xp_logs | More! Asgard! Logs!

Shopping for supplies, Jamie and Miles see a -very- familiar redhead. Miles does a mad dash through the crowd, and does his very best impression of a barnacle on Angie's knees.

"For thirty, you're selling me a better horse than _this,_" Jamie said irritably to the horse merchant, a slippery-looking man who reminded Jamie of some of the farm equipment dealers he'd met back home. It wasn't that the horse he was currently looking at was _bad,_ just that all the horses in the Professor's stables were _better,_ and he wanted to drive the price down anyway. He pointed to a black gelding instead. "That one, for example."

"Oh, good my young lord, you are blessed with an eye for horseflesh, but I could accept no less than fifty for him. His sire was the pride of my stables, and very dear to me, and I love that horse like my own starving children."

"Fifty?" Jamie snorted. "Come on, Miles, we're going somewhere else." He turned to leave, and the horse merchant caught his arm.

"No, no, young lord, a man of your discernment should ride only the best, and Snorri Sturlason has the finest horses in Asgard City." He looked theatrically pained. "My wife will make me sleep in the empty stall, but I could perhaps sell the black for thirty."

"Well, I wouldn't want you to get in trouble with your wife," Jamie said, smiling wryly, and pointed to the horse he'd had his eye on from the start, a grey mare that reminded him of Cricket. "Twenty for the mare?"

"Twenty-five. My children must eat."

"Done." Jamie handed over the coin and accepted the mare's lead rope; Snorri skittered off through the paddock to dicker with another customer, and Jamie grinned down at Miles. "Good start, huh, buddy? Want a boost up, you can help me look for a saddlemaker?"

--

Marie-Ange raised an eyebrow silently. "Surely, you must be joking." She folded her arms and shook her head, tossing the hood of her cloak back. "I saw -no- notices of a tax on leather." She scowled at the shopkeeper and huffed in irritation. "Shiro? Could you come here for a moment?" she called - in English, instead of the Norse she had been negotiating in - "I could use some help." If the shopkeeper wanted to try to swindle her, she was going to go straight to the trump card. Intimidation.

Silver cloak swishing behind him, Shiro approached Marie Ange and the shopkeep. He'd always been gifted at intimidation, and had gotten much better over the past several weeks as he learned to take advantage of his reputation. And even though he had forsaken his duty to the Norns, he still wore their marks on his face, and knew that the shopkeep would recognize him. "What?" he asked curtly, arms folded over his chest, glaring at the man who was trying to cheat them. He smiled inwardly as the man fought to stand up straight and not back away.

"The shopkeeper seems to think there is a tax on leather." Marie-Ange said, smiling politely. She might not get along with Shiro, but at least for the moment, he was certainly helpful to have around.

Switching back to Norse - she knew her accent marked her as an outsider, but it could not be -so- horrible that everyone was going to try to swindle her, hopefully, she looked the shopkeeper in the eye and continued to barter. "Now then. Saddlebags, please. Mine are a wreck, and I really do not want to lose my things on the road somewhere. I would be -quite- upset, as would my companion."

--

Miles had ridden a few times with Alison, before her break-up with Sam - his reaction was undisguised delight and he hopped towards the mare carefully without an ounce of fear. "Can Miles give her an apple later to make friends properly?" he asked, looking at the grey, clearly wanting to pet her.

The mare made a low whuffling sound and stretched her neck down, curious about the small person beside. A light nudged gave her the desired reaction and when small hands reached to scritch her behind the ears, the mare leaned into the touch with a whicker of approval.

"All the apples you want, kiddo. You can help me pick a name, too." Jamie dug a spare blanket out of his knapsack and spread it over the horse's back before boosting Miles carefully up. After making sure the little boy was steady, he led the mare through the market, keeping his eyes peeled. It didn't help at _all_ that these freaking Asgardian Viking-types all ran to six feet plus, but after a moment he spotted a saddle nailed to the crossbeam of a market stall.

And then the customer already being served lowered her hood to reveal bright red hair, and Jamie did a doubletake.

