7688/Stark's Birthday Week: Silver and Lightning

Stark's Birthday Week: Silver and Lightning
Date of Scene:	31 May 2019
Location:	Stark Tower - Main Lobby
Synopsis:	Thor and Silver meet at the Stark Birthday ball, and talk about Thor's upcoming maritals.
Cast of Characters:	Thor, Silver Sable

---

Thor has posed:
    Still chuckling to himself as he detached himself from the crowd of Avengers, Thor was shaking his head and smiling. It was good to get away from things, the woes of the unknown and the encroachment of the future. A few more hours of being able to retain that connection with the past and the people whose lives had touched his and with whom he felt his best years had been spent.
    Behind him he leaves laughter and joviality, even as Stark makes the rounds to the other visitors. Doing the meets and greets as a host must do. Cap and Janet are there enjoying each others' company, and everyone is laughing at Rhodey's humor and occasional antics.
    But for now, with his empty tropical ceramic drink in hand, the hula lady on the side seeming somehow less festive without whiskey or rum in the bowl of the drink, Thor makes his way through the crowd and despite the smallest hint of a buzz... is able to navigate well enough.
    Until there is a faint thump as he steps around someone and states, "I beg your pardon," In that deep baritone of a voice, offering a smile without really looking as he tries to make his way back to the mostly ignored tertiary bar and the attentions of the tender there.

Silver Sable has posed:
"<Son of a bitch, watch-->" The Symkarian tongue rattles off Silver's lips and she turns in place to scowl at whomever jostled her, nearly spilling her drink on her gloves. She's wearing quite the outfit, a floor-length silver dress that clings to her curves, with a halter top held in place by a metal torc around her neck. It's asymmetrical, with the left sleeve removed up to her shoulder, and matching white kidskin gloves cover her arms up to the tricep.

She blanches. "Oh! Lord Thor! Please forgive me," she stammers up at him. "I should be more mindful of my manners. I did not mean to--" she clears her throat, tries for a pleasant smile. "Er, how are you this evening, I mean?"

Thor has posed:
    It's enough to stop Thor in his tracks. The brief and abrupt realization that in front of him is Silver Sablinova and his smile gains a truth in sentiment that it lacked only moments ago when he was simply offering that pleasantry. "Silver."
    She might hear the warmth in the single utterance of that word, but then he clears his throat and straightens up, adjusting the buttons upon his undervest and then his coat as he says a little more formally, "Lady Sablinova."
    As a waiter passes Thor, in an attempt at subtlety, he places his entirely too large drink container onto the tray he carries with empties. It's enough to make the man's eyes go wide with the surprise shift in weight and luckily he has a knack for this sort of thing as he adjusts just enough in time that he doesn't lose all the champagne flutes that were on there as well. A moment, and then he's back on his way.
    "Stark certainly knows how to throw a soiree." A moment as he takes her in, stepping back but a half step, "Your dress is striking."

Silver Sable has posed:
Silver smiles, then even grins a bit at Thor's praise. She doesn't glance modestly away, or blush, though there's definitely a little ruddiness around her nose at his words. "You are too kind," Silver tells Thor with a dip of her head. "It's from a European designer, I forget the label. A gift from a friend for formal occasions. I don't, uh... do these. Much," she amends, gesturing vaguely at the throngs of well-wishers. "Not without a protectee nearby. I feel naked with only one gun on me," she confesses with a muttered tone. "But I am glad, at least, you appreciate it."

Thor has posed:
    "Ah," Thor says as he nods with her words, agreeing as he offers up in turn. "Aye, I know such a feeling. Without Mjolnir at my side I feel as if some part of me is missing." Perhaps not /quite/ the same feeling, but he gets the gist.
    The crowd around them has parted, like a small island in the rushing eddy of a river, people are flowing around them and the broad shoulders of the Asgardian is enough to break the approach of humanity to one side or the other. Yet he gestures with one hand, "I was about to get another drink, would you like one as well?"
    He starts to move in that direction and then says with an openness that belies the connotations of the word. "Have you tried the blow job? It's very sweet."

Silver Sable has posed:
Silver follows in the eddies of Thor's wake, bellying up to the bar with him. Her smile's polite but sincere, an eye always on the people around her. She doesn't' offer violence, but, much like Thor, there's something about the silver-haired woman that seems to nudge people away from her like deflecting bugs from her path.

