7885/The Aurora, and a Peanut Butter and Trout Sandwich

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The Aurora, and a Peanut Butter and Trout Sandwich
Date of Scene: 15 June 2019
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Thor takes Jessica to Iceland to help her decompress after the disappearance of Sebastion.
Cast of Characters: Spider-Woman (Drew), Thor




Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
Jessica has never been to Iceland. She's seen pictures. She's seen it in movies. But she's never SEEN it before. Not until now. Of course, on the surface nowhere is so different from anywhere else. But she trusts that Thor has destinations in store that will change her mind forever about that. She's packed light. Dressed warmer than usual for this time of the year. Her crimson-gradient suit is beset with gleaming gold spiderwebbing. Over the bodysuit, a brown leather blazer, and jeans with matching brown leather boots. Her hair is down - and will stay that way unless she has some reason to need it out of her way. The crisp breeze tosses it carelessly, though, as Jess takes in her new surroundings. "So...Iceland, hm? I feel so....viking."

Thor has posed:
    Iceland.

    One might ask why the Aesir didn't settle their New Asgard on Iceland, as it is the leading nation for the worship of the old Gods, with the first of the new temples to Odin, Thor, and the rest. A place where the language spoken most closely resembles that taught from the Asgardians to the tongues of Norsemen. It's a land that, as far as Odinson is concerned, is just as much a home as any other on Midgard.

    As for his attire? He's dressed as Thor. Sleeveless. Black leather vest, with silver disks adorning his torso. Black leather pants, with just a hint of red in the piping accents, and a sliver of scaled armor along the outside of each thigh. He need not worry about the cold. He's been through colder, yet.

    "Viking?" He asks, a wry grin playing on his lips. He turns his mismatched eyes on Jessice, lifting one brow. "If only we were destined for such glorious battle, Jessica Drew! Nay. We are more tourists in this land."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
"I'd need a hat with horns," Jess observes thoughtfully. "I'm still not sure I'd fit in..." She grins up at Thor. She is becoming fascinated, however, with the new sights, even if she sticks close to Thor. "I could be fierce. I'm sure of it!" Fierce hasn't been in her wheelhouse until recently, however. She was fierce last night, though. And she shows signs of it taking a toll on her. Her face is somewhat pale and gaunt, despite her upbeat demeanor. She looks...haunted.

"So what do you do when you're here? It's beautiful, what we've seen already. It seems so much more...low key than New York. Really a nice change of pace..."

Thor has posed:
    The comment about a hat with horns only has the Thunder God's grin growing lopsided, his mismatched eyes gleaming with mirth as he shakes his head. He has half a mind to manifest his divine helm, just to plop it on her head, but thinks the better of it. She does have a point, though, and he gives her an upnod of his bearded chin, and points a finger at her, which sort of gestures up and down with a wiggle. "Aye, Lady. You may find that your garb is not the common attire of the typical Icelandic mortal, for good or ill."

    Thor has noted the look in Jess' eyes. The pallor of her face, and those dark bags. He's no stranger to that look. Far, far from it. Nay, Thor knows it all too well. It's the look that most of those who survived Ragnarok had borne for so long after that life changing trauma. He finds himself reaching over, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving a firm squeeze.

    "You are fierce, Jessica Drew. Fierce as any Valkyrie. A warrior born. This is why I have chosen you as my consort."

    He is likely joking. Maybe.

    "When I'm here, I mostly fish. Sometimes I do other things. Mundane things. Simple. Relaxing. It is where I come to remember a time when this world was still one of tranquility. For as bloody as it was, there were no glistening towers of steel and glass. The electric hum of power didn't drown out the sound of the stars in the sky. You could hear them, back then."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
"You could hear the stars..." Jessica muses quietly, looking up toward the sky. "That's amazing, and so lovely." His hand on her shoulder seems to comfort and cheer her. "And here I thought it was just my child bearing hips." She winks and turns to walk backwards in front of him, keeping up with his stride. "To be honest, however, all this..." Jess points her finger and wiggles it as well. "Does not seem like the common attire, either. Though...I guess you wouldn't need to dress as a mortal here, would you? They worship you here...And I don't mean the same way we worship you back home." It's easy to forget she's in the presence of divinity, sometimes.

Thor has posed:
    "Do not fear, Lady of Spiders. The God of Thunder still bears a deeply abiding appreciation for your child-bearing hips! Nor shall he ever forget it. Not when you stride before him, at the very least!" Thor retorts, tit for tat. As she takes the lead before him, the hulking figure of the Nordic Avenger folds his thick arms behind his back, canting his head to one side, and watching her with keen interest. When she points out his attire, the Odinson peers down at himself, and the garb he wears. His arms held out to either side of himself, he questions, "This is traditional wear for an Asgardian warrior. I do, perhaps, have a keener eye for fashion than most ofmy ilk. They tend to favor lots of gold."

    He makes a wincing smile, pinching two fingers together before his face and adding, "I find it a wee bit tacky, personally."