"Hey Miles . . ." Jamie cocked an eye up, then pointed toward the saddlemaker's shop, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You see what I see?"

Eyes wide in astonishment and dawning delight, Miles nodded slowly, one arm reaching out vaguely towards Jamie in a silent query to be set down - it wasn't hard to guess that his idea was to scramble through the crowd and make a beeline for the redhead.

Jamie eyed the crowd speculatively. "Make sure you stay in sight, all right? Lot of big people around here and I don't wanna have to explain to your mom how I got you squished."

--

Juggling her packages - the ones Shiro wasn't holding reluctantly - Marie-Ange picked her way through the crowd. Just outside the market stall, she paused, then stiffened briefly as a large raven landed on her shoulder. She scowled at the bird, muttering curses in French at it, then turned her head to follow the bird's gaze. If the damned bird was staring at something, it might be important, she thought.

But all she could see was a shifting of the crowd, as if they were avoiding something underfoot. That was not that unusual, with dogs and cats and the occasional chicken loose in the marketplace all the time. Shrugging, she turned back to Shiro. "Do you need anything? I still have.. a bit of gold."

Shiro couldn't help but smile a bit as Marie-Ange's pet landed on her shoulder. He didn't understand her constant vexation with the bird; he thought it was pretty cool. "I do not need any transportation or defense supplies, and we have enough food to last us for a while, so no. Save your gold, we will need it later. That is, if I do not kill and take the money from these fools who do not stop walking into us," he growled, trying to not get jostled by human traffic.

--

Miles nearly wriggled that bit too much as Jamie helped him down - and then shot him an apologetic look. "Miles can see Marie-Ange!" he whispered ecstatically, before darting off in the crowd, weaving through people in the way only a seven year old can do as he made a beeline for the red head.

Jamie snorted softly--not like _he_ would've followed directions either, in Miles' place--and threaded his own way through the crowd as quickly as he could, taking shameless advantage of the horse's bulk to help force a path through the throng.

Marie-Ange couldn't help but snort out a laugh at Shiro's commentary on the crowd. She wasn't overly fond of it herself - too many overly tall Asgardians, and far, far too many people staring at the bird. Damned overly large visible raven. out of the corner of her eye, she caught a small figure weaving between people's legs, ducking expertly under arms and avoiding being stepped on with eerily familiar hyperactive bursts of speed. At this rate, the child was going to barrel himself - or herself, Marie-Ange couldn't tell under the heavy cloak and too-large pants and shirt - right into her knees.

Her judgment on the situation was entirely accurate - within seconds the small boy gleefully ran straight into her, arms wrapping around both her legs. "Marie-Ange!" the little boy whispered excitedly, trying to both peek up at her and smile and yet not show his face to others at the same time. "Jamie and Miles are here! Miles is so happy to see you!" The words spilled out of him at a whisper so quickly they were nearly undecipherable.

Knees practically giving out under her - only held up by sheer will (and Miles clinging to them for dear life) Marie-Ange could only stare down at the little boy and gape. Finding Shiro had been a miracle - this was beyond unbelievable.

Jamie finally shouldered the rest of the way through the crowd, his grin succeeding in making his beard look even sillier than usual. "I know you people from somewhere, don't I? Amazing who you run into when you're shopping."

The sight of the little green boy made Shiro's near-permanent scowl fade, and he bent down to affectionately rub Miles' head. And when Jamie showed up, only sheer force of will stopped him from bursting out in laughter. "You have something on your face . . ."

The shock finally settling into something a little more reasonable, Marie-Ange bent to lift Miles and pull him into a tight hug. "I.. I have no words. "

"Yeah, yeah, get your yuks in early." Jamie scratched his chin. "It's a beard, Shiro. Dwarves look at you funny when you ask for a razor. You've got something on _your_ face too, and it looks almost as silly." He smiled at Marie-Ange. "So get your wordless self over here and give me a hug too, willya? Two months I've been here and not a word--where have you guys _been?_"

Still carrying Miles, not at all willing to let the small boy go, as the contact was settling her nerves, Marie-Ange stepped over to Jamie, wrapping her free arm around him tightly. "I was here, Sif was just rather unfond of me leaving Odin's fortress until she felt I was 'ready', and her definition of ready.. " She shrugged. "Sarah and Sif would get along -far- too well, I think."

