13215/Discordants: Tripping the Light Fantastic

Discordants: Tripping the Light Fantastic
Date of Scene:	29 October 2022
Location:	Hyperspace
Synopsis:	The one who is watched.
Cast of Characters:	Thor, Sera

---

Thor has posed:
    The last thing I remember...
    Was cracks in metal. Fractures in steel. But beyond that it was... a sense of importance. Something... that needed to be done. Something that needed to be done now.
    But that was over. That was before. This. Before all of this. Now nothing needed to be done. Nothing to be felt. Inward. Depth. Introspection. Peace. Feels like so much was left undone...
    Though it must ever feel like so much is left undone.
    Distance now. Quiet.
    Cold.

Sera has posed:
Exhaling one last breath of energy, like particulates on a cold day from the mouth, energy spilled out in to the onyx canvas. Space. And with it, Thor's body was flun. Ejected onto a course unknown. In the distance, splattered colors of nebula alight the backdrop.

The chiselled body, frozen through and through, flies without purpose through this endless void. The domain of darkness filled with light from distant stars. A rain of particles crashes over the body of the fallen Asgardian. Space dust, as unaccounted for as Thor himself.

"Well this is a bit of a bummer, eh Thor." It was a statement, not a question. Sitting astride the god of thunder, an alien of humanoid shape and form; long flowing white garb and no protections from the cruel harshness of space. Sitting side saddle, as it were, on his rock hard abs.

"I must say, this wasn't what I was expecting. Heroes vs Villains. Climactic battle between good and evil. All that usual jazz. Then poof, off on a magical mystery tour of the universe. Hardly seems fair," states the strange alien. Impossibly it seems whatever has brought this alien has brought too the ability for Thor to speak back.

Thor has posed:
    "Is it?" The answer is given impossibly by the floating burnt form of the Asgardian. Though he continued that slow twisting journey, barely seeming to move against the flowing tableau of space, he still passed through the cosmos at some indeterminable speed. Around them were miracles of beauty writ in the fabric of space and reality, gaping maws of black holes and curious roiling singularities.
    Yet the form of the man who had been answered without moving.
    "It seemed. Good. My friends escaped. They're safe I think."
    A pause.
    "I choose to believe they are safe."
    Then another pause as ice crackled along the bridge of his nose. "What were you expecting?"

Sera has posed:
The alien folds one leg over the other and leans a hand against the arm frozen in place trying futility to protect Thor's head from the explosion that took place. A finger taps almost rhythmically to the twinkling flash of a quasar off in impossible distance. So clear here.

"It's a good bet. You have amazing friends. I do wonder just how your family will do without you. Your chosen family too." The other hand gestures to the majesty of space. A wash of blues passes by them both, perhaps passing through a nebula.

"I guess I thought there'd be one of those cool heroic pose moments. You with hammer held high, your friends gathered around. Villain brought to justice, all is right in the world moments. Credits roll. Not literally of course."

"Now here you are. Floating in space. Kind of anticlimactic for Thor. Thor, god of thunder. Guy with fancy hammer. Friendly smile. Carries the weight of many worlds on his shoulders. Still, the view is rather nice isn't it."

Thor has posed:
    "They'll be fine,"
    Slowly the burned man turns in that slow twisting away, the figure in white turning along with him as if whichever way he turned was the proper angle for what passed for gravity in the dark. His one good eye remained closed, and his lips still had that sheen of ice. No hint to activity or motion, yet the words could be heard. Or perhaps felt.
    "My brother will prove himself. He needs to be needed. And he is." For a moment his turning form blocks the light from the nearest star, a reddish hued vision either just across the way or billions of miles far.
    "Sif. I will miss."
    A few moments, then a single word. "Valhalla."
    That word hangs there in the silence of space then. Pondered. Reflected.
    "I had hoped to be there. To find friends of my past... though I imagine they are all of my past now. I am saddened I wasn't worthy. I will miss them."

Sera has posed:
A moment of silence, but the creatures presence is still felt. Perhaps contemplation, or perhaps just enjoying the weird space transit.

"You needn't think like that Thor. You're worthy. The worthiest of worthy Thors," is said in a kind voice. "Thing is, you're not exactly ded now are you. Here you are, floating in space still. May be someone will find you. May be this is a next chapter in Thor: the life and times. May be you have many great things left to do."

A brief tension, hand clasping, "Wait? What's that? Is it a spaceship... no, sorry, just a rock. A nice rock." Pensive, "I didn't mean to get your hopes up there. That might have felt cruel but it was an honest mistake."

