Your name is Maite Hirsch and everything hurts.
You're not quite sure why that is, but you faintly remember pleading with the Infinity Stones, so... You can guess.
...where are you? Looking around, you don't actually recognize your surroundings. ...for once.
It's some manner of deep gold room, so it's likely on Asgard, but... Where? And perhaps more importantly, when? -oh, nevermind, it's 2012. Thanks, newfound temporal senses.
A bit disoriented, you sit up, noting a healing field around you sizzle out.
Then you're a bit preoccupied with your hair.
It's longer, for one. It's... faintly shimmering in the colours of the rainbow.
You have a very bad feeling about this.
You are extremely fortunate Father wasn't here to witness your arrival, comes a female voice.
You rear around to come to face to face with Gamora.
Okay, not Asgard.
This is worse, actually.
Hello there, green lady, you raise a hand in greeting before it abruptly wanders to your temple because ow. That is one hell of a migraine.
Gamora raises a sardonic eyebrow. She asks if you're aware where exactly you are.
Unfortunately, yes. Yes, you very much are.
"This is Thanos' ship, isn't it? The big purple prune looking for the Infinity Stones?"
This time, Thanos' adoptive daughter looks almost amused before she catches herself. Then she confirms your suspicions- this is the Sanctuary.
Fuck.
So where's your Dad? You ask, because you may not be as screwed as you think depending on what he's doing right now.
She tells you he's watching over a prisoner's meager attempt at an invasion. ...right, 2012.
Loki, you curse softly. Gamora rears up, alarmed. She demands to know how you know that.
You simply tell her it's a long story and leave it at that. She doesn't look very satisfied with the answer, but relents after you shoot her a particularly nasty glare. (It probably has something to do with the fact that your hair is floating.)
That's about when you notice something- you've had five consecutive jumps without arriving home, now...
The Amulet hums an apology against your collarbone.
I- I'm not...? You shakily breath out. Another hummed apology, and without much preamble, tears are running down your cheeks.
Gamora is staring, very confused.
You try to compose yourself before explaining what exactly has you so unbalanced- it seems you won't be going home to Kamar-Taj for quite some time.
Your name is Maite Hirsch and you are effectively homeless.
A/N: Oops.
