Logs:Unexpected

Unexpected
Dramatis Personae Fury, Lucien, Thor Odinson?
In Absentia	2024-05-14 "I fear both our worlds may be in grave danger." (shortly after abduction, part of avengers, assemble! plot)
Location <???> - ???
It's hard to say, really, if the alien had taken the men to its leader. It had certainly taken them -- somewhere. Through more squishy and oozing halls, past several more of its type, to a different wet and fetid cavern teeming disconcertingly with the giant insectoid creatures. Perhaps some of the insects look slightly different from the others. Perhaps one is more important. The chittering conversation that presses in at their minds (still terrified) (still furious) grows louder, but no more intelligible, a ravening cacophony that might be directed to the unwilling visitors or, simply, past them. And then, somewhere in the middle of it, one thoughtfeel comes through, not in words but in a sharper, clearer understanding that nearly thrums with its rage: << (wrong one) >> The creatures and their noxious ship both vanish. It's as unpleasant a journey as the last had been; twisting, disorienting, a crushing pressure. Coming out the other side, though, is a stark contrast to their last surroundings. They're in a room -- spacious and clean and comfortably-appointed. A sleeping area, a sitting area; through a half-ajar door at the back a small bathroom. The man seated at the desk in here looks very much like he has simply stepped wholesale out of the pages of mythology -- large and strapping with flowing blonde hair and strange armor that manages to seem equal parts ancient and quite futuristic. A red cape is pinned to his armor, swept back over muscular bare shoulders. The effect is slightly ruined by the juice pouch in his hand -- Capri-Sun Fairy Drink, it says, complete with a glittering pink fairy riding a rainbow-horned unicorn through a field of fresh fruits. The man is on his feet in a moment, brandishing the juice pouch very much like he is used to having a weapon that is no longer at hand. "You make a dire mistake if you think --" comes first, in a booming strong voice, but then he is frowning. Lowering the pouch. Looking over the newcomers. "You humans are different." Still deep, but a little less booming. To Fury's credit, he does not draw his gun on the man threatening him with a sparkly drink pouch. To be fair, he never actually put his gun away, little good though it would have likely done him in the previous leg of their abduction. But he raises his empty hand, the one holding the gun loose and relaxed at his side. "Different from who?" he asks, not too imperiously. Just imperious enough to cover how out of sorts he probably is. "I apologize if we're intruding, but we were sent here against our will. Can you tell me where we are?" Lucien is still exceedingly tense, when he arrives, taking a few moments to breath (and then breathe deeper when the air does not immediately offend his senses.) He glances down at his glass, brief and resigned when it is still empty. His eyes gravitate immediately toward the bathroom and it's with some visible effort that he does not simply head there -- instead he's looking only brief at the man and his Bag Juice and far more intently at the rest of the room. He drifts slow toward one wall -- the only one with a semblance of anything like a window on it, though the apparent expansive view of the ocean proves not window but screen. He's peering up quite close at the glass, tapping a finger thoughtfully against it. "I do believe we may not be the only ones who were." The large blond man is still regarding the pair steadily. He doesn't seem frightened, or wary, but there's an alert curiosity in his eyes. He tracks Lucien's path toward the wall, but is soon enough looking back at Fury. "Would that I could." He is moving toward the wall, too -- not too close to Lucien. Not too far. "Far too many moons have I been locked in this cage and far too many moons have my captors kept me --" He's looking at the fake-sunny day on the fake-rippling sea. "-- in the dark. Who sent you?" Fury is probably just frowning while trying not to look displeased, but between the scarring on his face and his habitual look of displeasure, the expression just comes out crooked and vaguely silly. "I reckon this might sound a bit crazy, but it was a whole lot of giant bug-like beings, probably not of this world. I'd ask if you had the same experience, but it sounds like your captors are human." He looks around. "And also managed to whip up a prison cell that ain't made of meat, though it's still not what I'd expect of a prison. It's probably high time I get used to the unexpected." His eye lands back on their unwilling host. "What's your name, good sir?" At talk of their respective captors, Lucien is glancing away from the screen and toward the Capri-Sun Fairy Drink, a very faint glimmer of amusement crinkling at his eyes. It's short-lived; he's soon back to making an absent circuit of the room. Likely his careful inspection of the walls, the comfortable furniture, is not giving him