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 strangers in a strange land, tag: clea!

Thor Odinson

years old
0 posts
Dec 30 2017, 02:22 PM
he just regrettably forgets to exceed expectation.

Patience was a virtue.

Or so the saying went.

A virtue that did not much agree with Thor, not by a long shot, if he were to be honest. He scrubbed a hand down his face, eyes bleary in the near dark room, feeling more the school-boy than a scholar, the little yellow desk-lamp making a brave attempt to keep the space lit. It’s a yellow desk-lamp Jane said to him- sounding somewhat sheepish in that peculiar way of hers, that always made Thor feel ridiculously fond of her, it was a manner he would have never associated with a woman so fierce and determined to change the world she lived in- when she, Darcy and Erik helped him move, holding boxes with Midgardian home essentials, cheeks reddened from the brisk walk in the cold. No one steals yellow lamps she added then, abashed and bemused at the same time, as means of explanation. Thor couldn’t help but wonder whether she had been robbed of many lamps. Jane told him that some of her lab partners had sticky fingers, Thor had a strong suspicion Darcy’s were the stickiest.

He sighed, tapping his pencil on the top of the notebook...he might have doodled a little instead of translating runes into equations. Well, maybe for three or four pages. ‘Five, tops’ as they said on Midgard. In all honesty, Thor thought it would have been much simpler of a task when he, cheerfully and with all the bounding enthusiasm he felt whenever given with an opportunity to support his friends, volunteered to help out. Faith Deveraux, and Jane before her, had asked him for some insights into the workings of the Universe and Thor, without a second thought, replied "I’d be more than happy to!”

Your ancestors called it magic...

However, sitting with Jane under starry New Mexico skies and explaining the secrets of the cosmos he knew about, scribbling down galaxies and worlds of the Yggdrasil had been considerably easier (and to tell the truth far more enjoyable) than transcribing Asgardian runes and All-Speak into their Midgardian equivalents. He was no seidrmaster after all, and even despite the fact that even the simplest everyday artefacts from his home could advance earth’s development by centuries if not whole millenia, Thor found himself lacking in adequate terminology. He knew the Asgardian wording of course, he might have not been the most attentive pupil his tutors could have wished for but his parents could scarcely afford to have the Crown Prince walk around grossly uneducated, and had a working knowledge of Aesir technology but writing it down into the convoluted equations that were Jane Foster’s first language with only the barest knowledge of Midgardian sciences under his belt, might have been an instance where Thor bit off more than he could chew. Explaining general concepts and differences in Human-Asgardian perception was something Thor could gladly and easily do, it was like history and he had always loved that and found himself remembering the tales he listened to or read, decades after. It was the only thing that managed to give him any confidence in his learning as he felt he could easily outshone when it came to the delicate inner-workings of magic, often by Loki and sometimes Hogun, though Hogun -bless him- had been too modest to brag about. The art of warfare and weaponry, that was a different story altogether. It was fair enough that they were prodded into disciplines they were both respectively good at, all their many, many differences aside, confidence -and arrogance- came chiefly from skill for both Thor and Loki. Albeit he doubted that Faith or Jane were particularly interested in the power behind Mjolnir. Jane wanted to know what else was out there and how they travelled through the beams of the Bifrost and Thor found himself at a loss for words, for how could he speak plainly about something so complicated. Then again, he also trusted that she would pick up the words that failed him, muttering to herself like she frequently did, her mind a storm.

He needed to clear his head.

New York never slept it seemed, it merely dozed in the small hours, streetlights bright as ever, looking like glowing clouds of vapour in the cold, damp mist. The frost from the night before finally starting to thaw, puddles cracking whenever Thor stepped on them, nestled warm in a winter coat and a hoodie, making him smile. It was good, it felt nice, to be out before the city became a tumult of noise and movement, thrumming with impatience and annoyance and people tried to get from one place to another, busy and frantic with their daily lives. A couple, laughing and evidently in good spirits, tumbled out of a cab and nearly collided with Thor, hasty apologies spilling out of them as Thor grinned back. He followed them with his eyes as they rushed to get out of the cold, wrapped into each other and then...he saw something else. A movement, a glimpse of silver-white hair.