    The remark about being worshipped, however, has the humor draining from Thor's face quickly. While his tone becomes more somber, it is not grim. Just... reserved. He gives a quick glance around, and lifts a single one of those door wide shoulders. "People worship, yes. Though not anywhere near all of them. This place has it's fair share of being dominated by the Christian faith, as well as the atheists and agnostics, same as anywhere else in the Western world today. Though, you strike my curiosity, Jessica Drew. How does one worship me "back home", anyway?"

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
"Aww haven't you noticed the way the ladies watch you when you pass?" Jess chides playfully, trying to lift his spirits again. "And then sayeth they, once they have filled their eyes with thine countenance and thine fabulous physique, 'Oh. My. God.' and thus they do worship."

Jess slows down a little, letting him gain on her a step or two. "Although I would imagine that many a young lady can think of a multitude of ways to do so, if she ever got the chance." Her grin is mischievous, her eyes sparkling.

Thor has posed:
    When Jessica starts to tell him of the way that women react to him, Thor's face quirks in such a way that one eyebrow hikes upwards, while the other lowers, and his grin pulls sharp to one side. Her impersonation of his less-frequently-used All-Speak elicits a deep chuckle that rumbles like distant thunder from the pit of his stomach, and he finds himself lowering his gaze to one side, shaking his head.

    "Nay. I do not feel that such a thing is true. The women of Midgard pay me no more mind than any other. If I receive any undue adulation, it is only due to my role as an Avenger, and as a King."

    He does look back up at her, though, his eyes looking sharp, as if they might strip away the useless bits of fabric and flesh that cover her, open up the bone and peer directly into the ephemeral stuff of her very soul. His own smile has taken a rather rogueish quality, with a light in those soul piercing eyes.

    "Though, I beg, do regale me with tales of all the ways that a young lady such as yourself might worship me, if given the chance. You have rather piqued my curiosity, and it now demands satiation."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
"Tsk...my Dear Thor, far be it from me to expound upon the desires of the young ladies who have such thoughts in their heads. I'm no telepath, but I'm certain I have seen those looks from dozens. Even so recently as the beach. While you were looking with watchful eyes on the young girl who vanquished a pirate, there were at least half a dozen ladies who were watchful upon you. And one waiter on rollerskates named Quinc'ee. He wasn't a young lady, but he certainly had the look in his eye." She grins and turns, leading the way boldly now. "Besides, what sort of lady would /I/ be if I spoke of such indiscretion in mixed company?"

Thor has posed:
    That reply only receives a chuffing balk from the Norse God of Thunder. His eyes roll and he shakes his head, reaching up with one hand to comb his thick fingers through his spiky, sandy blonde hair. "For the record... Though my tastes may run only towards those who proclaim and present themselves as women, The Mighty Thor feels no shame when gazed upon with wonderment and desire by other men. Nay, it is rather flattering, in fact. I am certain that this Quinc'ee was a fine young man."

    Thor's stride brings him even closer still, just outside of the range where he'd have to walk awkwardly so that their feet didn't get tangled together as they step. That shrewd stare maintains unwavering eye contact, as if there was a direct magnetic attraction that kept their attention glued to one another, and that he would not allow her to relent and look away.

    "I only noticed one lady whom had their eye upon me at the beach. Because I, in turn, only had my eye on one. I care not for what others might wish of me or upon me. I seek only her counsel on what it is that her desires speak of. Which is why I ask her of them now."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
"Ohh, I thought you just wanted a bite of my funnel cake," Jessica replies with a grin. But she's noticed Thor is getting closer, and she can feel herself flushing pink with his more direct line of questioning. "Well, I mean..." she tries to steal a glance behind her to make sure her path is still clear, but her vivid green eyes are locked on Thor's mismatched gaze. She can't bring herself to look away, even though it is at this moment her strongest instinct. "I try not to have such thoughts, because men are incensed by my uh..." She loses her pacing, and begins to look less steady in her retreat from his stride directly in front of her. The phero--" and as her heel hits a rock, she stumbles and lands directly on her behind. "Ow..." She rubs her tush. "My child bearing hips!"

Thor has posed:
    Thor is not letting up. If anything, there is a subtle shift in his posture that does the opposite. His chin raises ever so slightly higher. His shoulders square off, shifting back ever so slightly as his spine straightens. He seems imperious. Larger than life. He looks the role of a God as much as he lives it. But his smile never wavers, be it what it is. Nor does his eyelock on her own.

    And then she takes a spill.

    Thor's gait halts completely as he looks down at her, likely as startled by this turn of events as she is. He nearly recreates the White Guy Blinking meme perfectly, before he reaches out his hand... and thinks better of it. Instead, he turns and settles down on the ground beside her, with his knees to his chest, and wrapping his arms around them. "Jessica Drew, how astute you must be. You have found the perfect location to sit and take a break!"

