#whitefoxed

@whitefoxed

Winter had arrived early this year, transforming the forests and swamps of Svartalfheim into a vast, white wilderness of snow and ice. The world outside Algrim's study was silent and still as the councillor sat bent over his desk, his quill scratching across the parchment in steady, rhythmic strokes. A fire snapped and crackled in the fireplace, filling the room with a welcoming warmth.

“Lise, Min lille rev, I love you more dearly than anyone. I was only joking about Grandmaster and Mobius. I implore you to forgive me.” 

@whitefoxed from this

One man's magic was another's mutation. To Samson it had never been clear which was which, if in fact it made any difference. No matter what world it was, the prevailing culture always seemed ready to believe that whatever race or culture might exist in opposition to itself was inferior and therefore, to be dismissed as "not-people."

At one time or other in his strange career, Commander Samson had dealt with mages, mutants, humans, and creatures both physical and...not. To him all these beings had two things in common: (1) They were People; and (2) They were Annoying. As individuals perhaps they were decent enough, but in groups they were enough to give Security Directors migraines, and occasionally, nightmares.

Take this reception tonight. As everyone knew, the entire reason for it was a blue crystal found deep beneath the mountains of the Kingdom of Lesotho. The current Red Queen, Fan'an Khapoor, was aunt to the chieftain of the Wakandas; and her consort Amari Maddox, the Red King, was one of the main developers of the now world-famous vibranium weapons systems. So of course everyone, their brothers, and their old maid aunties, were going to be at this so-called Disarmament Conference...

Samson scowled as his eyes swept over the Hydra contingent. He supposed that even post-Apartheid, it was inevitable that a small remnant of Afrikaaners would be sympathetic to--or directly involved in--what he regarded as a Neo-Fascist movement.

Feeling a sudden chill, he shivered as he caught a glimpse of a man in black, looking back at him.

"Raleigh?" said the Red Queen, sounding concerned as she laid a hand on his arm. "Are you all right?"

The soldier had put the target down as he had been ordered. After that, his handlers had ordered him into the house to search. Generally, the soldier was not used on retrieval missions. However, this one had included an elimination components and he had been on countless missions of that type. While the HYDRA agents searched the residence, the asset had been instructed to remain outside, rifle at the ready in case the target had been able to call for backup before his untimely death. 

Nothing had come and the soldier was brought back to the base. His commander had been injured during the initial infiltration of the target’s property and had to be taken to the medical wing. This left the soldier to report the particulars of the mission alone, a rarity. Finding his superior was simple, but the soldier waited for several moments before speaking. He could not risk being bad and subsequently punished after just returning. 

“Sir,” he stated, voice rough from disuse, “the mission is complete.” 

          { @whitefoxed -- plotted starter }

♔—- “Are you sure about this, Loki?” Fandral asked, eyeing the massive tree warily. “It doesn’t... look much like a portal or a passageway.”

To Fandral’s credit, he was right. It didn’t look like much but a tree with a massive, split trunk. Ordinary eyes would not be able to see that within the split sat an ancient power used by generations long forgotten to transport off-realm. Not many knew these passageways existed anymore, aside from Loki--who had found them through relentless searches of the realm he’d been raised on--and Heimdall, the watcher who stood guard at the end of the Bifrost, who saw all things, no matter how small.

“Would it not just be easier to take the Bifrost? Heimdall would surely be willing to assist us--”

“Yes,” Loki agreed, glancing back at Fandral and the small group that he’d been charged to lead on this expedition. “The Bifrost would be easier and Heimdall’s help would be very much appreciated, however, the Bifrost doesn’t exactly make a subtle entrance, does it? We need to slip into the realm unseen and without causing a disturbance, otherwise, our task becomes five times more difficult. I’ve used this passage before. I assure you, it’s safe. Trust me, please?”

“You know I do, my prince,” Fandral agreed and he did mean that wholeheartedly. Others likely thought him daft for trusting a sorcerer so gifted in the art of deceit that he could lie to even the best of them, but they did share a bond most didn’t know about and wouldn’t understand. Fandral trusted Loki with his life enough to concede to this now, regardless of how... off it seemed.

“Good, then I’ll go first. Follow after me quickly, but one at a time.” He didn’t linger for any more complaints or skepticism and, instead, stepped forward. Reaching out, he placed one hand on the massive trunk of the tree, followed by his second hand. Hoisting himself up by gripping at a warped knot in the trunk, Loki stepped into the split and immediately disappeared from view. 

“What the Hel?” a couple voices murmured in unison. 

Fandral looked back at the small group and shrugged his shoulders. “You heard our prince. We best not keep him waiting.” Before anyone could stop him, the swordsman was following in Loki’s footsteps, hoisting himself up into the split in the tree and disappearing from view.

One by one, the small party tumbled out the other side of the hidden passageway. Much to most of their surprises, too, because they all believed this to be one of Loki’s jokes or Loki bullshitting them in some capacity. 

What they found, however, was not a realm any of them were familiar with. They were supposed to let out on Vanaheim, but rather than wander into magical forests filled with strange and lively creatures and a rippling power that stood as a solid defense to outsiders, they were in a thick, dense fog that stretched on for miles, so much so that it became difficult to see anyone even if they were standing directly in front of you.

Fandral’s hand reached out to grab hold of Loki’s shoulder, gripping it firmly more to ground himself from the sudden shock that transporting across realms could do to the body than anything else, but also to ensure his prince hadn’t wandered too far without them. Getting lost in the thick of this place seemed like an impossible endeavor, one that could have a person lost forever.

“This doesn’t look like Vanaheim,” Fandral breathed, his eyes closing for a moment so he could try to keep his head from spinning anymore violently than it already was. How could Loki do this on a regular basis? Had he just built up a tolerance for it or was Fandral just weak? Maybe a mixture of the two?

“No...” Loki murmured, his tone even, though Fandral knew the sorcerer well enough to sense that edge of worry creeping up into Loki’s usually calm demeanor. “It doesn’t. Not that I’ve been to every region of Vanaheim, but this... definitely does not look to be the right destination. I don’t? Understand. I’ve used that passage plenty of times. It always took me to the same spot on Vanaheim.”

“And this is not it?”

“No...”

“All right,” Fandral murmured. “Let’s not panic. We can just go back through the passage and step back out on Asgard, yes?”

              “What have you done this time, Lise?”

@whitefoxed