assguardians | ASGARD GENESIS

[i. arrival.

He remembers having a conversation with Kyrie, her words assuring him of knowing what's right, him wishing he was actually with her instead of talking to her on the phone. The next thing he knows, he's woken up on the table and is now in a place called... Asgard? Wait, what? What happened to Red Grave City? What happened to the Qliphoth and everything else? Nero's head was spinning from Dante's revelation earlier, and now it's even worse. Added onto this hot mess is the fact that he can't do anything with his arm, and he can't even use his own powers? This is all fucking bullshit.

G r e a t. Just great. There's this whole talk of "god houses" and a "World Tree" but honestly? Nero doesn't give a shit, he just wants to get back home. He has a job to do, a fight to break up between two idiots who think the only solution to the other being around is "murder." Honestly, it's a cycle he wants to stop because otherwise it's never going to end, and there has to be other options than them simply trying to kill each other.

Lost in his thoughts, he doesn't notice how in wandering around, he's gotten at least one native (or two) curious about him. One actually manages to get enough courage to gently touch the top of his Devil Breaker, causing Nero to blink in surprise, completely unaware of anyone else around him.]

Hey, hey! [A scowl as he pulls away his robotic arm, a little on edge as the native backs off, apologizing.] Don't touch- you want me to get skinned alive?

[Nico would kill him if he damaged it here and she wasn't around. Hell, she's probably going to be pissed anyway that it doesn't work outside of being a normal arm. He's still irritated and it shows- every part of him is still tense even as he walks away from the startled natives he scolded seconds earlier.

ii. wandering.

They want him to choose a god house, but so far, Nero wants nothing to do with it. He's walked into one of the districts and mostly kept to himself, though he certainly doesn't stay that way as time goes on. There's a group of children in one of the squares, all of them playing together in some sort of game of tag. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he misses home. Fortuna. Kyrie would be waiting with the children at the orphanage, and he'd come back every now and then to tell them stories, or to just be with his girlfriend.

Nero's attention is suddenly drawn to one of the smaller boys as he runs by, tripping on a stone and falling. Instantly, Nero's bounding after him, sliding on his knees to grab the kid from underneath so he doesn't hit his face on the ground.]

Easy. [It takes a second for the child to realize he's not falling anymore, and he pauses, looking up. The boy reminds him of Julio, eyes wide and always curious, looking from his friends back to Nero, then down to Nero's arm, then back to his friends. With a little laugh, the boy picks himself up and dusts himself off, clearly amused.] Might not want to run so fast next time, all right?

[The native nods and then runs off, leaving Nero crouched and watching the group before he rises once again. He turns, acknowledging whoever just watched that entire exchange.] What?

[iii. wildcard.

Whatever you like, hmu! I'm pretty easy to roll with things.]

Edited 2019-05-15 19:37 (UTC)

1. mother of dragons? welcome to frigg's crib
[ To expect the unexpected was a strategy harder to live out than prepare for. Daenerys Targaryen was left with a difficult choice, one she bitterly takes as her own dragon children had been taken away from her. Frigg, the name falls so bitterly to her tongue. Whatever agreement is made, her anger still remains pitted in her stomach as time passes. As if this bond was some kind of cruel choice she was forced to make.

At first, she keeps herself secluded in her 'residence', musing on the possibilities of finding her children but without her allies — how could she? The city knows not of her name and status as Queen of Meereen... so she blends in. Moving among the different districts now in a poor attempt to learn more.

Gods, she felt like Jorah now.

She settles in the NJORD DISTRICT, the dim-lit restaurant all the more attractive to rest her troubles for a moment. To watch as people pass by — that is, until a plate and glass is set in front of her. ]

Oh, no — I didn't request anything.

[ Dany insists, shaking her head. The barmaiden insists one of the gentlemen in the room sent it over for free and that, makes her eyes narrow as she sees a man making kissy-faces across the way. ]

Send it back or it will be wasted on the floor.

2. walk in the park
[ It feels odd exploring without her guards, without the Unsullied sworn to protect her. She moves freely, in awe of all the green spanning through the park. It was not like Essos and part of her wonders... was there a lemon tree here? Something so simple, but she had to wonder — to keep her mind at ease.

In her walk, she finds herself stopping in front of a large mural of graffiti. The shapes and lines look so foreign, so crude and she has to mutter out loud — ]

What language is this..?

[ It's just bubble letters, chill. It seems there's another person admiring the art and soon, her voice speaks up. ]

Excuse me, are these common around this city?

3. wildcard
[ Dany is from mid season 7! Please feel free to throw me some prompts in the other districts — right now, poor girl is wandering around without her advisors missing her dumb dragon kids. :/ PM me if you have questions! Be gentle, voice testing in a game setting! ]

Edited 2019-05-15 19:46 (UTC)

I: I am not throwing away my shot (wandering)
[ You might think Ramsay's been given purple flower by the way he's grinning at everything and everyone. But there's no sign of one on him, he's just apparently thrilled to be here. Everything and everyone are apparently very interesting.

There are, after all, advantages to dying and finding out there's some kind of afterlife. One which seems full of new people who've never heard of House Bolton or the North.

Whatever you're doing, Ramsay will wander up and brightly remark ] Lovely day, isn't it?

II: i don't have a gun to brandish (heimdall district)
[ Rows and rows of weapons and no one here to tell him not to play with them. Someone tell him about heaven so he can think he's made it.

There are already two knives stuck into his belt (you might notice his palm is bleeding thanks to testing them) but he's just come across a greatsword almost as tall as he is. He's managing to lift it, but only just.