    Casting a sidelong glance, he lowers his voice, speaking more softly, "I am no mortal man. Your pheromones are nothing to The Mighty Thor."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
"I know," Jess says softly, fretting at her bottom lip as she sits up and leans against Thor's shoulder. "It's just habit. I protect myself from..." She trails off, her brow furrowing, but only for a moment before it rises again, and her eyes become more intent and sincere. But I'm not afraid of you," she shares hesitantly, looking up into his face. She draws her knees up as well, and sits likewise, still watching his eyes. "It's beautiful...You can see forever here," she utters softly, without looking away.

Thor has posed:
    Thor doesn't ruin her confession with words. Nor does he disturb the sentiment. He remains silent, being a solid bulwark for her to lean again in silence and comfort. At least for a few moments. Something in what she has said stirs Thor to rousing from his seat. As he stands, one of those impossibly powerful arms curls around her back, lifting her up and against his side,so that she rises to stand with him.

    "Hold on tight, Lady of Spiders."

    He extends his other arm out to his side, his hand open. There is a distant sound, almost a humming ring that grows louder by the second, until Mjolnir barrels at them with the speed of a meteor. Thor catches the hammer as it flies past, and, holding Jessica to his side, the pair are swept up off of the ground at breakneck speeds by the soaring weapon.

    Up and up they rise, where the air still carries a crisp chill, though still, at this time of year, it isn't unpleasant. And within less than a few moments, miles have passed by them far below. Miles of mountains and springs, and fields, with very little in the way of urban landscapes. Even the small towns here look antiquated. Rustic. At one with nature than standing in defiance of it.

    But, they touch down, on the side of a relatively low mountain peak, its side grassy and sloped, dotted with bright blue, fresh blooming flowers. At the foot of the mountain lies a sleepy little village filled with huts with grass covered roofs. A river runs through this valley, and across the way from them, there is a beautiful waterfall, for which this town is known for. However, from this peak, hilly mountains seem to stretch on for miles in all directions. Some rocky and craggy. Others grassy and beflowered such as this one. But the horizon seems endless, and for that entire horizon, there is almost no other sign of life. Just a select handful of roads, carved like scars into the beauty of nature.

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
Jessica is still holding tight to Thor as they touch down, and she smiles, her eyes beaming as she takes in the countryside. "This...this is breathtaking," she remarks, clearly in awe. "Why can't I live someplace like this, instead of in my big empty house in New York?" It's only then that she realizes she's /still/ holding on, and at least loosens her hold. "Is this more like what you'd call home?" she asks with a curious glint in her eyes as her gaze finally looks up to catch his again.

Thor has posed:
    "I see no reason why you could not," Thor remarks, with a shrug of his shoulders. If he's eager for her to release him, then his actions betray that, as he still keeps his meaty arm loosely around her back, his hand curled around her side, so that she's held to him. "Though New York has its own unique charm. It is a true hub of life on Midgard. So much revolves around it. There is always something to be excited about, is there not?"

    Her question about what he might call him brings a tint to his gaze. A mournful quality, found only in the corners of his eyes where the flesh bunches up to form crow's feet. His serene smile stays plastered firmly in place, though, and he gives one single shake of his head. "Nay. Asgard was like nothing this world has ever seen. It was a place of magic and wonder. A city of gold. Rivers that ran so so clear that you might not even notice that they ran. Forests teeming with so much life that everywhere you look, there was some forest inhabitant going about its life. This?"

    He gives an upnod to the scenic little village. "This is something else altogether. This is where I might like to have a home. A place to be away from it all. And from here, one can see the Aurora Borealis nearly every night! Save for the nights of the full moon, where instead, one is treated to the moon's own rainbow near the waterfall."

    He turns his gaze back on to Jessica, and says, "This might not be home,but it is serenity."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
"I'm sorry for your loss, Thor." Jessica's expression is somewhat pained by the ounce of pain in his own gaze. "I never mean to make it harder, although I doubt that anyone truly has that ability. I would do anything, any day for the rest of my life, if I could take it from you instead." Her eyes are transparent and sincere. "But you have accomplished more than anyone else ever could have, and I admire you for that strength and providence." She lays her head against his chest for a moment, taking in the beauty of the scene here. "Living here...would be the most amazing experience of many lifetimes. One could definitely do worse for herself. But now I have to see the Aurora...and the moon." She smiles gently at the thought.

Thor has posed:
    The sentiment shared with him only draws forth one of those strained smiles that one expects to be given when they say much the same thing at a funeral. That smile that is offered because it is polite, and because the kindness is welcome, but the smile is forced, nonetheless, due to the circumstances. He opens his mouth as if he might speak, but thinks better of it, and simply closes his lips once again, giving a silent nod of his head. The statement that he had accomplished more than anyone else ever could have makes him feel so very small. He's a King who failed his way up to his position. He had lost before he ever even gained the throne. His taking of the throne was an act of defeat.

    "It's... It's alright. You know?" He finally manages, his deep, gruff voice sounding more strained. His jaw sets tight at the corners as he nods his head, staring off into the distance. "It's alright. I cannot say that I lost much. Others certainly more than I. Asgard is its people. Its not a place."

    He does not mention his father.

