Illustrations of Appetite (Steve)

[aa_valkyrie]

A run-in at SHIELD Headquarters having brought to light that both Steve Rogers and Valkyrie are hungry, the former can't possibly fail to invite the latter to take lunch with him. How rude would that be! He has an address written down on a piece of paper, neatly folded in his pocket until they get closer to their destination and he pulls it out and unfolds it to remind himself of the address written on it. "I've been trying different foods," he tells Valkyrie. "They didn't have so many in New York -- back when." It's an Ethiopian restaurant he eventually stops in front of, before he steps forward to open the door for her, that is.

That would be so rude! Steve Rogers is nothing if not a paragon of politeness and decency -- he is Captain America, after all. Dressed casually, Valkyrie strides along comfortably at his side as the pair of striking blondes move down the street. "That seems a fine venture to me. This world is far more mixed now than it was before, may as well sample its wares," she agrees easily. Her steps come to a stop as Steve steps forward to hold open the door for her, causing her to stare at him. What? Aren't you going to enter that door you've opened there?

Steve stands there for another few awkward moments more before he figures out that Valkyrie isn't going to walk through the door. So he does, as pained as it makes him. (OH GOD IT HURTS.) He is warm and polite for the hostess as he requests a table for two, and they're quickly seated at a plain, comfortable table off to one side of the restaurant. Where Steve tries to hold out Valkyrie's chair next. LOOK IT IS JUST REFLEX. "I've never had African food before. I have no clue what it's supposed to taste like."

In those awkward moments, Valkyrie raises a fair brow and nods towards the door. When he finally enters, she follows him and offers a smile for the hostess as he sees to their table reservations. Poor Steve. While he moves to hold out the chair, she walks around to the other side of the table and seats herself with a confused expression. Strange man. "I did not realize you wished that chair," she says with a smile, dropping down into the opposite chair. "It is good. I have never eaten of Ethiopia, but I found that food of the North to be quite delicious."

"Oh. I was--" But Steve is smart enough to just plop himself in the seat instead. "Nevermind. You've been to Africa, then?" He opens up the menu and looks down at it curiously.

"Many years past. The Maasai are some of the finest warriors of the region, fierce with the spear and the orinka." A feral delight touches Valkyrie's features, mouth curving in an approving smile. She also picks up the menu.

"Do you--" Steve lifts his gaze to look at her, thoughtful. "I'm sorry, I hope this doesn't sound rude, but -- what exactly do you do here? On Earth?"

"I am Valkyrie." That is not much of an explanation, Val. After a moment, she folds her menu to regard Steve with a cool, clear gaze. "To be Valkyrie is a sacred duty. We carry the worthy dead to Valhalla, to feast in honor. Those you would call 'heroes', sparing them death to quiet and offering eternal glory in its place."

Steve regards her with a clear, careful study. "Valhalla," he echoes her curiously. "What exactly is it? I'm not exactly up-to-speed on my Norse mythology. Or--" He looks briefly embarrassed. "Reality."

The pull of her grin is wry, tugging out the small crows feet that mark the corners of her eyes in humor. "Asgard is all too real," Valkyrie agrees, draping an arm over the back of her chair. "For the dead, it is a place beyond Hel -- the realm of the dead -- but it is also home of the Valkyrie. If you ask Thor of it, he will disagree and tell you it is the Hall of Odin. Both, are true...like your cities named London?" She strums her fingers on the back of chair, tipping her head. "What of you, Captain? What do you do now that you are not a man at war?" Somebody has been reading the files.

"London?" Steve says, a little blank. (To the connection, not what the actual city is, GOD.) "Oh. Well, I mean, right now -- there's not a war going on, not like before, but there are still things that need doing. I think we're going to keep on being Avengers for a while."

"There is a place with that name in the United States. Is there not? I know there is a Paris as well," Valkyrie says with a furrow to her brow. Those are similar things, right? One might think she went to the wrong one once... (Probably) "This is true. Does it keep all your time? I meant when you are not avenging."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. So you have more than one home?" Steve glances over with a smile as the waitress comes by to take their drink orders. He's easy and affable with her, asking after the most Ethiopian of the beverages on the menu, and she eventually recommends a traditional Ethiopian honey-wine (while warning them of its strength). Steve just smiles at her and says, "I think we'll be okay, miss. Thank you." And off she goes again. Looking back to Valkyrie, he says, "Well, I'm doing a lot of catching up, I guess. People have mentioned that maybe I could take classes at one of the universities."

"No. Although, I suppose I could consider the Earth one." Val inclines her head politely to the waitress, nodding in agreement at Steve's order. Wine. Good. "Do you wish to pursue such education? I admit to not understand the purpose of it, if the knowledge is not your passion," she admits with a shrug.

"Well. It'd help me -- get acquainted with the world," Steve says, his smile faint. "I might like -- studying art. I wanted to when I was younger, but I couldn't afford it."

"I see." Valkyrie smiles in understanding, dipping her chin in a nod. "Are you any good? Art is...interesting. It has progressed much."

"I'm decent," Steve says with a shy sort of smile, too self-effacing to say much more of his own skill. "I -- wanted to draw comic books when I was young. Be an illustrator."

"As those in the newspapers? They can be very funny," Val approves with a grin, rapping her knuckles on the back of a chair.

"No, those are comic strips," Steve says, because some things have at least remained the same. "Comic books are a little more -- involved. Separate publications."

"You shall have to show me. This is not a type of thing that I am familiar with," Val decides, tipping her head in interest. "Is it like a book of the strips?"

"Kind of," Steve says with a wry smile. "But -- well, the stories are set up a little differently, because they come with several pages per issue."

Reaching for her water to sip, Val wonders, "What kinds stories do they tell?"

"Stories about superheroes, mostly," Steve says, his smile a bit abashed, considering the current situation.

"You could make a self-portrait," Valkyrie suggests, lacking even a hint of teasing in her frank suggestion. It is a thing artists do.

"Oh, I don't think I need to do that," Steve says, already embarrassed at the very idea. He looks down at his menu with renewed focus. "Combination," he reads. "Little of everything. That seems the best idea, right? I think the idea is that we're supposed to share."

"It would be interesting. I would look -- or read it?" Valkyrie decides amiably, lifting her glass of water in a salute of his work. She has just enough social graces to follow his redirection to the menu, setting aside her glass. "Yes. How about --" She goes through a number of suggestions for what is sure to be a delicious lunch.

"In some ways, comics now are a lot different, but in other ways, they're comfortingly similar." And then Steve moves on to finalizing their order to form a lunch that delights at least one party with the entirely unfamiliar taste and experience of it. Expanding horizons!

Val and Steve do lunch.