Then Thor casually suggests a drink and she looks at him with a sudden and completely flat expression. A credit to her upper crust upbringing, she at least gives him the benefit of the doubt. "I beg your pardon," she says, making it less question than statement. Fingers curl around the glass in her fingers, as if gauging whether or not Thor needs another drink hurled at him.

Thor has posed:
    His features hold no deception nor malice, they're just the normal open golden retrieversque look that he seems to wear in most states when not vexed. But he gestures with the roll of one hand towards the bar as he draws near, "The ummm," He turns to look towards the bartender, then back towards where the shots were enjoyed, then back to her. "The drink? With the whipped topping?"
    His eyebrows climb, "It seems to be a draw of sorts. Though I was enjoying the rum..." Of course that's the moment when he reaches the bar and smiles to the tender there, "Ah, Kelly. I return!"
    Back to Silver as the young bartender looks at them both somewhat blankly, "What would you wish to have, my lady?"

Silver Sable has posed:
"The drink--" Silver looks around in befuddlement, but then she realizes what Thor's talking about. It seems the antics of the Avengers have drawn some imitators, and she spots a couple debutantes ordering those very drinks and making a giggling spectacle of themselves as they try to consume them.

"I... ahh.... you know, I think some wine would be fine," Silver says, and sets her hard liquor aside, out of reach.

"So. Upcoming nuptials," she tells Thor. A smile is flashed and she stands with a palm on the bartop, elbow corkscrewed out to support her weight. "Congratulations are in order, da?" she inquires of him. "Are you nervous?"

Thor has posed:
    "Two glasses of the house wine, please?" Thor asks of the young Kelly, then turns back towards Silver as she tends to the drink order.
    "Indeed," About the upcoming nuptials, but then she asks him if he's nervous and his eyebrows lift a little. "I do not know if that is the correct word. But she seems a good woman. And the alliance will do well for both our peoples." He hesitates there, but then pushes on. "We have only known each other a short time, but we have..." His brow knits, "Much in common."
    A nod is given steadily, a few times longer than might normally be given before he adds. "She likes to dance!" He points to Silver and then elaborates, "And seems to... get along with some of my friends." He nods again as if reciting an exhausting list.
    "I... it shall be a great event." He smiles.

Silver Sable has posed:
Silver eyes Thor with a level expression that seems to suggest a lot more than she's saying. "Well. It sounds like it will be an extremely civil union then," she says, with a tone so tongue in cheek it can't possibly be taken as anything other than absolute neutrality.

Fingers curl around the wineglass and she lifts it to Thor. "To your happiness then," she tells Thor, and sips her drink. She doesn't press him, of course, but those silver eyes remain fixed inscrutably on Thor's face. After all, he wouldn't flinch or sigh at such a toast if he were happy with the status quo.

Right?

Thor has posed:
    "Aye," He says in answer to the first and she can tell part of him is on edge, as if awaiting a sharp word, or some condemnation. But accepting it as he takes up his glass and lifts it when she makes the motion to do so herself. "To your happiness, Lady Sablinova." He says, redoubling the effort of the toast and making a faint clink of glass upon glass.
    He drinks and looks across the room, then executes the topic change with masterful precision. "So these Sentinels?" He asks, nodding a few more times. "Rather terrible aren't they?" At least... it's not the weather.

Silver Sable has posed:
Silver shrugs a bare shoulder at Thor's topic, looking unconcerned. "They make very little difference to me," she tells him with a dismissive flicker of her fingers. "Tanks. Drones. Nothing new. They're not very useful on the battlefield," she reminds him. "Big, slow moving, large heat signature. And I am not a metahuman so I have little concern they'll come for me. Frankly, it's one more example of American military might flexing their superiority on the rest of the world, then being shocked at the fallout from their actions," Silver says with a note of contempt. "Someday these damn Yankees will understand that if they keep leaving weapons and hotspots unattended all over the world, it'll eventually come back and bite them in their asses."

