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[thunderriere]

[ the video opens on the handsome face and stupidly broad shoulders of a rather cheery-looking man, which is a little at odds with the fact that he's in a holding cell in a Heropan police station. it looks like he's wearing some sort of leather-like tunic, like a lightweight armor; there's a bright blue pauldron covering one shoulder, the other bare, and there's clearly a cape attached on one side, but not the other. his hair and beard are both short, neatly trimmed, and his smile is a friendly, genuine sort — again, a little at odds with the scene behind him, where the sliding crossed-bar metal door separates the man from the wider view of the police station, several uniformed officials in the background going about their jobs. ]

[ also, he's got an eye patch. metal. ... literally, it's made of metal. there's a wicked-looking scar running beneath it, from his brow and across his cheek, so the covering is probably deserved. ]

Hello there, New Earth.

[ he waves at the camera. ]

It's quite a different planet than the last Earth I visited. A little less familiar, a little less besieged by aliens. Fewer wizards, maybe. Still mostly human, though, you've got that going for you.

[ although there's some din of other people in the ambient background noise, there's a suspicious-sounding cough caught suspiciously-close to the microphone; the man's single eye flicks away from the camera to instead stare at the suspiciously off-screen source. ]

What? Oh, come on, would you really have preferred an Earth full of Dark Elves?

[ he continues to stare at this suspicious someone off-screen; the camera shifts a little to the side, and starts to turn— ]

[ —there's a somewhat comedic-sounding yelp, and then... some sort of bird call? the camera jostles violently before being covered by something dark. ]

[ a heavy sigh follows. ]

Now you're just being absurd.

[ after a moment, the feed comes back to show a pretty brunette woman in a blue dress, looking like she tumbled in from a semi-casual renaissance faire. she stands stiffly, her arms crossed, sending an absolutely murderous glare towards the first speaker. her lips are pressed tightly together, and she seems to have no intention of actually saying anything. from elsewhere-further off-camera, a younger man's voice: dude! do Beyonce next! ]

You'll have to excuse my brother here. [ the one-eyed man indicates the brunette woman with an extended thumb; there are smears of blood on his fingers, a splash of red all across his palm. he smiles, but it's quite Tired. ] He's a bit of a coward when it comes to meeting new people. Always makes a bad first impression. I can't take him anywhere.

I told you I wouldn't include myself in this. [ the woman (apparently the man's "brother") finally speaks, but her words are hushed and angry, and directed at the one-eyed man. she reaches toward the camera—it swings away from her before she can grab it, and the picture is a blur of color. her voice continues from off-screen in an anxious hiss: ] I'm trying to keep a low profile. Stop talking before you completely ruin it.

If you wanted to keep a low profile, you shouldn't have gotten us arrested the day we got here.

[ the picture finally refocuses from a different angle; it's further away from our idiot leads, who are clearly distracted by their argument. ]

How was I supposed to know they'd overreact? You're the expert on this backwoods planet. [ he isn't given chance to interrupt; the woman barrels on, as if her few minutes of silence had only allowed her thoughts to build up pressure for a flood: ] We don't even have to be here, you know. I can just walk us out whenever we like. This cell isn't even enchanted. [ a beat. ] It's pitiful, really.

We're not becoming fugitives of human law because you don't want to pay bail after you stabbed a man in a diner.

[ the man rolls his single eye and shrugs his shoulders, but looks once more at the camera. he smiles, deflective. just a little spat between siblings! that's normal! ]

Sorry. Where are my manners? I am Thor, son of Odin of Asgard. Thank you for bringing me and my brother to your planet. Unfortunately, I've already had my share of being imprisoned this week, so if any of you would like to barter for my release, that'd be great, thanks.

[ he waves his hand toward the camera — yep, still covered in blood — and the feed ends there. ]

Comments

[killtime]

Are you? I guess it's lucky I consider stabbing a staple of friendship.

[notawitch]

[This smile is much more like a grin, and much more sincere.]

Finally, someone with some sense.

[killtime]

A knife can solve a lot of problems. Including your current one.

Probably less messy just to pay the bail though.

[notawitch]

As appealing as that sounds, I'm sure he would be quite cross with me if I tried, and I'd rather avoid that kind of inconvenience.

[A beat.]

Alas. As I am yet unfamiliar with this realm's coinage. [Guess they'll stay here to rot.]

[killtime]

[ Dryly: ]

Have you tried leveraging your feminine wiles?

[notawitch]

[She gasps and covers her mouth with a hand, as if scandalized by the very suggestion.]

How dare you, I am a lady!

[killtime]

I think we both know you're not just that.

[notawitch]

[Her eyes get bigger and dart away before maintaining contact again, and she breaks out in an uncertain smile. The picture of nervous confusion.]

What makes you say that?

[killtime]

Thor isn't subtle. You're obviously not human.

[notawitch]

And what makes you think I am who he says I am? Perhaps I stabbed him in self-defense.

[killtime]

He's the painfully honest sort, isn't he? You, on the other hand, I probably wouldn't turn my back on.

[ Wryly: ]

Which is, by the way, a compliment.

[notawitch]

[Oh Andy, don't you know flattery will get you everywhere.]

Well. I do like you.

[And so, just for her, he drops the illusion to reveal himself as he is. Well, for the most part. He still looks Asgardian, but the less time spent dwelling on that the better. He spreads his arms as if presenting himself for her appraisal.]

A pleasure to make your acquaintance.

[killtime]

That's a clever trick.

[ The corner of her mouth quirks up slightly. ]

They call me Andy.

[notawitch]

[He smirks in turn. She just keeps racking up points.

Not that this means he'll give anything else willingly.]

And "they" would be?

[killtime]

The people unlucky enough to associate with me. And you, if you want.

[notawitch]

[The grin turns sly.]

Perhaps I do.

[And here it is, the first time he has introduced himself since he first arrived in this misbegotten realm.]

I am Loki. [A beat, as his expression flickers.] Of Asgard.

[killtime]

[ And she too could introduce herself properly — Andromache of Scythia — but like Loki, she's been known to lie and keep secrets. ]

Well, the tricks and the stabbing make sense now. Should I be worried that we're getting along?

[notawitch]

Only if you're inclined to take things personally. [Says the hypocrite, but never mind.]

And what should I call you, now that I've generously shown you my hand?

1/2

[killtime]

Where people can hear and see us? Andy.

private

[killtime]

But against my better fucking judgement? My real name is Andromache of Scythia.

perma private

[notawitch]

[He raises an eyebrow at the sudden insistence on secrecy, but doesn't bring it up.]

Should that mean anything to me?

[killtime]

Not necessarily. But I'm a cagey piece of shit, and a name can give a lot away to people that do understand it.

Think of it as a show of good will. I don't get along with all the gods around here.

[notawitch]

Yes, I understand. I thank you for your honesty, and I assure you, your secret is safe with me.

[...Until he decides that giving it to someone else trumps any friendship they might have, but details.]

[killtime]

[ FAIR ENOUGH TBH ]

Don't get used to it. But while I'm being honest? Friendly warning for when one of us inevitably decides to do something shitty to the other — I have a couple tricks up my sleeve too. And I think we're both the type that's better to have at your back than at your throat.

[notawitch]

[He nods, with a hint of respect. He does like her.]

Duly noted. Andy.