    Her head on his chest, however, draws forth a deep, soul weary sigh. That hand curled around her side instead rises to rest the bottom of his forearm against her back, up her neck,so that he might loosely rest his open palm over the top ofher head. His thick fingers curl and relax, slowly, rhythmically, drawing blunted nails lightly over her scalp, the pads of his fingertips massaging the flesh.

    "It will be dark enough soon..."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
Jess nods slightly against his chest. She knows well what it is he is feeling, but she also knows that there are no words in this world that can be offered, which will bring peace to his heart. That's how loss works.

"I'm not going anywhere, Thor. And when the the sun goes down, I'll still be here. And someday, we'll hear the stars again. I promise."

Thor has posed:
    Thor is okay with this. This silent understanding. Not pressing him to talk about it. Not pushing any "thoughts and prayers" upon him. Ackowledging that he doesn't want to ackowledge it. This, he could use more of. His eyes fall closed, and he rests his chin atop his hand which is, in turn, atop her skull.

    "And maybe someday, Jessica Drew, you may find yourself living in one of those grassy huts down there," Thor remarks quietly, "Spinning webs into nets and teaching schoolchildren how to catch the fish from the waterfall."

    Of course he hadn't forgotten that moment that had earned her the moniker fishbane. His lips curl into a small smile, and he opens his eyes half mast to peer out across the distance, down the field of blue flowers, and down to where the sun begins to set behind those rolling peaks of volcanic mountain.

    "Do not think that I have forgotten, though," He warns. "I still demand to know the answer to my earlier inquiry."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
Jessica evades the question for the moment. "You remember that day..." She smiles. "I might still scare the fishes. But I could definitely live with making my home in a cottage down there. Become a webweaver, and make tapestries. Nevermind that no one may want them." She draws a slow breath and exhales, giving his midsection a squeeze. Then she grins and looks up at Thor. "What sound did the stars make?"

Thor has posed:
    "Ahhh... The subtle use of artful deflection. I know it well. My brother is a master of it," Thor remarks after Jessica speaks of weaving tapestries and webs. But he won't chide her much. Letting it fall to the wayside, he instead indulges her flight of fancy, commenting, "The hoar frost that sweeps through these mounts in the winter months, where the sun rises naught, is akin to the breath of Ymir himself. Anyone, be they God or Man, would be a damnable fool to shun the works of a weaver's loom. You might find your talents well rewarded in such a place as this. Indeed, Jessica Drew, with your most comely mien and affable personality, combined with such a useful skill, I'd place coin that you would quickly rise to be the subject of quite the challenge, with men and women alike seeking to catch your eye and champion your affection."

    The squeeze to his midsection is reciprocated with the faintest of returns, more a matter of simply pressing her head closer against the solid surface of his expansive chest. As she looks up at him, and asks that question, of what the stars sounded like on nights where even the creatures of the night were still, and the snow dulled all sound to an absolute, tranquil silence, Thor casts his eye up to the Heavens, where the darkening sky is speckled with gauzy ribbons of twinkling stars, and shades of blues and purples, that along the far horizon, become the brilliant oranges of a dying fire, with pillowy clouds of white painting streams of vanilla cream throughout it.

    He looks at the burgeoning night sky, and it's multitude of stars out here in this place where light pollution is all but unknown, and he seems to pensive, as he thinks of how best to answer her question.

    In the end, he begins to hum. It's a low thing, at first. So very quiet. Just a single note, stretching on. And then it dips lower for a few seconds, before resuming it's original tone. This steady, rhythmic alteration happens twice, before he starts with a nasal-laden voice, "Ground Control to Major Tom... Ground Control to Major Tom... Take your protein pills and put your helmet on... Ground Control to Major Tom."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
Jessica giggles softly, a sound like shining bubbles, caught in a drafty upward spiral and mounting up into the fiery evening sky.

"My affections would not so easily be won, Dear Thor. Because I fear they would already be spoken for, and an Icelandic woman has space enough in her heart only for one. And if she must carry that love alone, so be it. Because it will show in every thread of every tapestry. It will shine like the heavens, and glisten in each thread like spun white gold. Because a woman needs to find a place to hold a love like that, so it can never be denied that it existed, even if she should meet her demise alone. A heart is never big enough to contain it. So it must be continuously spun in filament upon filament and stored up in things of beauty. It will be my legacy."

Thor has posed:
    And here he was putting her on with a Bowie joke.

    Jessica lets loose the words of her heart and her thoughts on love and expression, and Thor is left almost reeling from it. As she speaks, the Thunderer's posture shifts, his spine slowly arching backward like a bowstring being drawn taut to let loose and arrow, if only so that he might shift back to better take her measure as she speaks.