To himself:] Fucking good this'll do anyone.

Edited 2019-05-15 19:51 (UTC)

[ A – Upon Arrival ]

[Aqua closes her eyes on the beach of the fallen Islands as the light fades and the worlds return back into the Realm of Light, her grasp around her Keyblade slipping… and she wakes somewhere entirely else. The sky is blue and she can sense the charge of power (magic?) all around her, so much that her head hurts terribly…

When she wakes again, when she is welcomed… it's a strange sensation.

(Is this true? Is this not a dream? Has she truly found a way out of the Darkness?)

Yet, she is quick to focus on the more important matters… first of all, just where she has woken.]

They called this world Asgard… I can't say, I've heard of it before.

[Not entirely surprising, given the number of worlds that exist in the Realm of Light, Aqua admits. Her hand settles against her chin.]

If I am to forge a bond to one of the gods here, for now… then I'll need to find out more.

[She wouldn't want to tie herself to someone like Hades just because she didn't think her choice through. Hopefully there'll be some reasonable gods in this world.]

[ B – Flower Power ]

[Aqua feels a little uneasy about the crowds that greet her as she enters Asgard proper. Her skin is tingling as she walks by the curious people, and she does yearn for the reassuring feeling of Master Defender under her skin just a little, even though she knows that she has nothing to fear from these people.

Her nervosity must be spilling over a little, she thinks, because the girl that approaches her is smiling shyly when she offers one of the orange flowers in her basket. Aqua gasps in surprise, her eyes wide with joy as she smiles:]

Thank you! That's a lovely flower!

[She feels warmth spread through her body as she sniffs at it, and she relaxes just a little as she twines the flower into her blue hair.]

That's right… that's the feeling of sun on my skin. it's been such a long time…

[ C – Hold Up Your Wildcard! ]

[Hit me! :3]

i: much ado about nothing

[Once the relative bustling of the swarm of new arrivals has had some time to settle down and the whole suddenly-waking-up-in-a-different-world schtick has proven itself to be very, very real, a certain skyfarer can be found blindly wandering through the streets around Honir district. Djeeta would like to think that she's acclimating well enough, but there's one distinct problem -- how do you go from spending hours a day training and grinding for mass amounts of upgrade mats to nothing? She's been wringing her hands as she wanders, looking very much like she's searching for something she isn't sure of herself.]

Hmm... It's hard to work out what to do with myself without Siero to check in with...

[And that's when she'll be noticing you, fellow Asgardian, in the event that you also happen to be meandering around the streets without anything pressing to attend to. She'll be raising her hand in a genial wave, and then calling out to grab your attention:]

Oh..! Excuse me!

[... and promptly hopping over, complete with a warm, if slighly apologetic, smile.]

Um... Eheh, this might seem like a bit of a weird question, but... You don't have anything you could use some help with, do you? Like some chores, or maybe finding some materials for something, or beating up a super strong monster...

[She offers a short laugh, casting a wide glance out at the district streets. A gauntleted hand rubs at the back of her neck, as if she realizes that this isn't usually the kind of thing you just run up to and ask of a stranger.]

Sorry, I know it's pretty out of the blue. I guess I'm getting kind of restless here, is all.

ii: is that a sword in your pocket?

Would you feel better if I stayed here with you? N-No, no, please don't cry! Um... -- oh, look! Wanna see my sword?

[In one of the more quiter streets of the city, Djeeta's kneeling down in front of what appears to be two young children, huddled together and holding each other close. The younger of the two is clearly upset, clinging to the other in a vicegrip and fighting back sobs as Djeeta does her best to cheer her up.

It's not going very well, naturally, and probably looks more than a little suss to anyone who stumbles onto the sight, as the blonde moves to pull her shortsword out of its hilt and brandish it before the pair. She puts on her most dashing smile, her eyes silently willing the poor girl to calm down.]

It's really cool, right? We've been together since I was little so it's kind of banged up, but it gets the job done better than anything else!

[And she strikes a pose, holding it in front of her in a two-handed grip. It sure would suck if someone mistook her efforts as something outrageous like her trying to attack these poor, helpless children, that's for sure! Alternatively, god help her, her best friend is a ~~lizard~~ dragon and she has no idea what she's doing.]

iii: wildcards: more astra efficient than an evoker

( hit me up with something! djeeta will probably be around and about just about everywhere, and just as likely to get mixed up in some sort of crazy shenanigan sooner or later. flower effects are totally on the table, and pms are open if you'd like a closed starter! 💪🏻 )

1. Arrival/ Exploring
[ Even before the ice Steve knew about the Norse gods. Being as sick as he was as a child reading was something he could always do. Books on mythology were among some of his favorites, though he always thought of them as fairy tales.

Then he got frozen for sixty-eight years and met Thor and fought Loki and well, he had a lot of views to reassess.

Still, showing up in Asgard was surprising, especially considering Thor had told him it was destroyed. With that in mind it was easy to accept that this was a different world altogether, one that was probably not even connected to his. If Fury was here he would owe him another ten bucks....he probably owed him more than that at this point.

With seemingly no way to get home yet Steve figures he might as well get to know the area, get the lay of the land so to speak. If he showed up here than anyone he knew could and he figured it was better to have some answers to questions he was sure they would ask.

Except he’s not entirely sure where he seems to have wandered to. ]

Sorry, can someone point me in the right direction?

2. Flowers- Purple
[ The Asgard natives seem really eager to welcome the newcomers into the city, its nice considering they are all strangers to this world. Who is Steve to deny that? So he takes a flower when it’s offered. Bringing it to his nose. It’s sweet but floral and a pleasant smells so Steve doesn’t think to put it down, carrying it as he wanders.

