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All that Peter got out of this was that Ky wanted him to break in somewhere and steal something. The man wouldn’t explain what it was he was going to retrieve or even why he wanted it in the first place. His questions were met with vague answers that got him no where and it was starting to wear on Peter. Now that his initial shock of having woken up in a strange place was wearing off, he was starting to take note of the surroundings, including how close Ky was to him.

“Look, if you don’t give me any kind of answers then I not only won’t help you, I’ll find a way to stop you.” Peter has the urge to cross his arms, but he doesn’t want to limit his movements. He knows the man hadn’t removed his web shooters, and the cartridges were still loaded into them.

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“Doubtful,” he said bluntly. “Older and no doubt… stronger have tried before.” However, he wasn’t going to say no to it – if Peter decided to fight him, than Ky would give him a show. It might have been a very short one, but all the same, it would have been a way just to prove that the other couldn’t beat him.“If you want answers – true answers, you’re going to have to start asking the proper questions.”

“Otherwise, we could be at this for weeks, and you’d still not be moving from this place. You may need to eat to survive, but I don’t.” Ky’s hands then clasped together for a few moments. “Now, what I truly need is a partner, but you’re too flashy for that – not to mention you’re not exactly my type.” A pause. “More importantly, you ask far too many questions when all I want from you is two words..’yes, sir’.”

fryordie:

Being disconnected from that damn mallet for so long had, to the blond, felt as though a limb was  missing– and not the one that he had already lost due to his own arrogance. It maddened him to think that the slightest shirking of faith, claimed by a revelation that saw him view for the first time the gods for what they really were and how they cared not for the trials and tribulations of mortals. 

“I will kill you, Ky’lar!” Three words were all it took to change the Odinson; and all he needed was five words to lash out at the other with, voice hoarse as the threat ripped from his throat. Shouting was the most he could do, now that everything else had been ripped away; and soon it would be what sees the will to keep fighting take flight from his chest.

Having provoked the other, he is awarded with another reunion with his hammer, which on its second trip collides against the blond’s chest, shattering ribs, before then sending him flying towards a rocky outcrop that collapses ontop of him upon colliding with it. As rocks rained down and piled on top of him, Ky would be met with disappointment, for, whilst not quite dead, the unworthy god had been rendered incapacitated by a combination of fatigue and the number of injuries he sustained.

And so, with nothing else to say on the subject of berating Ky for the fate the Norns had seen fit to weave for him, Odinson remains where he lays, blond hair distinguishable from the rumble by the streaks of divine ichor that sullied its colour. Each his arms, visible up to the elbow, jutted out of the pile at crooked angles, suggesting he’d met the ground face first. A suitable ending for a god who allowed bitterness and envy to fuel his obscene obsession, rather than take the chance to rise above such developments to try and become a better person.

He’d set foot on that road eventually; first, though, he had to reach rock bottom.

“You’re unworthy to even think about  my death, Odinson.” Or maybe that was just Ky’s ego talking; something he still had even after all that had changed. 

“Threaten me all you wish, but until this hammer leaves my hands you are nothing. Maybe once you were something, but now?” The Demon couldn’t help, but grin as he made his way forward. “You’ve fallen and you’re not going to get back to where you were. Not like this.”

Not that it mattered to Ky, Thor could strive to be worthy, and the Demon would deny him it. If he even got close to being worthy again… Ky would send him right back down to unworthiness. Why? Due to the fact that he liked – no, he enjoyed who he was now far too much. He enjoyed not just the power, but also… the control he had to silence those urges that were always just under his flesh.

“Not ever… not if i have a say in it.”

