fossilised | Jotunheimr

Jotunheimr

Thor Odinson was not ready to be King.

That much had become suddenly and sharply clear to Odin All-Father, a sharp pain that he would rather not have had. He had been blinded too long by love for his only heir, seeing only his affable way of gaining friends and his strength on the battlefield, but ignoring how he had become spoiled and arrogant. He had glossed over the reports from Thor's tutors that his son had not studied the other realms or the duties of a King as he should, and had instead spent much of his youth carousing with his favoured companions, hunting or getting into trouble together.

But this... this was beyond a childish scrape.

Egged on by his friends, or so it had come out since the act, Thor had decided to go to Jotunheim - a forbidden act - for the sole purpose of finding one of its inhabitants and slaying it. A proof of his mettle as a warrior, to kill one of the fearsome giants, the monsters of the icy realm. He felt ashamed, sick at heart that his only son could be so ignorant as to think that any race were just monsters. He might have hoped these were just rantings, but he saw preparations begin to take place and he knew that they meant to commit treason by disobeying his orders of no contact with Jotunheim and perhaps start another war.

Arrangements were hastily made, pushed through Frigga who had more goodwill remaining to her among the Giants, and when Thor arrived at the Bifrost, he would find Odin standing by the great sword rather than Heimdall, his one eye forbidding.

"Why are you so eager to seek out war, my son?"

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Why is it that everyone is just so annoying? Stephen makes a big show of rolling his eyes which, along with the facial hair, makes him seem almost like Tony. “If you’re looking for a title, Doctor will do, Captain,” he says and snaps his fingers, dumping both Thor and Loki from the ceiling.

Thor doesn’t look annoyed, though he does jump immediately to his feet to stand over Loki.

“Do not do that again. I will not be teleported without warning.” It’s said like a man that’s been far too often teleported around without his consent, though Strange doesn’t seem bothered by that fact. Given Loki’s skill, he does not doubt it.

“I won’t as long as you don’t break anything else of mine,” he states blandly. “Now what do I owe the pleasure?”

Loki looked far less flustered, more irritated than anything, and he landed more gracefully on his feet than Thor on his face. It was touching, though, that the man he hoped would become his intended had instincts to protect him.

"Your doors are made of flimsy material, and no intent was made to break them. If they cannot stand up to even a friendly knock of introduction, the fault is not ours."

Loki took a seat by Steve Rogers and summoned his own glass of wine, since that seemed to be what was happening here.

"We have come to discuss the artefact you possess, the one around your neck now."

There’s literally no well in hell (or anywhere else) that Strange is going to give up the Eye. He stares at Loki for a moment before laughing and shaking his head. “I think it might be best for everyone if you three leave.”

He doesn’t want to have to fight, but he will. He knew he shouldn’t have just allowed the aliens to leave, knew he should have kept a better eye on them. Any visitor to this planet, according to the tomes, have never come in peace.

Never.

There’s always something more to them and Stephen lightly taps the inside of his cloak to keep it from reacting to his agitation.

Loki might want to discuss the Eye, but he knows what that will lead to.

"We have not come to take it forcibly from you, only to speak with you about what it truly is and the risk it poses your entire realm by remaining here."

Loki intended to keep this as diplomatic as possible, even if it would be easier to simply slaughter Strange and take the infinity stone without further protest. But to refuse to even discuss it was worrying.

"I do not believe that you fully understand what it is that you possess."

Maybe how to use it, or a fraction of what it's capable of, but surely not where it came from or who might be seeking it.

The problem with this, that none of them had even considered, would be what the Eye thought of this. Of course it didn't have true sentience, but it was an object of incredible power and it could sense those with greater power nearby. Strange had been its best chance to be taken out of the vaults and used, allowed to send signals out to Thanos that it existed, but here...? It sensed the Asgardian and Jotnar, races far more attuned to power than Midgardians, and it made its choice.

Suddenly, without warning, the Eye began to activate. The metal surrounding it slid open and all at once Strange would be enveloped in a brilliant light. He aged in the blink of an eye - his skin becoming wrinkled, his eyes growing dull, and then he was gone. His flesh rotting, his bones crumbling, until nothing remained but the Eye, closed once more on the ground.

