Step into Asgard

This is not a love story. But, if you want to find one in this story then go right ahead. This is about a girl who gets transported to Asgard and begins an adventure that is big. One question still bugs her from the Thor end credit scene and...she'll meet Loki. Still confused? Then read it.

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22. Switched Roles: Jokes

 

 Turns out his name is Bruce Banner. It has been years since I watched the Hulk movies. I do know for a fact that Phil Coulson did not die, technically. Why? Because he's in the mother trucking trailer with  'Don't touch Lola'. I wonder how Lehim is doing; he must be getting in some sword fight practice with some Asgardian boy. Maybe Lehim is wrestling with his sister .  .  .

 "I got the ship flying again."' Tony brags, while turning on his metal glove arm.

Did he acually say frying? As in frying a potato into a french fry? He couldn't have fried the ship!

"Frying?" I ask,looking over my shoulder.

There's a big window that shows the flying, giant space craft.  I swear, I can't be cooking into a french fry! So I turn my attention back to Tony, who is in his Ironman suit that's got some repaired dents and damage from the perpeller's blades brushing up against him. I had actually observed him doing it, and all that I got from him was 'Bug Captian America over there, stop watching me like a fly'. Can't blame him for acting this way because wouldn't you say the same thing?

"I said flying." Tony said, looking at me strangely.

I sigh. At least being a worry-wart jumps me into random conclusions that are not real.

 "You must have a hearing problem." Tony said,turning on his red and yellow helmet.

  "What do your friends call you by?"  Oh yeah, that's Natasha whats-her-last-name.

 "Um  .  .  ." I paused. What was it that Callie called me outside the bathroom? It started with an "I" and is a word that I accidently pronounce as Iwish. Oh yeaaah!  "Irish girl."

 "That's your nickname?" Natasha asks, tilting her head and her eyes are easy to convey that she's confused.

 "Um  yeah." I said, with a grin. Good day to be queen obvious! "I sound Iwish, don't ya tink?"'

Natasha folds her arms.

 "You are doing a stereotypical version of Irish that actually sounds better than a fake one."

"Well thank ya." I said, and, so pretty much blushed. I wonder if Natasha knew  what she said.

Natasha and I are having this conversation in this huge helicopter like tank; and do ya know that  submarine can become a mother trucking flying air craft with huge perpellers shaped like wheels that have blades sending gusts of air against the ridges and rims that need ta be repaired? The repaired part is actually a current problem of the ship.

"I wasn't complimenting your cheap accent."

"Sounds like ya were to me." I said with a shrug.

~                                                    ~

                              .  .  .  Earth 616   .  .  .

                              .  .  .  . Hospital room.  .  4:35 PM . .  .

     Karlos sat in the chair beside Joy's bed. He is waiting for her to wake up. On his lap is a journal entry.The man looks as though he ad taken a quick shower recently. Karlos opens his journal to the mos recent page he had written in.  He had seen an actual alien last week, and, he was on board that ship. The aliens were strangely like the ones who a man (who used to have scar tissue from cancer) had talked about after re-appearing after several hours. The picture he drew of the aliens involved a lipless mouth, small eyes,a hook for the right hand and a blade for the  left hand, and the height is written very small but apparently the doodlle as six feet tall.

 "I should have told you what I saw." Karlos admits. "You've been here for like, three days." His hands bump together as he sighs. Karlos looks to the woman in her sleep like state. "Did you hear that Alice passed? Yeah, she did. A dude called ColtonGroove came by and offered to pay your medical bills."

Karlos takes out a slip of paper from his left jean pocket.

"Jeee, I didn't know you were a youtube sansation until yesterday!" Karlos continues, unfolding the paper from it's napkin shape. "You were the backup singer for a band, and man, it makes you a bit mysterious not telling us. Anyway, Colton's paying the bills. Callie told me talking to you would be therapy-like."

Karlos rubs his hands together, looking down to the words on the paper printed in bold that read 'choice of payment'.