”Wait”
BY MITZI

Clea

Clea
Enhanced
NA years old
53 posts
Dec 30 2017, 04:31 PM
H
olidays. Clea had never thought of the word, nor did she consider what they meant. On the Earth realm, many people took to the cold by wrapping up in thick layers and practicing a ritual such as spending coin on things for your loved ones. According to Stephen, not all participated as not all people practiced or celebrated the same holidays. Well how diverse of the human race... The more she learned about New York, the more the became fascinated. There was no telling how long Clea had been in this realm yet she felt like she had gained a lifetime of knowledge and that in itself was worth the betrayal towards her uncle. And she would do it again and again in order to gain more.

The Earth nurtured her spirit, her soul, lifeforce, whatever you wanted to call it. In the light of the sun, Clea's mannerisms blossomed like a flower and boy, the world must have noticed too, for every single person on the street was staring at her like she was a wonder of the world. Rather than seem self conscious, Clea blushed and smiled at the people murmuring about her, pointing at the silver haired beauty, and commenting on her appearance though she didn't particularly pay attention to what they were saying. All she knew was that she felt welcome among strangers and Earth's people rather than shunned and locked away like in the Dark Dimension.

There was an itch Clea was looking to scratch today, something she couldn't exactly find in the Sanctum. Now that she knew how to find her way home without troubling people, Clea went out on her own now that Stephen had been summoned away. What was it called? Candied Cotton? The strange raw fabric was something she'd tasted when wandering a pier in the summer time, soft and fluffy but disappearing in minutes when she popped it into her mouth. At first taste, it seemed undesirable. Thick. And difficult to swallow. But magic itself seemed afoot when it dissolved into a sweet treat that made her hungry for more. On this particular day, the food vendors were limited. Frowning, she continued as the crowds parted ways for the woman. It seemed one or two places had longer lines with New Yorkers exiting the establishment with smiles on their faces, all drinking from strange cups with a sleeve and steam coming from the lid. Odd. Was it soup? Her nose scrunched, soup not at all appealing to her craving for something sweet. Even the popsicle stand was out of commission at the time.

Meat pies? Clea shook her head and walked past the New York Slicery, not giving it a second look. Clea was on the hunt for something sweet, not soup or pie. Stopping at a shop with pastries in the window, the woman's palette debated. She'd not yet had any of those sweet hoops yet. Upon stopping, a man bumped into her, taking the gold and ruby laced gauntlet from her wrist. Shocked at this act of thievery in broad day light, Clea reached to grab the man by his coat and yanked him back. The man, shocked at her strength only gawked at her from behind sunglasses and a thickly knitted yellow scarf.

A single word hung in the air, spoken by a man she didn't recognize. Turning, she stopped to look at the man who spoke, as people continued to make their way around them, avoiding sidewalk traffic.

The woman in a sundress and strappy sandals walked up to him with a curious look on her face. His power was great, though she sensed not a single bit of blackness in his heart. He too was dressed warmly and she chuckled. "Are you also practicing the ritual of overdressing and shopping for your loved ones during this holiday solstice?" Her curiosity and manner of speaking still gave her away when she spoke to strangers, not to mention her summer clothes in the middle of the winter. The cold had no effect on Clea as she was composed of pure magic, her form created by herself in order to communicate with Stephen upon meeting him in Dormammu's cells. It was how she helped him escape. Now it was how she lived among the people of Earth.

Thor Odinson

years old
0 posts
Jan 1 2018, 11:52 AM
he just regrettably forgets to exceed expectation.

