Sonatorrek: Lokasenna - 13

[x-dominion.livejournal.com]

WARNING: MATURE SUBJECT MATTER

Marie-Ange and Amanda use Thor's legendary arrogence to manipulate him into letting them tatto him with a symbol that is more than what it seems.



Donald Blake had slumped back into his chair in his room, enjoying the workout against Callisto. She wasn’t close to his strength, but she was the first challenge he’d faced in ages, and the slow burn in his muscles was addictive. The attitude towards privacy was fairly relaxed, and he wasn’t entirely surprised at the knock on his door as Marie-Ange and Amanda slipped in through the door.

"Your friend is a good fighter. I bet in her favour pitted against the jotun of Muspelheim." He blinked, confusion suddenly coming across his blue eyes. "Or against Lewis at his prime. Maybe Ali." He stopped suddenly, and shook his head. "A boon companion."

"I'd make sure you're clear you don't mean Laila Ali, if you tell Cal that." Marie-Ange said, leaning against the doorjam. "I wouldn't wanna run into her in a dark alley, but hey, I'm on her side, so unless I slip and screw up her ink she's not gonna go after me."

Amanda giggled. "My Cal can take care of her people, that's for sure." A slightly wicked edge to her smile indicated 'Mandy' was more than happy with the current arrangement. "Mind if we join you, big guy? Angie wanted to check out your ink."

"Did she? And who are you? Her spotter?" His accent flipped, pure Wisconsin, sounding a lot like his dad at that moment?

"Oh, she's my muse. You know, inspiration? Sometimes she carries my stuff. Mostly she's Cal's old lady, but Mandy actually has a pretty good eye for color. Her art's a little too modern-urban for me, but people like it, I guess." Marie-Ange said, with a little wave. "I think like, a third the flash at my old shop is hers."

He grunted, and lolled in the chair. "Better then a washerwoman, mayhaps. Put your entreaty to me, woman, and I shall consider whether Thor Odinson doest grant your wish." And the high speech was back.

"You're cute, with the Shakespeare talk and all." Marie-Ange said, moving into the room. "I traveled all the way here on the back of Ange's bike, and there isn't barely anyone who will actually strip off so I can see their ink. I mean, not anyone I wanna -see- with their shirt off anyway. No offense, but your dad is not really my type."

There was a glint in his eye, that reminded them both that Thor's history wasn't without a lusty component. "There are works on my body. They symbolize my victories."

"And what would get Thor to tell us about these works of his?" Amanda asked, closing the door behind them as she followed Marie-Ange. She had a good feeling what would be required, but she wasn't sure if Angie would be up for it, so to speak. "Maybe we could even contribute something, if I get the itch."

"Oh, we could certainly contribute something." Marie-Ange said, letting a slip of her accent out to turn the 'we' into 'oui'. It wasn't hard to guess where Amanda was going with this. "I bet you're no slouch at contributing yourself, and it'd only be fair, you know, you show us yours, we'll show you ours?"

The look in Thor's eyes was certainly interested. Obviously his relationship with Sylvie wasn't as singularly focused as hers with him.

"I find value in thy offer." He gave his beard a stroke. "You may convince me."

With a cock of one eyebrow to indicate she'd gotten Marie-Ange's message, Amanda came and perched on the arm of Thor's chair. She let her fingers drift up his arm to the tattoo on his shoulder. "All right big guy," she purred. "Let's start with this one."

Thor's smile broadened.

***

Man has always crafted their Gods as extremes of themselves, physically and emotionally. In some cases, it was obvious why. Blake's room looked like it had been clumsily burgled by the time that they had finally sated him. What they had discovered was that 'Thor' and 'Donald Blake' were struggling for control inside his head. His personality would flip halfway through things, giving them the young biker as a lover for a time, and then back to the bombast and arrogance of the Thunder God. Finally, things wound down, and he stretched himself out on the ruined bed, his broad, thickly muscled physique sketched with hair as blond as his beard.

Marie-Ange had propped herself up on one arm, fingers tracing the outline of one of Don's tattoos. "So, God of Thunder, huh? I feel like I should like, say something about your hammer, but I think I'm a little too worn out. What's up with the Thor thing? I don't think I've ever met like, a real god before. I mean, not face to, you know, face."

"Whatever it is, he fucks like a god," remarked Amanda from Thor's other side. She was lying on her front, cheek laid against her crossed forearms, a relaxed, sleepy smile on her face that was only partly put on - the job might be morally dubious sometimes, but she had to admit, there were benefits. The scars left by Chandra's ritual was black against her pale skin.

"And you are both hearty wenches. I would honour you again in the future." The arrogence was the sign of Thor dominant, sure in his own godhood and their role as insignificant mortals.

The laugh that came out of Marie-Ange's mouth was genuine. "Wenches? Really? It's two-thousand twelve. You can say chicks, or whatever." She looked across Thor - Don - at Amanda and gave her friend a clear "What is -with- this guy?" look. Which was more of a "Okay, definitely this is strange." expression, if you knew the red-head as well as Amanda did. "Well, you wore us out, so more, um, honoring is gonna have to wait a little bit. "

"We could always 'honour' him some?" Amanda suggested, propping herself up on her elbows and grinning at Marie-Ange wickedly. "I think he needs some of your ink. Right here." She traced around the skin above his heart, bare of tattoos.

"You want to ink me now?" The voice was Don this time. "What do you want to put there?"

"Well, I dunno. You've got that whole Thor thing going on..." Marie-Ange met Amanda's raised-elbow posture and looked across at the other woman. "Mandy, you had that thing you were doodling, right? The, um, what did you call it, Asatru thing from when you and Cal saw that movie with the actor with the face?"

"Ooh, the Norse thing? Totally the right thing. 'S based on runes 'n stuff and would look totally wicked on you." 'Mandy's' face was lit up with excitement. "C'mon, Thor, baby. It'll be a one of a kind. No-one else has this design." She used the god's name deliberately, hoping to trigger the arrogant (and legendarily vain) persona.

"Very well. I grant you the honour of submitting to your needle. I would have my foes see on my flesh the futility of their opposition." Thor crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back.

"I do not even know what that means." Marie-Ange pulled herself up, one arm wrapped around her knee and tilted her head at the biker-turned-Norse God's broad chest. "I'm going to have to free hand it, unless you really want Mandy to throw some clothes on and go get the rest of my kit. I've got basics in my bag though." She pointed at the faux-designer bag slumped on the floor under a wispy little bra. "But you know I've got a steady hand. Or well, Mandy does.." She smiled, and winked at her friend.

"Got a marker in there?" Amanda suggested. "I can draw you a map, if you like." She grinned back at Marie-Ange. "And that way I can keep our boy here distracted while you ink."

"Well, he is a god, I suppose doing it the wrong way around would be okay just this once." Marie-Ange said. "But if he twitches while I am inking, I am going to be so upset! Distracted, not trying to go for round... um, three? Five? I lost track."