Jamie made a face. "And I thought a spear through the leg was bad. How about you, Shiro?"

Miles didn't say a word, too busy hiding his face against Marie-Ange now that she was carrying him - his hood was big enough to hide his features and skin color, but they were in the middle of a market and there was just no way he was taking any chances. And besides, he was nicely crying to himself happily and it was good to have a little peace to do so.

"Divine Champion of Fate and Destiny," Shiro responded flatly, shrugging. "It was a thing. Got boring. Urd really is not that wonderful in real life."

"Other than having to stare down the shopkeeper, they were reasonably fair." Marie-Ange's voice was a bit more normal now, though still tight and tense. "Though I cannot speak for his saddles, just stirrups and reins."

In true Jamie Madrox fashion, he does his level best to cheer up Marie-Ange, who isn't in the good mental place, thanks to Sif's 'motivations' from earlier.

The dwarven trade enclave wasn't very far away from the crowded market,, and all the crafts of the seven clans were on proud display, from woven tapestries to delicate blown glass to the finest weapons in Asgard, which last drew Shiro like a magnet. Jamie settled Miles down with the horses and a basket of apples, said something to the cook which resulted in a laugh and a large hunk of dark bread, and came back to sit down by Marie-Ange, offering half the bread.

"Pretty good start on finding everybody," he said. "We'll be home before we know it, at this rate."

Marie-Ange knew she -should- probably try to share Jamie's optimism. If she had found Shiro by accident and then Miles and Jamie by sheer miraculous chance, then actually looking for anyone else should be far easier. It was just so damned hard to actually believe in it. Taking the bread listlessly, she picked at it, chewing slowly. "I've.. We've gotten lucky. I don't even know where to go on from here."

"We'll ask around. Rumor mill should turn up something, it's not like we don't all stick out like sore thumbs around here." Jamie snorted. "Paige, Alison, 'Yana, and Doug are about the only ones who even kinda look Viking, and they're all too short." He grinned. "Besides. The universe knows better than to try and keep me from getting home to Kitty, and it's not like I'm gonna leave the rest of you guys here. So as long as you stick close to me, it's a sure thing."

Raising both eyebrows, Marie-Ange turned to look directly -at- Jamie. "How do you know -anyone- is here besides us? I barely remember the game, much less whatever happened." Admittedly, cracking her head on a stone floor probably didn't help much there. "We've been here for two months, and it took that long to find you three. I .. .. what if we're here for so long that everyone forgets about us?"

"I was playing left field, remember? Had a really good view of what happened, and it pretty much only covered the baseball field. We're looking for maybe a dozen people, total." He cocked his head, and added gently, "Everyone? Or just one person?"

~Ow.~ The pained wince that passed over Marie-Ange's face was more then enough of an answer by itself. "I'm trying not to think about it. I don't -want- to think about it. You knew Kitty was coming back.. Doug has no idea where I am, or how long we're going to be gone, and.. " Letting out a frustrated sigh, she grit her teeth. "Damn. I was doing so well not thinking about this..."

"I don't, actually. Know that Kitty's coming back." Jamie's smile flickered. "She very carefully hasn't said much about it, but . . . from what I know of her parents, it wouldn't surprise me that much if yanking her home for the summer without any warning was a warm-up for transferring her to some school that doesn't get invaded. Guess we'll find out when we get back." He shook his head. "But that's not the point. Wherever Doug is--and hell, he might be in the next street over, for all we know--you know all he's doing is worrying about whether _you're_ all right."

Voicing her fears that Doug was home - and the fear that he was home was somehow worse than the fear that he was there in Asgard with them, and had managed to get hurt badly - was not going to happen. She'd already managed to look pathetic and pitiful just by voicing her concerns in the first place. "And making himself sick trying to help or find us or just by worrying so much." No matter where Doug was, it was definitely true that he would end up being worry-wart.