Loki had barely started to react when it was over, but as soon as he could he had a shield of seidr over the Eye to protect the rest of them.

Edited 2018-02-17 13:42 (UTC)

As surprised as Thor was to see a man turn to dust before their eyes, he was far more surprised to see the way that their other human companion reacted. He’d been rushing towards the gem as if to throw himself on top of it when Loki cast his shield and the man bounced clear from it to skid to a halt at their feet.

The larger blond looked down at their Guide’s companion and arched both eyebrows. “Were you trying to see if you could be desecrated as well?”

It seemed likely, though a good portion of Thor was also certain that Rogers had been acting bravely to try and save them. He found that striking.

Thor reached down to pull the other to his feet before he glanced at Loki.

“Why would it kill its possessor now? Do you think this is the work of the destroyer?”

"I do not know, I know little about how the stones work, but it concerns me. I do not know if it is safe to move it, we ought to leave it in place with guard while we send word to the All-Mother for advice."

Frigga was the most accomplished sorceress in any of the realms and had worked closely with the All-Father for many years, if any could offer insight as to the behaviour of this gem, it would surely be her. For now, though, it would be the wisest to leave it here on Midgard, at least until they had answers.

Whenever Tony arrived, having left his mysterious man with the prosthetic arm, he would find Steve looking shaken up next to a pile of dust, while Thor and Loki seemed to be talking to a random crow that they had found outside. While this crow was not an ideal messenger, such as a raven of Asgard, it would do well enough.

Tony was not going to deal with Crazy Train Asgardian right now do he just let them go on talking to whatever birds they wanted to (it was better than eating them), and took a good look around the place. This didn’t really look real. He knew that some portions of London were all cascade to make them look like multiple homes, even if there were some buildings that only contained one large unit. But this one was still really weird.

Especially because Steve was staring down at a moving cloak under an invisible piece of glass covering some ash.

“Care to tell me what it is I’m looking at?” He asked, armor left downstairs by the door in sentry mode.

"That was Dr. Strange, the man we came to see. He just-- died. That thing on the floor opened up and killed him."

Steve was still sort of in shock, this felt like he was stuck in some weird science fiction movie. He half expected to wake up from a fever dream where that movie had got into his thoughts, and tell Bucky about it all while his friend laughed at the idea of super soldier serums and alien gods.

God, he wanted that to be true. His chest ached for it.

"You took your time getting here."

“I got busy,” Tony said, crouching to look at the used-to-be-person pile. He would have to get JARVIS to do a scan, but he was pretty sure that staying wherever here happened to be wasn’t the safest. Tony jutted his lower jaw out and scratched at his chin before turning to Steve, standing again. His hands slipped into his pockets. “I’ll need more details. Later. When we get home. I don’t like it here.”

And not just because there happened to be a wriggling piece of red fabric trying to get out from under glass.

He was relieved, however, to know that Loki hadn’t done this. He didn’t want to start a fight with something he didn’t understand. Steve would never cover for him, though.

He jerks his head for Steve to follow him when he actually feels the whole world beneath his feet shift and the very air seek to crystallize. Shit. Who called the Magic Police?

Steve was about to follow Tony when he also felt the ground shift underneath him. He took a quick step forward to brace Tony with his forearm to keep the other man from falling, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"What's going on?"

He really wished he had his shield with him now, but he had left it behind so as not to look threatening or too conspicuous. This was supposed to have just been a chat, and now someone was dead and the world was going funny.

They weren’t alone. Setting up these sorts of spells didn’t take a master, but it certainly helped to have the will enough to copy and control reality when there were dangerous people in the sanctuary that the Sorcerer Supreme was supposed to be guarding. Unfortunately, it also helped the catch the actual dangers and not a few super powered humans, both of which had come unarmed.

“What happened to Stephen Strange?”

Tony smirked at the guy in the traditional Chinese getup and arched an eyebrow. “Dehydration machine gone wrong? Pissed off a banshee? Someone destroyed his painting?” The Asian man didn’t look pleased.

“No. The Eye reacted. All of London may be in danger.”

“That’s Doctor Who’s territory. We’re New Yorkers.” Tony conceded.

