VIDEO; UN:ODINSON

[deemed]

So we are to fight. [Odinson is freshly bathed, his hair tied back in a knot. There's a new light in his eyes at the promise of this. Killing robots is a task well-suited to him. This he can do.]

Being newly-come to this group, I know few of you, and few of you know me. I would know the skills and knowledge of those I will fight alongside. Or die alongside, if this enemy is truly so formidable. [The half-smile that follows indicates he doesn't quite believe that's a possibility.]

Myself, I am Odinson, of Asgardia, God of Thunder. [There's the slightest hesitation there, for anyone who'll notice such a thing. Something unsaid.] I have fought across the nine realms of my universe, and will fight here with hammer or blade or my fists until the enemy is routed or I am slain. If any wish to spar or learn to fight in the days before we are summoned to Oska, you have only to call on me.

Likewise, any tacticians or those with knowledge of Oska or the enemy, share your knowledge. We ought have some plan before we are shipped back. [Is that sarcasm???]

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[mistruths]

[ He's about to respond when he frowns, sighs. It's true, after all, even of his own Thor--though Thor knows him not very well at all. He envies Loki for this, though he's careful not dwell on it. ]

Should I congratulate you?

[deemed]

A Loki-ish response if ever I heard one. [Sarcastic, more than a little cutting, and giving nothing away.]

Congratulate me when I learn how to deal with him.

[mistruths]

Will you ever?

[ He hums, tapping a finger against his lip. ]

Will you tell me of Loki? Your thoughts and memories, your joys and regrets.

[deemed]

Have you not been here long enough to form your own impressions of him?

[mistruths]

Of a sort. We do not talk much.

[deemed]

There is a surprise. [His smile indicates it is not actually a surprise. Loki is like a cat, and he can imagine the two Lokis circling each other, attempting to act completely unphased by the other.]

[mistruths]

Which is not to say we don't talk at all.

[deemed]

I can imagine it. You will both spend hours speaking nothing but riddles and empty nothings to each other in a pleasant manner while involving nothing of substance at all.

[mistruths]

We spoke of you.

[deemed]

[The smile fades-] And did you decide which had the worst brother?

[mistruths]

[ well done, that wiped the smile off his own face. ]

We spoke of you, not of Thor.

[deemed]

Even better. [His face is a dark scowl now.] What did you learn?

[mistruths]

[ S H R U G ]

Not terribly much, unfortunately.

[deemed]

So... you spent hours speaking nothing but riddles and empty nothings to each other in a pleasant manner while involving nothing of substance at all.

[mistruths]

How often do you speak with Loki, really.

[deemed]

More often than you.

[mistruths]

[ There's a brief pause, and then he shrugs. ]

It's likely.

[deemed]

[It's like talking to a cat. An impossible, cryptic cat.

So let's change the subject.] Your brother and I would get on better, I think.

[mistruths]

[ TRUST ME HE THOUGHT OF THAT ]

Do you think he'll come? That would be a sight.

[deemed]

Aye. Thor always is.

[He can't quite keep the bitterness out of his voice. That Thor would be worthy.]

[mistruths]

Though you do not count yourself alongside him. Tell me, Odinson... Do you not tire of being mired in your own self-pity?

[deemed]

[Hotly] What would you know- you who have never been worthy?

[mistruths]

How many of your friends have been worthy, then? Is it only those who can lift that silly hammer whose thoughts and opinions you value? This whole concept of worth you use to justify yourself is worthless.

[deemed]

[Odinson looks as though he might explode from rage-]

What right have we to the power and longevity we hold so lightly? What do we do with it? Across the worlds mortals pray to us with desperation, hoping for our aid and believing that we are better than we are! And how do we repay them?

With squabbles amongst ourselves, and self-interest! We turn a blind eye to their pain and suffering, telling ourselves that we cannot help them!

But not I! Not the Odinson! I will be worthy of them!
[There's the faintest distant roll of thunder.]

[mistruths]

[ Briefly, he purses his lips, and then tilts his head slightly as he asks: ]

What would make you worthy? Odin cares so little for the mortals that I cannot see Mjolnir caring whether you do right by them are not. The mortals fight and die amongst themselves in droves, and that never stopped you from being worthy before. So... Would you consider yourself worthy, acceptable, if you were able to help? Even if you might never again wield Mjolnir?