“You could say so, yes” Thor replied, beaming down at her. He did not particularly feel the chill that seized Midgard in the grips of winter, the cold of Earth had little to no effect on Asgardian physiognomy. He had always run warm, all his life- even as a small boy- have it spread evenly under his skin, like early spring sun melting remnants of snow. Their fateful trip to Jotunheimr had been the closest Thor ever felt to feeling the bitter-frigid bite of frost , the vast forever-frozen expanse of it, with its craters and stalactites made of ice so cold it burned. A land that not only was devoid of light, but one that also seemed to seek and suck out warmth from every living thing. It leeched the sun from the very marrow of Thor’s bones and yet he felt it not at all then, hot with fight. This New York winter was inconsequential, the clothes a mere indulgence and a disguise of sorts. Thor liked the way they felt, solid and reassuring, the textures soft and pleasant. An opinion the silver-haired woman clearly did not share, dressed as she was, in a flimsy summertime dress and sandals. She looked like the people on Midgardian posters, ones that encourage you to book a flight to remote and brilliantly sunny destinations. Thor felt himself grinning even more. She reminded him of well…him, when he first crashed onto this planet. Well-meaning but out of place. “Though evidently you are not.”

It was easy enough to walk among the people of Midgard unrecognised, once he shed his armour and left his hammer behind; the attributes that made him so instantly recognizable, however once dressed in midgardian garb he was just another face that could so easy be dispersed in the crowd. He still towered over a great many of them but it was not something that drew attention to him, perhaps once or twice when a hurried New Yorker crashed into him despite Thor’s best efforts to maneuver out of the way. It was something he’d never previously experienced; the anonymity. It was so dizzyingly freeing Thor near enough felt overcome, drunk with joy at the mere concept of it. Here, he was a son of no one. Nobody gazed upon him with their eyes heavy, be it with hope, expectation, hurt or disappointment. Loki would probably mock him mercilessly for it, had he known; for wanting to be seen as anything else other than ‘the mighty Thor’. The term that had originated as an inside joke between them, now only held bitterness and spite. Just this once, Thor wanted to be measured for who he was himself, rather than the Crown Prince of Asgard. He had the freedom to learn and explore and discover, to listen to people he had never met before and would probably never meet again. He clutched desperately at this one thing of his own he had because no matter how burdened his mind, no matter how hopeless his situation seemed at times, this particular freedom never ceased to make his shoulders feel a little lighter, make him hold his head a little higher.

Passers-by looked at her, and by extension, at them; peeling their eyes up from their phones as the city finally broke from its brief night-time nap to busy around them. Thor had the generosity enough to think that it was because the girl was a great beauty, but he knew that it had more to do with her attire.

She was not human, that much was easy enough to discern. She seemed to him, however, like a creature Thor had never previously encountered. She felt the way a presence of spells did. She felt like magic.

“You’re not of this realm” he said, simply and softly. A statement, not a question. “Who are you?”
BY MITZI

Clea

Clea
Enhanced
NA years old
53 posts
Jan 8 2018, 01:11 PM
C
enturies and several millennia of her family tree stemmed from bitterness and greed. Though she didn't know it, her nature countered all of what she was born for, meant for. One could say it was in Earth's best interest for Dormammu to oppress her for so long without giving her knowledge of her power. In this, the Earth and the warriors who protected it gained a powerful and charming ally. Had she been properly raised and educated of her power from the beginning, the man attempting to steal from her would have been in chains before she twisted his mind and his bones until they were nothing but a pile of dust, a cruel example of the consequences one faced when stealing from such a powerful being. Instead, her hand merely hung on to him, her mind thinking of only one thing: You are keeping me from trying those pastry hoops. One would think her thoughts were much more ominous but in fact, when keeping her from getting to know the world she was a part of, Clea took her convictions quite seriously. The tall muscled blonde joined in out of nowhere. What was it with all the special attention she was getting today? People often smiled at her but never like this... He even pointed out that she was not like everyone else celebrating the holiday. Clea rolled her eyes at the man who's observation was quite bland. "Obviously." Why would she celebrate a holiday she knew nothing about? It was a stance of respect on her part.

Clea's form was nothing like Thor's. She was fashioned after an idea of what Stephen considered pure beauty, a way for her to approach him without frightening him in her true form when assisting his escape. It was ironic that she would keep this form, but it was the only one she had known when coming here. Now, it felt like her true self. The dainty and delicate looking woman started up from him, her stature a harrowing five feet and four inches tall. The man in her grasp attempted to leave again, her death grip still solid as she held onto him with a single fist. "And just where do you think you are going?!" Her eyes shifted to the thief in question, his shivering form quite literally cold with fear if he continued to stay out this long, captured by the very person he intended as a simple target. All his years of thieving and he couldn't figure out just why this woman wasn't even flinching at the wind that was picking up..