A planet orbits its distance sun, exposing the brilliant light of the red giant in a flash like a sunrise that lasts only a microsecond and then the scene is bathed in its glow as the journey carries on.

"Oh, how very rude of me. I haven't even introduced myself. I'm a big fan you see. I like to watch all the battles. I especially liked that giant K'jerat you befriended when everybody around you was chanting for you to kill it. Such a lovely beast it was, so tame of heart but fearful of its tiny neighbors."

A hand is offered. To the darkness of space, Thor's battle battered body incapable of returning it. The hand shakes in the darkness as if it had been. "I'm a Watcher. I have a name but it's policy not to share it. Although, may be it doesn't matter in this case. Ptra. Such a pleasure to meet you."

Thor has posed:
    Of all those things said to him, what Thor keys onto is near the end and which draws quiet words from him. Or what passes for the him that is in the now.
    "A Watcher?" The universe continues to go on by, timelessness lingering, drawing out. That word is considered before thoughts are given to what was said before. "That would be nice if it were so."
    The still existing thing. The still in tune with reality thing. It's something far off and away for him in the moment. "What is it I can do for you? Though I fear..."
    Another pause.
    "I can do little."

Sera has posed:
The question goes unanswered for a while. The alien Ptra seems content just to share these moments with Thor. "Sadly, there is very little to do but be in the moment. I thought it might get a bit lonely. May be you could do with some company to pass the time."

A sense that the alien is smiling at this notion in a friendly way. "I always wanted to be your friend. Watching you drink your mead and share true joy with others. But that's not we Watchers do. We watch, we don't interfere."

"It can be a hard existence. Knowing you could help. Knowing you could set things right. But then there's this little thing called morality. It would be immoral to interfere, to pick sides, to choose my own desired outcome over what is to be..... still doesn't stop me wanting it to be so. I think you know a little of what I'm saying. Your role in life isn't easy either."

Thor has posed:
    "Ah,"
    A single sound that seems to float between them. It hangs there, silence again taking primacy between them. Then there is a hint of gentleness in his voice. "I know of what you say, I believe. Though I am weak. I act selfishly at times. I chose long ago to... do what my heart wished. To protect the people I felt were noble, that deserved our aid."
    Those words seem to echo softly, a hint of reverberation entering his voice as if growing more distant.
    "It is my father. He sees things as you do. Holds himself apart. For to do otherwise steals the..." One can almost imagine his brow furrowing as he seeks the word.
    Only for him to then find it, "Steals the agency of others. If he were to take such control as you say."
    Another pause, then the reverberation is a little more distant. "Perhaps some day you will be able to set down your woes and bonds. And then you can find Sif. Seek her out. Tell her you knew me. And that we were friends. Then share a drink together in my name."
    Quieter still. "That would make me happy."

Sera has posed:
A curtain of reflective rocks creates a mirror of one half of the galaxy briefly. Thor's body reflected in parts, distorted by the sheer angles of the stones but in total an account of his state of being. The alien Ptra is not reflected back though.

The infinity wonders of the universe and nothing but time to reflect upon it all. Another planet with three moons chasing their own tails; the last of them cracked and pouring out its contents like a broken bag dropping the groceries - frozen in time.

"Do you think whoever made all this though: one day Thor is going to float by here and it'd be nice for him to have something to look at. Perhaps no other sentience has ever travelled through this part of space before. You and I, the first to see any of this."

Thor's self-reflection isn't remarked on for a while until Ptra answers it, "I think you're too hard on yourself. It's your place to be there. To make a difference. You have saved too many lives for me to remember them all. Your father, Odin, he learnt the hard way that what beats in his own heart is not always right for everyone else. But you are not your father. Perhaps one day you will find the need to distance yourself too - but not yet."

There's a wistful longing air in the moment and then the alien shakes their head, "Sif will never know me. You will not remember me either. But I will always be watching. My favorite of Asgard. And may be you will get to tell her about yourself soon too. It's one of our rules. No jumping ahead to the ending. It spoils the story. So I have to wait and see - just like you."

A flash of light shines down over them and Ptra gives the space craft a wave. "Hey would look at that! It wasn't a rock after all." The light shines through Ptra for they are apart from this universe.

Thor has posed:
    "I don't know..."
    For a time the wonder of the universe does seem to just drift slowly past them, that crystalline imagery reflecting so much as Thor's awareness seems to fade oh so slowly. "It is beautiful, however."
    Then his voice softens further, that awareness seeming to slip away, "Then I bid you peace, Ptra. Whom I shall never know. Peace."
    And as that sense of self slowly fades, distantly that lie passes again through the white-clad figure who no longer remains. Settling on the broken form of the floating Avenger.