger; while the King of Asgard has decreed that all ambassadors be accorded the respect due to proper envoys and none of Thor's people would disobey intentionally, it has been quite some time since Asgard played host to /any/ envoys... And those envoys had often been of similarly resilient races, or at least well versed enough in Asgardian etiquette to know how to avoid giving offense while weathering some of its more energetic aspects.

    The people of Midgard can be surprisingly fragile, and Thor would not appreciate a diplomatic incident caused by one of his subjects accidentally maiming an ambassador with a hearty backslap. So for the past few weeks, whenever any of the ambassadors went out in public, Vintridr or some of the other Asgardians with a knack for subtlety has been hanging around in the background. It's an important duty and a good (and mostly safe) test of their ability to be discreet, after all...

Hela has posed:
It was surely quite the experience having to adapt to living among Asgardians, even if they were currently settled on Earth, it was surely different than anything Darryl truly knew. Which is why Darryl might be caught off guard by something that none of the others present in the Antler seem to even pay heed to, and that is a black raven flying in through the window, circling about by the ceiling, before swooping down to land right next to Darryl, cawing at him. Should Darryl not be too startled, he may notice the piece of parchment attached to the raven's leg. If Thor ever mentioned sending ravens for communications before and he doubted him? Well, now he has proof in the form of his first raven communique.

That is because Hela has heard of this new Australian Ambassador, and she's been curious to meet that man of Midgard, which her brother was so fond of. What was so special about this Darryl, that he should win such high favor.

Should Darryl open the parchment, the raven would caw again and fly away. The parchment itself unfurls to read:

"Darry, Ambassador of Australia, friend of King Thor,
I have heard you are a man of distinction, I wish to find out for myself.
Will you allow me to share a drink in an unofficial capacity so that we may
hold discourse with no formality?"

Then there's a box to mark 'Yes' and a box to mark 'No', but there are no means to send this parchment anywhere. Curious.

Darryl Jacobson has posed:
    When the raven lands, Darryl almost jumps out of his skin. He starts and jerks backwards, tottering to try to regain his balance and almost ending up on his butt beside the bench. He manages to grab the edge of the table and right himself, shifting down a seat and taking his mead with him as he eyes the bird suspiciously.
    Only when he moves, it hops the step closer to him. He moves again. To repeat the process. "Shoo! Bad bird! You shouldn't be indoors!"
    That works about as well as should be expected. Which is to say, not at all.
    Darryl looks around helplessly but all the people who usually bring him his drinks are busy with other Asgardians. He eyes the raven again, taking a careful sip of his mead and watching the bird warily over the rim as he drank.
    That's when he spotted the parchment. "You have got to be kidding." This means he will have to reach near the bird. He does so very carefully, fully expecting to get pecked for daring to try. It doesn't happen and he withdraws the parchment then opens it, only to have ten more years scared off his life when the bird takes off noisily.
    Reading the note, he frowns a bit then reaches into the breast pocket of his jacket to withdraw a pen. He checks the Yes box, just like in grade school when a girl wanted to know if he liked her, and looked up to try and find where the raven got off to.

Vintridr has posed:
    Darryl is a bit too preoccupied with the Suddenly Bird to notice immediately how he has momentarily become the center of the bar's attention. Royal messengers aren't that common anymore, and for the Midgardian to receive a missive... Well, things might just get interesting.

    Fortunately, while most Asgardians don't have much of a sense of what Midgard considers discretion, they /do/ have a strong sense of propriety, and by the time Darryl is paying attention to the world around him again the attention has declined to the occasional glance.

Hela has posed:
Curiously enough, while the raven is no longer there to take Darryl's reply to the message back, it seems that just him marking his reply did the trick, because the door opens and in walks Hela, her dark green cape billowing behind her as she heads directly towards Darryl, with such deliberate motion, one might think she's had some kind of beef with him.

She is known by now among the people of New Asgard, and they do make way, with some pleasantries offered in respect, to which Hela just casually inclines her head with the faintest of motions.

When she finally makes it to Darryl's table, she invites herself to sit across from him, "I'm glad you agreed to meet without formality, it would allow for a much smoother conversation," she notes, looking intensely at Darryl's eyes, her own are quite eerie, when as if in an after thought she adds, "oh, by the way, I am Hela, Queen of Niflheim, Princess of Asgard, Thor's Sister," she extends her arm towards him, even as she adds, "and the Goddess of Death," as if she just tossed an M.D. there in the end or something.

Darryl Jacobson has posed:
    As the door opens, Darryl is still looking for the raven. He whistles low then murmurs, "Here birdie birdie birdie." It never occurs to him that the message was already delivered to the person who asked.
    In his search for the winged mail-avian, he spots the woman striding across the room coming his direction. He pauses and slowly looks behind him to see who she is after. When there is no one behind him, he looks back to her with slightly wide eyes although he's trying not to panic.
    His heart is not agreeing with his mind and has gone into overdrive as it tries to pound its way out of his chest.
    He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing with the motion and looks around to see if any of the other Asgardians are.... Nope. His table is suddenly empty. Brown eyes are refocused on the woman as she reaches the table and sets herself down.
    Good news! She wasn't trying to kill him! So she sent the message. He looks at the parchment, still in his hand, then to the woman in front of him and pastes on his best smile. As she offers her hand, he extends his.
    "..and the Goddess of Death," she finishes.
    His hand freezes about six inches before it makes contact with her hand. Now this is one of those moments. She's the Goddess of Death. So...if he touches her hand, will he die? It's a valid worry considering. But if he doesn't touch her hand he goes right back into that territory of 'don't piss off the Asgardians' because it would be impolite to withdraw.
    His hand trembles slightly with the weight of this conundrum but then he opts to do the proper thing and closes the distance. After all, she wouldn't just kill him when she wanted to meet. Right? Right?!
    "It is an honor to meet you, Highness." He goes for the handshake.

Vintridr has posed:
    Of course, any member of the Royal Family is highly respected -- yes, even Loki -- and the Princess of Asgard is welcome wherever she deigns to go. It's just that a lot of Asgardians find themselves suddenly recalling having business somewhere else (/anywhere else/) when the Goddess of Death walks into the bar in her full regalia. As she isn't wearing her spiked crown it's less a stampede and mostly a discreet retreat, and not everyone leaves, but the bar is a lot quieter and more empty than it was five minutes ago.

    Vintridr is among those who remain, unless her Queen bids her leave. After all, she hasn't had much chance yet to learn to know the Queen she was meant to serve, and she has no wish to repeat the mistakes of faith she'd made with the All-father...

Hela has posed:
Hela doesn't show it, but Darryl's fear amuses her as she approaches him with such direct motion. When she offers an introduction, she further delights in how he hesitates in completeing this Midgardian habit of a handshake, and she doesn't offer any help at first, letting him stew in his indecision. Until he finally makes a choice, and she laughs, "brave man, I can respect that much, and please, no need for titles...I ask for an informal discussion, you may address me as Hela, friend of Thor."

Turns out no harm came out of shaking hands with the Goddess of Death, is that because it's safe to touch her? Or was it because she truly didn't mean to harm him? Either way, she doesn't seem to offer an explanation of any sort, nor ease the pressure of being in her presence. "So, you're my brother's favorite Midgardian I hear..." Hela muses, "go on, tell me about yourself," she presses at Darryl.

When she notes Vintridr present, she motions for her to approach, "ever met a Valkyrie, Darryl?"