It’s not long after that that he feels a laugh bubbling up from his chest, he’s not sure what’s causing it- nothing is particularly funny about the situation until it is and Steve can’t stop the laugh anymore. ]

I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m laughing.

3. Wildcard
Come at me with whatever scenario you want!

[ OOC: Endgame spoilers will be clearly marked. If you don’t want spoilers please let me know! ]

Edited 2019-05-15 20:03 (UTC)

𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

[Great, just great. Far as Dean can tell he didn't catch the angel-express inbound to whatever the hell this was supposed to be. It looked like something out of one of those fiction fantasy books Sam was glued to as a kid. Dean's half expecting to see dwarves and elves running around, maybe a troll or two, but so far he's been greeted only with more confused masses and some way-too-invested natives. They brought him flowers, and he turned as many as he could away but settled for some kind of corsage that was forced onto him by one of the prettier natives, all curves, caramel skin, and long waterfalls of brown hair. Exactly hist type. Far be it for him to say no.

Purple's a good color for him, but before he has time to lay down some foundation work on getting answers she flits away with barely any interest and he's left with the boutonniere and a stupid grin on his face. It's not like he's used to getting shut down, but after climbing out of hell he's been through worse than a brown-eyed beauty shutting him down.]

𝚐𝚘𝚍'𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕'𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎

[These so aren't any gods he'd ever worship, and for someone that's made a career killing pagan gods Dean's gotta figure these guys might not even want him around. What does it mean to even have a house and why should he care enough to pull for any one overpowered douchebag with juice. This is exactly why he dropped out of high school and went for the GED, he did better work as a grunt, exams and expectations weren't his thing.]

Can I ask which you God you got into? 'Cuz from where I'm standing it's less of a choice and more of an ultimatum. You think anyone managed to get away with not declaring?

𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍

[Hit me with your best shot, fire away. Network, or your choice. Whatever you want, it's up to you. I'll match format on all of these. Find me at if you have any questions.]

A.

Alright, less on the initial, soul-churning freakout, more on practical matters. Heimdall House isn't terribly difficult to find, thankfully, but it's a hell of a walk in a dead, unresponsive suit, and the novelty of such a trek is long over by the time he's tromping up the steps and heading inside.

Huh. Spartan. Is that fitting? He can't remember the last time he ever asked Thor 'Hey, what's the guardian of the Bifrost actually like?'

A little while later, having found the barracks-style bedroom, Stark's making strides in getting out of his armor, though it's proving a bit more difficult than anticipated. Y'know, without anything like fastenings and releases that don't rely on tools he doesn't presently have.

Fuck.

At least someone else has arrived by the time he's feeling really antsy, footsteps out in the main room alerting him. Yes, stranger, he's aware he looks ridiculous wearing half a set of battle-worn red and gold armor, c'mere and let him wave you on closer

"Okay, hi. First off, I'm Tony, I've already claimed top bunk. Secondly, I need you to do me a solid and grab this pauldron, right here," he explains, with a knock of bejeweled knuckles to his left shoulder, "feel around for the release, then just give it a good pull."

Aren't you the lucky one.

B.

Mercifully released from his nanite prison, clean and slightly more rested, Tony's out wandering the width and breadth of Asgard, wending through the city proper until it gave way to parcels of lush, green farmland. If he didn't know better, he'd say it really was some sort of pleasant afterlife.

...except for the stones weighing heavy in the bag at his hip. Metaphorically, anyway, they're all really quite light, stuffed in a spare sock and zipped into an inner pocket. Can't risk leaving them behind in the house even if they're not ominously glowing, not with the possibility of sticky-fingered roommates What the hell am I going to do with five Infinity Stones? Ask Heimdall for a lockbox? A safe?

"Come here often?" he quips at the next person who seems content to enjoy the scenery, though a little too close for his tastes.

Edited 2019-05-15 21:04 (UTC)

I. Arrival
( a. ) How did things always return to the gods and her as a foreigner? She steps along with other 'wanderers,' looking about her in both curiosity and chagrin; there's a war to be fought, not playing nice with a new group of people and self-proclaimed gods. "Why am I here?" she asks no one in particular.

( b. )One of the smallfolk is careful in offering her a purple flower. Perhaps it's the severity of her braids, pulled back in a single plait. Or maybe it's her attire: dark grey with sharp shoulders, her sash of maroon bouncing with each step, held in place with a silver chain and three dragon heads. Being a foreign sight is not a new concept to her, but the smile she offers the villager as she accepts the flower certainly is.

When she realizes you're watching her, the smile slips into a distant look. "Perhaps you should take one, as well. You could use some color."

II. Honir District
Stables are reason enough to wander. Whilst this city remains strange to her, different in a way she could ever anticipate, there are the familiarities. No dragons--the separation from Drogon and Rhaegal is painful--but horses are here.

So she sets off to find the horses. There's a purple flower in her hand, one she absently twists between index finger and thumb, and one she sniffs a short time before seeing an eight-legged horse. A burst of laughter rings out, startling both her and the horse.

"Eight legs!" And she dissolves into a fit of uncharacteristic giggles. "I don't think my dragons would know how to eat one."

Arrival:

[Sure, Sora has been to all sorts of different worlds. He's been to many. He knows about keeping the world b--order and all that, at least in theory. He's used to being in various places and needing to adjust and all. He is even used to the idea of gods, after being around Herc and Phil and going up to Olympus, and the Underworld.