"That's Doug, all right. We'll just have to find him before he drives himself nuts, that's all." Jamie grinned. "More nuts, anyway."

Despite herself, Marie-Ange smiled. "He is not -that- bad anymore. Most of the time."

"Yeah, but it's not every day we get kidnapped to the Viking afterlife, either. I think he'd call that a special occasion." Jamie shook his head. "Well, at least he speaks the language. Dunno what I'd've done if Gunnar and Disa hadn't spoken any English. Been screwed, probably."

"Or just learned Norse by picking it up. It makes a nice compliment to Askani. Languages from the future, language from the past... " Marie-Ange grinned, almost naturally. "I think Nathan will approve..."

Jamie laughed. "Probably, yeah. And I have to say it's more fun learning the languages you're never actually going to use, for some reason. But it would've taken a lot longer doing it from scratch. Can't fault the Aesir for wanting to keep current, I guess."

"It makes it much easier to have private conversations when you know languages that no one else does." Marie-Ange snickered quietly. "Like those people who speak in Klingon or that silly elf language, only without the part where Doug complains loudly about the lack of grammar."

"Or almost any language other than English, in the US. Come on, you know you were halfway to a crack about the American education system."

Pulling a mock-insulted expression, Marie-Ange put one hand to her chest. "Do I -look- like Shiro? I know my hair is dirty, but I did not think it had gotten so bad as to look -black-... "

Jamie snickered. "If you looked like Shiro, I'd have to ask Doug some serious questions."

"I think if I looked like Shiro, I would probably have to make fun of myself for having silly face paint right now."

"Oh, come on, Angie, all the stylish divine champions of fate and justice are wearing it these days. Face paint is the new black, you know." He shrugged, which set the chain mail jingling. "Unless metal is. Either way."

"I think I prefer the metal. It’s noisier, but not half as silly." Marie-Ange peered curiously at the armor. "Your dwarves -made- that just for you? That's.. wow. There were days I've had given my arm for chainmail.."

"Surprised the heck out of me when Gunnar gave it to me, that's for sure. And it's a lot more comfortable than I always thought armor would be." He grinned. "I haven't actually tried out the part where it keeps me from being dead, but I'm definitely in favor of not getting stabbed anymore."

Halfway into commenting on the virtues of leather versus chainmail, and how annoying it was to have a large bird claw up your shoulder, Marie-Ange paused, in mid-word. "Wait. Stabbed -anymore-? You got stabbed?"

"By a troll, right after I got here." He indicated the spot on his leg. "Spear went all the way through. I sortakinda . . . charged it, a little. With a stick." He grimaced. "The scar's gonna be awkward to explain when Kitty sees it."

"Okay, I think stabbed by a troll beats clawed up by a bird any day, you win. " The degree of which she could talk about being stabbed, or being clawed up by The Damned Bird was a little distressing. Or course, having a casual conversation about -armor -was a little distressing. "I think this entire autumn is going to be hard to explain, Jamie. The scar is probably going to be minor compared to the part where you tell her it was a troll that did it, and dwarves that healed you."

Jamie chuckled. "Okay, yeah, that's a point. I think she'll be less worried about the troll part than the 'I got stabbed' part, though. I mean . . . our lives are just weird in general."

"You mean -other- teenagers do not have teachers who have superhero names and do not spend their summer vacations getting woken up at dawn by Norse gods?" Marie-Ange snickered. "I'm starting to believe in your coma dream theory, you know. I'd believe in it more, but I think in my coma dreams, my friends do not have badgers attached to their jaws."

Jamie scratched his beard, grinning. "You should've seen Disa's face the only time I ever asked for a razor. I think she almost would've taken it better if I'd _actually_ asked to be allowed to castrate myself."

At a loss for words, Marie-Ange simply doubled over, giggling helplessly, and for quite some time, as every time she looked up, she saw the beard, and began laughing all over again.