Mortal Garb [open to all]

[thelady_sif]

New York City was no Asgard by any stretch, but the tower of Stark was a palace in its own fashion. Spacious and shooting clear into the sky, it wasn't the prison Sif had imagined Loki to be confined in. Thor's chambers were large enough for the three of them, at least for now. Sif hadn't made plans past arriving here, and wasn't yet sure how long she would stay, but she was grateful for their -- no, for Thor's hospitality. Or perhaps it was this Stark king she needed to thank for such well-appointed lodging.

Still, after enough pacing from sitting room to window and back, her feet began to itch to explore this new realm.

It wasn't lost on her that her armour and greaves made her look conspicuous, and this would need to be dealt with first. Even Thor seemed to have embraced this mortal garb, but she'd brought nothing suitable with her to wear to the marketplace. Thor's clothes were too large by half, so she'd stolen a pair of Loki's trousers, as they were most likely to fit for now. Perhaps she looked a bit strange with her shirt of mail on top, but it would do. Besides, it gave her some comfort to wear it--it had been woven especially for her when she'd finally completed training. The links were fine, movable, and had been mended seamlessly after more battles than she could count. She felt naked without it.

There were many marketplaces to choose from, but many were easily accessible by foot, so with a pouch of the money Thor had shown her, Sif set off to explore this East Midtown, paying more attention to the humans and cars than the shops at first. When she finally slowed down to look through some of the windows, she pursed her lips. There was little on display that seemed likely to turn aside a sword.

Comments

[sam_wilson]

Sam had seen odder. Really he had, he did live in the dichotomy of Brooklyn after all, and the hipster end was always dressing weird. But he hadn't often seen many women who preferred mail. Well crafted to his inexpert eyes. He wondered if that would be a good thing for his patrols, but that's not what he was in the city for today.

He broke New York protocal, and approached the strange woman, ready to back off if she wasn't as foreign as she looked. "Are you looking for something?"

He was careful not to call her ma'am. Last time he'd done that in-city the woman in question had fired insult after insult after him that would have done some of his kids proud.

[thelady_sif]

Sif turned to the man who'd addressed her. Midgardians seemed to be a helpful lot, or this one was. Since she'd begun her journey, not many of them had seemed in the mood to speak to strangers, actually.

Still, traveling out among them did make her feel less strange in her outfit at least, if some of their choices were anything to go by.

"I require suitable clothing," she said simply, then glanced over her shoulder at the shop window, "and I was told this was your marketplace."

[sam_wilson]

Definitely a foreigner. "Yeah, this is a store. What kind of clothes do you want?" He wondered if maybe she'd been at a re-enactment in the park and gotten her clothes stolen. That would explain a few things. She shouldn't have left her clothes where someone could get at them. Recipe for disaster every time.

[thelady_sif]

"Whatever the local people wear, I suppose," she said with a wave of her hand at the street traffic that flowed around them on the pavement as if she and this mortal were rocks in a stream. "Though they seem to wear a little bit of everything, don't they? I'm not sure I have enough coin for that."

Perhaps she should've asked Thor what the local fashions were, if only to see the look on his face at being forced to answer such a question. If this place had norms that were anything like Asgard's, perhaps she should steer herself toward mens' clothing and see how that worked out.

[sam_wilson]

"Which local people?" Sam asked. And then he paused. "What do you wear at home? How much clothes do you need?" And this is why most people didn't ask people if they needed help. There went his intention to grab a baseball game. He couldn't exactly just turn her loose.

[thelady_sif]

"You know...people of Earth?" she said as if he were slow. She couldn't exactly call them Midgardians and expect to be understood; besides, if she meant to stay it was time she settled into the local speech.

"I'm used to wearing clothes more suitable to fighting. I'm like one of your soldiers," she explained. "I only wear gowns when I have to, so there's no need to point me to that kind of store." That should narrow it down.

[sam_wilson]

Sam rolled his eyes a little. At least she'd narrowed it down a smidgen. So something like one of his girl friends would wear. "Do you have undergarments on?" He wondered if she just automatically stayed in character while dressed for historical re-enactment. "Like, bras and underwear?"

[thelady_sif]

Sif's eyes widened. "What possible business is that of yours?" This mortal wasn't as friendly as he'd seemed, apparently, but she was used to such questions from the men she'd fought alongside who weren't nearly as accepting as Thor of a female within their ranks.

"You'll mind your business and your tongue, or I'll cut it out for you," she said tersely. Ordinarily this would the part where she toyed with her dagger to make her point, but she was given to understand people didn't openly display their weapons in this realm.

[sam_wilson]

"Because if you want your clothes to fit you have to start with underwear," Sam said patiently. "And if you want help, I'd suggest you don't threaten your help. Also my girlfriends say a proper-fitting bra is the best thing ever, and a badly fitting one is worse than no bra at all. There are stores for that shit."

[thelady_sif]

"Where I come from strange men don't ask women what sort of undergarments they have on if they don't want to be threatened," she pointed out, raising a brow.

"Perhaps I should just try some things on and find what's comfortable. I can do that here, right? And if it's all the same to you I'll figure out my own undergarments."

[sam_wilson]

"Sounds like a plan," Sam was relieved There was no worse place for a man than a lingerie shop. "Blue jeans good?" He gestured to his own jeans. "They're comfortable, and they last through rough and tumble."