You're not of this realm.

Well it was quite clear that neither was he. An amused smirk painted her lips, those eyes glittering at the idea of being identified. Back when she had first come to the Earth realm, she was defensive, paranoid, afraid that everyone who identified her was somehow linked to or hired by her uncle to bring her back to face her death sentence. But that was twelve moons ago. In that time span, she had learned of friendship, love, and acquaintances. Earth's population had been so diverse that species from other planets filtered on through here. Not everyone who called Earth home was native to the planet. Even New York wasn't composed of one hundred percent native New Yorkers. The human heart was rather large, open, considerate and curious enough to want to learn more of what else was out there. Now, strangers from other realms and planets no longer meant a threat to her. Rather, it could possibly mean a new friend. A new ally.

With her unoccupied hand, Clea tucked in her ring and pinky finger and drew an imaginary shape before her, the gauntlet taken from her possession immediately returning to her bare arm with a slight golden glow. "Thief, you had better run. Or he might be a more grave threat to you than I am." A nod of her head gestured to the Asgardian as her hand released him from a powerful vice grip. Without a single word, the man ran off, disappearing into the crowds.

If there was one thing Stephen was good at teaching besides magic, it was to recognize when was the right time to make a deal. With a confident tone and her posture upright and regal, Clea looked up at the man who had been so curious about her. "I offer you a simple bargain then. Acquire me those pasty hoops in that shop and I will tell you."

Thor Odinson

years old
0 posts
Jan 14 2018, 04:22 PM
he just regrettably forgets to exceed expectation.

Her reply dripped with casual, sarcastic reprimand. If it were possible Thor would have grinned even harder as his new companion rolled her eyes at him, he couldn’t argue that there was something terribly endearing about it. She stuck out of the crowd in her bright sundress but instead of feeling self-conscious or out of place, she seemed rather pleased with the fact. Or perhaps she simply did not notice it enough to care. Either way, Thor found the feat rather impressive. As for himself Thor had a rather….complicated relationship with Midgardian holidays. He loved how many there were, how the celebrations differed from place to place, different faiths and cultures and customs, many stemming from beliefs even older, back when humans looked up to stories more often and weaved stories of gods and heroes, explaining how constellations came to be or how one season gave way to another. Sometimes the same celebrations so greatly, despite shared cultural heritage, that the customs were practically unrecognizable. Thor loved that. There were many downsides to Midgard being so divided; pointless wars for lands or resources or temporary strategic high ground, it seemed to forever distract them from the directions true threat would reach them. But this. This array of colours and lights and traditions was not it. Thor felt little right to celebrate them himself, it was something he thought he should admire from afar or by the side of people he loved, not something he should arrogantly demand to be included in. Besides, not all of his friends observed the same holy days. Jane and Darcy lit candles for eight days, one each evening, and told him the history behind, where to survive was to triumph, the symbolism that lay beneath; a spark of hope against the solidity of darkness. Tony, on another hand, would outdo himself with the tree; only biggest, most fragrant pine would do, dressed in the shiniest baubles and fluffiest tinsel, playing second fiddle only to the one Thor saw in Manhattan. Steve told him, with a somewhat distant look in his eye, that where- or rather when- he grew up, such blatant displays of opulence were largely unheard of.

Thor grinned, amused as she struggled with the thief, who was clearly - and belatedly- realising he bit off more than he could chew and was frantically rethinking his decision to attempt to take advantage of this slight stranger. And she did seem so slight, barely reaching just below Thor’s own shoulder, and he supposed for someone whose senses dull enough not to notice the curling and curving aura of magic around her, to the untrained eye she must have appeared easy prey. He tramped down on an urge to step in and help as the girl seemed more than capable of taking care of it herself.