But he still can't help staring as he wanders a bit.]

Wow. This place is pretty neat!

[He's not yet immediately worried that Donald and Goofy aren't here, given how they sometimes would initially be separated when arriving on a new world. He wanders with his hands up by the back of his head, blue eyes darting around as he explores.]

I wonder what these gods are like here.....

Gods:

So....we have to choose one? And the Gods can help us stay here, give us powers? Well.....Frigg, maybe? I do care about my friends. Or I guess Honir is about traveling? And that's kind of basically all I've been doing the last couple years or so.

[....The period he was asleep aside, of course. He shifts then as he lists the Gods on his fingers, debating the options. Look this is clearly a Big Decision.]

Arrival:

[All Clementine has on her is her hat, her clothes she was wearing. Well, and her gun and knife. Her pistol. Which Clementine all but immediately gets out when she stirs and starts to explore tentatively. She's obviously cautious, on edge and confused.

She eventually asks around about a little boy named 'AJ - Alvin Junior.' if anyone has seen him. Clementine did have responsibility for him and all, after having taken the kid in after his parents died. And she had been with him just before. Just before she got here - wherever here is exactly. The crowds make her all the more on edge, given her situation back home in dealing with walkers.]

Gods:

Choosing a god? I'm....I've never exactly been...religious? But. Well, I guess loyalty is important, and I do care about AJ and the others.

[So probably Heimdall or Frigg? She's still debating the potential options, not to mention frowning at the idea of the gods granting powers? Depending on which god you choose.]

[A. Arrival]

[Huh.

Well.

This is one way to escape her due punishment, she supposes, although she can't help the feeling of childish frustration and disappointment that wells up inside of her at her entire plan falling apart so suddenly. It takes her a while to really figure out what's going on and where to go from here.

It's fine to stick to some old plans while she figures out new ones, and she immediately requests a wheelchair except some of this place isn't that wheelchair-friendly. Sitting at the top of a staircase, Monaca regards it cooly before she slips out of the chair and sends it toppling down the stairs with a giant, horrible crashing noise.

She can't see, but she hopes it's not too terribly damaged as she begins the arduous task of scooting herself down the stairs, puffing her cheeks out in determination.]

[B. Flowers]

[Pitiful children were the most powerful. Monaca had always believed that to be true, and it seems that even in another world she can count on people looking at her with profond pity to take care of her.

Like the many flowers she ends up receiving, all smiles and childishly clapping her hands, making a crown of them to slip over her head. The green of her hair makes it look like the flowers are growing from grass.

One of the purple flowers that didn't make it into the flower crown is held in her hands and she's carefully plucking off the petals and dropping them to the ground.]

They miss me, they miss me not. They miss me, they miss me not... [She plucks the last one on an 'they miss me not' and then pouts, sniffling a little and looking fairly upset] Oh... I guess that wouldn't be too surprising, but it's still sooo disappointing...

[C. Pick A God And Pray]

Umm, I'm still not really sure I understand all this stuff about gods...

[She taps at her mouth thoughtfully, pouting as she looks around at the streets leading to different temples and all] Do we really have to choose one? I don't want to worship anyone...

[At least, no one but a specific person who is very much not here. She's gone with Mimir for now, because that seems more in line with her. Maybe she should've tried to pick something more befitting of someone as childish looking as her.]

But then, Monaca's just a kid, you know? I'm not really used to making decisions on my own. But strategy and stuff sounds fun! Like playing monopoly or something!

[She giggles and smiles at whoever she's just been rambling to.] What made you choose yours'?

[D. Wildcard!]

[idk what i'm doing. will match formats, if nothing strikes your fancy we can do somethin else!]

[ooc; Potential KH3 spoilers! Please let me know if you're okay with them or not.]

[Arrival ft. Flowers]

[Ventus...isn't quite sure just how he got to this world. It was as if he was simply transitioned from one world to another despite not using his Wayglider to travel or through the use of a Gummi Ship provided to them. It's odd.

He takes a moment to look around at his surroundings, confused.

The natives of this world has told him that this world is called Asgard. There were something about gods here and how he would need to eventually find a god house to choose for his stay. While that's all good information, there's really only one thing he needs to know.]

Have you met a person named Aqua or Terra?

[He asks a young girl holding a flower basket, crouched down to her level. The girl shyly shakes her head, offering him an orange flower in condolence and he takes it with a smile.]

Thank you.

[The girl gives a tiny smile before she hurries off to find her friends and Ventus stands straight, sighing and he looks around.]

Aqua?! Terra?!

[B. Learning About Gods]

[There's something about trying to learn about these gods that confuses Ventus.

First of all, he's never even heard of them before. The closest thing he's ever come to in meeting a 'god' is Hercules and he didn't even know his old friend was a demi-god back then. ~~Never mind he's never even met Hades.~~

So Ventus scratches the back of his head, befuddled before he turns to someone near by.]

Um, hi there. Do you know anything about the 'gods' we're supposed to be choosing from?

[He sounds sheepish for even asking.]

