nexus_crossings | +1 King of Asgard

+1 King of Asgard

Thor really should have no right to be as cheery as he is right now. Mjolnir destroyed, his father dead, his eye ruined, Asgard exploded, the last of his people crammed together onto a single spaceship on their way to seek aslyum on Midgard, one cannot really say they've been having a good day, to put it mildly.

But it could be worse.

It's taken him years to fully understand what it means to sit on the throne of Asgard, and now that kingship falls to him at last, the lack of that throne doesn't bother him at all. Asgard isn't a place to rule, it's a people to guide. And even if they couldn't save all of them, those who remain are precious to him. A new start awaits them all on Earth.

Or so he hopes.

Thor strides down the corridor of the Statesman, cape billowing behind him as he navigates his way towards the bridge. Hmm. Or was it this way? It's so easy to get turned around in this blasted thing. But ah, the sound of a multitude of voices; surely this is the way.

It takes him a moment to realize that he's no longer surrounded by Asgardians, or even Korg's crew. No, the people here are of all shapes and sizes, and the sky above him suddenly opens up, wide and blue. Not on a spaceship anymore. How very strange to find himself suddenly transported across the galaxy - again - without so much as being shot through the Bifrost. His attention is caught by a familiar voice, and despite his confusion, a delighted grin lights upon his countenance to see his good friend Rogers giving prerecorded messages in his battle regalia.

Perhaps this is Midgard, then? But no, the more he listens, the more he understands. A place between the worlds, hmm. A place to seek counsel, and befriend countless warriors from across the universe. Thor crosses his arms over his chest, and contemplates what question he should ask. Something somewhat relevant to his current situation, perhaps. "If you were put in a position of power, what would you first command?"

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"Neat," she says, her bright smile returning. Not that it matters, but she likes knowing that Thor's Midgard and her new home are the same kind of Earth.

She tucks away her PINpoint and takes another sip of hot chocolate. She probably should let him know about PINpoints before they part company, always a good item of technology to have in the Nexus. "Well, my ancestors on Kobol were supposedly very advanced, but there is plenty for my own people to discover. Or re-discover, in some cases." She takes another sip of hot chocolate and swallows. "And sometimes it's fun to learn things simply for the sake of learning. But right now our focus is certainly of a more practical nature."

Speaking of which... "Oh, well. Some people are allergic to bee stings, but honeybees are pretty docile if you act calmly around them. I've never had a problem." As for war goats, that earns him a confused expression. "...no? We keep them for their milk, mostly. They can be a little ornery sometimes, but they're pretty docile, too."

Supposedly advanced, she says, as if she isn't sure. A treasure trove of knowledge lost, and he frowns at the thought, the reminder that Asgard's archives are little more than dust, now. "As it should be," he murmurs, his eye momentarily focused on some middle distance, rather than her. He corrects that swiftly, though, pulling his attention back to the conversation. "Though I hope that knowledge can be passed down before it's forgotten again."

For all their similarities, there are still times when Thor stumbles into yet another cultural gap between Asgardians and Midgardians, and it's always the smaller details that are the most surprising somehow. Not having bilgesnipe, okay, that makes sense. Who would want them around anyway? But how can you have goats without war goats? The way she looks at him, it's as if he suddenly sprouted another head at the mere mention of it.

"No? They're quite useful, and loyal to their masters. I had a pair in my youth that pulled a chariot for me, Tanngniost and Tanngrisnir. I suppose they were the closest thing I ever had to pets."

It's a look she recognizes, as one who has lost their home can attest to. Her people are fortunate enough to have preserved their own knowledge, or at least an encyclopedic version of it. It's what has helped them settle on Atlantis as their ancestors must have on the Twelve Colonies without floundering too much. But she doesn't mention that to Thor, as that feels like rubbing salt into a wound. "I hope so, too," she says instead, lifting her mug in a universal gesture of goodwill.

At least this is a difference she finds interesting, rather than off-putting. "I think if we tried to pull a chariot with goats, either the goat or the rider would get hurt," she says with some amusement. "Asgardian goats must be stronger by nature. Did other people have pets? I have a pet cat... well, a kneazle, which is a kind of cat. And Zelus, although he's more of a companion than a pet."

He chuckles, and uses his hand to indicate the height of a war goat's back, nearly as high as he would gesture for a warhorse. "Much larger, too. Not as swift as a horse, but far sturdier, and armed with horns as long as my arm."

Thor's fond of cats, not that he's met many. Tiny, ferocious, capricious... in some ways, they remind him of Loki, not that he'll ever admit it, and he smiles a little at the thought. "Oh, yes. Hounds were popular, whether used for hunting or not. Smarskipa, too. Way easier to care for, though harder to train. My father also kept a pair of ravens, and an eight-legged horse."

Whoa! That is a really big goat! "No wonder they can pull chariots," she replies, laughing a little in surprise. "Did they wear armor, too?"

Comparing Loki to a magical cat would be rather apt, wouldn't it? Although Anastasia is far more humble. She's about to ask what a Smarskipa is, the only animal on that list she's unfamiliar with, but then Thor says the magic words -- "eight-legged horse" -- and her attention is only on that.

"What was the horse like? Did it move like a spider or were the legs in a row? Was it a magical horse?" Please be a magical horse. Magical horses are the best!

"Of course," Thor says, making an effort to sound like it's not a foolish question. He's asked his fair share about Earth things to know what it's like to be on the other side of it all. "It takes a lot to down a war goat, but there's no sense in not making it harder for your foe to do it."

