4825/Don't believe the Hyp

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Don't believe the Hyp
Date of Scene: 22 January 2021
Location: Avengers Mansion - Kitchen
Synopsis: Hyperion and Thor chat about a myriad of things.
Cast of Characters: Thor, Hyperion




Thor has posed:
     Late evening at the Avenger's Mansion, and a certain god hungers. What would satiate him tonight? Roasted lamb and a hefty tankard of beer, of course.

  Luckily, Thor had found the joys of the refrigerator! The caped Norse god had cracked open his cask of Yule ale to pour himself a heavy mug, almost a foot tall, and as of two seconds ago, was tugging a leg of lamb out of the chill chest.

  As of lately, Thor was mostly absent from the halls of Avenger's Mansion, but as he is wont to, he's been taking care of things in Asgard.

Hyperion has posed:
    The fridge is a useful thing. Hyperion, dressed in his civilians attire of blue jeans and a red flannel work shirt, doesn't do a lot of sleeping. It's not that he can't sleep and ends up with insomnia.. it's more that he just doesn't feel fatigue the way normal people do.
    He also barely eats or drinks. Mostly only for the pleasure of doing so. But he was watching some late night CNN in the living area when his ears picked out the sound of someone in the kitchen.
    So a few moments later, as Thor pulls out that leg of lamb, the auburn/red haired Mark Milton stands in the doorway, "Munchies?" he asks.

Thor has posed:
     Rearing back, Thor takes a bite out of the leg before closing the door to the fridge. "Of course." He comments after finishing his bite.

  Walking up to the counter, he grasps the tall mug, and drinks a gulp. "And you, Hyperion? Why dost thou not slumber?" His blonde hair getting in the way a bit with his meat. Mjolnir had been set upon the kitchen counter, resting while its master refueled himself.

Hyperion has posed:
    Tilting his head, Hyperion shrugs his shoulders, "My... biology is not that of most peoples'." he admits as he strides to the fridge. He reaches with index finger and thumb to -carefully- pull the door open, and when it only opens and doesn't fly across the room.... he grins as he looks back towards Thor.
    "It turns out... when I came to this mansion, I had a scan done. It turns out that unlike in my home universe, I am -not- the only one of my species here. I am what is known as an Eternal. Fueled by the background energy of the universe. There is so much background energy in -this- universe that I barely need to sleep or eat. There is so much that back home I Was able to lift fifty tons at max, but here... the most I have lifted is two hundred tons, and I did not feel like I was truly straining myself. The energy here is quite... proliferate. So to answer your question... I am sustained by the power that is all around us. Like your Star Wars movie." he adds with a grin. "I have to admit though, it is quite a new experience for me to meet a god."

Thor has posed:
     "Only two hundred?" He's never attempted his maximum. But that doesn't mean he cannot boast like he hasn't. "Yes, I also do not slumber as most do in this realm. But as the Midgardians say, New York is the city that dost not sleep."

  "Star Wars? I am not familiar with this." He admits, though he is not unaware of films, he just doesn't know most of them. "Is it a film of quality?"

  Thor gives a smile as Hyperion talks of meeting a god. "Hail and well met!" He harks, before consuming more lamb.

Hyperion has posed:
    "Like I said, I've no idea where my max lift might be. But perhaps you could help me test my strength?" Hyperion asks with a bit of hope in his voice, "You are durable enough that I would not worry overmuch about being able to injure you but..." A pause and then he adds, "I have heard that your hammer there.." he says, gesturing to Mjolnir there. "Is heavily enchanted. I recently learned that my own durability does not extend to such weapons. So if you could find your way clear to -not- lay me out with it, I would be most appreciative."

Thor has posed:
     "Forged in the heart of a dying star. Only those worthy able to lift it?" He had figured that Hyperion was going to ask to lift it, but the sudden swerve was a tasteful sojourn from the usual question. "You suggest sparring without my hammer?" His face looks a bit skeptical before giving a hearty nod. "Very well." He concludes, before giving a wide smile. "I look forward to our training." Most people would second guess themselves about now, but of course, Hyperion is not most people.

