AN: I was feeling pretty unfocused when I wrote this chapter, so it has quite a scrappy feel to it. So, apologies in advance and thanks for reading!
Child of Thanos: Part Four: My New Friends...uh, Enemies,...No, Frenemies!
I suppose that you want names and physical descriptions of the members of the Black Order. Very well. Wait, what are you doing with that notebook, Thor? Is it what I think it is? Oh, it is! You actually keep a list of all your enemies! And you've ranked them, too. Why aren't I in the book? Well, I'm touched that you wish to enter the Black Order into your I-Want-To-Fight list.
Let's start with Glaive Man. Goes by the name of Corvus Glaive; I assume that this an assumed name and not his birth name. It would be quite odd if his signature weapon was only favoured by him because it also happened to be his surname. By that logic the galaxy would be a far happier place if his name was Corvus McFeatherduster.
He is tall, lean, grey skinned, pointy ears, clawed hands and split feet. As I said before, he is extremely agile and strong. Actually, the leader of the Black Order, but is surprisingly humble about it. Doesn't like to brag. Or even talk very much at all. Morose. Silent. Yet is skilled at managing his team. Absolutely devoted to his mission. And his wife.
Yes, it is odd how we just assume that villains are never the marrying type, but apparently some are. And who is the lucky lady? Proxima Midnight, one of the women I mentioned earlier. This might sound strange, but I found their relationship to be rather sweet, even if it felt slightly incestuous. Why incestuous? I'll get to that. We even took time to celebrate their fifteenth wedding anniversary. Adorable or gross, either way as soon as I found out about them I added their marriage to my mental checklist of weakness I could potentially exploit.
Proxima Midnight, . Spear Lady. Is very handy with a three-pronged spear which she can summon telepathically back to her hand. Tactically this puts her an advantage because she can hurl her spear and continue to fight without having to waste time scrabbling around to retrieve it. It's also good for toasting marshmallows and as a back-scratcher.
She has long dark hair, lots of eye make-up and a helmet with horns...No, she does not look like me! I am reminded of Hela, who looks nothing like me.
Then we have Ugly-Most-Foul or Ebony Maw. I have already described his appearance to you, as for his personality, well, let's just say that you would not have trouble picking him out of the crowd. Of the Black Order he had taken on the role of Thanos' herald or priest, even. Not a single conversation passed by without him finding a way to reference the "great Thanos" or the "mighty and wise Thanos", often in loud and obnoxious tones. Most worryingly of all there was complete sincerity in his proclamations. At first I mistakenly thought that maybe he did so out of anxiety or fear of being seen less than absolutely devoted to his master, but over time I came to understand that his loyalty was bone-deep and unshakeable. He really believes that Thanos is the greatest being to have ever moved through this reality, that the "mighty and wise" Thanos is perfect and incapable of error, that Thanos is destined to save the universe.
He has powers of telekinesis, but his greatest strength lies in his uncanny ability to bend people to his will, to bring them onto his side, and to make them believe in his "noble cause" just as strongly as he does. Makes them willing to die for Thanos.
Next is Supergiant. She habitually wore a white hooded cloak. And she was the most volatile of the group; her powers the most frightening. She was able to float through solid objects and control the minds of multiple victims at once. Oh, and she had penchant for consuming people's intellects, leaving them mindless zombies. So, you know, overall I think I can sum her up as a sweet and gentle woman. But, honestly, it was a thrill to know her, though. It was exhilarating never knowing from one moment to the next if she would succeed in breaking through my mental barriers and drinking up my mind.
What? Did I sleep with her? What do you think?
Now, what can I say about Cull Obsidian that I haven't already said? In truth, I rather miss old Cully. Not much. But, it was fun having someone new to bother.
So, now you know their names, I can move onto the more important information. They are not the only members of the Black Order. There are so many more out there, Thor, all killing in the name of Thanos, spreading fear and chaos for the sake of salvation, and all steadfastly devoted to their "father". You see the Black Order are his adopted children. Thanos' children. He selects a planet, usually an isolated one few have heard of, decimates it, and selects a child to kidnap and raise as his own. He makes sure that they're young enough to twists their minds and weaponises them. Then he sends them back out into the world to carry out his will.