Thor has posed:
    The Thunderer tilts his head to the side, one good eye following her lips as she speaks, that accent granting a curious twist to some of the words. But he smiles and then asks, "They are American made? I thought they belonged to that..." He lifts a hand and gestures to the side casually, "The man known as Trask? He is American?" It's clear that Thor doesn't exactly keep up on such things. Though he perhaps should.
    But then he smiles to the bartender and accepts the bottle from her, taking it with him as he steps out of the way as other people come up to place orders. Yet it allows them to casually walk on the edge of the crowd, near the conversation alcoves and near the balcony doors.
    "We of Asgard have thought similarly in the past. At times we have lost aspects of our people, weapons of war, powerful artifacts. E'er do we seek them out for we know what havoc can be wrought. Stark used to spread weapons as well, but now he is the wiser."

Silver Sable has posed:
"The American government is not the largest procurer of Sentinels?" Silver inquiers, brows lifting. "They are not built here, designed here, supplied here?"

She drifts along with Thor to a table, and elects to sit at a stool instead of stand. Her heels are stylish, but comfortable they are not. "You should acquaint yourself with American military history, m'Lord," Silver prompts Thor. "It's a long series of stories where Americans either ignored problems until they became crises, or 'intervened' militarily where their aid was not wanted or needed. Amazingly, all their military interventions seem to happen where crucial resources or lands are available. They pretend they are not conquerors, but no other nation is making strides to create a new British Empire like America is. They just use corporations and military bases instead of Foreign Legions and 'trading garrisons'."

Thor has posed:
    Sliding into the conversation alcove, but just sitting on the edge of the seat, so he can speak more easily with her, Thor nods his head. "I have known of some of the prior conflicts of this land. Captain Rogers has told me much of the war he was in. A great endeavour."
    He lets his gaze distance for a moment, though he bites upon his lip briefly before he looks back to her. "Though perhaps do not judge the Americans harshly. There was a time in ages past when Asgard had conquered, to draw others under our banner. My father seemed like this... heartless tyrant to many assuredly. But he had seen with his distant gaze the oncoming threat of such malice that it was only through a unified realm were our people and theirs able to survive."
    He tilts his head back to Silver and says with a small smile, "Though I know I am not conversant in what passes throughout your history. I just perhaps know that there are often many approaches one takes to what they feel is the best course of action."
    He looks down a little and then looks back towards Silver, "Even if it's not entirely how they would have things be."

Silver Sable has posed:
"Captain Rogers is a hero to many, not just America," Silver reminds Thor. "He is a soldier's soldier. He did not just fight for American interests. He fought for freedom. My grandfather served with him in the Great War," she points out. "And spoke very highly of him. Someday I will meet him and I hope I can shake his hand and tell him what Colonel Sablinova thought of the world's greatest soldier."

She gives Thor a knowing look. She doesn't miss much, with those silver eyes. "You do not sound like the cheery bridegroom, Lord Thor," she remarks after a few moments. "More like a man condemned. Is marriage such an onerous affair on Asgard that it's viewed with doom and despondency?"

Thor has posed:
    "More perhaps I mourn much of what has passed, it is assuredly not a rarity." He looks up and around the room, smiling a little just halfways at the corner of his mouth. "For a man to be turned o'erly introspective at the passage of time."
    Then back to her, "It has been a trying two years, and I have endured. But it is this..." He gestures sidelong, likely meaning the wedding. "Not the loss of my home. My father, my mother. My people. Not the ascending of the throne. Nor the rebuilding." He crinkles his nose and shakes his head as if displeased with himself, "This that affects my mood and has me reflecting. Is that not foolish?" He asks her, shaking his head slightly.
    "Am I not selfish?" He says that with some strength behind the conviction. "So aye, and Ellisandra deserves not this foul mood that at times takes me. For she is innocent of all save duty."

Silver Sable has posed:
Silver frowns and rests her forearms on the table, elbows winging out. Fingers rest on her triceps and she regards Thor levelly.

"It's perhaps impolite to speak to a groom before his wedding too familiarly," she hedges. "But if you recall, the last time we discussed your marital possibilities, I threw a beer at your head."

"I was insulted because of what you said. That you were 'considering' me," she explains. "Perhaps for this... Lady Elissandra, to be 'considered' is enough. It may be all she wants, to be evaluated like a pound of bacon at the market. A cost versus benefit," she allows.

"But I know for me, if I were to be wed, and I knew my bridegroom was sullen and unenthusiastic, I would be furious. Especially if he continued to insist that all was well-- and *doubly* so if his only answer for his misery was 'I have a duty'," she observes. "Duty, in my experience, makes for a cold blanket in winter. It is fine for short battles but you cannot win a campaign subsisting on it alone."

