#mischieftm

(Plotted pre-Thor one/during Thor one starter for @mischieftm )

. . . .

Out of all the spells that she’d tried to learn, this one was the most difficult. The one that took the most time, the most secrecy. Always being interrupted by the less-than-gracious people of her dimension made learning anything after a certain point in her life nearly impossible to do. It was only through her determination to leave this place - fueled by a desperate desire to save her last remaining child from dying at the king’s hands - that she managed it. That was how she and her son had ended up here.

Wherever here was.

The flashing of an unstable magical portal faded away as she sank to her knees, a good portion of her energy now gone. Even though the woman had been preparing for this for a very long time, she still found it had made her feel weak. Bruises littered her body, as well as what looked to be cute that were trying to heal up. Although her own condition was not something that she was focusing on. Her focus was on the small child in her arms, sleeping away as if nothing had happened.

Taking in a few shaky breaths, she ran her fingers through his hair, a look of affection on her face as only a mother could give. It was not until she heard a sound in the dark place that she’d ended up, that her green eyes - dulled after so long of being mistreated by the others in her life - sharply darted up and glanced around. Despite being in no condition whatsoever to fight, she’d still pulled out a dagger with her free hand.

It only had hit her just then, that wherever she’d taken them might be worse than where they’d come from. The fear of this showed in her eyes and in her demeanor; she was behaving a lot like how one would expect for a wounded mother wildcat to act - who was cornered and still trying to protect her babies.

“I know you’re there..” she hissed lowly, now trying to get up so as to look less unimposing. “Come out.” Her gaze darted around again shakily, a tight hold on both her sleeping child and the dagger in her other hand. Thoughts were racing through her head now. What if she had accidentally brought them to a place worse than where they had come from? What if this was a dimension more cruel than their own? These things were hard to imagine, although her fear of both was very real. It was quite likely that this woman, tall and pale, thin and otherwise very attractive, was not going to come off of high alert even the slightest bit until she had an answer to where she was, and to who it was that she swore that she could hear moving around in the darkness.

She had no idea that she’d ended up in someone’s room, much less that it was night and that it was time for sleeping here. It had been afternoon, where she’d just been. Her son was simply having a nap right now. Which was something - he was so calm, compared to how on edge his mother was.

The fall of the All-Mother is something that cannot be accepted. By anyone. Hokulani had been there for an entirely different reason when the Dark Elves attacked. Thor had gone after Malekith and Algrim, leaving Jane Foster behind. Hokulani burst into the room a moment later, splattered with blood, hair wild as ever. Her sword is dropped as she goes to her knees at Frigga’s side, shedding her body as she does so, becoming pure, raw energy. 

Despite her physical body falling into a trance-like state, she was still aware of what was going on around her. “Tell me what happened.” This was directed to the human woman, Jane, who relayed what lead up to this moment. 

Hokulani entered the All-Mother’s body at lightning speed. An Asgardian was built much like a human, but they were... sturdier. She used her own healing energy to push Frigga into a coma-like state, slowing down her heart, and thus her blood flow. She was aware of Odin entering the room and taking his wife into his arms. Thor returned, unable to catch the two Dark Elves before they got to their ship. 

She repaired the All-Mother from the inside out, stitching the wound meticulously, missing no detail. Making sure tissues and organs would be just as they were. When Hokulani returned to her own body, she blinked several times. Becoming aware of yourself was always a strange feeling. 

“You’re sure?” The question came from Odin and Hokulani could only nod.

After a moment, Frigga stirred, lashes lifting. It was clear it took her a moment to figure out she was indeed still in Asgard and not Valhalla, then she reached up to lay her palm against her husband’s cheek. Hokulani moved aside, and Thor took her place, and then Frigga was squeezing both of them. 

“Hoku, I’m assuming you’re the reason I’m here.”

“You can’t leave us so easily, my friend.” Nevermind that it took a mass amount of energy to heal an Asgardian, there was no way in Hel that Hokulani would let Frigga die. 

Thor crushed her in a hug before moving to Jane’s side to make sure she was okay. As Odin helped Frigga to her feet, he spoke to Hoku. “You saved my Queen. I want to give you something in return. Name it.” 

It was a well-known fact that Odin did not approve of his wife’s friendship with Hokulani. Why was anyone’s guess, though there were rumors that millennia ago, Odin had once courted Hokulani before meeting Frigga. No one dared ask if this was true or not. A long look passed between the All-Mother and the Queen of Hawiki before Hokulani turned her dark eyes back on Odin.

“Your son. I want your son.”

Thor immediately opened his mouth to protest but was silenced when Hoku held up her hand. 

     “ Well, no. But I do wanna know if I was s’posed      to do anything too an’ didn’t know. “ 

Eyes catch onto the pathway not far off, though she takes the invitation and sits down at the table, hues gazing over the various items placed about. Quick to take a sip of the champagne, pleased by the fact it’s sweet, rather than bitter. 

@cuckoofor-cocopuffs | @mischieftm | @guvernantka | @thewarmaster | @strongcigarettesandliquor | @leftsea |

After years of political meetings–dragged along with her father to play friend to the two princes–Peach had never imagined that she would have been staring up at the Asgardian palace as anything other than royalty. But here she was, a refugee, sent from Nidavellir when the mad titan had come.

Because her father had known no help would come in time to save them. So he’d shoved her into a hidden passage behind a wall in the royal study, told her to run and locked it behind her–save yourself, he had said.

And she had, going to the only place she could think of that might have been able to provide her sanctuary from the monsters that had invaded her beloved Nidavellir.

                                                          { Asgard }

Fingers playing anxiously with one of the flaxen ringlets that were falling down around her face, she made her way on bare feet along the rainbow bridge. Pink silk slippers carried along with a small purse containing her crown and the jewels she wore–a bartering chip for he who was king. She doubted that she would need it however, Odin had always liked her ever since he’d found her in the middle of the night, reading one of the beginner books on Asgardian magic in the royal library.

Nearing the gates, she took a deep breath and did her best to remember all the times that Amilla had told her to carry herself like the queen she would be one day. Straight back, dropped shoulders, lifted chin, walking with the thought of murder trailing through her head; she did her best to wield a regal command that few had ever seen from her–that those that knew her would have never believed.

              Hel couldn’t sleep, she was feeling more than restless as she walked trough the home that her mother had brought them to. Her face was slightly pale but already she had perfected her glamour. She did not want anyone to see her true image, not even her family. Hel paused when she heard the sound of her brother Fenrir snoring and then smiled softly. Her mouth leapt into her heart as she caught the sight of someone in the shadows. Hel’s fingers curled as a slivery strain of magic began to grow in her hand. She had found that she had some of her father’s skills but she was linked more to necromancy and earth linked magic than he was. “Who is there?” She spoke softly. 

Meme: Nonverbal RP Starters (Accepting)

The usual group had settled in for the night, mid-way through supper. Low burning embers crackled on the fire. Sif swallowed another mouthful of sourdough bread. Loki grinned and pushed a book towards from across the table. 'What's this?' A bright smile spread across her lips, green eyes locked with blue.

She picked up the red leather bound book, the edges decorated in gold weaved into a floral pattern. Written in runic, the title read History of War: Volume 3 - Vanaheim (1st Edition). ‘Did you sneak this out of Odin’s private collection?’ The warrior teased, Odin’s edition had a gold cover with silver edging. Since a young age the maiden always had a special interest in history. The pair, both due to Frigga’s influence, were bookworms. They chose to read thick volumes and texts on avanced science and magic.