He almost jumps as the interface comes to life. Would have instantly grabbed his shield if he wasn't kind of used to this from living with Tony. He's never used anything like this, this complex, but he's seen Tony use computer systems, seen the helper bots move on their own. There weren't many holograms in their little base, but there were a few. Small ones, little keypads. Enough that while it's weird, getting his hand moved to hold a pen that isn't really there above a surface that's also... not there, he's just gritting his teeth against the strangeness of the situation, focusing instead on the drawing.
"I don't care where," he mutters after a while, wracking his brain as he moves his hand, his fingers, as he sketches and erases, slowly forming the symbol out of his memory, chasing lines together with an ease he forgot he had. He's a natural artist, he just doesn't do anything with it. Never has. But lines and shapes come easy to him. Putting images on paper from his mind has never been a challenge, unless he tries to do it with words. "You can pick, I... can deal with pain."
Slowly, what he's sketching takes shape. It's a little complex, like the symbol from norse mythology but... simplified, slightly. Less complex than it is in its full form, maybe a bit innacurate. But he's seen the symbol every day for the last twelve years. Been woken up by it, sat by it at dinner, fought with it. He's seen it gleaming and etched in gold since the day their ship landed in the Arctic. It's the symbol of mjolnir. Of Torunn's father, and thus of Torunn herself. It's the symbol she'd carried around on her sword every day, the symbol that binds her to her weapon.
It's something simple that... it's his sister, through and through. She'd always obsessed over the stupid symbol, her tie to her father. And now... now it can be his tie to her. Even if she's gone. Even if-... he was starting to doubt that she'd come back to them at all, back home.
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"I don't care where," he mutters after a while, wracking his brain as he moves his hand, his fingers, as he sketches and erases, slowly forming the symbol out of his memory, chasing lines together with an ease he forgot he had. He's a natural artist, he just doesn't do anything with it. Never has. But lines and shapes come easy to him. Putting images on paper from his mind has never been a challenge, unless he tries to do it with words. "You can pick, I... can deal with pain."
Slowly, what he's sketching takes shape. It's a little complex, like the symbol from norse mythology but... simplified, slightly. Less complex than it is in its full form, maybe a bit innacurate. But he's seen the symbol every day for the last twelve years. Been woken up by it, sat by it at dinner, fought with it. He's seen it gleaming and etched in gold since the day their ship landed in the Arctic. It's the symbol of mjolnir. Of Torunn's father, and thus of Torunn herself. It's the symbol she'd carried around on her sword every day, the symbol that binds her to her weapon.
It's something simple that... it's his sister, through and through. She'd always obsessed over the stupid symbol, her tie to her father. And now... now it can be his tie to her. Even if she's gone. Even if-... he was starting to doubt that she'd come back to them at all, back home.
"Does this work?"