Thor has posed:
    "I understand, Lady Sablinova." A breath is taken and then let back out but not quite a sigh. He instead looks about the room, then back to her. "It is thought amongst my people that such weddings are important. The solidifying of alliances, bonds between families and nations. We have a strong sentiment of romantic love, devotion, sacrifice. But it is paired with a curious partner in that we also feel that love can grow from nothing."
    He opens a hand to the side and says, "Such as it was with my parents. Though they only spoke of it in loose terms. But I believe their joining was troubled. Muchly so at the start."
    Then his eyebrows rise, "And we are long lived. So it shall take some time in the finding."

Silver Sable has posed:
"I'm Symkarian, Lord Thor," Silver reminds the God of Thunder. "My people have survived a thousand years of war and conquest in Europe, and that's no mean feat for a small nation wedged between several major powers," she points out. "We've done things to survive. Marriages of political convenience."

"I am not saying I agree, or disagree," she clarifies, a hand flexing in the air. "I am not speaking as an aristocrat. You have many of those in your life. I sense, perhaps, you do not have many *women* in your life. In that capacity, I can tell you that I would have little respect for a man who wedded me for ulterior reasons, whether solely to bed me or to strengthen political bonds. So, do you think your future Queen will respect you enough for love to form if you sacrifice your happiness for the sake of your people?"

Thor has posed:
    A deep breath and then he pushes himself to his feet, "Possibly, Lady Sablinova. Only time will tell." He for a moment undoes the small band that holds his hair back and he shakes it out, having let it grown these last few weeks.
    A glance is given towards the coat room some distance away towards the front of the assembly hall, then he looks back towards her. "Forgive me, Silver. I feel the need for some fresh air." He turns and gives her a bow, good eye lowering. "I shall return. Save me a dance if you would."
    At that his smile is there again, though a little subdued. He takes a step back and makes to depart if she should allow him.

Silver Sable has posed:
"Wait," Silver says, and rests her fingers on Thor's forearm. A frustrated expression washes across her rawboned features. "Damnit. I am... I am sorry, lord Thor," she tells him. "It seems every time I see you, I lecture you or castigate you somehow. Or throw something at you." A flickering of humor appears at the corners of her mouth, trying to prompt a smile from the god.

"Please do not leave? Or at least, dance with me before you go. Else I'll be sitting here wondering if and when you return, and that will leave me either impatient or angry no matter the outcome." She grins at him, then. "Surely you wouldn't be so gauche as to abandon me to /this/ company?" she asks, nodding at the swirling melee of socialites.

Thor has posed:
    "Ah," Thor says with a warmth to him as he offers his arm to her and curls his hand over hers. "Assuredly I could not, how good of you to remind me." He draws her close and for a moment it's a lovely thing, a brief instant where two people who have an affection for each other, perhaps an attraction, they can simply enjoy the nearness. He is so tall, and warm, his touch gentle even as he looks down to her.
    For a time she can see his gaze slip back and forth between her eyes, as if trying to see what depths he can plumb, to perhaps see some window in those silver irises. And he shakes his head, his smile broadening perhaps against his will as he murmurs quietly. "Your beauty has ever staggered me, Silver."
    And that is the moment he dares to raise a hand, just to gently touch a fingertip to one lock of her hair and slip it out of her eyes, so he can see those irises clearly. A tilt of his head, a slight motion of it as he says, "Shall we?" And then he looks towards the dance floor, offering for them to share that at least on this night.

Silver Sable has posed:
Silver blinks rapidly in unadulterated surprise at Thor's sudden forwardness. She leans back just a little without shifting her feet, more out of a sudden sense of upset scale than retreat. The touch startles her from her unblinking stare and she flickers her eyes to and from Thor's face to his near hand, back again. Fingers tighten on his forearm, and her silver-blue eyes dilate minutely.

"Y-yes, of course," she says, managing to gather her wits, and with her hand resting on Thor's arm she allows herself to be escorted to the dance floor. The music shifts from the frantic hybaritic pace to something more stately and measured, and Silver positions herself in Thor's arms to be led through a slow and graceful waltz that is neither hurried nor demonstrative, looking up at Thor with a quizzical-- evne uncertain-- expression.

But a pleased one, either way.