[ it's easy to get lost in the streets of new york. much like the old streets of asgard, the winding halls of the palace โ there are no golden spires in what humans call the big apple (and thor still has yet to understand how the city resembles an apple), but the buildings tower as close to the sky as humans can imagine, and it almost feels like home, in one way or another, even with the strange sort of fame that comes from being a god and an avenger. it isn't the attention he seeks, though; or, at least, it's a different kind of attention than that which his people want from him. they need him to solve their problems. here, the humans just want to take photos as evidence that they've met the mighty thor. ]
[ he doesn't always do it on purpose, let the streets lead him from one place to the next with no real destination, but today he just needs to get away from it all for even a moment, just to have time to breathe. his people will understand, surely. after all they've lost, they all need time to ... adjust. to settle. to rebuild, physically and emotionally. asgard isn't a place, but its people do need a place, to live and carry on. and they have, so far, in a rural place called oklahoma, thanks in part to the efforts of tony stark. but even in a city bustling with people rebuilding their lives, there comes a time when the quiet seeps in like a cold wind, a reminder that there are fewer of them now, and that nothing will ever be the same. ]
[ new york is louder. full of horns blaring and the scuffle of hundreds of feet on pavement, flashing lights and billboards that advertise products, shows, stores thor has never heard of. it reminds him of how little time he's spent on midgard, how little he knows of its people. he will never be one of them โ and on most occasions, his attempts to blend in with them are futile, given who he is and how recognizable he is with or without the cape, even with the significant changes to his appearance โ but he can learn to appreciate them more, these people who look at him and see the thing they could only hope to be. (it surprises him still how powerful the human conviction can be, how they are willing to risk everything for the things they believe in.) ]
[ even without mjolnir, or the bifrost, getting to the city isn't hard. stephen strange offered him a bit of portal magic in return for his word that he would keep a watchful eye on his brother, and that if he ever needed assistance, the portal would take him to and from new york. he hasn't once used it for the purpose of seeking out strange's help, but it makes these bouts to the city more convenient than they would have been otherwise. ]
[ the people often blur together after some time, but something familiar prickles his skin as he makes his way down the street, dressed to match the locals in their business attire, as if he's off to meet someone important for lunch. he has no one to meet, and nowhere to go to, and yet he feels as if he is headed toward someone, or something, no longer aimlessly wandering the streets in search of something he won't find. there's a pull in his chest, almost like home is calling to him. ]
[ then he sees her. she doesn't look different, not as drastically as he does. she's exactly as he remembers her, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, her presence intimidating the very air around her. he can't believe it. for a moment, he doesn't. the lady sif, here. in new york. it seems โฆ too good to be true. and yet his heart swells and he finds himself rushing forward, calling her name, with a smile as broad as his shoulders. ]
Lady Sif! [ there's joy underneath the relief of seeing her, alive, but it barely masks the apprehension of the thought of explaining what's happened โ why he looks like this, why he's here and not avenging, what's become of asgard. still, he won't let a reunion like this go to waste. he claps his hands on her shoulders amiably, looking her over as if to convince himself it's really her. ] It's good to see you. [ a beat. loki had said something about banishment, but he hadn't specified where, and until now thor hadn't had time to consider asking. besides, knowing sif, she wouldn't have simply sat around. he suspects this whole time she's been trying to find a way back to asgard. nevertheless, ] What are you doing on Midgard?
[ lady sif has been in new york city for longer than she would like to admit. her banishment had come with more than an acceptable amount of anger, anger at odin, anger at asgard, anger at loki, because she knows that it had more to do with that god of mischief than anything. she doesn't know why, doesn't know where how, because the rumor's of loki's death had been spread and known in asgard by that time, but she knew - a deep curling in her gut, an unsettling motion in her chest. heimdall given her a reassuring nod before she had been sent off through the bifrost, before the shock of the whole ordeal had worn off, and she'd been sent. to the far reaches, to the furthest galaxy.
she knows, like she knows most thing, that heimdall had done what he could for her. and that it hadn't just been the hands of fate that left her off in mitgard. that, when she came back from the sudden shift of transportation, it was to a familiar landscape. she knows that if loki had anything to say about it, she would not have ended up here. not somewhere she knew, not somewhere so close to others who could figure this out, who could come to understand why and how and when. but she was thankful for the knowing eyes on her back, thankful that even in this time of betrayal, of being told never to come home, she could at least set foot on familiar soil.
