[ Angela is not the most insightful person, especially with people she doesn't know all that well. So the deep amount of trust that Stephen is gracing her with goes largely unremarked upon. But, she will honor his gesture of honesty with one of her own. ]
The peninsula of Ryslig was in some ways similar. It was no Earth, but it had been ravaged by disaster, and as far as we could tell, the entire world beyond the peninsula was lost, in a war between the local gods. We, too, were stripped of any abilities upon arrival; those of us who were not human were essentially made human by force. And then, after time and exposure to the Fog God's power, we were made into something else. You have seen my monster form.
This world, it seems, grants us a compromise. It has restored to you your magic, and to me my Asgardian strength, while leaving us with the traces of our previous worlds.
I suppose no one can escape such experiences untouched.
[ Ah. Context. He'd known only the very basics, from the assumption that minotaur wasn't a typical Asgardian trait to that discussion held while making careful plans to protect Loki from his own choices: could he or Billy make fog?
Fog God. From Asgardian to human to something else. The work of a god in another world, carried over.
It's a strange way to find kinship, two people of different origins from different universes four times over. But there aren't many here who have cause to understand what it is to have been through the multiversal wringer more than once, and come out changed in ways impossible to ignore. ]
I suppose not. Now all we need do is make the best of it.
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The peninsula of Ryslig was in some ways similar. It was no Earth, but it had been ravaged by disaster, and as far as we could tell, the entire world beyond the peninsula was lost, in a war between the local gods. We, too, were stripped of any abilities upon arrival; those of us who were not human were essentially made human by force. And then, after time and exposure to the Fog God's power, we were made into something else. You have seen my monster form.
This world, it seems, grants us a compromise. It has restored to you your magic, and to me my Asgardian strength, while leaving us with the traces of our previous worlds.
I suppose no one can escape such experiences untouched.
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Fog God. From Asgardian to human to something else. The work of a god in another world, carried over.
It's a strange way to find kinship, two people of different origins from different universes four times over. But there aren't many here who have cause to understand what it is to have been through the multiversal wringer more than once, and come out changed in ways impossible to ignore. ]
I suppose not. Now all we need do is make the best of it.
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[ :') ]
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But, will the grey hair be from age, or stress?
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[ Stress. His money's on stress. ]