outer_divide | First Weaving: The Wheel Weaves [Video/Action if you want it]

Well this was new. New and mildly disconcerting, to be truthful. As she stepped naked from her pod, Lanfear couldn't help but look around with wide eyes, bewilderment plain on her face. Shaking her head, she rubbed her temple, shutting her eyes as she thought back. She'd been talking to Lews Therin's reincarnation...and then the Soulless and the Trollocs came. And then...nothing. The next thing she could recall was the inside of that small cell.

No, not a cell. That was even more apparent as she looked around the chamber. A pod. Like something Balthamel might have come up with. Something from before the War. When? How? Her eyes darted around the dimly lit interior, taking it all. No, not a room. This was some sort of...ship? A Sho-Wing? Or perhaps like one of the great Observation Spheres. Surely not, though, those had all been destroyed after she'd been sealed. And those were feats far, far beyond the feeble minds of the present Age to duplicate. What was going on?

Stepping forward, she almost stumbled on the footlocker at her feet, a sneer forming on her lips as she read the nameplate. Mierin Eronaile. With a snarl she grasped the Source and felt the heat of it filling her, the gentle thrum of Saidar pulsing through her and sighed. That was always easier than grasping the Dark One's power, less painful in it's own way, though the weaves were slightly weaker. But enough for this. Liquid fire poured from her fingertips, incinerating the plaque and leaving nothing but a molten puddle on the floor. That name no longer had any meaning. And none need even know such a name ever existed.

Still holding the Power, Lanfear began to weave her disguise, her shape changing from ripe maturity to the blossom of youth. Selene. That face would do quite nicely. Wherever this was, looking a little vulnerable probably would be a boon. Rifling through the contents of her box, the Chosen found her gown, the angreal she always wore, and a few other trinkets she'd had on her when she'd visited the Stone. And a strange mirror with some sort of crude type-set attached. Like something from...so, so long ago. Before the Hundred Companions had sealed her away and Broken the world in their madness. An act she still intended to repay if any of those fools descendants yet lived. But that was a thought for another time she mused as she dressed.

The mirror was a small thing to understand, but as she perused this "network" one thing became quite clear. She was not in her world anymore. How she'd arrived and how to return were both matters that would need addressing. Which meant dealing with the local inhabitants. And that meant leaving this ship and speaking to the wretches. Or...using this network. That might provide a few answers. Yes...a bit of false distress. That would do nicely. Her gown shifted, becoming voluminous and thick. A touch of modesty would do no harm, either...

[She begins her broadcast simply, a beautiful young woman with dark hair and thick robes appearing wide-eyed over the network. Her voice trembles, from fear or despair it might be hard to say. But this woman is definitely not taking this well. The angle of the camera plainly shows the interior of the ship, the woman huddled in a corner, staring at the recording device]

W-where am I? I...have no idea where I am. Light, I was just...out for a picnic and I f-fell asleep. And now I'm here. Where...wherever here is. Can someone out there help me? Please? I'm so frightened and I-I don't know what's going on. I have gold, if you need. Just help me...

[She leans over, peering uncertainly at the feed...waiting for an answer. Inwardly, her face is a mask of amusement. Someone with a kind heart, or a craven fool seeking easy prey would surely answer that call, a noble maiden in distress. The former would be easy enough to fool, and the latter simple enough to leave in a tattered heap. And either would leave her in a better position than when she started...]

(ooc: Feel free to actionspam as well as network her, all I ask is that any action come after her little "meltdown")

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh, that is hardly magic. Magic is words and tricks and control. All I do is channel power though Mjolnir and summon the storm.

[He hefts the hammer to indicate what he means.]

There is little precision or art to it. I have no patience for anything more than that, and I know it. Ask my brother, he mocks me for it all the time.

Ahh, I...see.

[Some manner of ter'angreal it seemed. Yes, she could see that. A mighty warrior with his special hammer.]

So you can channel energy? Is that natural for your people? Forgive me for all of the questions, I...suppose it's my way of distracting myself.