❰ ooc note that i wasn't in original asgard and have no idea what i'm doing, so if any of this isn't quite on-brand re: asgard's setting and such, we can retcon it in our thread! ❱

█ ONE (HEIMDALL)

❰ to be quite honest, lalli's still not entirely sure what's happening.

this isn't a dream. he thought it was, when came face-to-face with foreign gods and chose the one who would help him protect the people who matter, but he's walked for quite a while since then and every step brings him more firmly into the realization that this isn't some elaborate far-reaching corner of his dreamscape. he feels stupid for not being able to tell to begin with, but dreams have been a little odd since he came to iceland.

went to iceland. this isn't iceland anymore, is it?

anyone in the heimdall district is free to spot a slim teen in a hooded tunic slipping through the streets. his arms are crossed uneasily, and his eyes warily scan his surroundings for under his hood. all in all, he very much looks like he's in out of his depth. which makes sense, i suppose - he's coming from the castle, and that means he's probably brand spanking new here.

if your character wouldn't approach or call to him, worry not! he'll definitely do that job for them. at some point he rounds a corner somewhat distractedly and pulls up just barely short of plowing right into some hapless stranger. oh, that doesn't stop him - without missing a beat, he ducks around them with intent to keep moving, but lalli only makes it a couple of steps before stopping short for a second time.

with a frustrated huff, he sidles back around to the front of the stranger, meets their eyes, clears his throat and asks: ❱ Housing? ❰ lalli's a bit... lost. as much as he hates to admit that. ❱

█ TWO (SKADI'S "VÆNNSTAÐR")

❰ now this is better.

lalli doesn't like cities. in his experience they're either loud and alive or they're silent and steeped in a prevailing sense of undeath, and he's not entirely sure which he likes the least. this asgard doesn't quite fit in either category, and he doesn't know what to do with that. he's largely fallen back on the lifelong notion that cities this large and vacant are never safe, no matter how benign they might seem.

but after much of a day spent scouting, he's discovered skadi's park. it's not quite right, the trees and plants are all wrong and the air smells different, but it's as close to the woods of home as he's found so far and he doesn't want to leave.

for much of an afternoon until the light starts to fade for evening, lalli can be found sitting crosslegged in the center of a grassy clearing, an array of papers spread out around him. upon closer examination, each paper has one large rune in the center. he seems to be making more papers still, bent over a stack of blank sheets with a black marker in hand. ❱

a. arrival

[I mean, a 58 year-old man in a 13 year-old's body didn't really need blue flowers to be short with everyone, but it does make him even more cross. He rolls his eyes at a person trying to hand him more flowers, a mannequin (or the torso of one) tucked underneath one of his arms.]

Look, I've already got flowers. I don't need flowers; I need answers or a way out!

b. library

[Five finds himself in the library in Odin's district pretty fast. What better way to find out more information than to find a library. He has about two dozen books surrounding him at his table, and a (torso of a) mannequin sits in the chair next to him.]

Hm? [He glances over at the mannequin, snorting derisively.] If you've got a better plan, then I'd like to hear it. [Smugly, as he returns to his book:] That's what I thought.

[A pause, and then he turns to the mannequin, looking aghast.] Well, excuse me for trying to get back! Even if the apocalypse is over, we've got to try to get back.

[Another snort, and he turns back to his book, shaking his head.]

c. wandering

[Dolores is safely at his residence, so he decides to go exploring. He doesn't really feel like he can relax. What if he was wrong? What if the apocalypse is going on without him? He stops a passersby.]

Two questions. Have you heard of the Handler? And where can I go to get a decent cup of coffee around here?

[ Preface: Viv is a synthezoid of the same basic construction as Vision, and is in fact his daughter. She's retaining the same look, even if not all of the functions, of being a robot, so she'll be obviously non-human and obviously related to Vision, if your character knows him but not her. Also, I'm fine with any Avengers spoilers including Endgame. ]

[ A: Arrival ]

[ Viv is... unsettled. She has felt wrong, off, since arriving and meeting the gods, beings akin to Thor or Hercules, and getting the basic rundown.

She looked normal - a synthezoid by any measure... except her own internal measurements. Her thought processes were more meandering, less focused, and much slower, eerily similar to the time she had spent as a human girl. She also seemed to be without her normal array of powers, which had been touched upon but seemed illogical to her. She couldn't even access wifi.

But even this level of reflection was taking more time and concentration than she was used to. She found herself wandering the districts of Asgard as she mulled over her situation... and couldn't recall exactly how she had gotten to her current location, or where exactly this current location was. ]

...Ah. [ And, turning to the nearest person, ] Where is this?

[ B: Flower Power ]

[ Viv can be found later holding a purple flower and... giggling. ]

Why am I laughing? What is so amusing? [ She lets out another giggle. ] Is this because I cannot disengage my emotional core? Is it normal to laugh this much? [ Her smile is almost contagious, but her eyes are worried. ]

[ C: Wildcard ]

[ Or create your own thread! Viv can be found wandering around most places. As for houses, she is likely to arrive in Mimir or Heimdall. ]

Edited 2019-05-15 22:14 (UTC)

( ONE: ABJECT ATHEISM )

( The sudden presentation of a different setting is very jarring. It's not too peculiar -- not outrageously abnormal, at all -- but it certainly isn't where Emil last found himself.

And because of that, no matter where he is right now (and it isn't suddenly his bedroom back home), this is definitely a problem.

Fast-forward through some explanations and info bombing, absorbed with a terse glare and some eyerolls. Nothing anyone will say will be enough to really satisfy the questions he has, namely "can't I please just go back to doing what I was doing?" It's all topped off with the cherry on top that this is all religious mumbo-jumbo. He's grown to have a certain level of respect for magic and the religious, but that's not his lane and he certainly doesn't want to swerve into it now. )

This is ridiculous. They can't force you to go on worshiping a God. ( This is said to you like you're someone he knows -- very likely not the case -- because he just needs to vent into the air you happen to be standing within. ) Magical countries are so devout, but shouldn't this all be optional? I'm certainly not taking part.

