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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]

[ unfortunately, thor hasn't the first idea what any of these responders look like, so Hair Envy and Mourning will have to wait.

still, he looks a little perplexed by the assessment. ]

I don't think either of us would need to receive such a grand residence... nor would we want it covered in blood. [ uh???? ] We are not gods of sacrifice.

A regularly-sized home clean of blood will suffice.

[fehus]

An uber's a car ride from a stranger. It'd be like someone else getting blood on your favourite [???] horse? Chariot?

[a shrug with his hands]

You do sort of give off that impression right now, FYI. The gods of sacrifice thing.

[thunderriere]

Oh. That's nothing, we'll walk.

[ he pauses, though, lips pursing. ]

What gives you that impression? Is it the haircut? It wasn't my decision.

oh dip it never sent from my phone SORRY

[fehus]

The haircut's fine. Kind of Roman and butch? But it's more the blood all over you.

IT HAPPENS

[thunderriere]

Thanks. But the, uh, blood, well, it's mine? No sacrifices, just good old battle-sweat. Nothing to worry about.

[fehus]

I'm a little more worried now? Um. I know Asgardians are tough as dwarven toenails and all, but if you need a heal, that's like, my thing? I guess.

[yeah, Thor definitely doesn't remember him. it makes something in his chest sink a bit; but he's still happy to see him around again, regardless. getting along (?) with his brother]

[thunderriere]

I'll be fine. I've recovered through worse today already.

[ thor is that really reassuring to anyone, no
but then again, the only tell for the injury is the blood itself — there's no stress in his expression, or any of the tightness that comes with suppressed pain. ]

You are a Healer by trade?

[fehus]

Um. By genetics. [...well] I'm half Vanir. My dad is the god Frey. I know that probably means something different to you, and he's someone different to you, but, uh. Yeah.

[he actually doesn't know much about what Frey might be like, in Thor's universe. he'd been sort of avoiding asking, the first time around]

I'm glad you're not hurt.

[thunderriere]

[ who tf is frey? well, it's not like he knows everyone in the nine realms by name, so more importantly: ]

A Vanir? You're from Vanaheim?

[fehus]

Well we don't come from Niðavellir.

[thunderriere]

Right, you're much too short to be a dwarf.

[ obviously. ]

Was it only you drawn here?

[fehus]

[that's a new one. actually, they're both new ones, but given that everything in his universe practically can shapeshift, why the fuck not. let those tall dwarves glide like models down a runway for all he cares]

What do you mean?

[thunderriere]

Do you have any countrymen here. Are you the only one from Vanaheim?

[fehus]

Nah. And I'm from Boston. I live in Asgard, in Valhalla. Didn't get into Folkvanger even if it's the ancestral home or whatever, which sucks, 'cuz the chili and music there is way better.

[thunderriere]

[ ........ hang on. ]

So you're... dead?

[fehus]

So I'm dead. And lacking in good tex mex.

-- Um. It's okay. [he got better. well, no, he didn't.]

[thunderriere]

But you're alive... now... ?

[ is he, how would darcy put it, "getting punk'd" ? ]

[fehus]

No. I'm still super dead, and usually dying more in daily training. I'll be dead and dying and seventeen forever. Until Ragnarok comes, or hopefully doesn't? Them's the rules in my Valhalla.

[he suddenly feels weird talking about it, for once, not because of his own baggage, but what he knows of Thor's]

Sorry, this is starting to feel weird. I should be honest. Um, we met before. I know Valhalla's not a place you can access. [which feels weird. the gods in his world can walk in and out of Odin's hall of the slain, whenever. hel, so can he] I'm an einherji, too.

[thunderriere]

Oh, Ragnarok, yeah. That's over. Surtur blew up the planet this afternoon. It was pretty impressive.

[ he says it all very quickly, dismissively, for more reasons than he's willing to name. ]

You're making less and less sense, Vanir.

[fehus]

Magnus. Magnus Chase -- uh, son of Frey, hail and well met. [and all that good viking stuff] -- Wait, this afternoon? What the fuck?

[he knew Ragnarok had happened for Thor already, but -- was he really just okay on the same day his realm exploded?]

Um. I'm sorry. Wow, that's -- that's sort of an understatement. Uh, the multiverse is real and I've met a different you. And also the you that's in my universe, which is basically a different guy entirely. [...] I know you don't remember me, I just felt like I wasn't being upfront by not telling you. [he's descended from the god of balance, after all; he doesn't think it's fair to put people at a disadvantage, if he can help it] I know Ragnarok happened for you already and that it sucked. And that Surtr's a piece of shit as usual.

[thunderriere]

[ well. all that does sound fake as hell, but it's not the kid's fault if he got taken in by a charlatan. these things happen. it's usually loki's fault, but they do happen.

in any case, as much as Surtur is... Surtur, ]

Oh, no, Surtur was quite helpful. Explained the whole deal with Ragnarok, and my father, and managed to kill my sister, which was worth the whole... blowing up the planet, thing. He did his job a lot better than I thought he would.