No need to apologize. It does not trouble me at all. It is not necessarily common for all of Asgard, but many do have sorcerous powers. I am much more a warrior at heart, and I am more concerned with its use in battle. There is not much else lightning can really do, at any rate.

I...think that point could be argued, but as you say.

[Lightning had many uses, after all. Not that her favorite way to use it wasn't inflicting pain and death...but it did have other uses.]

All right, well, it can at power to Tony Stark's suit.

[Thor is not the most creative person on Verdana. Sorry, Lanfear. At least they are entering the more habitable part of the Old City. The streets are clean and free of plantlife, the buildings are mostly in good repair, and there are occassional people walking by.]

Who is Tony Stark...and why does his suit need power?

[Sure, power armor existed during the last age, some of it she even worked on a bit. But surely that cannot exist here...

And that's more interesting than the city, obviously.]

It runs on electricity. I actually was attempting to blast him with it, but he had set his suit up to absorb lightning rather than take damage from it. It was very clever.

[Thor can appreciate cleverness. He even laughs a little about the whole situation, now. It had been pretty silly.]

[Well, she'll keep that in mind if this...Stark gives her trouble. Thank you Thor, that just saved her a lot of potential trouble.]

Ah. Curious and clever indeed. Is this man here? And...why were you fighting him? It sounds as though you are fond of him.

[She's worked off a lot of her anxiety by talking, and gives him an almost genuine smile.]

Oh, aye. There are several here from Midgard, who I knew before my accidental arrival. And others who I knew of, or who I knew but in a different form.

[He shakes his head ruefully.]

As for Stark, he had my-- that-- war criminal I needed to take home to Asgard. I thought he would not return him to me, and he thought I would take him without cooperating. So we fought briefly, until we were convinced of our error in judgment. From then on our goals were the same.

So, not just a war criminal, but a criminal between worlds? What, may I ask, were his crimes?

[Thor sighs. Of course she'd ask.]

Attempted genocide and unleashing his army of Chitauri on civilians, are the main crimes. He also stole the tesseract, an object of great power, and manipulated many of us.

[Tesseract, eh? Consider her interested. The other stuff matters little. She's been part of much, much, much worse.]

Do you know the motives behind either?

Vengeance, pride, a desire to rule over something that is important to others.

[Thor shrugs, looking not particularly pleased with the line of conversation.]

It matters little, as long as I am trapped here... I can do nothing to even contact him, much less convince him to change his ways.

[All motives she can understand. She knows she's proud, and she'd love a chance to twist the knife into that milk-haired chit Ilyena's heart, but Lanfear knows better than to let any of that show on her face.]

Unfortunately, yes. I do hope you manage it, though.

[And Thor doesn't even guess that she might be thinking such a thing. He just sighs.]

I hope so, too. But regardless, we have arrived-- this is the heart of the Old City, and along these streets are the major places you will need to know. That is the Flop, where there is free housing. The hospital is down that road, the Vault of Knowledge along that one, and further that direction is Edmund's. He is the local trader, and he will trade with you for things you might need, whether for objects you are willing to trade him or for chores he might put to you.

Thank you for your help, Lord Thor.

[She manages an incline of her head, her pride too great to allow a curtsy but dipping of the head was what Aes Sedai did in her original time.]

I suppose I should attempt to locate food and a place to rest for the evening.

[And by that, she means carve out a sanctum to touch Tel'aran'rhiod.]

You have my sincerest thanks, Lord.

The Flop house also comes equipped with free food, so the looking may not take as long as you fear.

[It's pretty basic food, but it keeps a person fed, at least. Thor replies to her nod with a polite and friendly half-bow, dredging his smile back up from beyond the discussion of the nastier version of his brother.]

It has been my pleasure. If you ever need me for anything, feel free to call on that communicator device. I will be glad to assist.

First Weaving: The Wheel Weaves [Video/Action if you want it]

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Well someone gave me a paid...so she has nice new icons, lol

whoohoo icons! :D yeah, I gave in and paid Thor a couple weeks ago...

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