( TWO: TWO-TYRED LODGING )

( There's at least some blessing in that linguistically, things look like they make sense. It's quickly discovered that everyone here can understand one another which is great! But it makes things less foreign to see the familiar dots and hear cadences of words you know. That's what makes Nādhirhöll appealing, at least. That and it's actually a civilized, somewhat personal space that isn't falling apart or that smells like mildew.

Outside of that, there's talk of lodging. Interesting...this is certainly worth investigating. The least they -- whoever they is -- can do is give him a nice room, personal, private, time to unwind...

Except, within the pattern of continuous betrayal, these rooms are again filled with bunk beds. Why? )

Why!? ( Oops, that wasn't just in his mind; it's also loudly shouted into the room he's walked into. If you're also in there getting your bearings, welcome to your newest and constant interruption. ) Not just one, but eight?

( And it's then that he turns to you, pointedly. His mood has certainly soured. ) Which one are you choosing? If I pick one furthest away then maybe it won't be as close of quarters.

( THREE: LILACS )

( Let's rewind a bit. Before Emil has time to be angry about slumming it with seven other people, or even to get too mad about suddenly being thrust into theism, he's pretty confused still and wondering just what in the world is going on.

Adding to the confusion is the fact that people are sharing flowers around like it's some holiday. Flowers aren't an especially common sight, especially ones that are fragrant and blooming, so it at least bodes will for the economic status of...wherever this is?

He's given quite a few of them, and soon he's got more purple flowers than he has ideas as to what he should do next? Help...? )

I. Arrival

He must have been drugged. It isn't that Majima doesn't believe this is all happening, but he has a harder time accepting how he's remaining calm. His typical anxieties about being told what to do and where to go still bubble in his gut, but they're smothered by what feels like a wool security blanket over his senses.

Maybe waking up without any wounds and somewhere he could see the sun had thrown him off guard; that isn't typically what happens after he passes out. Maybe that woman--Frigga?-- managed to appeal to what good sense he had left. There's no malice, but underneath it all, Majima knows he's trapped again. It's not a musty basement, it's not a few blocks and a dingy apartment he couldn't stray too far from. It might be a whole goddamn planet for all he knows, but a cage is a cage.

Yet the gnawing fear settled into the back of his brain as he aimlessly wandered the city. Gilded towers, tall and graceful foreigners crowding meticulous stonework streets, creatures he'd only seen in storybooks flying overhead-- shit, maybe he was hallucinating.

Either way, Majima isn't paying much attention to where he's walking at the moment, and having one eye can make rubbernecking a little perilous. Hopefully he won't wander into any streetlamps. Or people.

II. Orange Flowers

Flowers are a nice change of pace from pocket tissues and club flyers, so Majima takes one with a bit of puzzled gratitude. His first instinct is to smell it, and the sweet scent once again puts him at curious ease. However, almost as soon as he slips it into the lapel of his tuxedo, the sun seems to beat a bit harder on him. It's at least a pleasant warmth, but it makes him tug at his collar, and free another button on his shirt. He glances from side to side as he does, hoping his tattoo doesn't start to peek out. Regardless of any of these people knowing about yakuza, he never knew who might get uppity about them.

Soon, his pace slows, and he yawns. Warmth had the same effect on him as a cat sitting in a window, and Majima slumps onto the closest bench he can find. It looks too expensive to sit on, but he's too groggy to care. He peels off his suit jacket, folds it, and rests it over his face as he leans back to nap.

III. Wildcard!

Edited 2019-05-15 22:19 (UTC)

I. Arrival;
[ There are stranger things that could happen, sure, but that doesn't mean that this isn't a whole hell of a lot to process. It doesn't help that waking up here means Quentin's been pulled out of saving all of Magic, and while Quentin seems calmer than he is inside, he's pretty fucking tired of fate jerking them around and fucking them over.

He pushes his hair out of his face, sighing heavily, trying to let his worries out along with his exhale. It doesn't work, and so he makes himself head over to the nearest person, mind spinning as he tries to process all of the new information he'd literally just been given. ]

Hey--the nearest inn, or pub, or anywhere with alcohol, do you know where that would even be?

[ He's going to be crushed when he finds out there's no alcohol. ]

II. Choosing a God;
[ You know what's A Lot? Trying to choose a God when you've definitely killed one yourself and dicked over Magicians as a whole in the process. Quentin isn't even sure he wants to be tied with Gods (bad things happen with that sort of thing), but that doesn't mean he's not going to do his research. He's quick to ask the first person that he sees in his peripheral vision. ]

Which one is Non--sorry, Honir?

[ He could ask the Gods themselves, sure, but that would defeat the fact that he's writing down a literal list of pros and cons for each one, cross-legged on the floor. He's no straight A student like Alice Quinn, but that doesn't stop him from being a giant nerd. ]

Edited 2019-05-15 22:52 (UTC)

A. Visiting Temples.

[ The Steina Lysa temple gives him a headache courtesy of Skadi, but Fregnahöll keeps him occupied for almost an hour as he rifles nimble-fingered through the pages of what books already line the shelves of Odin's library after he ducks into the old man's temple. It's mildly offensive that Mimir, that severed head of a prat, has a godhaus and Loki doesn't. Out of sheer curiosity (the secrets available in Mimir's temple outweigh a number of other choices in priority) he strolls the watery walkways of Taka Ráðs, keeping a leery eye on the reflections and a good foot in distance away from the edge, just to be careful, but nothing comes of Loki's mindful wandering. He visits the Teitr Morginn to send a hopeful prayer to whichever version of his ex may be around (Sigyn always was reliably fond of him, he can't afford to snub her help today and feels no real need to since her death in his universe has afforded them quite the breather), but it's in the Báðum Hǫndum where Loki spends the better part of his morning. His mother, or the approximation of Freyja which exists here, does not reply; Loki sits with a mug of tea in one hand and a stack of pilfered biscuits beside him on the bench, munching away with a frown. Likely that Frigg is busy welcoming a slew of noobs and simply doesn't have a moment free, same with Sigyn trailing after her queen. No big deal. Whatever. Loki can always come back ... another time.

