INVERSION
Chapter 1: Game On
A brisk wind cuts through her long sleeves as she approaches the top of the cliff. Despite the late afternoon sun beating down on the exposed rock and grasses, the frigid ocean waters surrounding their village send constant icy reminders of their proximity to the northernmost climes of Midgard. She no longer shivers-not after surviving hundreds of winters of such winds, sometimes as cold as the Jotunheim plains.
Without a home of their own, the Aesir forged their own small existence on the alien soils of Midgard for over a thousand years. In Tønsberg, Norway, they kept to themselves, feigned Midgardian existences, and maintained their isolation from the constant change and turmoil of the turbulent Midgardian populations around them.
It hasn't been easy. Their king vanished from this very cliff top, captured by strong sorcery and bound to the inescapable realm of Helheim. Their queen, taken prisoner by Dark Elves, has not been heard from in nearly a millennium and there are little hopes she still lives. Their hope, for a time, lay with their princes, but even that hope slowly faded over the long years scraping together their life in this small Aesir colony. One prince, not long after the king's loss, vanished mysteriously during a dark winter's night without a trace.
Their last prince, their remaining heir and the one bearing the leadership of this struggling people, abandoned the colony. For five hundred years, he left his people to their fate and went to travel the cosmos and "find himself" and "be himself". While the rightful king went on his lengthy journey of self-realization, Valkyrie worked. Tirelessly, thanklessly, through winter, summer, spring, and autumn, and till her hands were coarse with callouses and her body ached with the hard labor. She sought to give the scattered, disheartened gaggle of Aesir hope and purpose-a reason to keep going for another hundred years-but she has grown so tired.
If discovered, Midgard, in their fear of those from other realms, will reject them. Thus, they cannot truly thrive or grow themselves to their full capacity. However, that leaves them fully in danger of stagnation.
At least, she thought they were when she awoke this morning. Then she saw the copper glint of the starship landing on the cliff top above their little Norwegian town. She leaves her fishing nets on the rough wooden dock and marches with determination up the narrow trail leading to the table-like peak overlooking the turquoise waves of the Norwegian Sea.
She lifts her hand to shield her eyes from the glint of the sun off the cockpit windows. Sure enough, it is the Benatar. She momentarily wishes she had scuttled the blasted ship the first time she laid eyes on it. She rolls her eyes and slows her pace.
"Move it or lose it, hairbag," shouts an oversized raccoon standing on two legs near the front of the ship. He points a weapon towards the object of his words-a man walking her direction. Blond dreadlocks hang in thick rows down his broad, hefty chest. His unkempt beard falls in quagmired disarray over his grey sweater and ample belly. He turns over his shoulder and gives a wave of his partially gloved hand to the figures crowding into the cockpit windows.
"Rabbit, Tree, Quail, my friends, it is time to bid farewell and I wish you safe travels as we pursue our destinies on separate paths," he says.
"Stay off my ship," shouts back the raccoon. He throws a bag and an oversized battle ax out the door onto the grass, and then slams the door of the ship. The ship moves off into the atmosphere with a bright flash of light and then it vanishes. The man watches the ship as it flies away. He pauses to put a pair of dark sunglasses over his mismatched eyes. He silently gazes out over the sun-grazed caps of the breakers hundreds of feet below him. She inhales deeply and tries to gather her thoughts before she reaches him.
"You're back," she says with a dispassionate eye roll. This close to him, she can hardly miss the fumes of alcohol wafting from every inch of him. She turns to face the horizon instead of him and crosses her arms across her chest.
"About that," he says. His eyes are hidden behind dark glasses, searching the distant waves and wind. He pulls his jacket closer around himself and runs his fingers through his beard until he finds some crumbs and picks them out. She wrinkles her nose and decides she will need to be the one to carry the conversation farther.
"Thor, your people needed a king."
"They had one, your Majesty," he says, with a mock bow in her direction.
"That's funny," she scoffs and then her face falls as she notices he doesn't join her in jests. "You're being serious?"
"You've been a leader. You've been reliable and led our people admirably."
"Why are you here?" she says, brushing off his comment and fixing him with a keen, dark-eyed gaze.
"I'm not sure," he replies. "For the first time in a thousand years, I…I am facing the path I am supposed to. I've wandered the universe trying to figure out who I am rather than facing who I am supposed to be."
"Thor-you left us here and took off with those-what did you call them? That rabble of losers you chose over your people and your duty?"
"Yes. I pursued my destiny as one of the As-Guardians of the Galaxy. We traveled the cosmos and accomplished many great feats during out time together, but now that time has come to an end," he says, slightly wistful resignation in his tone.
