Family Squabbles

Recorded: April 13, 2014
Characters: Dr. Strange, Frigga, Loki, Tyr
Location: Asgard - Sorcerer's Haven
Summary: After a long class in Asgardian battle magic, Loki and Tyr square off verbally.

In the tall spire known as the Sorcerer's Haven, the latest class of Asgardian battle mages has been privileged to receive today's lesson from the most powerful among them. The All-Mother of Asgard is finishing her lecture in a timely fashion with dinnertime fast approaching. All the students have exercised their minds and mystic abilities to the fullest under her tutelage, and while some look more tired than others, all are too full of pride to show their mental fatigue as the last demonstration comes to an end.

"… In conclusion, lightning is not only to be called from the heavens, it may also be called from your very being. Prince Loki will now demonstrate." Frigga gestures to her son, who has been assisting her this whole time. She steps away from a suit of armor that's been posted in the front of the class. It has several dents and signs of wear and tear from today's demonstrations.

Loki had been standing near Frigga, arms folded over his chest. He is wearing the male version of sorcerer's robes, tailored just for him since males in the profession are a bit rare. He drops his hands to his sides, nodding to Frigga. His hair is back to black and long once again, the sides pulled back and braided to hold the rest back. He steps back to put some distance between him and the armor, and begins conjuring his magic.

With a look of concentration, he summons a good deal of magic energy, then thrusts his hands out, throwing the lightning at the armor with a dramatic flair.

Stephen however sits with the rest of the class, on the outskirts however, and his eyes are following Frigga and Loki very intently. Shooting lightning isn't new to the Sorcerer Supreme, doing it the Asgardian way is. He study's and observes with the open mind that only humility could teach.

In contrast to the firm effort and concentration performed by both faculty and students, Tyr has found himself a comfortable spot of stone masonry to press his back into and glower blandly around the area. His own clothing is what it always is: simple, leather armor with rough-hewn fur lining. At some point, most likely due to Frigga's prodding, he has had a new set tailored.

The lightning lesson is considered a light lesson to bring the day to a close. There have been chants in the Asgardian tongue, lectures on cloud and weather manipulation, and essays to read on the history of certain mystical enchantments. It's been a scholarly day, and both the guest lecturer and her assistant have had the pleasure of grading the students' progress. As expected, some of the younger students look a bit intimidated by the ease of Loki's lightning throw, but also excited by the prospects of doing the same in the future.

"You will each have your chance, though not today. Evening is upon us and I am certain you are all eager to share the song of your day with your families." Frigga lifts her hands to signal their dismissal. "Eat and rest. Your Prince and I will see your progress on the morrow." She bows deeply and the students follow suit. Class is dismissed but the young Asgardian women are slow to disperse. They talk amongst themselves and a few even wander over to Stephen with a barrage of questions. The man is, after all, a new local legend. Others move to question Loki on the techniques they saw during the day's lesson. The All-Mother of Asgard politely eases herself away from the gathering, following her own gaze towards Tyr.

"Come to escort your mother to dinner? Or have you finally felt the call of the mystic arts?"

Loki is all too happy to chat with the ladies, giving them his best sly smile as he shows them a few little tricks and goes over the techniques again. Eir might smack him upside the head if she saw him flirting, but Loki must be Loki.

Strange stands and gives his back a small pop as he gets on his feet. The wizard is a bit old for sitting on a pillow all afternoon. But he doesn't complain and even smiles as he's approached taking time to learn names and be a gentleman too. Though the human does keep an eye out for Frigga, curious as to the real reason she brought him here, and curious at himself as he's been so busy with other things lately he's glad to have found the time to make the trip.

"Nay. I could never be a mage, your grace. I was born a man." Tyr replies, sliding Loki an accusatory glance then stomping towards Frigga. "I heard a mortal was here and came to rest my gaze upon it. So small and fragile, it is dangerous for such creatures to wander freely."

The girls are of age, resembling high school graduates or college freshmen with their youthful eagerness. The ones surrounding Loki behave like groupies who are meeting a rockstar, though they blush when Tyr's comment reaches their ears. The men of Asgard are meant to be warriors, that's true, but a sorcerer seems a lot easier for the sorceresses in training to approach. His comment still manages to break up their after-school lesson, though, and that handful of girls quickly scurries for the hallway.

The ones surrounding Stephen eventually lose interest as other topics arise in their conversation. They wander the room discussing amongst themselves, gradually working their way towards the hall. A few more students linger off to the side as they practice a few chants they learned today.

