REALITY | p. maximoff

chapter two

Though, besides willingly sitting with them, her silence was her usual behavior so no one questioned it nor actively tried to force her interaction. They carried on with their fun and allowed her to watch as they switched from one stupid topic to another.

Currently, Clint was voicing his opinions on Thor's hammer, Mjolnir.

"'Ah, whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power,'" he belted with large guffaw. "Whatever, man! It's a trick."

The Asgardian laughed as he haughtily gestured toward his hammer, which stood slanted on the glass table at the center of the group. "Well, please, be my guest."

Everyone suddenly became quiet. They all knew how touchy Thor was about his hammer, it was an unspoken rule to not lay a finger on what the man treated as his child. To have him be so willing to let anyone touch Mjolnir was a rare opportunity, one that they took full advantage of.

One by one, the men of the group took turns with Thor's hammer. First was Clint, next Tony and Rhodes, then Banner, and lastly Steve Rogers, whom had the most progress over anyone else. No one seemed to notice the slight budge Mjolnir gave when Steve started pulling, nor did they notice the tiny smirk Annabelle gave to a panicked Thor.

When Steve finally sat back down, the group turned to the redhead of the team.

"Oh, no, no." Natasha shook her head. "That's not a question I need answered."

She leaned back in her seat and winked at the young woman across from her before taking a swig of her beer. The men then turned toward the silent Annabelle who also shook her head, saying a quick "no thank you".

"All deference to the Man Who Wouldn't Be King, but it's rigged," announced Stark as he stood with the rest of the wallowing men who couldn't get Thor's hammer up.

Clint clapped Tony on the back as he passed by, throwing a snooty look back toward Thor. "You bet your ass."

Hill immediately perked up and pointed at the archer. "Steve, he said a bad language word."

The veteran immediately snapped at the giggling Tony. "Did you tell everyone about that?"

"The handle's imprinted, right?" Stark ignored the beef cake, still trying to make sense of the magic hammer. "Like a security code. 'Whosoever is carrying Thor's fingerprints' is, I think, the literal translation."

Thor nodded and stood from his seat. "Yes. It's a very, very interesting theory. I have a simpler one."

He waltzed over to the table and picked up Mjolnir with the greatest of ease. Flipping the hammer up in the air and catching it again, he flashed everyone the cheekiest of grins.

"You're all not worthy."

They all groan at his statement. Playful complaints start to soar through the air only to be intercepted by a searing high-pitched ring that echoed throughout the building.

Annabelle practically clawed at her ears, the sound was almost deafening. She would've thought she had tinnitus if everyone hadn't done the same as she. Tony was the only calm one, instantly opening up a small holographic device to contact JARVIS.

Little did he know of what had become of his beloved AI system.

The shrill noise stopped as quick as it came. And right after came a soft voice from across the room.

"Worthy..."

Clumsy, metal footsteps followed. A feeble looking silhouette emerged through the large doorway, stopping at the top of the steps. It was a stripped and battered version of Stark's Legionnaire, but from a distance, it didn't look like an average robot.