"You've got to be kidding me," she says under her breath. "Fine. Come on, then, your Majesty," she says, her voice now dripping with sarcasm.
He gives Valkyrie a crooked grin, nearly hidden by his beard, and he turns to follow her down the narrow pathway. His footing totters down the uneven, rocky path and she is not sure if it is due to lack of athletic exertion or overindulgence in drink. All eyes turn to stare at them as they near Tønsberg. Valkyrie attempts to maintain a stoic expression, but the slight tightness around her eyes hints at her irritation.
The small, scattered village is made of simple buildings constructed of planks of weathered wood and stone walls. Aesir villagers clothed in Midgardian peasant clothes meander around them. They carry their fishing nets, boxes of goods, and the tools required for their daily work. Their faces are worn with long years of heavy hearts and even heavier workloads.
She leads him to one of the larger homes on the tallest outcropping of the hilly village. He recognizes it as the former home of the royal family, from days he has fought long and hard not to remember. He takes another swing from a canteen he carries in his pocket. The green door bangs loudly against the stone wall of the home as she throws it open.
"You slugs have a roommate," she says and turns to leave without another word, slamming the door again behind her.
Two creatures turn to stare at him. One, resembling an oversized caterpillar, turns all its short limbs in the direction of their newcomer, his mouth full of pepperoni pizza. The other, a living pile of grey rocks clothed in a Hawaiian shirt, waves and brightens into a friendly, stony grin.
"Hey, man!" the latter creature says. "Over here. The pile of rocks waiving at you. Yeah, I'm actually a thing. I'm a being. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Korg. I'm kind of like the leader in here. Well, I'm the leader on this couch at least. I choose the best toppings for pizza on a daily basis. I'm made of rocks, as you can see, but don't let that intimidate you. You don't need to be afraid unless you're made of scissors," he says and chuckles to himself. "Just a little rock-paper-scissor joke for you. This is my very good friend over here, Miek. He's an insect and has knives for hands."
Miek wiggles in response, and his lower limbs accidentally upends a bowl of chips all over the floor. Thor waves in greeting.
"You're a Kronan aren't you?" Thor asks.
"I am. Here, man, you are welcome," Korg says and scoots over on the well-worn couch to make more space. "We've got pizza, beer, and super fast Wi-fi."
He hands Thor a PlayStation controller. Thor gives a heavy grunt as he collapses onto the couch and sinks low into the battered foam. Storm-breaker makes a resounding clank as he drops it onto the trash-strewn floor at his feet. He takes a piece of pizza and swallows it with one bite. He slugs back a beer just as quickly, and lets out a grin over his beer-froth covered beard.
"What's your name, man?" Korg asks.
"Thor, God of Thunder," he responds. "I have come to reclaim my throne and regain my position as leader of this mighty race of warriors."
"Nice to meet you. We've heard stories of you from some of the others but didn't know we'd get the chance to meet you in the flesh. They all said you wouldn't come back-but here you are-so it just goes to show you not to believe everything you here. You must not be as much of a loser as they all said you were. Now, God of Thunder, how would you like to play some Fortnite?"
Thor stares hard at the screen and wrinkles his forehead. He pushes one button and stares transfixed as an explosion spreads across the screen.
ooooooooooooo
Five Years Later
Valkyrie's net has another tear. She throws it down on the deck with a groan and her temper flares. She gives the useless pile of old ropes a kick with her boot and curses at it. It's going to be another of those days. The shipment of beer is late again and their mighty king throws a temper tantrum whenever that happens. The last time, three roofs burned down from the lightning of his rampage.
She gathered the community to fix the roofs as soon as she could.
Cause that's what she does. She fixes things. She holds them all together, even when she'd much rather not. Like today. Today, she'd like to tell their interim king exactly where he can send his lightning and his unquenchable thirst and then she'd like to go sit on a couch of her own and not move for the next month.
She gives the nets another firm kick, but her old, well-worn boots crumble at the strength of impact and she curses again to see her toes protruding from a fresh hole.
An old pickup truck rumbles down the dirt road towards their village. It halts near the docks, where most of the trucks usually stop, but instead of unloading other Aesir, a raccoon and a very large, very green man emerge.
She curses again.
"You shouldn't have come!" she says as they walk towards her.
"Ah, Valkyrie! Great to see you," he says.
"This is Rocket."
"How you doin'?" the raccoon says with a cocky smirk on his furry face.
