<div class="floatleft">(http://i188.photobucket.com/albums/z302/redwillowwitch/lady_sif_dark_world_by_bucfan98-d6s6afs_zpsee9006b0.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><strong>Name:</strong>  Lady Sif<br/><br/><strong>Location:</strong> United Nations<br/><strong>Time:</strong> 1400<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> Anyone<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>  Armor <br/><br/>"Come then mechananical fiends and taste a prepared warriors wrath!" Sif's voice echoed through the now ruined hallways of the United Nations building. She had been sent, at the behest of her Lord Odin, to make overtures to the people of Midgard thanks to Thor's recent dalliances in their realm. Assurances, agreements. She held little talent in these things, but more so then perhaps Thor and her "honor guard" the Warriors Three. Hogun had refused to talk to anyone, Volstaag, only the caterer, and Fandral only the women. She had been plotting some means of escape when the voice, booming as one had echoed through the hallways even as the beams of energy struck and shattered the glass. Hogun and Fandral had been lost in the initial wave of the Robotic Men, screaming their ultimatum of Submit or Die. She'd lost sight of Volstaag. The human guards had hustled their charges out of the room. The building had been rocked with several explosions, and had seemed to transform itself from a stately tower to rubble in a matter of seconds. <br/><br/>She herself had taken a blast of some kind, her mind drifting back to the battle with the destroyer. She had managed to slip a hand beneath the insipid diplomatic robes she was wearing and grasp her shield, though the blast had sent her spinning backwards. Her sword fell out of her grasp, tumbling down several floors through the ruined building until it dropped from site. Hissing a curse, she had snatched up the closest thing at hand, Hogun's mace, striking the heavy thing into one of the drone's chest with all her strength. She let out a war cry of delight as she dented the thing, something in it sparkling as it toppled. A file cabinet crashed into her back, sending her into the walland leaving a dent of plaster. <br/><br/>Groaning, she had stood and turned, prepared for whatever she may find, except for the dozen of the things hovering in front of her. Her hand had spun the mace once, before she glanced out the ruined wall of the building. MOre of the things were gathering, hovering. Even the most battle hardened warrior needed to know when to retreat. "Forgive me my friends..." she whispered, even as she moved in a fluid motion, rolling forward and grasping the belt from around Fandral's charred corpse, she yanked his sword free. Raising her hand, she smashed the mace down into the floor, crumbling it beneath her, dropping out of sight even as she feels the heat sear the nape of her neck from above. Falling through three floors before her motion is finally halted and she springs forward. Her shield extended forward as she crashed through the plate window and dropped to the ground below. The world around her shrouded in battle as she moved, trying to remember these strange streets, and where Thor's allies were to be found. </span>