Seeing her conjure the gauntlet- clearly what caught the thief’s eye- back into her possession, he was proven right.

"Thief, you had better run. Or he might be a more grave threat to you than I am."

Wait? Is this what Midgardians meant by throwing someone under the bus? Was that the terminology? Thor would have laughed, had his glower not been called upon. The man, held in place by what was undoubtedly a vice-like grip, looked back at him; his wide, frightened eyes going impossibly wider. Thor nodded to him, voice grim: ”If you know what is good for you, you'd better run” And run he did, the second he was released, stumbling through the moving crowd in his haste to get away, before disappearing within it.

She turned his full attention to him then and Thor bit back a grin he could feel forming. With her back straight and her chin up she looked like a demanding child, her whole form oozing determination and resolute. It reminded him of all these times when Sif would do the same when they were children, squaring up to tell Thor, in no uncertain terms, what kind of trouble his shenanigans had gotten her with her mother. If anything Sif managed to be far more intimidating than the petite woman who stood before him, but Thor suspected it had more to do with the fact that as kids Sif used to be taller than him for at least a better half of a century. ”That seems like a reasonable bargain” Thor said, pretending to consider the deal, though the effect was somewhat spoiled by his smile. ”It would be an honour” he bowed his head politely. ” Have you ever had hot chocolate? I’ve heard this shop is particularly skilled at it”
BY MITZI

Clea

Clea
Enhanced
NA years old
53 posts
Feb 5 2018, 10:52 AM
T
he entirety of her life had been spent with her own family and nothing but wrongdoing. So much had been taken from her and it was only upon her arrival on Earth that she had gained it all back. She was her own, belonging to no one and Stephen saw that it was kept that way. So when anyone wanted to prey on her kindness or her dignity, Clea had that freedom to take the stance and say and do all the things she couldn't do when she was younger. No longer would injustice just be. Clea would fight it, stop it, or correct it. It wasn't the first time she was targeted and somehow she suspected it would not be the last.

With the accessory back in place on her arm and the compliance of her new otherworldly companion, the thief got the message loud and clear and was on his way. Turning to the man, Clea flashed a smile, thrilled that he had accepted the conditions to her bargain. The sound of hot chocolate sounded odd. For she knew what chocolate was, but hot? Raising a brow, she looked confused. "I have never heard of this Earth food before but with the many varieties of it, I suppose there are plenty of things I have not heard of yet." Of course Clea didn't make friends like everyone else. Her ways were odd to Earth people, many thinking her strange or even challenged, and then the few who actually thought she was from Earth, but from a different and more exotic continent. Exotic yes, but not on this realm.

Walking into the shop they had stood in front of for some time, Clea used her less than approachable abilities by opening the door without touching the handles. That itself drew attention to the pair, not to mention their difference in height and build. Thor was a chiseled looking athletic man, looming over the woman by several feet. And Clea? Clea looked like she belonged in a perfume ad next to Natalie Portman.

The scents and aromas of the pastry shop were welcome changes to the scents she picked up outside. Wetness, damp snow, dried cement, linens of all sorts that people wrapped around themselves. Dull colors were replaced with bright lights and colorful cakes made of sugar frosting and baked dough. Literal kid in a candy store, Clea a-lined it for the pastry cases, marveling at the design of some of these cakes and cookies. She pointed out several that didn't look like food at all. "Is this an Earth custom? To use trickery to deceive people into eating objects disguised as cake?" A basketball cake was in her sight, though she knew not the sport, she had seen the ball on the streets, often engaged by a group of kids or young adults in their quest to throw it at a hoop suspended in air.

Just as she was taken by the cakes, she quickly reaverted her attention again to the donuts from the window, only this case had more options, several of them with bright colors and beautifully designed sprinkles that looked like glitter or geodes. "Look! They are sprinkled with precious stones!" Sugar. It was a magic of its own on Earth, one Clea would be learning much about very soon.

"So.... A platter of this hot chocolate you speak of, a box of those hoop pastries, and one of those decorated cakes?" Clea was likely one of the only people around who could match Thor's insatiable appetite.

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