"He won't see you," she says, all the while wishing he would. Wishing they would succeed in pulling him away from their village and leaving her with one less responsibility.
"That bad, huh?" Bruce responds.
"We only see him once a month, when he comes for supplies," she says and looks over her shoulder to a pile of empty kegs.
"It's that bad."
"Yeah."
"We had to try again," Bruce says. "We need all the help we can get. If we can't get you back to help, we'll take him."
"Good luck," she says with ample sarcasm. She brings them the rest of the way towards the large home of their "king".
Rocket enters the house first and grimaces at the smell.
"What the... Woo! Something died in here."
"Hello? Thor?"
From behind the walkway, they hear the deep voice of the Thor.
"Are you here about the cable?" he asks and comes to meet them wearing only his pajama pants. "The Cinemax ran out about two weeks ago, and the sports were all kind of fuzzy."
"Thor?" Bruce says again and gives a questioning glance towards Rocket as Thor opens another beer. Thor pauses to look at his guests for the first time-really looks at them. His face breaks into a crooked grin.
"BOYS! Oh my God! It's so to see you! Come here, you little rascal!" he says and tries to embrace them both.
"No, I'm good. I'm good. That's not necessary," Rocket says, neatly dodging Thor's large arm.
"You know my friends, Miek, Korg, right?" Thor says and gestures towards his two companions on the couch, each with a PlayStation controller in hand and sharing a bowl of chips between them.
"Hey boys!" Korg says and waves from the couch.
"Hey guys, long time no see," Bruce Banner says as he walks into the room. "It's been at least two weeks since we came to talk to you last."
"Beer's on the bucket. Feel free to log on to the Wi-Fi. No password, obviously," Korg says, his attention fully on the screen in front of him. "Thor, he's back. The kid on the TV that called me a dickhead again."
"Noobmaster."
"Yeah, Noobmaster69 called me a dickhead."
Thor walks over to Korg, takes his headphones, and speaks into the microphone in anger.
"Noobmaster? Yeah, it's Thor again. You know, the God of Thunder? Listen, buddy. If you don't log off this game immediately, I am gonna fly over to your house, come down to that basement you're hiding in, rip off your arms and shove them up your butt! Oh, that's right. Yes, go cry to your father, you little weasel!"
Thor brings his headphones back to Korg, who places them back on his head.
"Thank you, Thor."
"Let me know if he bothers you again, okay?"
"Thank you very much. I will."
"So you guys want a drink? What are you drinking? We have beer, tequila, all sorts of things," Thor asks as he scratches circles on his exposed belly. Rocket and Bruce both shake their heads. Thor shrugs and uses his battle ax to open another bottle of beer and starts drinking. Bruce walks to him and places a hand on his shoulder.
"So, what's up?" Thor asks.
"We need your help. Earth has a problem," Bruce says.
"What, like the cable? Cause that's been driving me bananas for weeks," Thor says, punctuating his statement with a series of loud belches.
"No. A bit bigger than that. You see, there's this guy that we've been trying to track down for awhile. He's got a lot of, well, let's just call them fancy rocks that can be used as tools or weapons. We are putting together a team….like I told you last time."
"Yes," Thor says, closing his one good eye and staring at them through his discolored eye. "I sort of remember you mentioning that. You've come so many times I can't remember. I thought you wanted Valkyrie."
"You refused to let us take her. Now we are asking you. You can still cause lightning?" Bruce asks, leaning down to stare into Thor's eyes, his heavy green hand on Thor's bare shoulder.
"Of course. I am Thor, God of Thunder," he answered, stretching out his arms and letting small sparks gather on his fingertips. He burped again and let the sparks go.
"It's better than nothing," Rocket says with a shrug.
"What makes you think I would go with you again, Rabbit? You cast me off your ship in dishonor during our last parting."
"You drank all our booze and you were annoying," Rocket says.
Thor stares at Rocket, craning his neck down to attempt to intimidate. Rocket proves unmoved. He stares at his paw and gives a nonchalant shrug. "There'll be beer on the ship."
Thor gives the raccoon another one eyed stare.
"What kind?"
oooooooooooooooooooooooo
Author's Note: This story idea has been rolling around in my head for a few weeks. While I am shamelessly pulling dialogue straight from the script of various movies, I am also not going to follow all the movie plots exactly (cause it would be weird to bring people back from the dead all the time -except Loki in like every movie-and it really wouldn't work to just press 'rewind'). I'll warn you ahead of time, I'm skipping over the majority of Endgame except for the parts I find useful (which will be very little).
If you have ideas or suggestions, bring them!
