Shattered Thunder
Cutscene: Shattered Thunder
IC Details

Atli Wodendottir laments the loss of her beloved spear, and some of her power.

IC Date: January 03, 2020
IC Location: So many
OOC Notes & Details
Posted: 04 Jan 2020 02:45
Rating & Warnings: Rated A for Asgardian.
Associated Plots

"It was a very good spear you see. Crafted from my grandfather's broken axe. Steeped in his own blood. It could cut through anything! And, much like what you are offering me, it had great power. You see, it had his power, and allowed me to channel blasts of.. blasts of.." Atli couldn't finish the sentence, and her face began to scrunch in a most unmighty way. Her beloved spear, Jarnbjorn, had been the very last thing she had from her time. Her last connection to her family. The only way to tap into the same power her grandfather had wielded.

Ted Andrews, door to door DirectTV salesman, gives Atli Wodendottir an awkward pat on the shoulder as she loses her composure, her expression a horrifying mess of almost mythical woe.

"There, there, uh…. I think, maybe there's uh.. spear throwing. In our sports package. On the Olympic reruns. If you just sign here…" Ted's reassurance does not halt her tears, and it's with an obscene sniffle and no small amount of snot that Atli Wodendottir signs the Guardians's SHIELD-owned house up for five hundred and eighty six dollars a month worth of satellite television.


"So there I was, wreathed in cosmic flame, with the power of the Phoenix running through me. A hammer of Fire and Thunder brought to bear. I smote that grey giant into an untold oblivion! Can Odin ever say he had a Firebird inside him? No, no I think not. Always on his stupid arm! One-eyed fool!" A wavering Girl of Thunder takes another long pull from her bottle of Grey Goose, which has been re-labeled Warren Water, and sets it down next to her giant pile of waffles.

The man sitting beside her looks on with blatant curiosity, clearly excited by Atli's story. "You think i could maybe get a picture with you and your hammer, Ms…Thunder.. uh.. She-Thor?"

You and your hammer

Atli's expression goes blank, and she face-downs into the waffles, hoping their syrupy and buttery goodness can drown away her woes.


"Uh, Bob?"

"Yeah Dan?"

"Is that woman with the cape threatening the Sphinx?"

"Yeah Dan."


Even Asgardians have their limits, though some might imagine when it comes to drinking, those limits are somewhat nebulous.. The Girl of Thunder has done her very best to prove them wrong. Weeks of self indu;gence, partying, and drinking enough to near the limit on one of Lord Stark's borrowed credit cards, she has retreated here to the healing waters of the X-Pool, located upon the ancestral home of the X-People. Of course, the waters are not healing at all, and in fact the pool has been drained for the winter, and so Atli had to improvise. Upon nightfall, her plan was struck.

Bottle upon bottle of 'Warren Water' lay strewn about the grounds, with two upturned and in the hands of the barely standing Princess of Asgard, pouring into the pool itself, the very place where she had poured a few hundred or so other bottles. So focused on her task of being drunk and filling the X-Pool with what would surely be Healing Alcohol if her plan worked, she barely noticed the nudge at her hip. Insistent, the nudging eventually drew the gaze of Atli until it found her oldest companion and friend, Toothbender, her loyal Spacegoat.

"What do you have there, fool of a goat? Did I not tell you to stay out of the trash of X-People? Verily, this is how you get slaughtered all the time." It did not take much to wrest the small box from Toothbender, and as she stumbled into one of the pool-side chairs and put it to the test with her Asgardian weight, she barely noticed the object that tumbled from the box, instead, her gaze was fixed upon the letter within.

Hey Kid, heard you were having a rough time, and when the goat showed up I swear he looked concerned. Or maybe hungry. When I handed him this box I gambled on him just being here to ask me to help a friend. Can't say I know exactly what you're going through. All of our demons are a little different, but I know enough about being broken down and taken apart that the only solution is to put yourself back together again. Take it from me, there’s no glue at the bottom of those bottles. Since I've always found that building something helps piece me back together when I'm feeling apart, I’ve included a little something I picked up in Crazy Apocalypse Land. Maybe it'll help you get your mojo back. In the meantime, do me a favor and try not to fight anymore Vegas hotels. - Stark

It wasn't very big. Maybe the size of a business card. Jagged and triangular. Gleaming and beautiful. Atli raised the last shard of Jarnbjorn from her lap and curled her hand around it hard enough to draw blood. Somewhere in the clouds beyond, thunder roiled for the first time since she had returned to this realm without her spear. For the first time in a long while, Atli Wodendottir had hope in her heart, and a few tears in her eyes.

"Toothbender. We're going to need… wizards. Lots of wizards. Perhaps the Sorceress Supreme herself. A grand quest. Gather your hindparts, and get out of the X-Pool. Verily, it is time."

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