    "You have the heart and tongue of a poet," he quietly declares, when said heart and tongue fall still. His eyes look her up and down, still with a look of surprise, though not unpleasant. "With passions that run that deep, deeper than the roots of the Worlds Tree, and passion that burns hotter than the lifesblood of fire giants, woe to any man who should rebuff you and your affections. They shall not know what they have lost."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
Jess smiles and shakes her head. "I've not professed affections for another since I was too young to know better," Jess replies. "Yet you're overfull of words no less beautiful, but even more so, because they burn with intensity that, were the sunflower given the choice, it would turn its back on the sun, seeking instead your face." She holds to Thor, as her peace and his entwine. "It's a good thing gods don't fear fire giants, or the heat of their blood. Because that way when I do speak my affections, they will at least not fall on fleeing ears." She grins, looking back up into Thor's face.

Thor has posed:
    "It pleases Thor to no great end that he is able to inspire you to express your heart's truth, Jessica Drew," Thor returns, after she has praised his forthright and open manner of speaking. Her commentary on the nature of the sunflower elicits a strange feeling of humility. He's left smiling, despite himself, and turning his gaze to let it wander across the scenic display stretched before them, where the last, dying rays of light are more diminished that the glistening rainbow that they manage to cast by the roaring waterfall.

    She speaks of confessing her feelings, and to whom she might do so, and Thor, again, cranes his neck back, so that he might look down into her eyes as she peers up into his. His brows hike up, and his smile returns, genuine and warm, dimpling his cheeks and sparking a light in his dual toned eyes.

    "Ha! So it is a God that instill such ardent fervor within you! I must know who it is. I am certain that I could help you gain their attention! Is it Loki? So many women fall for my dear brother, though I fear he's a bit afraid of committment. No. I don't think he's your type at all. I'm going to say it must be Hercules!"

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
Jessica breathes a laugh, shaking her head at Thor's guesses. "Ohh. Thor." She laughs again, this time more in earnest. "I only know one of you, Thor. But one is enough. Isn't it obvious?" This time, she looks more intently into his eyes, but only for a brief moment. "But you're bound to be used to that by now.. It's like idle chatter coming from mortals all of the time. Skads of women, simply flinging themselves at your feet!"

Thor has posed:
    When she admits to having only known of him, laughing at his confusion, Thor's brows come crashing down in a scowl of thoughtfulness. There's not a hint of anger within his gaze. He simply searches her face for something. That intense glance that she breaks too swiftly is met, and the Thunder God tries to hold it, before she speaks once again.

    "No," he says, letting that "oh" at the end drag for just a second longer than normal. "It is not obvious. How would it be such an obvious thing? You have never spoken your hear to me in this way. We have known each other all this time, and how long have you harbored this yearning?"

    He looks away, his brows knitting together again, as he shakes his head. "I do not have "Skads" of anything falling at my feet, save for my foes, Jessica Drew. Women flock to the likes of Stark and Rogers. Most see me as a brutish relic of a bloody past."

    "They are not wrong."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
"Pff...I harbour everything. I carry around all my goodies and never tell a soul." Her expression is alight. "But you, Thor, are no relic. You're more like...one of those artifacts people go on expeditions to find. Except you're easy to find. Very tall. Easy to spot in any crowd." Jessica gives him a half-smile, and sighs. "You just don't believe in yourself enough. And the life you have right now isn't the one you deserve. You're just...something different. Fantastically different."

Thor has posed:
    The Thunder God's eyes narrow, trained solely on the green eyes of the fellow Avenger before him as she speaks. That narrowing does not come from a sense of anger or brooding, nor a sense of curiosity. It is keen attentiveness to what she has to say, with a hint of a fire resting just behind the surface that gives them a light, in spite of the weary crinkles that bunch up around their outer corners.

    "Aye, perhaps it is so," Thor replies, giving the faintest nod to accompany his concession to the insights she has to offer. "But how are you to speak of mine own belief in myself, when you, yourself, confess to have harbored this deep affection for me for some indeterminate amount of time. And still, when confessing, you deflect with gestures of self-defeat disguised as mirth and jocularity?"

    Odinson steps forward, encroaching upon Jessica's personal space with neither caution nor concern. Their bodies nearly touch, with nary an inch between them so that, what chill still carries on the winds in these mountainous, northern climes might be quelled by the warmth of his body heat suffusing her. The lingering vestige of his smile falls from his face as the last rays of light from the sun disappear behind jagged summit of the mountain range that lines it. As the twilight settles in with that bewitching periwinkle light, Thor's face seem pensive. Inquisitive.

    "And you, Jessica Drew," he says, that gruff, accented voice soft and quiet, barely spoken above the breath of a whisper. "Are you not both possessed of the fantastic and the different? Are you not worthy of believe in yourself? Would you consider yourself true to be among the "skads" of those who would admire me, and little more?"

    His hand, a rough thing of salt and sea, callused like the sands on the storm swept winds, finds purchase on her hip. It's a light touch, but arresting, his thick fingers curling about her to draw her in towards him. With the other, he cups her cheek, more careful so that the fine grit of his touch is balanced by the tenderness with which he handles her. As if she were something priceless and precious, but something that might easily break at the slightest mishandling. The pad of his thumb draws a fluttering half circles at the corner of her lips. And slowly, he leans in, his head canting to one side so that the tip of his straight nose brushes beside her own, and the delicate brush of satin soft mustache teases her cheek like a spectral caress.