Hyperion has posed:
    "Dying star? I had read in the stories that it was made in a dwarven forge." offers Hyperion. "But, mythologies are just that, myths. Not to be taken as fact I suppose." he adds with a smile.
    "But I wasn't speaking of fighting, sparring so much as just... pitting strength against one another. Arm wrestling? Maybe simply clasping hands and pressing until a limit is reached?"
    "I figure, as the most physically strong of your people... unless the stories of a son named Magni are true?" he asks, fishing to see if Thor is a daddy or not. "But either way, you should have no problem overpowering me. I just want to learn where my own limit is." Yeah. Hyperion pretty good at being self-depreciating. But he also literally has no idea how high his limit -might- be.

Thor has posed:
     "Dwarven, yes. Where dost thou think the forge is?" Thor asks as he pulls a barstool to sit down on. "The son of whom?" Asks Thor, before then wilting just a bit, until arm wrestling is involved. "Ahh, yes. I have done this with the one Midgard refers to as 'Power Girl'.

  "Then I look forward to wrestling arms with thee. But...until you know if you can best me in this battle, do not automatically admit defeat. Inspire thyself, believe." His husky voice and puffed up chest is confident, sure of himself and his stratagem.

Hyperion has posed:
    "I find that I read very fast." offers Hyperion as he reaches into the fridge and gently withdraws a bottle of cream soda. He grimaces as he reaches finger and thumb to the twist off cap and as he is twisting it off, the neck of the bottle collapses into shards of glass... spilling a quarter of the soda to the floor.
    Hyperion sighs and shakes his head as he sets the bottle on the counter and reaches for a cleaning rag to use as he crouches onto the floor.
    But as he does so, he glances up and says, "In some of the stories of the Norse gods, Thor had a son named Magni who was even stronger than his father. Lifted a mounted off of him... and was able to lift Mjolnir. But.." he shrugs, "In those stories, the hammer was merely heavy and had nothing about worthiness in its restrictions."
    He grins and adds, "Remember, these are stories written by humans in the age of the Vikings. Apparently... in those stories, Magni was destined to survive Ragnarok too."

Thor has posed:
     "Well. I can confirm that as of this moment, I have no children. And most in Asgard tend to prefer it so."

  Though, he certainly has not thought about settling down, the thought of having legends about his own children is a bit reassuring. "Of course, the same sort that have me walking on a rainbow to travel the realms."

  "I had heard speak of a Midgard invention for that...a bottle 'opener'. Using one could perhaps avoid breaking the vessel."

Hyperion has posed:
    Nodding his head, Hyperion shrugs, "Rainbows could work, if there was enough magic after all." A pause and then he looks at Mjolnir once more, "So, -is- the weapon magical? Or is magic just a name for something that was not understood yet?" he inquires as he finishes cleaning the floor and stands back up. "And yeah. I'll have to try a bottle opener next." He just shrugs and moves to sit down without bothering trying to get a drink. He didn't need one. Just had the thought that vanilla would taste good.

Thor has posed:
     "Mjolnir? Not as much as some say." Thor concludes, looking back at the hammer before emptying his mug into his mouth. "Magic exists. Loki can attest to such a statement."

  Thor stands, and places his mug into the sink gently, not with only his thumb and index finger, but the glass lowers and connects with the stainless steel with a quiet clank. "As for adjusting to this realm, you will find the level of strength you need."

Hyperion has posed:
    "I know that there is magic. I was cut by a magical axe." offers Hyperion with a shrug, "Fortunately, I also heal very fast, but.. as someone who has never been cut before..." he shrugs his shoulders as he sits there, "It was alarming for certain."
    A pause, and then he stands, "So as someone who was used as fuel for AIM for two years, I would wager that your hammer would find me unworthy. Maybe someday I will ask about trying. But not yet." he adds.

Thor has posed:
     "Used." Thor points out. "I guess that your usage as fuel was against your will?" Thor asks, before raising an eyebrow and looking for the answer, of which he can also guess. "Taking damage is no shame. But I do understand your meaning."

Hyperion has posed:
    "I would not know if it was my will or not. I was in a coma from the moment I was dragged into this universe, until two years later when your people found me and disconnected me." answers Hyperion with a shake of his head. "Would you like to go and test our strength now? Or wait for another day?" he inquires. "I've no preference really."

Thor has posed:
     "Unconscious? Then you were not willing, in my eye." He comments. Thor's leg of lamb was lifted again, before he reaches the fridge and puts it back in. "Let us wait for another day, possibly during the day. In case there is 'collateral damage'."

Hyperion has posed:
    "Perhaps we could make an event of it, let others enjoy it as a show?" asks Hyperion. "Surely you could make it entertaining. I'm not quite as much of a... shall we say, people person as you seem to be."