7879/Visiting Hours Don't Apply

Visiting Hours Don't Apply
Date of Scene:	14 June 2019
Location:	Medical Ward - The Triskelion
Synopsis:	In which Thor visits Darcy in Medical and ends up with his shirt rumpled up his chest and why SHIELD doctors are going to refuse to ask why Darcy was laughing at Thor with his shirt up while sitting between his knees, but at least the flowers he had brought her were lovely. Or This is Why HR Hates Darcy Lewis, Part 2.
Cast of Characters:	Darcy Lewis, Thor

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Darcy Lewis has posed:
Early mid morning at the Triskelion, and Darcy's in medical for her check up. She sits on the hospital bed,as the doctors carefully unwrap her left arm, ready to help her start her rehab now that she's had time to rest. She winces faintly, one eye closing and her head pulling away.

Of all the crazy things Darcy's gotten into, dislocated shoulder is completely new.

Thor has posed:
    Thor has not been having the best of times, as of recent. Still reeling from the dissolution of his engagement to the Shi'ar Elissandra, after discovering her intention of committing Mariticide and Regicide, Thor also feels the weight of the crown upon his head. In addition to this, his dear friend Darcy Lewis has been injured by some villain who remains at large and unknown. And now, his friend, comrade, and fellow Avenger, The Vision, has fallen at the hands of a mad AI being.

    All around him, the outlook seems bleak and desolate. His hands seem so strong, like he might be able to hold on to anything, and yet, he feels like so much is just slipping through his fingers. For now, there is naught that he can do regarding his ruined engagement. He can only steel his resolve and move on. There is nothing more that he can do for Vision, either, save for avenge his death. But his Avenging is done with a team, and as impetuous as the Thunder God may be, he has matured past the brashness of his youth, and knows the value of working within a team, rather than going off half cocked.

    So, for now, he waits. But waiting does not have to be idle, either. What he can do, is try to be there for the friend that he still can do something for. As such, he comes walking in to the medical bay of the Triskelion. He is not in his divine garb, for now. Instead opting for a simple lightweight hoodie, left unzipped over a black t-shirt that clings to his torso like a second skin. A pair of jeans on his legs, and boots on his feet. Hardly what one might expect of a King. And in his hand, he clutches a bouquet of flowers in shades of blues and yellows, with roses and lillies counted among their number.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy does not want to move her arm because moving her arm not only makes her arm hurt, it makes her ribs hurt. But, she's managing not to whine overly much as the therapist helps her with range of motion.

"Looks good. I'm going to get the portable scanner, so sit tight and move that arm as much as you can without pain, alright?" says the doctor, and Darcy just nods lightly, eyes drifting up to spot the God of Thunder and the flowers in his hands. Darcy smiles, waiting for the doctor to leave before saying anything.

"Hi," she says. Her voice gentle and soft, hinting at tired but pulling through. "Come here often?" Lame pick up lines.

Thor has posed:
    "More often now than I should like," Thor notes with a hint of humor lacing his deep, gruff voice, his eyebrows ticking up as he casts his stare on the injured girl. He does give the therapist a glance, smile and nod combo of recognition as he's passed, and then steps in further.

    "I hear tell that it is tradition in Midgard to gift flowers to those who are receiving medical care," He offers, as he lifts that bouquet up in his clenched fist, extended towards her as if he might be offering her a mug of ale. "How is that arm?"

    Before she even has a chance to answer, he's interjecting with a quick, "Something has happened, and I fear that I shall be grating on my brother's nerves very keenly in short order. I do not believe he shall be amenable to my requests to assist you with your healing."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
His response has Darcy chuckling. Her right hand rests on her shoulde while she rolls her left slowly. Her smile brightens at the flowers, and a tiny hint of color lifts to her cheeks in what has to be a school girl blush. She lifts her right hand to accept them.

"Aw, Thor... They're gorgous. I'll put them on my desk," she says, doing the girl thing and bring them to her nose to inhale the scent. Her eyes flutter shut before they open again and she's looking up at the Thunderer. Her shoulders shrug, both of them. About to answer how her arm is, Thor's cutting in, seeming to tumble over his words. Something about his brother and not being willing to help out, and all she really sees is that Thor might be upset at himself because Loki's being Loki and not wanting to do something that he's not going to get something out of. She reaches out with her good hand to catch one of Thor's.