There is no temple for a Loki of this dimension which isn't surprising, although it soothes his bruised ego a little that neither Thor or Balder have one either. Are certain gods of this preteen-Asgard absent altogether, unborn yet in the realm's infancy? It's a mystery he longs to solve, chomping into a custard-creme with more annoyance than it deserves. ]

B. Various;

i. Stables.

[ Skjóta Oddr has more eight-legged horses than a god could shake a mason at. Loki's eyes widen and he offers his hand to the heads hanging over stable-doors, pleased when one horse in particular whuffs at his palm and gently lips his fingers. She's a big girl, not as dark as Sleipnir but the colour of an incoming storm. Loki blatantly ignores the name listed on the stall and decides aloud, as the mare nibbles the fur on his coat, ]

I think we'll call you Raindrop.

ii. Skipta Mál.

[ First Loki loses his magic, then all hope of a decent beer, what could possibly be next? Not the bowl of chips that sits in front of him, that's for damn sure as he chows down at a table alone in a corner. Memories haunt him of being a powerless youngster, too weak for spells so that he supplemented jam for ingredients and he sincerely hopes it isn't going to come to that this time around. After all, as part of his mother's house (even an alt-dimension version of her) he's surely going to be treated better than he would in, say, Heimdall's. Frigg, Frigga, Freyja ... he can't imagine her stifling his growth if he has to earn back his magic.

His grousing thoughts are disturbed by Raindrop's muzzle dipping through the window behind the booth to lick at the bowl of water next to Loki's meal and he itches under her chin without looking away from the bracelet on his wrist. He may have sprung the horse from the stables without permission but she seems all the happier for it and, quite frankly, he isn't invested in returning her any time soon. People in the rustic restaurant may double-take the horse head looming in through a window and the horn-helmed figure beside her.

Cliché, maybe. Oh, well. At least he fits in with the rest of the Nordic-themed wallpaper. ]

Arrival

[She mostly remembers waking up in a strange room, and sitting up so fast she was almost sick. Memories of waking up in the hospital after almost dying make her uncomfortable, but this wasn't the same. There was some new jewelry she inspected as she turned to sit on the edge of the bed, now noticing her new visitor.

She chatted with her for a moment, before pausing to think. Gods existed? Something she didn't believe before, and still didn't now. A god is chosen, a god of knowledge, and she is lot out to explore.

And explore she did, soon seeing someone with a similar lost look.]

Hey. You new here too?

Flowers

[She normally wasn't a fan of flowers cut from the ground. She liked plants that could still grow, not those that would die after a few days in her house. But, since the natives of the place were handing them out, she wouldn't risk offended anyone by refusing them.

Anyone seeing her sitting somewhere will notice she's sweating a bit, and holding an Orange flower, and hear her muttering to herself.]

Feels like I never left Vegas...

Wildcard

[Hit me up with a wildcard~! Feel free to ping me on this journal if you want to plot something!]

I. Gods

The names of the gods were nothing to Robb. He didn't keep the Faith of the Seven, preferring the nameless gods and Heart Trees, but it seemed there was some necessity in choosing one here. Though none sat well with him. He thought he was a diplomat once, but his negotiations had been nothing more than a farce. He thought he was loyal and just, but his mistakes spoke otherwise.

It didn't matter in the end, so he chose the name that sat the most comfortably with him. He didn't expect to pray or anything else, not unless there was some sort of godswood, a semblance of home.

"What do you know of these gods?" He asked, glancing over at the figure next to him.

II. Wandering

There were at least fresh clothes to change into, allowing him the chance to stuff away the clothes from the Red Wedding. It wouldn't be hidden away from his memory, but the reminder wouldn't be so blatant. He still wore the cloak though. The dual direwolf pins offered him comfort and he could at least carry who he was. That wasn't taken away.

The streets were crowded, both by other new arrivals and those trying to purchase goods. He had no coin on him, but he could at least admire some of the weaponry available. The swords were in good condition and he knew he'd likely spend most of his time there.

He gave one of the blades a twirl, testing the weight. "These are good quality."

wandering / flowers.
[ There is something to be said for old gods, isn't there? When she had awakened, there had been far too many questions and not enough in the way of answers, and while no one has been unkind to her, Sansa is wary and out of her element. No one would know that by looking at her, though she stands out significantly with her dark clothes, the wolven pelt draped like a coat, and the stark red hair that falls about her shoulders. Instead, her face is a mask of calm as she walks through the streets, inspecting, careful in her wandering. The gods have been kind and yet she cannot help the uneasiness that settles within her.

Was there not enough trouble back home? Surely, surely there had been another suited. She thinks of Winterfell and --

She cannot let her thoughts be clouded by what-ifs.

Instead, she lingers at various places, inspecting the halls, admiring the library. The natives watch and a few ask her about the pelt at her shoulders, and compliment her. Sansa's smile is congenial, polite, and she asks after those there and their well being, vying for information or some better grasp of all that is going on. For her trouble, she is given flowers, and one of the natives takes great care to arrange them into the coil of braids at the back of her head. They press more into her hands, though they needn't, and Sansa goes to protest but the natives have moved on - and it seems rather rude to give them back.

