2014.03.11 - At The End of The Day

HeroMux - Monday, March 10, 2014, 7:29 PM

Keith is laying on the couch, not paying attention to the television or much of anything, really. He ached in parts he didn't really have a name for, and the piercing headache he had woken up with was now at least a dull thudding. His mood was low enough as it was, even if his body weren't in recovery mode.

Being here was strange, uncomfortable. But he had to be here- if Pepper needed anything, or if he could do anything. It was better than being somewhere else and having to deal with things he wasn't ready to deal with right now, things he kept under lock and key for the time being.

And the bed was nice, too. So was the sofa.

There was no stopping at the apartment after their trip. They had made a promise and Sif planned to see that promise carried out. The children were safe with Volstagg.

And so it is, that a portal opens up directly into Stark Tower. The sight that greets those within, however, is likely nothing they have ever seen before.

The Goddess of War stands, dressed in white and silver armor and leather with hints of inlaid gold. Her sword at her hip, a shield on her arm, and a winged circlet on her head with her hair pulled back into a tightly pleated braid. She looks, every bit, the Valkyrior she once was.

At her side is Thor, dressed in gleaming dress armor that is worn so very rarely. Brought out only for the most political or special of occasions. It wasn't even what was worn for their wedding!

The seem to stand in nothingness, behind them are tall golden gates that look like wings.

Only once Thor steps through the portal does Sif and said portal snaps shut behind them, sealing off the sight.

Thor pauses briefly upon stepping on Midgard to glance about. Spying Vorpal, the Thunderer smiles gently and booms softly, "Keith. Dear friend. We bring to thee a message."

Vorpal winces as the portal opens- even if it is an awe-inspiring sight, the cat's dimensional susceptibility seems to be heightened by his worn-out state. "Gaaaaahhh..." he says as a manner of greeting and would positively turn green if he weren't purple. "... Thor ... Sif.... Lovely to see you ... but first please bring me a bucket, I think I'm about to yark... ungh..."

Sif blinks and in then teleports. In two seconds, there's a trashcan by the cat. She's then slowly stepping back to Thor's side. "Keith. A pleasure as always." She bows her head slightly, sounding far more official than normal. "I am sorry to see you feeling unwell."

Thor regards the feline and tones down the force of his warm boom to that of a gentle rumble. "Keith? Should I summon a healer... medic... doctor?" something!

The Cheshire waves the concern away as Sif brings the trashcan. After a few seconds of breathing exercises he manages to control the nausa. "No... nothing like that. Just... everytime there's a dimensional portal opening near me, I have the desire to puke my guts out." He exhales, finally rid of the nausea without actually having to redecorate the room. "... there. I think it's passed. Sorry about that, I know that that vomiting on sight is not the best sort of greeting there is." He slides down and lays on the couch again, closing his eyes for a moment to give his throbbing forehead a rest.

Sif watches Keith a moment, letting him regain himself. "No apology is necessary."

She straightens herself and squares her shoulders. "My apologies for the unexpected arrival. We were bid carry a message to Lady Pepper, yourself and the rest of the Avengers."

Thor nods at Sif's words, likewise waiting for her to state the reason for their visit before launching into his speech.

"Lo! There did our friend, Anthony Edward Stark, see his Father. Lo, there did he see his Mother, and his Brothers and his Sisters. Lo, did he see the line of his people, back to the beginning. Lo, did they call to him and bid him take his place among them in the halls of Valhalla, where his enemies have been vanquished and the brave live Forever. Mourn not but rejoice for he is among those whom have died the Glorious Death. It is with honor and his priveldge to have fought at thy side. From his soul does he offer these words to thee, especially, and that he is filled with pride for all that thou art," says Thor, voice formal and calm. He opens his arms for the feline, offering Keith Tony's embrace; it is clearly Tony's by the way the Thunderer cants his head and quirks his lips up at one side. Smart ass Tony Stark.

All that he was. Keith had choice wors to address 'all that he was', but he did not feel the energy to say them. He slowly stands up and gives into the hug, muttering "Sorry... I'm getting purple fur on you..."

So Tony had gone to the Everlasting Party. Good for him, truly so-- it didn't make the Cheshire's outlook for Earth any better, though. Loss was loss, even if the other person was getting lapdances from Marilyn Monroe in the afterlife and getting Boeuf Bourgignon personally cooked by Julia Child, it certainly made someone feel glad- but it didn't stop them from feeling the loss on this earth.

Not just the loss of an admired mentor, but also the loss of a hero in a world that could sorely afford to lose many. All that he was? He was no Iron Man, and that's one thing the world needed more than it needed a Vorpal.

He was no Booster Gold, either.

Wait.

"... what about Booster? you didn't see him... over there?"

"I did not see him, nor has Sif been called to collect him," Thor replies, glancing at Sif to confirm this or not. "But when next I find myself near Valhalla, I shall brave the tempation of food and drink to check." Or, describe Booster to Sif and ask her to do it.

Sif gives Vorpal a bit of a confused look and a sad smile. "I cannot say for certain if the one you speak of is there or not. I am unfamiliar with him. As Thor has said, I did not escort him but it is rare than I am called to escort anyone into Valhalla these days." She reaches out to gently lay her hand on Vorpal's shoulder. "Miss him, Keith but do not mourn for long. Celebrate his life and what he stood for. Honor his memory by continuing on and fighting as you would were he still in this realm."

These are dangerous words. These are dangerous people.

They're his friends, but they're touching on things he had locked into himself so tightly, he didn't even feel them. They had to stay there, for now, or the rage would come back again.

The desire to rend flesh under claw, to taste blood, to hear the screams of the guilty in his ears. To fashion himself as Nemesis upon earth. And, yes, the sorrow was buried under that as well. He could not abide any of that emerging.

"My friends," he says quietly, stepping back from Thor and Sif and letting himself lay down upon the sofa again, his eyes having that inescrutable and emotionless quality that cats sometimes have, though it hasn't been one that Keith has worn often, "I'm sorry to cut this short but I'm afraid my condition after Apokolips is a lametable one and I require rest to recover."

That's only partially true. Half of it is his body protesting for having stretched both his physical and magical abilities to unforeseen extents. The other half was purely emotional and psychological. Even when someone does not allow themselves to feel, the battle to remain in control is draining in and of itself. "So I must rest. I also would not wish to keep your message from Pepper any more than it must. She needs it most of all."

Thor held Keith in his warm embrace until the feline stepped away, and then Thor let the cat go, refusing to let him feel trapped by the Thunderer. When bid to leave, Thor nods and steps back to Sif's side fully.

"Call my name. I will come. Sif has promised the same to Anthony Stark, for she is his Valkyrior, and so tied to his soul until he is called for by the silver trumpets of Asgard, to stand with the warriors against Ragnarok," says Thor. It's all so poetic.

Sif watches the cat carefully, eyes narrowing slightly but she says nothing. Instead, she smiles softly and nods her head. "Rest well then, my friend." She reaces out to lace her fingers with Thor's as he returns to her side. A look is given up to him. One she's given him more than once. One that says 'we must talk when we get home'.

"Be well, the two of you," Keith says, eyes closing again to escape the dull thudding in his temples. "... and when you head back, if you use that dimensional door thing again... can you do it on the ground floor? I don't want to ruin the rug." He says with a hint of a smile, which is short lived.