“ Want to? No. But I am a realist; I know that getting what you want usually requires giving something in return. ” COMPROMISE is both an effective and unsatisfying resolution, and sometimes the only means of making any progress. “ You want me to let you do what you want, when you want, to whoever you want? Now who’s being DELUSIONAL? ” Unsavoury truths are the very last thing he needs to hear right now, and spawns vexation that makes his demand cutting and concise in the midst of molten glare. “ Your life is what I’m offering you. Leave the people of my world alone, or I’ll put an END to you. ”

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“If we’re being very specific here, I am as part of your world as the next, Strange.” A simple point Ky knew he needed to push forward – even if it wasn’t entirely accurate. “You’re a realist and i’m a realist – you can’t protect everyone all the time and what i want is to simply do as i’ve always done.” Maybe it wasn’t exactly the best thing to say, but it was too late to correct himself now. “but let’s be clear here, yes? I don’t like you. I never have, but the only way I see the both of us coming to a solution is if you keep your damn nose out of what I decide to do, Strange.” A pause. “There are over five billion people on this planet…. i’m sure losing a few hundred to my amusement won’t mean anything in the larger scheme of things – unless, you’re willing to vouch for every single human in this world.”

          There is a look of skepticism that marches across his face. It stays there and Stephen crosses his arms over his chest. It isn’t uncommon, people come to him because of his past life. While his primary responsibility is to protect New York and the world from magical threats, he’s still a doctor a heart. Even if he doesn’t get a chance to practice as much as he would like. “What kind of condition are we talking about? A physical ailment? Or something more, mystic?”

            “A fair bit of both really,” he said, making his way forward. “This… condition of mine can’t be helped with simple machinery. Maybe if I had technology that could rival Stark, I may be able to make something, but that would require a team.” Funds were not the matter, but crafting what he had in mind to an actual physical item ( that actually worked ) was the problem he had. 

            “However, if we’re being blunt,” his lips pursed into a thin-line for a few moments, “I don’t even know if you can help me with… this.” Or maybe Ky just didn’t put too much faith in the man.  Either way, he was willing to try this route… it was the only option he had left. “Or if you’re even willing to attempt it.”

Whilst not known for his patience, the gallows god would serve to disappoint his detractors at this current time by mustering forth a tolerance for the young and inexperienced demon child as he managed to find his footing. It wasn’t too long ago, relatively speaking, that he had removed a jotunn child from the harsh expanse of his frigid world, and now the Norns had seen to it that history repeat itself, this time with Odin adopting one of the devil’s brood.

Before he lets his mind wander any further, the All-Father stops walking to bow respectfully to Ky’lar the youngest of his heirs and also the one with whom their life expectancy was in doubt. He was but a mortal if by half at that, and thus susceptible to the rot that was oblivion’s touch. With magic, he knew that he could free the boy from such an end, but Odin was not the giving sort; at least not until he had strong reason to bestow such a grace upon an individual.

“It means an end to loneliness, my child, for which I have known you to experience for far too long a time.” But of what sons to task with looking after Ky’lar as he adjusted to his new surroundings, he could but think of three. Unfortunately, with abroad Týr it left but two available; baldur and thor, both of whom were still in the process of proving themselves. He had hope that the responsibility of looking after a life may curb the wildness that had instilled itself within them both.

“On my one eye, I swear that you will never know such isolation ever again.”

Loneliness; he didn’t even know what the word meant. Let alone what it truly was to feel such a thing. Nor did he know how to actively pinpoint what he was feeling. So far, the only emotions he had truly understood were rage and self importance. 

This was the first time he had truly not just experienced, but understood curiosity, but not the sort he had before. This time, he had questions – loads of questions. He wouldn’t ask them though; it wasn’t his place… that was something that was instilled in him even before hand. 
Asking questions usually came with snide remarks from the Black one, but more so a pat on the head from the red one. Here… it was odd. People were like him; they were not… he didn’t know how to even describe them, but he knew he ‘fit’ in far better.
     “I’ve been fine.” No, he hadn’t; he knew something was missing, but as to what? He didn’t know. The boy accepted that he would always be different – it just wasn’t the case here. Truth be told… he didn’t even know what fine was. It was acceptance – no, only acceptance and obedience.“i’ll…” he lowered his head and glanced away from the All-father. “It’s just…” he couldn’t even get the word out; he didn’t even know how to explain ‘strange’ but he attempted to try his best by saying something similar. “Not the same.”