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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

[notawitch]

Why not?

[She seems genuinely confused.]

I've gathered all of these "imPorts" have abilities of some kind. Why yield to these humans when you have the power not to?

[cigarbribery]

...because a not-insignificant number of us are pretty much human, and yielding to the law here is a lot easier than trying to fight the locals. [He shrugs.] If they like you, you get pastries at a discount, for starters.

Plus not everyone got lucky and picked up a superpower that's actually useful.

[notawitch]

[OKay, sucks for you, but he's got plenty of power, so... what's your point.]

And what of those who did?

[cigarbribery]

Usually they take up the superhero life. [He sounds mostly resigned to that part.] Or they just decide to treat the whole thing as a vacation and not do anything. Or they do tear up the place sometimes, but that tends to end badly.

And besides, we live here for the time being.

[notawitch]

Superheroes. [A smirk plays on her lips, showing exactly what she thinks of that idea.]

You Midgardians have always had such limited imaginations.

[cigarbribery]

[That didn't sound good.]

I mean, we kind of need to. [Please god don't let this be another Healey situation.] We don't exactly know how to send ourselves home, for now, it's in our best interests to keep things not fucked up while we're here.