"Hey. It's fine. Your brother doesn't know me, and if he doesn't feel like helping that's fine. Thank you for wanting to offer, for caring enough to suggest it, and while it would have been awesome to be righ tback on my feet in time for Saturday's bout, it's fine, really. Don't beat yourself up for it, and don't let anyone - even myself - say he's a dick for it, okay? His magic. His choice, right?" Darcy says, fingers squeezing lightly, the thumb of her uncallosed thumb pushing and rubbing against his rougher knuckles. The therapist comes back withthat scanner, and moves around to the other side of Thor to get things hooked up and going.

Thor has posed:
    "I hope that they smell fine. I was told that they were scented with baby's breath," Thor confesses, sucking in a deep breath and holding it as Darcy smells the flowers. "I have only ever known baby's breath to be most foul. The stench of old milk and spit up."

    Her hand captures his, and he looks down at it, before his fingers give a gentle squeeze back, in turn. "It isn't about knowing or not knowing you. And I have not even asked. I just know my brother, and he is likely to be furious at what it is that I am to do by opening the borders of New Asgard to refugees in light of these so called Sentinels."

    He pauses, his face turning down as a worried expression creases his brow and sombers his face. "I will have months of sneering smiles directed at me, every time I speak a word unto him. I just know it. He does this thing where he smiles at you through his gritting teeth and you can just see that it's so disdainful."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Thor's worry over how the flowers smell makes Darcy giggle. She doesn't continue on about the flowers though, as Thor reveals his concerns about opening his borders to rfugees. She brushes the doctor away so she can talk to her friend. The doctor rolsl her eyes, but figures that since the important part of her check up was done that giving the two soe space wouldn't be terrible.

"...want me to kick his ass for you?" Darcy offers. It's not that she really wants to be violent to his brother or is under any belief that she stands a chance, but it's the principle of the matter, that she's willing to stand up to whatever for people she cares about.

"Let him be furious. You are doing what earth did for yours. Let him sneer. Maybe? Maybe he'll sneer because he wishes he'd thought of it first. And I know those smiles. I used to get those smiles, from skinny ass chicks who tell me I was too fat to wear this or that. It's jealousy, plain and simple, and once I took that as a complement of how bad ass I look, it stopped hurting. But, i get that it's worse from family. And mayve, he is jelaous because... let's face it Thor, you're hot and everyone likes you. And Loki? Well, he hasn't really done the nicest things and from the stories he can be kind of a dick, so..." Darcy stops, because she's lost track of where she was going with that, and so she just opens her arms.

"Comere, Big Guy."

Thor has posed:
    Thor lifts his gaze to the doctor when she's shoo'ed away, offering an apologetic, and almost sheepish look. And giving that awkward, tight lipped smile that white people do all the time. He'll wait until the doctor has left and closed the door once again, before turning his attention back on to Darcy.

    "Ha! No. There shall be no ass kicking, Darcy Lewis. IF... he is upset, there is good cause for it. We are, ourselves, refugees in many regards. Our resources are thin, and our land small. It could tax us as a nation," Thor replies, showing an amount of insight and thoughtfulness that perhaps most might not think of when regarding the God of Thunder. "My brother would simply posit that we should be able to ensure the prosperity of our own before offering to share of ourselves with others. He is not wrong. It just... Isn't the way that I feel."

    The tirade that she goes on, however, does bring about a stern, but confused look from the King of New Asgard as she speaks of skinny girls berating her. The very concept seems completely alien to him. He scoffs, rolling his eyes, and shaking his head. "Jealousy, Darcy Lewis. Women are meant to have curves. Nothing is more enticing than a fine woman with a voluptuous chest, and wide, child-bearing hips and thick thighs that seem meant to rest one's weary head upon. These are qualities that you possess, and yet you still have more. Any woman would be served well to be gifted with your attributes, and any one who should fancy the fairest of the sexes would be a champion to earn your affection."

    He moves closer when prompted, and eases himself down beside her, so that they are resting hip to hip. Leaning aside into her, he slips an arm around her back, low so as not to hurt her ribs, and gives just the faintest of squeezes.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Aw. Shucks. Thanks, Thor. You can just say I'm hot, you know," Darcy quips, blushing despite herself. After Thor doesn't just SAY things just to say them. Leaned into him, she sighs lightly, feet kicking lightly since she's too short for her feet to reach the ground when sitting on a hospital bed.

"You're both right, you know," Darcy says after a moment, her voice softer. "You can't spread your resources too thin but what's it say when you're not even willing to help? I'll look around, see what other supplies I can track down for your guys. I might be broken, but I can still make phone calls and emails," she offers, having long ago lost the Thor is just a big dumb stack of muscles. She shifts, tilting her chin up to look at Thor in the ...chin.