( she had wished for thor so much in those final moments, had wished for his sudden return in hopes that maybe he could see what was happening and stop it before it got out of hand. she had known he wouldn't hear, that he wouldn't return, as his missions were important for all of asgard and the universe at large.
but still, a part of her had hoped. )
new york in and of itself was a mess. it always felt that way, when she had been here before, and the longer she spent the more it felt the truth. people, buildings, heroes, criminals, rushing around her at all times and all ways. it had taken some getting used to, as she garnered more attention than she wanted to no matter her attempts to blend in, but she managed it. it has been some time, after all, and she is nothing if not adaptable. she still hasn't been sure of her position - her interactions with the avengers every now, her understanding of the issues between tony stark and steve rogers, what has been happening, but she has an apartment. she has some steady work. she has been dealing with each day as it has come and she has missed home, desperately and wholly.
the lack of communication, truly, had been the most difficult part. she didn't know the state of her friends, the state of her home, and she didn't know - wouldn't know - unless someone found it fit to seek her out in her banishment. and maybe there was a part of her that hoped that by being at mitgard, that by being here in new york city, she would come across someone who would bring her home.
though, despite that hope, she doesn't expect her name to be called out to her over the crowds. so much that she almost doesn't even recognize it - her alias has been so different, and she's gotten so used to it, so familiar, that her name doesn't even get her attention. not at first. until she thinks, a moment or two later, that she freezes in her steps and turns back to the sound of it. she might have just heard it, the first few months she lived here in new york city she thought she heard her name everywhere, thought she saw her friends in everyone.
so when she does turn, seeing thor rushing after her, she almost doesn't believe it. ]
Wha- [ her eyes widen, still not convinced until his hands clasp over her shoulders, and he's solid, and he's there, and he's asking her about what she's doing here and that it's good to see her and she just can't. quite. ]
What happened to your hair? [ is the first question that comes out, despite her attention behind elsewhere. ] And your eye? [ she reaches out to set her hand on his cheek, her brow furrowed as she examines the patch. the spot. he looks like allfather she thinks briefly, before she jerks herself out of the thought, because he asked her a question. because he's standing in front of her and looks like he belongs, and she can't quite wrap her head around it. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vomits words
[ he doesn't always do it on purpose, let the streets lead him from one place to the next with no real destination, but today he just needs to get away from it all for even a moment, just to have time to breathe. his people will understand, surely. after all they've lost, they all need time to ... adjust. to settle. to rebuild, physically and emotionally. asgard isn't a place, but its people do need a place, to live and carry on. and they have, so far, in a rural place called oklahoma, thanks in part to the efforts of tony stark. but even in a city bustling with people rebuilding their lives, there comes a time when the quiet seeps in like a cold wind, a reminder that there are fewer of them now, and that nothing will ever be the same. ]
[ new york is louder. full of horns blaring and the scuffle of hundreds of feet on pavement, flashing lights and billboards that advertise products, shows, stores thor has never heard of. it reminds him of how little time he's spent on midgard, how little he knows of its people. he will never be one of them โ and on most occasions, his attempts to blend in with them are futile, given who he is and how recognizable he is with or without the cape, even with the significant changes to his appearance โ but he can learn to appreciate them more, these people who look at him and see the thing they could only hope to be. (it surprises him still how powerful the human conviction can be, how they are willing to risk everything for the things they believe in.) ]
[ even without mjolnir, or the bifrost, getting to the city isn't hard. stephen strange offered him a bit of portal magic in return for his word that he would keep a watchful eye on his brother, and that if he ever needed assistance, the portal would take him to and from new york. he hasn't once used it for the purpose of seeking out strange's help, but it makes these bouts to the city more convenient than they would have been otherwise. ]