Well, obviously I was an exception. Yes, it does have some things in common with a cult. But, like I said, I was an exception because normally they would only target truly vulnerable people, usually from broken homes, disillusioned with life, and at their lowest ebb...people who have nowhere else to go...and who -who are looking for a new family...oh. Bastards.
But, the Black Order, Thor, their mission is find things, precious things. Yes, the Infinity Stones. And they will stop nothing to get their grubby mitts on them. Too bad that they don't know that the Tesseract/Space Stone has been destroyed. High five me, bro!
Anyway, I was marched further out into the countryside, closely surrounded by the members of the Black Order, should I get cold feet and try to make a bolt for the forest in the east. We were never raised to run away, but it had occurred to me more than once that maybe they were planning on killing me after all. They could do so very easily. But the death blow never came. And I didn't once try to escape. I possessed neither the energy or the inclination to do so.
Instead, I focused on appearing at complete ease, as though all was right in the burning, little world, and that I did not have the wit to appreciate the danger I was in. I must have looked utterly bone-idle to them.
By now night had fallen, which lifted my spirits a jot. My eyesight has always been sharper in the dark. An unwelcome thought leapt into my head, informing me that it must be because I am a Frost Giant. In the past, for every quirk I had experienced it was explained away by my being a god of the night. Now I was wondering if that too had been a lie to stop me from asking too many questions.
Eyes hurting in the daylight, Loki? Don't fret; you're a night-time god.
Always drowsy during the summer? Because you're a god of the night, and night is always so much cooler than day...
Feel more at ease during the winter? Oh, Loki, you're night-time god!
I had not allowed myself any time to process the truth about myself, and I was not about to start now. I pushed the the thoughts to the back of mind, ignoring the quickening of my heart.
In the distance on top of a hill, I could see numerous sharp beams of light pointing upwards into the stormy sky, looking like needles stuck in a black pin-cushion. On the ground was the shifting, black mass of many individuals moving towards the lights in order that they may be teleported onto their waiting ships.
"Your little helpers?" I asked, casually.
"Don't ask questions," Glaive Man grunted, shoving me in the small of the back.
Don't ask questions. I was going to hear that a lot.
Were they the Chitauri? Don't ask questions, Thor. Okay, okay, no, as it happens they were not our old, useless friends. I had, in fact, caught my first glimpse of the Outriders, Thanos' top army of genetically engineered warriors. The Chitauri were a poor second-best he had knocking around in the bargain bucket of evil minions and ready to palm off on those allies he could not quite bring himself to fully trust. Honestly, I deserved so much better.
Later, I was to find out more about the Outriders, but for now all I could surmise was that they were the Black Order's foot soldiers. Why they had wrecked such havoc on what looked to be a harmless, backward planet in the name of saving the universe was still a mystery to me.
Finally, we came to a halt in the middle of a wasteland, and tilting my head back saw the strangest looking ship I have ever seen. Known as the Q-Ship, it is vast and circular with a hole in the middle. Yes, like a gigantic doughnut. The ship itself has no name – naming a vessel would be too sentimental for these people - so from now on I will just refer to it as the Doughnut.
We were quickly beamed aboard and would they give me a tour? No they would not! I wonder why that was? But, rather, they escorted me straight into a cramped cabin with nothing in it but a bed and a sink and a hidden camera – I could hear it buzzing in the corner of the ceiling. I didn't mind it's sparseness. I had all I needed.
"Rest here awhile," Ugly Maw told me. "I will collect you when it is time to eat. Any dietary requirements?"
I blinked at him. For all my travels over the Nine Realms I had not come across the phrase before. Was I so low on magic that even my All-Speak was on the fritz?
"Is there anything that you can't or won't eat?" Ugly Maw clarified in a slightly louder voice.
I thought quickly. I was afraid of exposing any weakness that they could later use against me. If I told them that I was under a strict "dietary-geise" not to consume meat, then what could stop them from forcing me to chow down on steak and later be killed for it? I would be far from the first person to die because they had been forced to break their geise.* And yet I must be seen to be fully trusting of my new companions.
