#carolxvers

Asgard. An ancient kingdom of an ever more ancient people, splayed in front of her for the first time in a century. At least. It causes an ache that is deep seated and nearly as old as she is. The door of her ship opens, and Valkyrie sheathes her daggers and grabs a bottle of Titanian Ale. Her legs sway a little as she steps on the sacred ground, and she scoffs at the way she nearly falls over.

Perhaps this has been a mistake.

----

Several days pass in a blur and she mostly keeps to herself, even though she gets some curious glances from the Asgardian people, and every time she pulls her gloves a little bit further up to hide the tattoo that would uncover her true identity. No one here really knows who she is, not truly, but the rumor she is here on a plea from Thor Odinson; and she plans to keep it that way. People who try to speak to her, thinking that she is... foreign, get short head nods and vague answers, so they learn not to approach her in time.

The very morning when the Bifrost opens for the first time she has been there, there is a clamor among the people in the kingdom, and everyone rejoices that Thor, the rightful heir to the throne of his late father, is back. And he's bringing friends; and for the first time in five years after the snap, there is hope; According to the remaining Asgardians, at least— the Valkyrie herself is cynical and does not believe it in the slightest... and who could blame her, truly? All she knows is loss.

----

When she enters the throne hall for the first time in an age later that day, it's different; in the absence of Frigga and Odin, and everything that once made it home. It's completely empty, save for the guards that ask here where exactly she means to go, and she shrugs, saying that she was there on behest of their almost-King... Trying to talk her into whatever next adventure he has in store, undoubtedly.

Mildly curious, she makes her way to one of the side rooms they show her the way to, and once the doors open she is met with a sight of blonde hair and fabric— splayed all over the floor and hanging of different hooks as the maidens do their sewing on a woman the Valkyrie has never seen before. There's a moment of silence, then two, and when the brown pair of eyes meet hers, Valkyrie's eyebrows raise.

She is definitely not an Asgardian... but she is unbelievably pretty.

"Send me "&" for my muses reaction to yours tracing one of their scars." from Carol // accepting. @carolxvers

"Hmmm..." The hum is sleepy and content; both words unknown to Val on any other day and any other occasion. Seldom does she wake without a worry on her mind or no one knocking at her door at the crack of dawn, needing her services. It's been a regular thing... until Carol started staying over.

Now, gentle fingers trace across her scar, acquired in battle right under her ribcage, and she stretches not unlike a cat under the touch.

Whenever Carol is around, Val rarely wakes with a start, instead feeling safe and warm and reluctant to move for as long as her circumstances allow her to.

"Morning." She murmurs, opening a single eye to glance at the blonde hair splayed across her shoulders and chest. She knows Carol isn't asleep– she can tell by the shallow breathing and fingers creating slight patterns across Val's taut stomach muscles.

"Everyone is looking to me to handle things, to make the right decisions. Everyone is looking to me to lead. If I grieve, nobody else gets to." / @carolxvers

obligation is a cruel thing. death understands this more than most. sometimes there is no time to grieve.

and grief is not unfamiliar to her, either. she has seen it all. at carol's words, she hums in response at first, moving to sit next to her. death may not come off as comforting -- or as someone who experiences the full range of human emotions, really -- but she's seen more than enough grief in her lifetime to know it well.

in recent centuries, death has experienced love and loss firsthand. that sort of experience has done wonders for her own emotional range. she may not have experienced true human grief, but she's had a close enough brush with it that she feels like she just may understand this on a more intimate level than she had several years ago.

rio leans back, arms crossed over her chest, as she considers a response. rio knows the hero types. they're all the same. carol is one of the rare few she's seen without a selfish agenda. she's seen firsthand how many people captain marvel has saved from the verge of death.

"i get it. i'm not going to give you the whole speech about how you can't help others until you help yourself, or whatever. i'll just say..." she pauses, her tone serious. "violence isn't the only killer. stress does it, too. humans are sensitive. they need to deal with their shit in order to live better lives.

🍑 What is something you hyperfocus on in your portrayal?

plotted starter with @carolxvers

EVEN IF CAROL DOESN'T KNOW HER FACE, rio certainly knows her well enough to recognize her. she just so happens to be nearby, picking up the body and soul of a random stranger, when she gets that strange familiar feeling like she knows someone nearby. death remembers all that it takes. she remembers everyone, including maria rambeau, and the strange blonde woman who had seemed to pick up on her presence at the funeral. normally, rio can choose to be detectable or undetectable, aside from the usual feeling of death that follows her around, for obvious reasons.

captain marvel is different, though, and she knows it instantly. once her job is done, she finds herself wandering, until she's on a property that's not extremely familiar to her. maria rambeau had not died here, and so she had not been here in centuries, not since it belonged to a couple many ages ago who had died of natural causes in their beds. she sticks to the shadows of the forest just outside the property, and just looks. okay, maybe it's a bit stalker-ish, but she's curious. to what extent does captain marvel's powers go? can she sense her even now, creeping outside of her property?

actually, she probably should've known the answer to that. she probably shouldn't have been surprised that when she turns to leave, curiosity a lost thing in her mind, she sees the exact woman she'd been wondering about just feet from her. still shrouded in shadow, she decides that now's a good a time as any, and steps onto the grass, making herself known.

"i must be lost," she says casually, shrugging with her whole body and her hands, as if she wasn't just caught in the act. her smile is wicked and casual, and she doesn't hesitate to step closer to the uber-powerful woman looking at her. what must a blast like her feel like for those she fights against, she wonders? "is this not bass pro shops?? i was thinking about getting into fishing." she makes a fishing gesture with her hands, as though that explains it.