[ the people often blur together after some time, but something familiar prickles his skin as he makes his way down the street, dressed to match the locals in their business attire, as if he's off to meet someone important for lunch. he has no one to meet, and nowhere to go to, and yet he feels as if he is headed toward someone, or something, no longer aimlessly wandering the streets in search of something he won't find. there's a pull in his chest, almost like home is calling to him. ]
[ then he sees her. she doesn't look different, not as drastically as he does. she's exactly as he remembers her, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, her presence intimidating the very air around her. he can't believe it. for a moment, he doesn't. the lady sif, here. in new york. it seems โฆ too good to be true. and yet his heart swells and he finds himself rushing forward, calling her name, with a smile as broad as his shoulders. ]
Lady Sif! [ there's joy underneath the relief of seeing her, alive, but it barely masks the apprehension of the thought of explaining what's happened โ why he looks like this, why he's here and not avenging, what's become of asgard. still, he won't let a reunion like this go to waste. he claps his hands on her shoulders amiably, looking her over as if to convince himself it's really her. ] It's good to see you. [ a beat. loki had said something about banishment, but he hadn't specified where, and until now thor hadn't had time to consider asking. besides, knowing sif, she wouldn't have simply sat around. he suspects this whole time she's been trying to find a way back to asgard. nevertheless, ] What are you doing on Midgard?
who do you think you're even talking to
she knows, like she knows most thing, that heimdall had done what he could for her. and that it hadn't just been the hands of fate that left her off in mitgard. that, when she came back from the sudden shift of transportation, it was to a familiar landscape. she knows that if loki had anything to say about it, she would not have ended up here. not somewhere she knew, not somewhere so close to others who could figure this out, who could come to understand why and how and when. but she was thankful for the knowing eyes on her back, thankful that even in this time of betrayal, of being told never to come home, she could at least set foot on familiar soil.
( she had wished for thor so much in those final moments, had wished for his sudden return in hopes that maybe he could see what was happening and stop it before it got out of hand. she had known he wouldn't hear, that he wouldn't return, as his missions were important for all of asgard and the universe at large.
but still, a part of her had hoped. )
new york in and of itself was a mess. it always felt that way, when she had been here before, and the longer she spent the more it felt the truth. people, buildings, heroes, criminals, rushing around her at all times and all ways. it had taken some getting used to, as she garnered more attention than she wanted to no matter her attempts to blend in, but she managed it. it has been some time, after all, and she is nothing if not adaptable. she still hasn't been sure of her position - her interactions with the avengers every now, her understanding of the issues between tony stark and steve rogers, what has been happening, but she has an apartment. she has some steady work. she has been dealing with each day as it has come and she has missed home, desperately and wholly.
the lack of communication, truly, had been the most difficult part. she didn't know the state of her friends, the state of her home, and she didn't know - wouldn't know - unless someone found it fit to seek her out in her banishment. and maybe there was a part of her that hoped that by being at mitgard, that by being here in new york city, she would come across someone who would bring her home.
though, despite that hope, she doesn't expect her name to be called out to her over the crowds. so much that she almost doesn't even recognize it - her alias has been so different, and she's gotten so used to it, so familiar, that her name doesn't even get her attention. not at first. until she thinks, a moment or two later, that she freezes in her steps and turns back to the sound of it. she might have just heard it, the first few months she lived here in new york city she thought she heard her name everywhere, thought she saw her friends in everyone.
so when she does turn, seeing thor rushing after her, she almost doesn't believe it. ]
Wha- [ her eyes widen, still not convinced until his hands clasp over her shoulders, and he's solid, and he's there, and he's asking her about what she's doing here and that it's good to see her and she just can't. quite. ]
What happened to your hair? [ is the first question that comes out, despite her attention behind elsewhere. ] And your eye? [ she reaches out to set her hand on his cheek, her brow furrowed as she examines the patch. the spot. he looks like allfather she thinks briefly, before she jerks herself out of the thought, because he asked her a question. because he's standing in front of her and looks like he belongs, and she can't quite wrap her head around it. ]