much additional information about their whereabouts, but it does put him slightly more at ease than when he was standing still. "Have you any idea why they are keeping you here?" The man does not look much like giant bug-like beings surprises or phases him, but it's made of meat that pulls his attention, slightly wider-eyed with an inkling of fear. The fear soon passes into a renewed assessment of the other two men, a careful scrutiny that eases his posture and expression with something approaching a respect. "You mortals have faced The Brood and lived to tell of it?" Something about the resonance in his rich voice makes The Capitalization almost audible. "If our captors are in league with those savage parasites..." He does not finish this thought, but the troubled expression that crosses his face in the pause finishes it well enough for him. "Why do your kind do anything, now." For a moment he is looking balefully at the screen and its serene "ocean" view. His voice doesn't carry any of that hate, though, when he addresses his co-captives; just a bleak exhaustion. "What your ancestors called magic, you now call technology. In my home, these are one and the same. These -- scientists --" He says the word a little distastefully, "-- had a glimpse of feats yet unheard of in your realm." He gives a small huff; maybe amused, maybe just tired. "The first time my people visited this planet we were called gods and venerated for the boons we brought. Such a short time later and profit is the biggest blessing of all." "The Brood," Fury echoes, stroking his beard in thought. "Now I can imagine all kinds of reasons your captors might want their organic technology of theirs, especially if they have an actual teleportation device -- however squishy it may be." After taking "mortals" and "magic" in stride, it's definitely a near thing he manages not to do an obvious double-take at "visited this planet". His eye cuts to Lucien and then back, looking the stranger over again as if looking for some sign he's not human. "I'm not real familiar with the gods of our ancestors, but it's a good bet your people aren't too fond of The Brood, either. What realm do you hail from, Lord...?" Lucien's circulating has wandered as far as the bathroom, which he is now peering inside with a vague relief at how normal and clean it is. He turns quickly, somewhere in the strange man's words, to study the other blond long and thoughtful. One of his hands has crossed over his chest, the other lifting to rub slow against his cheek. "The first time --" His eyes are a bit wider than before, but his voice is calm, just a small oh, huh cadence like something is clicking into place. What place it is, exactly, he doesn't say. "-- You've had quarrel with the bugs before, then?" Against the crook of his arm, his fingers are pressing down a touch harder. "Had I known we would be embroiled in interstellar hostilities before the day's end I would have been sure to keep my overnight bag well at hand." He is slipping into the bathroom, now, if only to finally, thoroughly, scrub the lingering traces of that Organic Technology off his hands. "Please tell me these captors provide toothbrushes." "The bugs have quarrel with every race they have yet encountered, in every galaxy. Their technology is great, yes, but their hunger is greater. They have visited many worlds and left each nothing but a carrion pit for their young to spawn in. If these half-wit children seek to deal with them --" The man's hand is clenching, his voice growing more tense, and it is only at the first crinkle of the juice bag still in his hand that he looks down and catches himself with a sharp breath. "Forgive me, I have grown unused to such company and my manners are not what they should be. My magic can not break the field they have erected around this prison, but I can, at least, be a more gracious host." When he unfurls his fist the juice bag is gone -- in his palm instead is an unopened box of toothpaste and a two-pack of toothbrushes (Colgate Extra Clean™). "In Asgard I am called Thor Odinson, and if indeed the Brood has sent you here, I fear both our worlds may be in grave danger." Fury blinks a few times. "I suppose if someone is dealing with them, they might hold off on making Earth a carrion pit just yet. Not particularly reassuring, but I take what I can get." If he's terrified he's hiding it well, or maybe he has gotten used to the unexpected. "You've been more than gracious already, considering our manners, not to mention your circumstances." He slowly opens the flap of his duster wide enough for the holster inside to be visible, and also slowly returns the gun to its proper place. "I don't have any magic, but I do have a few tricks up my sleeve yet. Might be we can get out of here if we work together." He finally approaches Thor and accepts the (magically conjured) hygiene products. "Speaking of manners, my name is Nick Fury. On behalf of humanity, I'd like to apologize for the disgraceful treatment you've received here." He offers his hand to shake. "Welcome back to Earth, Thor Odinson."