eswareinmal | (no subject)

Characters: Clint Barton & Whoever else wants in on the madness.!
Open? Open to whomever
Where: On the road South of town
When: Day 9 mid-morning
What: A very confused Hawkeye is seeking some answers about just where the hell he is.
Warnings: Potential naughty language and grumpiness.

The sandy haired man who was riding up the road towards south gate had a watchful look on his face. His seat was excellent and obviously knew his way around the horse judging by the loose, one-handed grip he had on the reins as the black steed loped towards the town. In his other hand, he held the bow with an arrow notched and held at the ready just to be safe. Clint wasn’t the type to shoot first and ask questions later but after the morning he had had, he definitely felt like taking the ‘better safe than sorry’ approach.

Tugging lightly on the reins, Hawkeye pulled the stallion to a stop and surveyed the bridge ahead carefully. “Well, boy, should we see if they’re friendly?” Clint asked, musing out loud more than anything else. One of the horse’s ears flicked back at him before prickling one again.

“Right, well, let’s hope they don’t shoot us full of holes.” Not wanting to be viewed as hostile, he dropped the reins long enough to slip the arrow from the bow-string and into the quiver tied to the side of his saddle. Nudging his mount forward once again, they set out at a measured walk towards the city gates.

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"Morning, ma'am." Let it not be said Clint Barton wasn't a polite one when it suited him. "Do you live uh...here? Or know just where the heck 'here' is by any wild chance?" She was the first person he'd seen on the road so far and was kind of hoping she might have some freaking answers for him.

Apparently, it was becoming a habit for Sif to run across newcomers on horseback. She chuckled a bit to herself at the thought.

"I am here, for now. In the Kingdom of Eswareinmal, though my home is considerably further away. There, I am The Lady Sif of Asgard. Here, they call me Prince."

He silently repeated that strange sounding word. Eswareinmal? Never heard of it but it definitely sounded European. Sif's next words however had Clint's brows climbing upwards in surprise. "Asgard? Like the Asgard? Do you know Thor too?"

Clint had met the Asgardian in passing and had certainly heard plenty about him.

At the mention of her comrade, Sif’s expression was bright and unguarded.

“Thor Odinson is my closest friend! You and I are well met, then. How did you come to know him?”

A smile broke out on Clint's face at the recognition. "Yes, ma'am. We work together back in New York, with the Avengers?" Deciding this woman was safe, he dismounted and caught the stallion's reins to lead the animal over to Sif.

"My name's Clint Barton." As was his custom, he held out his hand to the pretty woman and smiled warmly.

Sif held her hand out and gave a firm handshake – perhaps overly so. Still, she was bothered.

“The Avengers? New York? I know neither of these terms, Clint Barton. When I left Thor yesterday, he was in Asgard. Stuck there, in fact. The Bifrost is broken and the Aesir have no way to travel from our home world. It has been a source of great sadness to my friend.”

If more time had passed in the span of a day, then that presented a new set of problems for all of those stranded here.

Hawkeye was used to the bone-crushing grips of Asgardians thanks to Thor. He'd been pretty sure the other man had broken every metacarpal in his hand the first time they'd shook hands.

"Really? Huh. How strange, he predates even me with the team." Clint looked decidedly puzzled by that. "Maybe we're talking about a different person? Tall, blond, carries a big honking hammer and has a penchant for shooting lightning bolts at people who piss him off?"

"And quick to make exceedingly grandstanding proclamations in battle? Yes, I believe we speak of the same man."

It had been six days for Loki. Roughly three months for Sif. And who knew how long for this man.

"I fear that time may pass very differently here, Clint Barton. It would seem that months in our realms are mere days here."

A quick grin flashed across Clint's face. "Yep, definitely sounds like Goldilocks."

Poor Clint was literally fresh off the boat and didn't know anything about how oddly time moved around here.

"Seriously?" This seemed to surprise him more than anything else. Months? God, the Avengers were going to freaking sack him if he up and disappeared for months. And just when things were finally starting to go right for once! "I gotta get back home, ma'am. Can you tell me how to get out of this freaky Alice in Wonderland? Nearest rabbit hole, I don't freaking care, I need to get home."

Sif didn't understand most of the man's references. It was a similar feeling to having a conversation with Jane Foster's young servant, Darcy. But she understood the sentiment all the same, and shared it.

"Did such a means of transportation exist, I would have taken it to my own realm yesterday."

What a modern man and Asgardian having trouble communicating!? It was him and Thor all over again. Still, Clint knew better than to use a lot of the more common colloquialisms after his experience with Thor and tried to tone it down a little for Sif's benefit.

"So there ain't anyway of getting home?" He mused more to himself than anything else. "Then we'll just have to find one now won't we? Not like our kidnappers are gonna let us go if we ask nicely."

"While I share your sentiment, there is more to consider here than just those who arranged for our capture."

It was very possibly genetic: Asgardians couldn't resist Quests. She gestured towards the castle.

"Not so far beyond these walls lies a great threat. One that may eventually lay waste to every man, woman, and child in this land."

His knee-jerk, still rather raw about the kidnapping reaction was to demand just what that had to do with him. Unfortunately, Clint was a hero at heart and could not stand idly by while people were put into danger.

But that didn't mean he had to accept it all at face value either.

"Really? Who told you this? The people who kidnapped us? Could that not be some clever lie to keep their captives pacified?"

“Of course it could.” She had similar thoughts herself, and liked that Clint’s initial reaction wasn’t complacent. Between him, Bakura, and Alanna, perhaps the books had sent a few people she could work with. Not just children and...whatever Loki could be counted as, these days.

She disliked the thought, and pushed it aside.

“But I’ve spoken with townspeople and it seems like a real enough threat. Towns near the thorns have gone wholly uninhabited, populations vanishing seemingly overnight. This day, I ride towards the forest to make an examination of a threat posed there.”

He listened with a guarded look on his face. Due to her supposed ties to Thor alone made Clint want to believe her but he was just too damned mistrustful of just about everything right now. Still, what all he could read from Sif assured him she seemed to believe what she'd been told.

Whether that was the truth or if she herself had been lied too and hoodwinked remained unknown however. "So what, are they kidnapping people to fight a bunch of overgrown weeds? That doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Drop some pesticide on these weeds or something."

...Pesticide? Sif shook her head, indicating her unfamiliarity with the phrase.

"If you mean something to kill the weeds, I assume that if they had such a spell, it would have been used already."

She paused, thinking of the kingdom's ruler.

"Then again, knowing the sovereign..."

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My apologies, work this week has been hell. >.<

No worries!