    "Believe in yourself, as I believe in you."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
"I'm different, all right," Jessica replies, somewhat breathlessly. She fights the urge to faint at the mere proximity of anyone, much less a Thor. "I do believe in myself, but differently than most, I think." Talking keeps her from thinking. Or acting. But things being as they are, she's running out of things that her mind can divine to say. Everything is awash. Her brain was here a moment ago, she swears it.

With a moment of sudden clarity, she looks up into Thor's mismatched eyes. Intently, and for a long moment. "Fair warning, Thor," she begins quietly. "I'm broken."

Thor has posed:
    As Jessica speaks, Thor just waits, patient, listening. He understands that this is her process. This is her working through panic and uncertainty. And so, his eyes remain leveled upon hers, warm and inviting, and never once wavering or reflecting a moment of annoyance, confusion or apprehension. He simply nods his head, staring from this far-too-close vantage into her eyes.

    "Nay," he says, and though his voice is the silky purr of a contented lion, the intonation brooks no argument. It's not a denial, it is a proclamation. That hand that cups her cheek, the thumb that toys with the corner of her lips... it rises, combing his broad fingers through her raven locks, with his blunted nails drawing across her scalp. Sweeping her bangs from her temple, and exposing more of her face, the Thunderer shakes his head and says, "You are not broken, Jessica Drew. Objects are broken. People are not. People know hurt. They know fear. Uncertainty. The bear scars of trauma and grief. But these are the things that forge a person into who they be, for good or ill. Some weaken for the experience. Others rise. You be not broken. Far from it. You are merely on the rise."

    With that, Thor leans back, putting some more distance between lips that threaten to brush against one another with every spoken syllable. That hand in her hair falls, first to her shoulder, gripping it firmly for a singular squeeze, and then dropping to his side. The other hand, curled about her hip, gives a faint pull to bump her hips against his own, before it, too, trails away. Now, where once the invasion of her personal space by the Thunder God might have been a thing that brought to keen focus the radiance of his warmth, that nearly imperceptible distance in the loss of contact screams for the faint chill of its loss to be noticed.

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
"No. This isn't the way it's supposed to be." Jessica sighs, and looks back up into Thor's eyes, her own darting between the blue and amber. She lifts a hand to gentle it against his cheek, her brow furrowed as the chilly wind tosses her hair heedlessly. Her other hand lifts as if to find its place, but try as she might, she cannot find a place - his arm at his side now impedes it, and she finds herself at a loss.

"You promised the Aurora," she explains. "And we were supposed to kiss."

Thor has posed:
    When Jessica seems distraught by the retreat of the Norse God, he watches her with an inscrutable look in his eyes. Her touch to his cheek, that thick beard that is so silken and soft, despite how coarse and rugged it looks, is welcomed by the simplicity of the way that he presses in against her palm. Her other hand, rising with uncertainty as to its destination is captured at the wrist, dwarfed by the fingers that curl around it gingerly. He guides her to rest her palm over his breast, against the smooth, velvety soft black leather of his armor.

    "The Odinson does not lightly pledge an oath, Jessica Drew, and once he does, there are few forces in all the Realms that may force him to break it."

    His touch graces the underside of her chin, and tips her face towards the darkening sky. There, overhead, as the final dying gasps of light turn the star filled sky from the dusky hues of twilight, to the deep, rich purples and blues of the night sky, a shimmering ribbon of greens and blues is just beginning to waver and gain luminescence. It looks as though a serpentine specter is making a slow, but steady attempt at manifesting at the peak of the world.

    With her gaze directed heavenward, there is a rustle of flesh and fabric, while the incredibly thick trunk of his arm winds around her waist, drawing her in against his body. His embrace is certain, without hesitation, and he presses her to him with a firm grip that falls just shy of being considered crushing. He leans in, and this time, he does not hover or tease. His lips find purchase upon hers with the same quality as his embrace. Firm, almost so much so that they might feel the faint outline of one another's teeth against their lips. His back arches, so that he might stand up tall, lifting her smaller form from the ground to equal his height, while he buries his free hand in the thick, dark hair at the back of her skull.

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
Her eyes turn to the night sky, and Jessica gasps at the enormous nature of the aurora's beauty. Her eyes follow the ribbons like tranquil and silent rivers across the sky, and she smiles. In this moment, she is filled with something larger than herself, and it refills her, seemingly covering the cracks and filling them as newfallen snow evens the landscape and silences the voices from beneath. And then, there is his kiss.

And therein, Jessica finds the torrent of emotion, raw and unyielding, that she could not but expect. There is no warning. With hand pressed against his chest, she slides the other up his cheek and over to the back of his hair, cradling him close as she returns his kiss unreservedly. And with one swift crash, her walls are swept away by the torrent - every misgiving, every fear, and every quieted desire. The devastation is complete, and beautiful. And what is left behind is peace, and silence, and light. The aurora in her own darkness. He had promised, after all. And the Odinson does not lightly pledge an oath.

