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Who: Lady Sif and Tim Drake
What: An explanation of the differences between gods and mortals, and a reclarification of boundaries
When: The night of Eridan's stupid question post
Where: wherever Tim decides to make his stand
[Tim Drake was an extremely lucky man, in that he was extremely lucky that Loki had kept his secret for so long. That there had been no adult Asgardians who knew what he had done, when he had done it, for it was very likely that no amount of pleading from Loki would have saved him from their wrath. That he had Loki pleading for him still. Asgardians took threats against their city and their people seriously; they were gods, not mortals, and to assault a god was to bring a host of them down on your head. They carried all the arrogance and power and expectations that went with being a god, too. They might work with Midgardians? But they were damn sure not on the same level as mortals, not at all, and quick to respond to insults and disrespect and threats with a heavy hand.
Sif had never cared for Loki when he'd been of an age with her, and felt strangely torn about the one she found herself looking after now. She wasn't sure that he needed her at all, or that she needed to be concerned for others over what he might get into. But he was Asgard, and Sif had devoted her entire life, everything she was to the defense of Asgard, body and soul. He could have any kind of enmity with Midgardians, if he wanted, but there was a line that couldn't be crossed, and it began and ended with assault on his person. He was, and always would be, Asgard's to deal with.
She's not a subtle person. Even if she tried to pass for human, she would be obvious, and Sif simply does not care enough to try. He could give her a merry chase, if he wanted; she's far from inclined to keep up with the sort of deflection and trickery a disciple of Batman could pull. But what she does have is superhuman strength, superhuman stamina, and thousands of years to cultivate the kind of patience and stubborn resolve to hunt for as long as she needed, from the most obvious places to the smallest out of the way corner, so they could have their talk.]
What: An explanation of the differences between gods and mortals, and a reclarification of boundaries
When: The night of Eridan's stupid question post
Where: wherever Tim decides to make his stand
[Tim Drake was an extremely lucky man, in that he was extremely lucky that Loki had kept his secret for so long. That there had been no adult Asgardians who knew what he had done, when he had done it, for it was very likely that no amount of pleading from Loki would have saved him from their wrath. That he had Loki pleading for him still. Asgardians took threats against their city and their people seriously; they were gods, not mortals, and to assault a god was to bring a host of them down on your head. They carried all the arrogance and power and expectations that went with being a god, too. They might work with Midgardians? But they were damn sure not on the same level as mortals, not at all, and quick to respond to insults and disrespect and threats with a heavy hand.
Sif had never cared for Loki when he'd been of an age with her, and felt strangely torn about the one she found herself looking after now. She wasn't sure that he needed her at all, or that she needed to be concerned for others over what he might get into. But he was Asgard, and Sif had devoted her entire life, everything she was to the defense of Asgard, body and soul. He could have any kind of enmity with Midgardians, if he wanted, but there was a line that couldn't be crossed, and it began and ended with assault on his person. He was, and always would be, Asgard's to deal with.
She's not a subtle person. Even if she tried to pass for human, she would be obvious, and Sif simply does not care enough to try. He could give her a merry chase, if he wanted; she's far from inclined to keep up with the sort of deflection and trickery a disciple of Batman could pull. But what she does have is superhuman strength, superhuman stamina, and thousands of years to cultivate the kind of patience and stubborn resolve to hunt for as long as she needed, from the most obvious places to the smallest out of the way corner, so they could have their talk.]
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