So people might find her decorating a god house or two on the outside with flowers (just arranging them, really) or trying to offer them up, if only so they don't go to waste. ]

They're very lovely, [ that's said to you, if you try to inspect what she's doing. ] I haven't seen such beautiful flowers in some time. But they needn't be wasted on me like this.

[ Sansa produces a few, trying to hand them off. (Which color they are is up to you!) ]

tyr's district.
[ It's a beautiful place, filled with fine halls and meeting rooms, places where people can gather. It reminds her of home, right down to the warmth she feels here, as if standing close to an ever-roaring fire. It makes her a bit homesick, though she hasn't been gone for very long from Winterfell. Perhaps it's simply trepidation.

It is the temple where Sansa finds herself circling (in a sense) before finally getting up the nerve to go inside. Perhaps there are others her or she might be alone, but she looks for solace so she can gather herself. It's all just a bit too much for the moment.

Natives come in to offer tea and, eventually, she finds herself sitting on one of the plush couches with tea on a settee, her coat finally taken from her shoulders, and she seems deep in thought. When someone else enters, Sansa puts on a small and gentle smile. ]

There's plenty for two if you'd like to share?

[ And perhaps you can answer some questions, if you're looking particularly odd for someone from a medieval world with dragons, because boy, Sansa has questions. ]

wildcard.
[ HIT ME ]

( ooc: voicetesting! please hit me up via PM if you want a more particular starter. feel free to crit me too; I'm testing Sansa out for the first time. I'll flag spoilers if necessary but I'm looking to avoid that.

ALSO I'm fine with prose or action, and I'll match you. )

Edited 2019-05-15 23:16 (UTC)

I. FRESH OUT OF 1966

[If she hadn't time traveled twice in her life, Claire might be more alarmed than she currently is. Time travel, at least, makes more sense to her than Asgard. It's all a lot but she keeps her cool. A part of it is shock, she realizes, and once she's chosen a house (a bloody God House), she begins to wander the city to try and clear her mind.

If she's here, then anyone could be. So, abruptly, she might catch your attention. In a polite, very English voice, she asks a very important question:]

Pardon me. Have you seen a young girl, about eighteen, with long, red hair? She's my daughter. I don't even know if she would be here, but...

[For Brianna's entire life Claire's hidden her own unbelievable adventures from her, and to think of her being pulled into this city makes her stomach churn. Yet, at the same time--without her, her daughter is an orphan. An adult, but without parents now all the same. There's no winning.]

II. FRIGG'S DISTRICT

[Of course she finds the hospital. And of course the city's hospital is in Frigg's district. Claire, still in her white coat with C. Randall on a tag on her pocket, stands outside and looks up at the building.

Everywhere needs a healer, she supposes.

Eventually, she might head inside, but for now she seems content to scope the area out with a frown on her face.

The temple actually does a good job at calming her down despite the hundreds of questions no one seems to be able to answer that roll around over and over in her mind. It might take her a while to speak up, taking the place in, but if someone is near she will eventually.]

Are you... new, too?

Edited 2019-05-15 23:33 (UTC)

( endgame spoilers are NOT in the top level. let me know if you are okay with them! his canon point is post-endgame. )

( arrival )

[ tony is pissed.

it is one thing to be yanked to another dimension. such things, for better or for worse, are par for the course when it comes to the avengers. asgard itself isn't even a strange concept, but of all places to wind up, this was the last on his bucket list. new york? miami? prague? sure. asgard?

so, enjoy tony stark. exhausted, battered, strung-out tony stark, wandering around the place, stopping every so often to talk to curious natives, and can be overheard going: ]

-- right, I get that, World Tree, mysterious travelers, we're here to do something important, I don't care, where in the hell is Thor?

[ someone please tell him this is a prequel. ]

( odin district )

[ tony isn't really one for signing up for groups that aren't a fellow band of misfits, and even less inclined to swear allegiance to some random god that tony is fairly certain is probably not real. at any rate, he is curious, and so he can be found exploring the various houses, though he keeps . . . drifting . . . back to odin distrct.

if you're nearby: ]

How Harvard.

[ absently enough. tony seems distracted, exhausted, but his eyes are bright, as he stands outside of the library. ]

Do you think they're hooked up to the cloud, or are we using the Dewey Decimal system to find out what the hell is going on, here?

( house selectiont )

So let me get this straight.

[ tiredly, as tony sits in the park in the skadi district, sitting on a table, running his hands over his face. he seems to be talking to whoever is listening, at this point. scattered, distracted, trying to figure out how the hell to get out of here. think, tony, think . . . ]

We're in Asgard, or some version of it, and we have to . . . sign up for service? Pick a god, any god? To do what, community service? Argue about which pantheon is better? Prevent Ragnarok? Go to war? Blow up a planet?

[ he rubs his eyes tiredly. ]

Is the Rainbow Road a thing?

[ how do you get a one way ticket to the hell out of here. ]

( wildcard. )

[ ota! try to give tony flowers, track him down in other areas. etc, etc. ]

nero // devil may cry

daenerys targaryen | game of thrones

Ramsay Bolton / GOT/ Heimdall

Aqua ☆ Kingdom Hearts ☆ Heimdall

djeeta, granblue fantasy | honir

Steve Rogers | MCU

Dean Winchester | Supernatural

Tony Stark | MCU (Endgame Spoilers) | Heimdall

Daenerys Targaryen | Game of Thrones | OTA