Tributes
Cutscene: Tributes
Author
IC Details
Synopsis:

All of Asgard honors The Dazzler, while Atli Wodendottir grapples with the truth of the mortal coil, the loss of her friends, and the mystery surrounding that los.

IC Date: October 25, 2019
IC Location: Asgard and Mars
OOC Notes & Details
Posted: 25 Oct 2019 05:47
Rating & Warnings: Rated A for Anguish
Associated Plots

Of all the promises he had made, sworn oaths meant to keep his King and Realm safe, Heimdall had broken very few. The order to find The Dazzler had come often, mostly when Odin was drunk, and just as often, Heimdall had lied. A lie that was for the best for everyone, but most especially Alison Blair. He would check in on her, to make sure none from the Realms Eternal would interfere with her life after what Amora had done to her, and then he would say that his All-Seeing Eyes could not find her.

The next time he checked, he had wished he truly could not find her. For the first time in a long time, Heimdall told Odin the truth about The Dazzler. For the first time in a long time, Heimdall felt the warmth of his own tears.

It did not take long for the word to spread on Asgard, of the death of the hero who brought their people back from the brink of callousness. When Atli Wodendottir arrived there, seeking only to refill her supply of mead, she simply could not accept it. When she finally did, when her denial ran out, it was as if she had been pushed through the portal on Cronux all over again. Nothing made sense. Nothing might ever make sense again.


The crush of mortality was not something the Girl of Thunder truly understood. When Phil Coulson fell in battle, Atli Wodendottir did what she always did when faced with such adversity. She drowned it in drink, and reflected on what her grandfather had told her about death and the departed. Honor them always. Remember them always. Be strong, for those who cannot. She looked to his wisdom on how to be sturdy in the face of such loss. The Son of Coul had been a fellow warrior, and she mustered herself to pay respects while pushing away thoughts that she might never see him again. Never facing death in such a way was made far worse when the Son of Coul returned from the dead, proving to her that her grandfather had been a fool on the subject. Mortals, truly, were not so mortal at all.

But she was the fool. She was unprepared.

King Thor would often come to the blasted lands of Midgard of the future, and Atli and her sisters could never understand his reverence for piles of burnt dirt and fading memories like she so pointedly understood it now.

Lady Lasersong. The Dazzler. Alison. Every bit the radiance of her legend, the woman who had reignited a respect for mortality and a drive for Asgard and Odin himself to protect the whole of the realms had shown Atli the kindness so few mortals knew how to show. Whatever else the Girl of Thunder might have been, she was alien to them, and though it rarely showed she knew when they would look at her as if she did not belong.

But Alison never made her feel that way. It took but a few moments to understand her ever-present kindness, and more than that patience. Many mortals made Atli feel like family, but families can be tough. Alison had made Atli feel welcome. People like Atli needed people like her. People like Warren did too.

When she had met Warren Worthington, The Glorywing, she had called him Bird Man. But he was so much more. He was Worthy. Worthy of The Dazzler's love, and of his place in Atli's mind as the protector of all the X-People. Brave enough to leave his home to defend the defenseless on a whole other world. A guiding star who would give her the best advice, and one of the few X-People who seemed to not mind her bathing in their Washing Pond so very much.

Apart, they were wonderful people. Together, they had shown her what true love looked like. That is why what they had said happened, how they had perished, simply could not be.

Liquor held no power of her despair and reason no power over her rage. The Shark People of Mars huddled in their deep caves, hiding from the storm of the millenium that had come upon them in mere moments, and of the wailing scream that cut through it as ice and dust and lightning ravaged the surface of their world. The thunder shook mountains to near shambles. The stars themselves seemed to blink out, shying away from the raw power of a storm powered by an immortal's very mortal loss. It was here in red dust, far away from where Atli Wodendottir might harm anyone with her anguish, that she was forced to confront the harsh reality of the place she had adopted as her home. The heroes of Midgard were finite. It would never be easy to love them, nor be part of their extended family. But every moment, no matter how fleeting, was worth the pain she felt now.


Alison Blair might never know the full extent of what she had done for Asgard. Like a butterfly responsible for a tidal wave, her words had moved the whole of a people to a purpose, and more than that, moved Odin to tears. It was no different on the day that they honored her passing, in the very garden where a statue of Odin and his favorite Firebird once looked towards the Royal Vault. Odin spoke with reverence, as did so many others. But not the Girl of Thunder. Instead she watched from afar, unable to speak, as the Allfather revealed the statue to take the place of his old one.

As the cloth split away from the new creation, the Odin-Force gathered. There at the foot of the perfect picture of Alison Blair in gold and silver, fifty feet high and gleaming in the sun, the Allfather lit an eternal flame of rainbow light that danced across metallic skin. An arm outstretched to the heavens, her gaze fixed on Midgard, so far away, she looked every bit to be singing her song into the sky. It was a day of remembrence and song. For Atli, it was a day to make promises.

Her wineskin was nearly empty, and sitting on the base of the new statue, legs dangling as she remarked to her silent companion, she mused to the sky. "Don't worry, Glorywing. I didn't forget about you. I've already bribed the dwarves, and your statue will be on your favorite mountainside, looking up to meet her gaze." With no reply coming, Atli looked down to the place beside her, where the makeshift Lego version of Warren Worthington waited. Wings stapled on. A tiny smile Sharpied in. It had been on the little boat Atli had given to Warren in the hospital, and she stared at it for the longest time, churning in turmoil she could not shake, before Toothbender finally came to rescue her from herself.

Sliding from the statue base and gathering up her spear, she met the gaze of the plastic figurine. "Keep her company in the meantime. I'll be back soon, once I find out what happened. Once I avenge you both."

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