"I'm not fond of meat," I said, lightly. "Anything else will be fine, thank you."
"Oh, that is a shame," Ugly said, in a rather simper-y voice.
"In what way?"
"Well, you did say you were of the Wildfire. Fire and meat are often found together, are they not? The fire in the humble hearth or campfire, the meat hanging over it, slowly cooking."
I smiled thinly. "I am of Wildfire. Not domesticated fire."
"Is there a difference?"
"Where I come from? Yes. Domesticated fire is tamed fire, controlled by men for their own purposes. Wildfire only destroys. However, all fire is dangerous, even tamed fire. Turn your back on it or fail to treat it with proper respect and it will burn your house down."
"Hmm. Oh, well, here you are among friends." He bowed slightly.
"Thank you, Ebony."
"Sleep well, Logi."
With nothing else to do I laid down on the creaky bed and fell into an exhausted sleep.
Some time later I was subjected to someone poking me awake.
"Go away," I moaned, groggily.
But, the poking persisted and I eventually opened my eyes to blearily see Proxima staring down at me. With a face like hers it was impossible to tell if she was in a good or bad mood.
"We couldn't wake you yesterday. You've been through hell," she added, almost sounding sympathetic. "I brought you food. Eat it all."
She pointedly looked down at the tray she was holding. There was a jug of water, cup, small loaf of bread, and a bowl of steaming vegetable soup with a spoon. I was so hungry by then that even scraps would have made my mouth water.
As I shifted position in the bed I realised how strangely stiff and unwieldy my left arm felt. A hot prickle ran down my spine when I saw that there was a tight bandage wrapped around it. And that wasn't the worst of it. As I sat up I looked down and saw that I was no longer wearing my own clothes, but had been changed into a shapeless white shirt and baggy grey trousers, that left me with a strong taste of porridge in my mouth. I pressed my fingers to my cheek and found that skin no longer dirty to touch. The layers of dirt and sweat had been washed away. My breath caught in my throat loud enough for Midnight to hear it.
"It's okay," she said, flatly, placing the tray on my lap.
It wasn't okay. I had been undressed, redressed, washed, and administered first aid in my sleep and been completely unaware of it. What had they done to me?
My stomach gurgled loudly.
"Eat," Midnight ordered. "Drink."
Once I was started I couldn't stop. I've never gone for so long without food or water. The colour was surprisingly good. I hadn't mentioned this before but I hadn't eaten much before falling off the Bifrost. Hardly in the mood.
"You do talk in your sleep."
I almost froze up. Almost. The need to stuff my face overrode my fear.
"What about?" I asked, tearing off a chunk of bread.
Midnight shrugged. "A strange word I do not know the meaning of. Faw, I think?"
"Only my lucky number."
"And you cried."
I snorted so hard that I sprayed bread crumbs everywhere. "I did not!"
Midnight smiled in a way that told me that she didn't believe me.
After I had drained the jug and consumed every last crumb, Midnight pushed me back down against the pillow.
"Sleep," she commanded. "It's what you need. Mind and body must heal at the same time."
After what had happened last time, sleeping was the last thing I wanted to do, but annoyingly Midnight stayed in the room. She stood over me, arms folded, and telling me off every time I opened my eyes. It hardly created a restful atmosphere, but she made clear that she was not going to leave. For a long while I pretended to be asleep, hoping that she would then go away, but I could always hear her breathing. Eventually, I dosed off for real. I don't know how long I slept for.
*Cú Chulainn is a very important character in Irish mythology, like Hercules. He died by broken geise. Sort of. One of his geise forbade him to eat dog meat. However, it is also taboo to refuse hospitality, so when an old woman offered him a meal of dog meat, he didn't have much choice but to eat it. Breaking his geise made him weaker in a sense and he was soon killed in battle.
But, the most interesting thing about this guy is that essentially he is the original Hulk. He would under go a terrifying battle frenzy known as a riastrad – translated as warp spasm – where it is said he would turn into a horrifying monster and unable to tell friend from foe.