"The Eye, as you call it, made this choice without outside influence," Loki attested, turning from his confabulation with Thor, as the larger man threw the bird into the air and watched as it disappeared into the sky. The message would get through to Frigga, he had no doubt about that. "We must keep it contained until help arrives."

Except that would be too late coming, and Loki, accomplished sorcerer that he was, couldn't stand up to the power of an infinity stone. A crack from within the shield sounded and, though nothing seemed to have changed yet, ripples were spreading through time in both directions.

"Come," Loki murmured. "We can do little here before the All-Mother arrives. Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, you ought to return to your lives, we can call for you when we require your company again."

It’s not like they had a choice and though Tony immediately protested being left out of cool things, a touch was all it took to send him and Steve back to the Tower.

That left Thor with the second guardian of the Infinity Stone, though he was much more willing to let Loki and Thor deal with it then Strange had been. The largest of the three turned towards the Asian human and set a hand to his broad shoulder.

“I am sorry for the loss of your friend. In a way, he died in battle and I believe he resides now in Valhalla.” It was the nicest thing he could think to say to an accidentally disintegrated pile of ash

Whatever shield these human sorcerers could create to separate reality from a pocket dimension was immediately smashed as the Bifrost carrying the All-Mother shattered it. It wasn’t often that Frigga traveled alone, however, and so this matter had to be very grave.

“You did well to call me,” she told Loki after touching her son on the elbow in passing. A wave of her hand dismissed Loki’s spell and she crouched to fetch the Eye from the dust. It showed her no harm and she smiled, immediately understanding what had happened. The amulet was tucked into her gown as she stood again. “Let us all return to Asgard,” she said and lightly touched Loki’s face, letting the blue bleed through the pink of his current countenance. Another spell. One to guard him from the sickness he’d felt last time in the warm Realm Eternal.

Loki was more grateful than he would ever show for being allowed to keep his form, his true form, and not suffer the effects of the Asgardian heat. He did not understand how anyone could stand in this sun and not feel as though they were a piece of fish on the fire for cooking.

Give him the ice and snow any day.

Though Asgard was beautiful, and it was rich, he would learn to love it as dearly as he loved Jotunheim when he resided here as All-Mother. He would find a way to make it work as both All-Mother and Loki-King, an ambition he had not yet given up on. To this end, he stood back fairly obediently when Frigga took the Eye and transported them all to the Realm Eternal.

Back down on Earth, Tony would at least find that all of his excitement had not completely finished. The mysterious man with the advanced arm who had vanished before, returned despite all the odds, breaking in once again to stand at the foot of his bed as he slept... which isn't at all creepy.

Tony hadn’t slept in just over 36 hours so when he finally did get to sleep, it was a rough one. Alone in the Tower, he didn’t have Pepper there to shake him awake and Steve was off making charcoal pictures on the sidewalk of some café. Not that Tony had checked on him or anything, but before falling face first into bed, okay yes, he had checked.

The presence looming over him was enough to stir him to wakefulness full and he jumped out of bed in a huff, foot wrapped in the blankets, and fell in a heap. His shoulder exploded in pain and he groaned.

“I knew it. You really are trying to kill me,” he complained, rolling onto his back but otherwise not moving.

Even though Stark rose up suddenly and then fell in an ungraceful heap, the man who stood watching him didn't move. No-- not just the 'man', he had decided on a name for himself now. He would try and reclaim James, at least for now.

"If I were trying to kill you, you'd be dead."

In contrast to the last time he was here, when his words had been mostly Brooklyn accented, this time he had a strong Russian twang to his voice, not that he seemed to notice.

"The coolant is still damaged, and now other systems have become damaged."

“No one asked you to be a smart ass.” Tony wasn’t sure what to make of the accent change, and yes, actually, he did notice it. He had a lot of dealings with Russians and he happened to speak it fluently, like he did so many languages he needed to do business in. The guy was a genius as well as a polyglot and so picking out the language spoken from all of the other languages that shared common roots with Russian was easy. Just to see what would happen, he decided to switch to that particular language. “Didn’t I tell you that it was a bad idea to wait?”

If the systems are failing this quickly, there probably was a leak somewhere and that meant he really had to get into that arm. He had no idea where it might connect to the rest of the man’s body, not until he did some proper scanning, but Mr. Cyborg was more skittish than an abused cat.

