aa_valkyrie | Meet and Greet (Jane) (Reply)

Like a paranoid mad scientist (I said 'like', okay?), Jane hugs her precious notebook to her chest as she wanders the floors of Stark Industries. Her boots thump along the ground as she goes, laces starting to come undone. All the cool scientists are shabby like that. She pauses in front of an elevator, pressing the button. It promptly dings: what luck!

The elevator doors squeak open with a groan of protest following that ding. Allowing a very large blonde to duck through them, not looking where she is going and promptly run into Jane. Quite literally. Oh my. It's a bit like walking face-first into a bear, but less fuzzy. Valkyrie quickly reaches out to steady Jane, reflexes quick and apology heavy on her lips. "Gads. I am sorry."

Jane lifts a boot to step in, and -- loses her balance as some lady runs her down. "Ah!" She yelps, one hand peeling off her notebook to splay her palm at the oncoming Valkyrie. That doesn't really do much to steady her, so thank the heavens that Val is across it. Dr. Foster looks up. And then up some more. "Oh, um - no, it's okay," she shoots back, a little shakily. "I'm sorry!"

Jane doesn't fall on her ass at least? Strong hands grip her biceps, firmly if gently, righting her and keeping her on her feet as the both step away from the elevator. Hello accidental dance partner. Seeing that the small science-type person is righted, Valkyrie dips her chin in a nod and folds her hands behind her back. Dressed simply in jeans and boots, finished by a dark leather jacket, the large and decidedly archaic sword strapped across her back comes across as a just a /touch/ anachronistic. "It was my mistake. Are you well now? I hope that I did not damage your," there is a pause as pale eyes flit towards the notebook in her hands, "book."

Dance is a rather generous way of describing how Jane moves as she's handled out of the way; stumble, more like. She's wearing jeans, too. Ill-fitting ones, laced with a thick leather belt to keep them about her waist instead of her ankles. And one of those awful plaid shirts. She peers curiously at Valkyrie, given a moment to size the other woman up. "Huh? Oh, no." Blink. A cursory glance to her book proves it unharmed. "Tough leather cover," she explains. "I should have been standing back further."

Size: extra-extra-extra large with a tough leather cover. "Ah. I ought have taken the stair, I do not think this mode entirely agrees with me," Valkryie opines wryly, glancing back towards the still-dinging elevator.

"A lot of people have trouble with elevators," Jane replies with a bland smile. She narrows her eyes ever-so-slightly as she continues her study of Valkyrie. "You're..."

Wearing a sword? "Valkyrie," she offers, along with her hand.

Wearing a sword, yes. Jane is a little distracted by said sword, but alert enough to juggle her notebook over and reach for Val's hand with her own. "Jane Foster," she returns, a little brighter as her eyes alight back on Valkyrie's. "Asgardian?"

"By the blood of...has Thor met everyone in this city?" Valkryie wonders with dry humor, lightly exasperated, clasping the taken hand with a light touch. "I have done some work for his father." So, not quite.

"He's just exuberant," says Jane, a touch defensive. Just a touch. She leans to one side, peering around Val to see that the elevator has left without her. Nevermind. "Do..." The syllable is drawn out as Jane starightens. "You work here?"

Blonde brows arch at Jane's touching defense, but Valkyrie says nothing of it. "Ah -- No. Stark was interested in some equipment of mine. It seems that you do?"

"Your sword?" Is it impolite of Jane to guess to abruptly? She has been staring. Curiously! "Only recently. Nice place to work. Very high-tech. We don't have whiteboards here." 'We' -- isn't that adorable?

"Is it so conspicuous?" Valkyrie places a hand behind her neck, brushing her fingers against the hilt as if to check to see if it is still in one piece. What rude? "Ah...although you know Thor. It is no wonder. Yes, he was interested in it among other things," she amends. That is very adorable. She's already a native!

"Oh, no, you're fine," Jane lies through her teeth, friendly grin in place. Wearing swords is totally inconspicuous, Val. "Mr. Stark is very interested in Asgardian technology, weaponry. In all sorts of technology, actually. This building is a great example of -- would you excuse me, just..." She needs to press that elevator button again.

"Of course." Valkryie steps to the side and away from the button. A mild frown curves her lips, eyes narrowing briefly. "How interesting that one Asgardian could have such a wide effect. Where did you meet him?"

"Mr. Stark?" Jane asks over her shoulder as she depresses the button. "Ah, in this tower, actually. His HR people hunted me down. It wasn't really an offer I could refuse. He's very persuasive."

"I meant the Son of Odin. I do not disagree on your assessment of Tony Stark. He could charm apples from the maidens of the tree," Val quips, crossing her arms as she leans against the opposite wall. "I do not believe that he is in the game of making offers which can be refused."

"Ohhhh," understanding dawns, and Jane's smile dimples. "Thor. We met awhile ago, in New Mexico." She glances off into the distance for a moment as the memory returns. Aww. "I suppose I'll see you around a bit then, if Mr. Stark is analysing your sword?"

"I see." Valkyrie cants her head inquisitively, smile slight for their shared acquaintance of sorts. "It seems likely, yes. Or should you have difficulties with further...unwanted guests. I am to understand that such things are common of late."

Jane is not elaborating on that memory, Val. You can infer from her (fleeting) dreamy, far-away gaze, can't you? Her smile has tightened nervously now, and she shifts. Shifts her stance, shifts her notebook. She shifts. "I... yes. Uh, I'm not certain how much of that I'm allowed to disclose, actually. But, um... I'm glad Mr. Stark is working on extra security."

Infer. Ignore. Something like that. Chill blue eyes follow Jane's nervous shifting patterns, Val's lips pressing flat at the sight of it. "Be not afraid, Jane Foster. There are many who will seek to keep you safe. No man such takes well to visitors breaching the walls of his castle," she notes. "If you have need of it, you may call for my aide as well."

"I don't suppose you have a cellphone," Jane wonders with a slight grimace.

Valkyrie's features brighten with a slight smile, hands fishing around in one pocket of her jacket and then other other until she extracts a phone. "I have not much skill with it, but yes." It is blocky and very simple. Clearly intended for doing little more than sending and receiving calls.

"Oh, you do?" Jane seems surprised. "Well, okay. What's the number?" She mustn't have her own cell on her, because she's unclipping a pen from her notebook's cover to jot it down, rather than fishing for a phone.

The phone is shoved back into Val's pocket as she very tenuously lists a string of numbers with the awkwardness of a child trying to recall a new skill. It is the correct length and parse for a phone number, so let's hope that is it. She may clumsily pull out of the phone ago to double-check, graceful movements at odds with the slowly acknowledge skill. "Strange device. It will ring and I will come."

Jane scribbles it down, and lifts her eyes to ponder Valkyrie skeptically. Is it the correct number? Perhaps she'll test-dial later. Perhaps she'll be too distracted to bother. "Alright," she says, repeating the number back once. "I'll give you a bell if I need you." The elevator dings again.

Ding. "There is yours." The elevator bell. "I will come," Valkyrie simply states, offering a formal nod. Then she turns on her heel to disappear down one of the twisting all hallways.

Kinda?