Thor has posed:
    That kiss, filled with unreserved and unchecked passion, lingers for what might seem an eternity, though that eternity seems to slip by too soon. Jessica's shattering walls of restraint and doubt are met only by the Lightning-Bringer's acceptance and his strength. There is no doubt to be found in him. No uncertainty in that electrifying contact. He holds no guile for her. Exposed, like a raw nerve, his affection and desire are put on display in equal measure by the fierceness of his lips pressing to hers, and the fervor with which the velveteen muscle of his tongue passes beyond them, to seek out hers in a languid, sensual dance.

    But all things, good and ill, must come to an end. And so does this kiss follow that one simple rule. It breaks, as Thor's lips retreat, drawn tight against bared teeth that capture the plump, glistening flesh of her bottom lip and give a tug, pulling taut until her flesh snaps free. Another, more fleeting kiss follows, soothing whatever aches his bite might have made, before he finally opens his eyes of rust and summer to peer upon her countenance with a look of open admiration.

    "Nay." He whispers quietly, before his forehead touches to hers. "Not broken. Far from broken."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
When the kiss ends, the spell does not, and Jessica leans her head against Thor's chest, tucking in beneath his chin. She listens for the powerful thrum of his heart from beyond the velveteen leather, as she wraps arms around him tightly. There are so many things that she could say - about how long it has been since she trusted a soul. About how ardent her crusade had been against lowering her defenses. About how she can't believe this new turn of events. In the end, however, none of it matters. He knows all of the important things, these among them. And somehow, she's at peace with that.

Jessica moves her head enough to turn her gaze back to the skies for a drawn-out moment, then looks back to Thor. "It's such a beautiful show," she says softly, her smile painted with an undertone of mischieous mirth. "But what do you watch when it rains?"

Thor has posed:
    As she rests her head to his chest, the sound of his heart is the sound of a war drum, deep and resonant, and calling to the sound of thunder of the winter seas. He cradles her head there in the palm of his large hand, and he breathes in deep with content as her arms wind their way about his mighty trunk. His eyes fall closed, and his beardly chin rests atop the crown of her head.

    He wants to say something. Vomit forth all the words and thoughts that fill the divine ichor that courses through his mind. He wants to swear oaths to be by her side always, a constant companion and friend. He wants to assure her with words that which he knows he can only assure through deeds. That her trust is cherished, and shall not be betrayed willingly. But, he knows that such words are beautiful to hear, but can ring hollow in the wounded heart. So he still his tongue and allows the warmth and tenderness of his embrace to speak for him.

    "Mostly Chopped," Thor replies to her question of what he watches when it rains. "The other night, I saw one where the mystery basket had peanut butter and rainbow trout as key ingredients. I was rather flummoxed by what the contestants might do with such a disparate basket."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
Jessica loses all composure in a fit of soft laughter that causes tears to well within her eyes. The laughter fades, but the tears do not. She leans back, still holding tightly to him, and shakes her head. "Please, please, please tell me someone made a peanut butter and trout sandwich. I think that would make my entire night complete. I could die a happy woman."

Thor has posed:
    "Well, funny you should ask," Thor says, his eyes alighting almost instantly, his face cracking with an earnest smile. Suddenly, he is very animated, his back arching and his hands leaving her so he might gesticulate as he prattles on. "So, this one lady, whom I will admit, I didn't take to very well, as she was a bit mean spirited with her competitiveness... I mean, healthy competition and feeling the need to dominate your opponents is one thing, but this woman would argue with the judges about how her mistakes were virtues, when compared to the other contestants and it was all just ugly and mean, and Darryl and I both agreed that we hoped she got chopped in the appetizer round, but I digress! You see, she made a bacon wrapped pan seared trout fillet, with caramelized onion and a peanut butter and grape jelly sauce, on a brioche roll, and despite her unpleasant demeanor, I was taken aback by how delicious it looked."

    Thor looks back to Jessica, still beaming from ear to ear as a great and heavy sigh escapes him. His hands come to rest on her shoulders, curling about her upper arms gently. "Oh... That was a good episode. If you should ever come to visit me in New Asgard, we can use Daryll's account on the Hulu so that we might watch it together. Then, perhaps some Letterkenny."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
Jessica watches Thor's antimated demeanor as he goes about describing the entirety of the episode. A slow smile spreads across her face, betraying her increasing enjoyment as he regales her of the tale, but also as she observes a level of comfort, and dare she suspect a modicum of happiness, that she's not seen in him in awhile. Maybe he had floodgates of his own. Or maybe he just really likes PB & J & T.

"I'd love to see New Asgard. It's been a long while since I was there, and I'm sure it's come a long way since the beginning stages I have seen. Besides, the idea of getting to watch a horrible cooking show with you is quite more than I dare to refuse." She considers the ease with which the plans roll off her tongue, and realizes the size of such a simple miracle. "As long as Darryl doesn't mind, of course," she adds with a smirk. "I wouldn't want him put out with you for having company."