"Then this blue woman--no really a blue woman!--with red hair asked me about the guy we accidentally caught in the net." Karlos continues. "I haven't seen him since,like, ages ago."

We can hear the beeps on the medical equipment showing Joy's steady heartbeat.

"It was odd." Karlos admits. "Just an average UFO chaser and then this happens.One moment this lady was a girl and then the next time I blinked she was me."

Karlos laughs a little, wiping a tear off his eye.

"And you know what, Irish girl, I fainted." Karlos said, amused by his own story. "When I woke up; the strange woman was gone." Karlos continues on. "But .  .  . That was last night." There's a bag under the chair that has his clothes. "I kind of snuck into the hospital, yeah it's illegal all right. It was for a good reason!" 

Karlos then leans back in the chair laughing at himself.

"Don't need to go all 'You do realize it will go on your record' on me,Irish girl." Karlos adds. "Nobody knew I came ere except for that magestically blue alien-like lady." Karlos looks over his shoulder."No. I will not eat this," He shoook his head. "I'm not going to eat  it."

Karlos looks away from the box of chocolate.

"I haven't seen John in ,like, two days." Karlos sounds worried, even his eyes could paint a man who hated chocolate. "But  .  . . Callie and I went out last night, We were hunting for aliens not going out on a date. Wanna know what we saw? We saw an alien." His eyes twinkled. "I got to shake the hook of a living alien from outer space!"

Karlos slid the box of chocolate way a bit further as he spoke. The box of chocolate eventually fell into the trash can.

"John's been looking for a journal, or at least what's what he's claimed." Karlos said, taking a pepsi can out his bag. He opens it using the key shaped metal that had been lain flat.  "But, it feels like he's looking for his man diary.  Why would you start researching birds and their habitats after a bird stole your 'journal'?"

We can see outside the room people going by, also the high pitch sounds a busy hospital would usually stir a sense of dread and creepy chill under a persons skin. Karlos took a sip from the pepsi, and then he gets disgusted by pepsi.He then pulled up the tough, blue  window.The refreshing air brought in a wind that felt hit his face with unbelieveable heat. And then, unlike ordinary (and average people) Karlos threw it out the window.

Bee-weeeeeoo--rr-rroorr

"My bad." Karlos mutters to himself, turning away from the window. He pulls the window down a little bit  but not enough to completely close it. "Yes Joy, men do have man-diaries, and, pink is a fabulous color." He flicks the barely lighted lamp, causing it to shut off."I might be the teaser of the group, and, the most believe able one who goes after lights in the dark thinking they are UFO's . . ."

He pats on the rail up beside Joy.

 "You better wake up,Irish girl. The Doctor's say your wound is already healed . . ."  Karlos gets up from the chair and leaves the room.

 Callie came in shortly there after; her nails were highlighted pink, she had on black glasses, and surprisingly looks good enough to be in hollywood where the Papparzi could snap pictures of her at ever coner.The dark glasses slid down revealing her face is red from crying. She approaches tehe silent bed.Callie's hands are trembling. Last night was wild and unbelive-able;meeting their first alien near a drive-thru. She grabs on to the railing feeling shaky and mixed emotions still going through.

 "You are not alone." Callie said, in a low voice. "I hope you remember all of us, Joy."

Callie sits down into the chair, her concern primary on Joy. Just a couple hours she had with Joy's sleep-like body before visiting time was over  .  .  .

 ~                                                                         ~

   . . .Unknown location . .  .

  .  .   7:34 PM . . .

John went into a abandoned building holding a bird net in one hand. He had been tracking the bird for a awhile and he did not want to purchase another journal.All his secrets were on that large journal. All the words he shared with Alice; all the words he wouldn't be able to recite without looking down to the paper. He couldn't start over with a new slate. John had no reason to buy another one unless he was going to start a new life.

A cat yowled, and John turns the bright light beam of the flashlight towards the left.

