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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

[thunderriere]

Whatever meetings you've had were not with me. My memory does not hold you, stranger, so you are a stranger to me.

[ don't THINK he's not seein that laundry list ur giving his bro!! ]

[craftpunk]

Well then, I should introduce myself.

I am Woden, and hopefully that is familiar to you.

[thunderriere]

Ah, yes. I've heard of you.

Bearded. Purple. Consistently naked. Worry not; your reputation precedes you.

[ thanks mishina ]

[craftpunk]

Do I...look bearded, naked, or purple?

[ A sigh, it sounds like an engine. ]

Think the proto-version of Odin. Anglo-Saxon style.

[thunderriere]

No, why would I know how you look today?

[ this guy?? thor throws another glance off-camera. ]

So. Themed fashion model? I'll admit, I've seen the like for Earth's great heroes, but honoring the gods this way is new to me. It's... flattering.

[craftpunk]

[ His helmet tips, as if he's rolling his eyes. ]

No, no. I am him. No fashion, it's...a part of my world's own pantheons. I'm the Woden of the modern age.

[thunderriere]

Right......

Is there something you wanted, Wood-man of the Modern Age?

[craftpunk]

To introduce myself? [ Oh my god he don't like u thor. ]

I was going to offer to pay bail, too, but if you're not interested...

[thunderriere]

[ excellent now never speak to him or his son brother ever again ]

Your delayed offer of generosity is noticed. It's taken care of.

[craftpunk]

[ Too BAD ]

Oh, excellent. I'm glad someone broke the bank for you.

[ A beat. ] You're from the odd world, aren't you? The one where the myths don't follow the same conventions as others?

[thunderriere]

Uh, I'm from Asgard? [ myths????? myths???????? ] We don't concern ourselves with the stories spun about us on Midgard.

[craftpunk]

[ He's like a puppy.

Woden HATES PUPPIES. ]

Who is Hel, to you?

[thunderriere]

Goddess of Death. Dead, hopefully. You're welcome.

[craftpunk]

Correct, so far, although no god truly dies -- at least in my world.

Is she related? To you?

[thunderriere]

It's only the brave and righteous dead that are permitted into the halls of Valhalla. Hela will find no gates open to her. She is consumed by the fires of Ragnarok, and resigned to the ash and dust of an Asgard destroyed by her ambitions.

[craftpunk]

Right. Right.

[ Great Speech, Thor. But he asked another question. ]

Perhaps I should be more blunt: Is she not Loki's progeny, in your world?

[thunderriere]

No, she's not Loki's progeny, [ fucking duh, ] since she was banished from Asgard thousands of years before Loki's birth. Nice try?

Honestly, how drunk were your scribes and storytellers, passing these tales down? I think the only detail any of you have gotten right is the one I told you first.

[craftpunk]

In my world, she is. [ A beat. ] And most of them were Nordic, so likely very drunk, but I have...ancestral knowledge, I suppose you could say, being reborn so many times.

In my world, she has the brothers Fenrir and Jǫrmungandr, as well as Narfi. I think your world may be different to mine. It's common.

[thunderriere]

Right, yeah, tell me, what planet were you born on again?

[craftpunk]

I was gestated in Ginnungagap, the space between the cosmos, where the fires of Muspelheim and the ice of Niflheim met between the worlds.

[thunderriere]

Is that so? Funny, because I seem to recall you saying you were reborn many times, so you certainly wouldn't be from there now.

So, which is it? Oh, or is your own history only myth to you as well?

[craftpunk]

I simplified it for you. You didn't seem capable, nor interested, in grasping the specifics of the recurrence.

I was doing you a favor.

[thunderriere]

You find yourself a poor smith at lying, and try to wrap your failure in charity.

[ he's been dealing with loki for like ten million years u really wanna play i was trying to be nice ]

Your life will end centuries before mine, human, yet you still manage to waste my time. Enough.

[ odinson OUT. ]