Thor has posed:
    "Good. I shall like to have you a my guest, Jessica Drew," Thor says, his demeanor settling into a less animated, more gentle disposition once more, as he regards her. "You need not fear. Darryl has his own space. I miss the life of being flatmates, but it is unbecoming of a King."

    "Or so I am told. Repeatedly. By my brother."

    His broad shoulders rise and fall with a shrug that could lift mountains, and he turns his gaze from her, sweeping out across the waves of shadowed blue flowers that lilt endlessly to and fro with the wind. "I simply steal his streaming services now. He doesn't mind. I even have my own profiles."

    Turning his attention back on to Jessica, Thor guides her to his side, so that he might grab hold of the hem of his cape and draw it up and around her shoulders along with his arm.

    "I hope this night has served you well. Has the God of Thunder delivered on his promises to your satisfaction, or is there more he ought do?"

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
Jessica leans in close as his arm and cape are drawn around her. She, in turn, wraps her arms around his waist to lean her head against his shoulder. There's no consideration before she replies to his query. Only an unexpected shiver, as she realizes how cold she had been until his embrace. "You've done more tonight than I ever thought any one man could." She looks up to him with a serene expression in green eyes that reflect the moonlight and aurora. "You obliterated impenetrable walls without the help of your hammer. Tonight, in this place, with you, I cannot think of anywhere I would rather be." Her promises, too, remain unspoken. She can only hope that such oaths are written in her gaze, and upon her face. Promises for a future, both near and distant, that will be put to purpose with her every action.

"Tonight, I am truly happy."

Thor has posed:
    Thor listens to her. Not solely her words, which are sweet enough, like cold mead after a long and arduous journey. No, the sentiment. He listens to her heart, laced within those words. He listens and he swells with pride. Not the boastful pride of his warrior's bearing. The kind of pride that would have him puffing his chest, and speaking of himself with loud booming voices. The simple pride of someone who feels complete for having truly brought some measure of joy into the life of another. There is little in all the Realms that might compete with such elation.

    "Then I, too, am happy," He says simply, as the heavy weight of his arm across her shoulders draws tighter, drawing his cape more fully about her person, while serving the purpose of keeping her close. His head turns, and his lips find themselves pressed into her hair, lingering there for just long enough for him to inhale her scent.

    "We should, however, see you inside, lest you catch cold. I thought we might linger out here for too long, so I took the initiative to book us an Airbnb nearby."

Spider-Woman (Drew) has posed:
Jessica nods quietly, her eyes still closed from the warmth of his lips in her hair. "That sounds nice. But even better, it sounds warm." She makes no move to depart, however. She lingers a moment longer, her eyes turned to the sky, watching the serpentine windings of those vibrant ribbons of light. "Do you ever tire of watching the aurora?" she asks. "I can't imagine ever tiring of it. But then, I have never seen it before. Maybe after a few thousand times, perhaps even something so beautiful can become mundane..."

Thor has posed:
    "Mm," Thor considers, as he lifts his head, raising his eyes back to the sky, and those shimmering streams of multihued light that roil and undulate so slowly, like passing mists. Another smile takes his lips, and he muses, "After several millennia spent among the Nine Realms, this sight is one that is still as beautiful as it ever was. Midgard has changed, and the rest of it, even its stars, are no longer the same as it was in times past, but the aurora remains magnificent."

    A pause.

    "The Norsemen believed it was the Bifrost, with good reason," He remarks, giving a chuffing sound that might have been a laugh. "They do look similar. But no. I do not grow tired of looking upon it. I think it reminds me, too, of the Bifrost, and the Asgard that once was."

    He raises the hand that isn't holding his companion close to his side, and Mjolnir flitters up with a ringing sound from the ground and into his grasp. His wrist spins, just three times, setting the iconic weapon spinning with enough force that it chops the air, leaving a seemingly ethereal disk of spectral hammers in its wake. She'll feel his arm drop from her shoulder, curling about her waist and gripping her firmly as he gives a powerful swing upwards.

    They rocket skyward at impossible speeds. Speeds that, by all rights, dash their bones against the wind itself, while stealing the breath from their lungs. And yet there is little but a strong breeze that accosts the pair as they ascend, leaving the mountainside behind, its silent fields of blue flowers waving a lazy goodbye. So high, they reach, that it might seem as if Jessica could reach out and touch the aurora borealis itself, if she were inclined to try.

    But their skybound jaunt is a short lived one. Little more than a leap of a few miles or so. Their descent carries them down to a small farm, just outside of that village they had spied in the valley near the waterfall. Small, and quaint, the home that they land before, in a gravel driveway, is a one story affair with blue grey siding and a corrugated tin roof, and a low, flat deck that serves as the front porch. There is little else but rolling fields and the mountains around them, save for an older looking farmhouse across the highway from them.

    "There now," Thor says as he eases his grasp on Jessica. "I shall set a fire in the hearth and find us some blankets and hot cocoa. We might sit out here and observe the sky for as long as you yet desire."