"The Sorcerer Supreme is our honored guest," Frigga punctuates with a briefly humorless stare. "He fought alongside the Einherjar as they met the forces of Svartelfheim in battle, brief though it was. His station and actions demand your courtesy, my son. Do keep that in mind."

Bidding farewells to the fellow magicians he just met, Stephen walks over to Frigga and bows to her with a bit of haste in his demeanor. "Thank you for inviting me for your lesson All-Mother, but the hour grows late and I must return to my own realm. Much has been awry in recent past and I worry it's all connected somehow. Farewell." The good doctor parts rapidly and disappears around the corner.

Loki gives Tyr an ever so wicked smirk and continues talking with them until they disperse. With a slight sigh, he straightens his posture and moves to Frigga's side. "It appears the lessons have been sticking with the students. Their concentration has improved quite a bit. Hello, Tyr. Have you come to learn a bit of sorcery as well?"

"More and more of their champions raise defense in our name." Tyr replies, returning Loki's impish stare with a wary one. "One wonders how Midgard is kept so well appraised of our current events."

Frigga rebuttals casually, "The Sorcerer Supreme has always been an ally of Asgard. It is the duty of he who would bear that title to maintain this bond." She glances across the room and studies the stragglers who are trying to recite a few incantations from memory. The student making the current attempt stops briefly to clear her throat and cough politely into her palm. She looks tired but determined, and tries again once she catches her breath.

Shaking her head, the All-Mother leaves her sons to their passive verbal combat and approaches the group of girls. "The song of protection should not be forced. Rest your voice and try again tomorrow."

Casually walking toward Tyr with his hands folded neatly in front of him, Loki looks to the large warrior and tilts his head back slightly, always looking down his nose at people that piss him off. "Do not presume that it was any word from me that informed them. Tell me, dear brother, what is it about sorcery that you find so very intimidating?"

Tyr twitches his lip with a dubious snort. "Of course, Loki. Your lips are chaste and pure. So unfortunate of me to forget." He answers, giving his head a shake and heading towards the door. With the Sorcerer Supreme having departed he has no further pressing reason to drag himself from his patrol. "Tis not sorcery I find intimidating, Loki, but serendipity. Would that the hounds had found Laufey's unwanted leftovers instead of the Allfather." He muses, pausing in the archway just long enough to stare off dreamily and drum his fingers against the stone.

He finally releases his gathered sigh and turns to regard Loki. "How cruel a fate it must be shielded from death and coddled by the lords of Asgard."

The student stops her chanting and coughs into her hand again, taking longer this time to catch her breath. Frigga rests a comforting hand on her shoulder and says, "You have worked very hard, young sorceress, but your struggle endangers your progress. Go home and rest, so that your strength may soon reurn."

"Yes, my queen," the young woman whispers between coughs, then turns with her friends to exit the room. The All-Mother's gaze lingers thoughtfully, then she turns to look at both princes. "Come, my sons, to the palace for dinner. We shall break bread together, for we are a family, and to act otherwise in the presence of our people would bring concern where none should be." Her voice carries a warning in its tone, emphasized by her move for the doorway with no pause to allow room for further rebuttal.

Loki chuckles darkly, maintaining that smirk that makes people want to slap him upside the face. "If that is what you want to keep telling yourself, dear brother. You do know that I was only saved from death so that Odin may have a pawn against Jotunheim, do you not? Say or think what you will about me, Tyr. I have learned not to take the insecurity of others personally. You should seek counseling for your obvious paranoia and jealousy."

Tyr puzzles at the statement, stepping closer to gaze down into Loki's face until there is little space between the two. "Paranoid? Jealous?" Tyr echoes, mouthing them silently until he explodes into a fit of boisterous laughter.

"That's good, trickster. Quite good indeed. At times I forget you are the Lord of Laughter." He explains, wiping away a budding tear. "But oh, dear Loki. I am not paranoid. Nor am I jealous. You are and always will be little more than a liability. I am jealous; t'would be a lie to say otherwise. That another would be found worthy. Be granted Mjolnir. A Crown." He trails off, lowering his eyes and turning away. "We've all something to be jealous of, Loki. Each and every son of Asgard. Never forget, though, that none who draw breath are jealous of you." Tyr states, deep voice betraying neither malice nor jest. The day has been long for teacher and student both. For a stoic protector and a wanderer mortal. The God of War reflects on the now empty training area and feels only regret as he turns back to Loki. "Tis a fine class, Loki." Tyr says, furred cloak whispering as he shifts and disappears along the halls.

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