"Damel it." John said, rollling his eye. He relaxes a little and the tense gathering up in his back settles back to relief. "It was only a cat, Wayle."

John steps on a bottle cap, hearing it clink under his boot. He had been on ,the bird's blaring path for quite some time trying to shoot it down (and missing) using a toy gun. The bird usually had the journal in it's talons each time he saw it in the morning. Sometimes chasing after the bird lead him through crime scenes, a bycyle race, and kids drawing on the sidewalk using chalk. It wasn't  his fault, John would claim, it was the damel hawks fault.

This morning, John had a run through with a cop after going through a crime scene.

"Name?" A cop asks, holding a pen and notepad. He clicked the back end of the pen two times.

 "John," John said. "John Bruce Wayle."

"Wayle?" The cop raised a brow at him. "Like Doyle or Dayle? I know some one with one of those names; do you come from Finland or something?"

John sighed at the cop's little problem  and his own terrible accent.

"No it's al  'n'." John told him.

"John Bruce Wayne." The cop repeats, amused. "Sure you are not related to John Wayne?"

The idea was delightful but not ideal to go into acting for John.

"I'm lot  al actor." John insisted. "I failed actilg class."

"You failed acting class, bro?" The cop asks, jotting down 'Has a stage name, is an impulsive liar, and meddles with evidence thanks to a lunatic illusion'.  Not a cop had paid attention to what John was chasing after.

"Yes, I did." John said, ashamed as he rubs his temples.

Searching in the dark was partially a problem and not a problem despite the flashlights ultra-handy-brightness.It was seven and it is already dark, how great that is for a UFO chaser. He could see the faint outline of a man.The figure became lost in the darkness.The flashlight landed on the flying crow that has a pink journal in it's talon. John's rage had built up over the time so he  lunged for the hawk with  the birds net. The hawk flew through a door missing the net by a graze.

 "Damel that lasty bird!" John said with frusttration building up.

John drops the net and runs in through the loose  broken doors. Light blinded his eyes like a stinging bee put behind a shiny object that attracted viewers attention. John drops the flashlight as he took  a few steps back.It was so bright than the morning sun exposed to him in outerspace at first. He heard a femilar chukcle.

 "You mean nasty." Loki corrects him. "Such  asurdeious letter replacement."

John blinks, his eyee adjusted to see Loki.

"You!" John points at him.

Behind Loki is  a large portal with dark clouds rolling out and a uneasy-unusual gust brushing out.

"You don't need to point at me."  Loki obvious said. "And you've got a problem with that mortal, lazy finger because  .  .  . how do mortals twist their fingers like that? Gods can do better than you ugly mortals."

 "How ugly am I?" John asks.

 "Very ugly." Loki said.

"Uglyer thal you." John said, in a way that sounded like he was proud of that. "What is that?"

"I've read your journal. Your poetry is actually better than most mortals on this untidy and unruled realm. That wasn't poetry? Writing that way to make it seem proper is impressive.After reading your diary I came to a decison: to say what you wanted to say  .  .  ."

 "-T-T-T-.. . "

"To the mortal you lost."

John is speechless.

 "I had to go visit a connection in Los Angeles." Loki said. "And pull a few strings."

"What .  .  . Kind of strings?" John asks.

Loki's look easily portrayed a man with marvelous skill to backstab, lie, and exaggerate multiple things. One of which he might not be able to trust; but it sounded so good. To say what Alice wasn't able to hear in her preseance in a way.

"I know a immortal who knows a mortal who has lots favors with mortals who don't look human."

"You know lots of humans for a norse god."

"I didn't say the first one was mortal."

"It took you three days?"

"That favor had a catch with it."

The dusky, cloudy portal stood there.

"I could kiss you right now." John said.

"Consider yourself dead if you try. A god does not kiss a male mortal for a petty favor. " Loki said. "It's open for 10 minutes. You can't stay in there for eternity."

John smiles a little at Loki.

"Thalk you." John said, as he turns away from the Norse God.

Then he went into the portal.

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