"You gotta follow your heart, Buddy. And yours is in the right spot, and with him wanting to worry about Asgardians first... well... his is too." She pauses again, head shiftign to look away again.

"Have ya'll made a formal petition to the UN yet? I've been meaning to check in on that, but.. Yeah. I'll stay more on top of this shit. It's almost like I have a degree in this or something."

Thor has posed:
    "Such things matter not to me, Darcy," Thor retorts to the suggestion that he could just call her hot. The faint curvature on his lips would suggest that he either found humor in her comment, or might just be teasing her back. Slowly, the Asgardian slides back, turning so that his back is to the risen head of the bed, while lifting one of his long legs carefully, over Darcy's head and then lowering it behind her so that he can recline, stretched out.

    "Thank you. You're too kind," he replies to her offer of assistance, though he lifts a hand to ward it off with a slight shake of his head. "But there is no need. You have enough on your plate and I am certain that we will have plenty. And no. We have yet to make a petition to the UN. I am, as of yet, uncertain that it would be the best move. It still feels like... Like we're simply visitors. Visitors on standby while waiting for... something. This is what happens when I follow my heart. The problem is that I have too much heart to follow."

    With that comment, Thor's lips arc into a sly grin, his eyes twinkling impishly. He gives Darcy a level moment of eye contact, as he states, matter of factly, "The heart, you see, is a muscle."

    Shrugging off his shoulder, the Mighty Thor raises each arm, flexing his impossibly thick muscles so that his biceps look almost as if someone had inserted bowling balls under his flesh. Each muscle stands in stark relief, chiseled into him like stone, and causing his tight fitting t-shirt to make the threatening creak of splitting seams. He turns his head face to kiss a bicep, and states "This is a muscle. And this."

    He kisses the other. And then lowers his arms, flexing his triceps. "And these are muscles."

    Lifting his shirt up, over his chest, he taps each pec and each rippling abdominal muscle, proclaiming "Each of these are muscles, so therefore I am covered in hearts, and have more heart than anyone."

    "Except maybe for Banner."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy snicker-snorts at Thor's teasing, because he's clearly teasing about not caring about calling her hot. He shifts and Darcy looks over, holding still while he kicks over her head. She doesnt even flinch, not for a heartbeat worried he was gonig to hit her even on accident. When he reclines, she shifts too, Turning to pull one leg up onto the bed and folding it under herself. She rolls her left shoulder, pouting a bit as he AGAIN waves off her offer of help. She opens her mouth to argue the point when Thor stays her comment with that impish grin.

He is the Mischief God's Brother, after all.

Darcy washes Thor flex about, her eyes flitting from gun show to gun show to rippling washboard abs. She tries for an unimpressed smirk, only to lose it to a giggle fit a moment later when he declares himself covered in hearts and then follows it with the declaration that Banner has more than himself.

Tears fill Darcy's eyes. Cries of laughter as she clutches her ribs. Laughing hurts, but it was all so adorably ridiculous that she can't NOT laugh.

Thor has posed:
    "You laugh in the face of Thor, Son of Odin, God of Thunder, Wielder of Mjolnir and King of New Asgard?!" Thor exclaims, his voice booming and shocked. His face is twisted with a wide eyed expression of indignant outrage, and he recoils deep into the back of the bed, as if literally taken aback.

    But he can't maintain the facade. Soon, the smile breaks, and Thor's chuckle sounds like distant, rolling thunder as it rises from deep in the pit of his stomach, which is still exposed, with his shirt bunched up over his chest.

    Of course that's the exact time that the doctor will peek BACK in to see if the coast is clear. Her eyes widen at the sight, and she quickly and wordlessly ducks back out of the door, closing it behind her.

    "See now, Darcy," Thor says, still grinning ear to ear, as he leans forward and pats her knee with one hand. "You needn't worry a thing. Odin be willing, everything will turn out fine."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
His indignant outrage just makes Darcy laugh harder, both arms wrapping about herself as Thor recoils from her. She lists to the side, having to reach out with a hand on his thigh to keep herself from tipping over completely. She dobles over, gasping for breath, bent toward his midsection as that doctor walks back in.

Oh, that sight. Thor with his shirt bunched up over his chest and Darcy folded over him, sitting between his knees with a hand on his thigh. She misses that the doctor was even there, looking up with laugh-tears streaking her flushed face. She nods, smiling broadly herself.

"Okay. Okay. Just... CALL me? I know. Just a little mortal, but I want to help, Thor. You're like family, so your people are like family. If there's something I can do, even a little thing, I want to do it, okay?"