He needed to be firm here.

“Come on down the lab.”

James switched over to Russian just as seamlessly, perhaps moreso, because it seemed as though he spoke it as fluently as a native and, if Tony were really that good, he might recognise a Siberian accent to it.

"You're the son of Howard Stark," he said, apparently incongruous to the conversation at large, though he did obey and follow the smaller man down towards the lab without further complaint.

"I saw photographs of him, you look sort of similar."

He had been at the Smithsonian museum just a few days ago, drawn there for answers that were only just starting to come to him.

Hey, hey, hey. Tony’s a genius, maybe the smartest guy in the world, or close to it, but he’s not good enough with the thousands of Russian dialects that there are. Siberia isn’t known to be a capital of industry either.

“Thanks for reminding me about dad. Don’t hold it against me,” Tony said as he rubbed the sleep from his eye and rotated his shoulder around. Ow. No really. That had hurt. He snagged coffee on the way, brewed by JARVIS who was always just so good to him, and didn’t bother to offer anything to Bucky.

This might involve surgery.

And you shouldn’t have anything in your stomach if that’s the case. ”He’s dead, by the way, so if you were hoping for an autograph, you’re about twenty years too late.”

"I know, I read about him at the museum."

He doesn't bother to say which museum, though there are exhibitions and small plaques to Howard Stark at a number of museums dedicated to science and technology. His mention in the Smithsonian is actually his smallest plaque, just a footnote of Captain America's much bigger story.

"He was a jerk."

Wait.

Why did he say that? It just sort of slipped out, like he knew first hand.

Tony snorted. “Yeah. He really was” That always came across in the articles, though Tony tried not to badmouth the guy that started the dynasty too much to the media. It was really no big secret how Howard Stark was an asshole womanizer, though. People just tended to ignore that in favor of his genius and the contributions he made to the world.

Was it right? No. But they tended to do the same to Tony. At least he’d settled down now. And was faithful.

“Have a seat. You’re going to have to help me out here with the compartments. I don’t want to go yanking at your nervous system again,” he muttered. He was much too self absorbed to realize what it was Bucky said.

James took a seat where he was told to-- or... he sat down for a brief half second and then stood again, before slumping down to sit on the floor instead. He was slowly beginning to learn his limits, and being worked on in a chair was one that would likely end in a world of pain for Stark.

"You can do it down here. And I can't help you, I don't understand how it works or how it's put together."

That hadn't been considered essential knowledge for the Soldier, he had just been required to lie still and obedient while others worked on him.

“Awesome. Okay. So I need verbal consent that if I accidentally kill you, I’m not at fault.” He wasn’t sure if the classic Good Samaritan Law applied here considering he was working on a crazy guy with a metal arm and too much ability to somehow break into his home.

He pulled up on the legs of his pants and the crouched to take a look at the things he might need. Gloves, obviously. Forceps. The usual toolkit—

He pulled up the scans JARVIS had already taken and compared them with the scans from the last time Mr. Cyborg came to visit. It wasn’t good.

“If I hit something vital, scream.”

Luckily for Tony, there wasn't any records of this man being alive at all and so nobody would come after him if he got killed doing this, nor would James be entirely too sad if he ended up dead.

His accent and language suddenly took a shift back to American, the twang of Brooklyn overlaid onto his words.

"I don't scream, and you're gonna hit vital things, that's how it's all connected. I'm sure you're as good an engineer as your old man, but do you have to talk as much?"

“Do you think you can stick to one accent?” Tony was already pulling on some gloves, red ones because he was an egoist, but he had to really put the kibosh on the talk about his father. “Dad still takes me to school sometimes but I gotta tell you, I’m pretty much the big cheese of the tech world. Guessing that’s why you’re here.” He didn’t mention that whoever made Bucky’s arm obviously was some sort of genius themselves. Crazy. Horrible. But a genius just the same. “I just—“

Wait.

“As much? Oh ha ha. You’re going to tell me that dad didn’t have enough love children so he decided to cut some guy up and attach some metal to him? Listen. That all goes through legal. You want some sort of payout, you talk to them.”

Tony pulled his tools over less gently and plopped down on the floor to get to start working. He was not too thrilled to say the least.

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