He'd thought that might stand out, and even though the steed almost certainly perished during Hela's invasion, he's just as certain that the loyal beast refused to go quietly. "Sleipnir was no common horse - the swiftest mount in the Nine Realms, and a fierce creature on the battlefield. If any horses go to Valhalla, he is certainly there with his master. There has never been a horse such as he, and never will be again." Her question about the legs does get a startled laugh out of him as he imagines a horse scuttling along like a spider, or some other insect. What a dreadful mental image. "No, neither. More like... doubled in place, or very nearly. Two sets of forelegs before and aft each other, and same with the hind."

There are old accounts of horses wearing battle armor, but it's been a long time since any animal has been involved in a war in Adia's world. Certainly not the Cylon Wars. "Fair enough," she says, smiling at the image of a goat in plate mail. "I'm hoping that our days of fighting are behind us. We've made peace with our former enemy, and it's unlikely that the humans on the mainland would hurt us. So I think our goats will have to stick to making milk and looking cute."

The image he describes, of a horse running with so many legs, is a curious one. She dwells on it as she takes another long sip of hot chocolate. Most of the whipped cream has melted into it, making it extra rich. "Is that what made it so fast?" she wonders out loud before shaking her head. "Sorry... I used to ride horses when I was a child. I was a little obsessed, especially with mythical horses, but I never heard of one with so many legs."

Thor takes another deep swig from his mug, draining it nearly completely, and salutes with what remains. "Then I wish you good fortunes, to you and your goats."

He hadn't ever really given much thought to why Sleipnir was so swift before - the horse simply was, as far back as Thor can remember. "I suppose. Magic has a way of growing into the shape it needs, no matter if it's man or horse. Or weapon," he says, with a slightly wistful look on his face. Maybe it's stupid to mourn the loss of a hammer, even Thor can admit that. But it was his hammer.

"Thanks." She smiles warmly at Thor and takes another sip of hot chocolate. Hers is almost empty, too. She hadn't been planning on spending a good chunk of time this afternoon socializing with a Nexus newcomer, but Thor has been very nice to talk to.

"'Necessity is the mother of invention,'" she quotes, although she has no idea who said it first. "If you bring magic to Midgard, maybe there will be another chance for an eight-legged horse." She smiles, also a touch wistful. There's a longing to recreate her childhood home on Leonis at times, which she indulges by planting tulips or caring for bees, but it can't ever be the same. She suspects that Thor knows that, too.

He's going to be a good leader.

"I should get going soon, but before I forget, you should get a PINpoint. They have them at the Plaza, and they let you teleport between here and locations on other worlds. In case something happens to your portal, you'll still be able to get back here."

Thor stifles a laugh of amusement at her suggestion, not wanting to be rude. Bringing magic to Midgard... as if it was not there already. One might as well wish to bring the laws of physics, too. But even his fellow Avengers have had a difficult time accepting the concept, even after he's had years to sway them, and this doesn't seem like the appropriate time. So he just inclines his head and agrees, for now. "Maybe. It can't hurt."

A device to use the Bifrost at his own discretion, without relying on the Gatekeeper to open the way, is a valuable item indeed. "I will ensure that I get one."

He's taken up enough of her time, but it's certainly not been wasted. He holds out his hand to her, Midgardian-style. "My thanks for the drink, and your counsel, Adia. I could not have asked for a finer welcome."

When it comes to magic, Adia is more of a Stark than a Strange. Besides, she meant the specific magic of Asgard, which must be different from human magic by default. Right? Well, it's something they can talk about later.

"Good." Impulsively, she pulls a small notebook and pen out of her bag and jots down a series of digits. "Here," she offers, while she has the nerve. "This is my PINpoint number. You can use it to text me. If you want. I mean, you don't have to or anything. But in case you have any questions."

She blinks at the unexpected offer of a handshake before returning it. "I'm glad you liked the hot chocolate," she replies happily. "And I hope whatever you need, you can find it in the Nexus."

It's still strange to him to need numbers and letters to reach his human friends, but he can't always have Heimdall at his beck and call to send messages across great distances. Especially here. Can the Gatekeeper see him here, he wonders? Something to ask when he gets back to the Statesman.

"Thank you. Maybe next time, I can buy you the drink," he says with a grin. He takes the paper and folds it up, tucking it down the front of his armor.

Her surprised look makes him wonder for a moment if he's done something wrong - maybe the handshake isn't a custom with her kind of human. It seemed less risky than kissing the back of her hand, as he would with a lady of Asgard. But no, her response comes readily enough, the pleasure obvious in her voice. "Thank you. I'll have a lot of exploring to do in the near future, I feel."

"Sure," she says easily, although she certainly would never expect or insist that he repay the favor.

The handshake goes over well, despite her initial surprise. He has human friends, she reminds herself. He'd know of plenty of Earth customs, even if no one bothered to introduce him to hot chocolate. "I've been visiting for nearly four years now, and there's still plenty that I haven't discovered," she replies, but she's sure that he'll have no trouble exploring. He seems the adventurous sort.

She slides out of her seat, taking her empty mug with her and placing it on top of a trash barrel. She waves to the barista, who smiles at her briefly before returning to his work. Considering his otherwise stoic expression, he might as well have come around the counter and hugged her goodbye.

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+1 King of Asgard

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