Midgard - or Earth, for its habitants and guests - is home to many beings. No matter how big or small they are, or their power, or the time period they exist in, they all look at the blue sky of the blue world and know it's their blue world. They belong there, and they're meant to enjoy their planet.
I think I enjoy their planet as well.
The small portal opens inside my room, and it closes immediately. It's night outside, and only Django is here, sleeping on his green bed. It looks huge compared to him. It's almost comical. He wakes up, and notices me, sleepily running over to me.
Kneeling down, I cup my hands to hold him. —Hey, boy. I won't be leaving like this again, okay? —he ignores me, falling asleep in my hands, —You're a rude boy. —but I softly kiss his head, and stand up, keeping him near me.
Some stars in the sky can be seen from my window. Wong has said they are more visible in the countryside, because New York has too much air pollution, but I can still recognise some constellations the witches taught me.
The door suddenly slams open, so I turn around, finding the wizards and the agents suited up and confused.
Strange puts his guard down. —Oh, we felt another door open-—
—Yes, that was me. Be quiet though, Django is sleeping. —
Victoire narrows her eyes and walks up to me, locking her eyes with mine through the darkness. She notices their colour, and raises her eyebrows. —I thought you were going to evade being queen somehow, what happened? —
I shrug. —I made sure the queen wasn't that important. —I start walking to the door, gently petting Django, —So now I don't need to decide everything and, since I know you're wondering, demons will not hurt anyone else. —I turn to the wizards, —I will keep staying on Earth, this room is still mine, right? —
—Of course. —Wong is the first to reply. —You already made yourself at home. —
Strange adds, —And, our deal was you'll stay until the Asgard thing ends. Not the Hell thing. God, your kingdoms are so messy. —he jokes, and then he points at Barney, —But not you though, you don't have to stay anymore. —
—Ouch. —he puts his hand on his chest, —Rude. I'll stay for a few more days and you're not stopping me, your AC is great and mine is broken. —he doesn't let Strange answer, instead starting to walk down the hall, —Star, come on, we were in the middle of dinner. —
I carefully leave Django on his bed, and we walk to the kitchen.
It's been about two weeks since I arrived on Earth. Two weeks since I met the wizards, and the agents, and the X-Men, and a week since I found Django. Now that I won't be bothered anymore, and I am free to stay on Earth for as long as I want, I am more than thankful for having met them. It was luck, in all honesty. It had to be magic - there is no other explanation for the flourishing of such friendships.
Friendships?
Wong hands me a plate, —I cooked extra pasta in case you were back tonight. —he sits down, —If you weren't, it would have been Barney's. —
I grab the fork and imitate the others, wrapping the pasta around it.
—He's like a garbage can, he always eats any leftover food. —Victoire adds, and Barney tries to deny the accusation, but she threatens him with her own fork. He gives up.
—By the way, Star, —Strange starts, —We had a question for you. —
I hum, —I did too. —
—Oh. Ask first then, ours is a little complicated. —he makes a hand gesture telling me to go on, and continues eating,
—Are we friends? —
Even though I keep my eyes on my food as I ask the question, I can hear some of their movements cease, and someone's breathing stops. Why? I look at them, and Victoire stopped eating to look at me, while Strange is not blinking anymore, looking at his plate. It's not a hard question, is it?
Barney swallows his last bite, and grins, —Yeah, kid. You tend to become friends with people you fight demons with. We're like the ghostbusters. I'll show you that movie someday. —he points his fork at me, —But you're more like a nephew, you know? Or a younger cousin. I mean, technically, you are. —
I smile, —That's understandable. —
—Friendships are complicated. —Wong says, shrugging, —At least for me, and many other humans. I don't know how friendships work in Asgard, but it takes me more time and trust to call one a friend. —
—Well, I mean, I don't know about friendships in Asgard either, but I think I consider you all my friends. —I take a sip of my drink, and then I add, —It might be because I almost died a few times, of course. —
Barney chuckles, —Exactly, you get it. —
—I'm kinda like Wong. —Victoire finally answers, —But I do think we're friends. Even if we weren't, we're cousins, so I can't really get rid of you. —
Strange snaps out of his trance. —Speaking of cousins, —he folds his hands under his chin, looking between Victoire and I, —Our question regards Barton and magick. While you were in Hell doing your own thing, she told us she has manifested some powers, and is surprisingly interested in learning wizardry and demon magick. Wong and I are willing to teach her about our mystic arts, so it's up to you to teach her your magick and witchcraft, if you want. —
—Oh my, —I look at Victoire, —I thought you hated witches? —she simply rolls her eyes, smiling, so I go back to Strange, —It's funny, originally I was supposed to teach you. —
He shrugs. —We'll continue trying. But Victoire has a natural tendency, and it will definitely be easier for both. —
I nod. —I will help her out, sure. Does this mean she will be staying with us? —
—Yeah! —this time she answers, —Of course I'd have to go check on my apartment sometimes, and I still have my job in SHIELD, but for the most part I'd be living here. —
Barney sighs. —Yet I can't stay. —he acts hurt, but you can tell his tone is sarcastic, —You stole my roommate, my best friend, my sister. Now I'll be living alone with a ghost and laundry I don't know how to classify. —
Victoire stays quiet, letting him dwell on how dramatic he sounds. Strange raises an eyebrow, —Did you do theatre in college? —
When his sister laughs at him, Barney simply shows Strange his middle finger, which is received with a smirk.
A familiar tingle runs down my neck.
—I actually did improv, don't get it wrong. —
Taking one last sip of my drink, I stand up, excusing myself. —I need some minutes alone, I will be in my room. —
Running upstairs and quickly locking my door behind me, I let the tingle do what it wants, as a manifestation slowly appears in the middle of my room. Django wakes up, so I grab him, calming him down as he meows at the new body in front of us.
—You look different, Starchild. —
I nod, smiling, —Yes, these clothes are midgardian. They're very comfortable. —
Father walks up to me, inspecting my face. —Your eyes... —
—I am... I rule Hell now. —I don't know why, but my throat is a knot. —I guess I caused some trouble around here. It's been two long weeks. Lucifer died, then I found a cousin of mine, then I trapped Sabrina, and just an hour ago I reformed Hell, or something. Learned some magic. I made friends, too. —
He smiles, and looks at Django. —And adopted an animal, I suppose. —
—His name is Django. He is a cat. —
Nodding, he tries to pet him, but his manifestation cannot do it. —He's cute. —he looks at me, —Where I am, it's only been a day since we last spoke. I'm in a safe place now. I met some people I will use to get out of here. They love me. —he winks. —Nothing compared to everything you did, though. However, I need to tell you, I trust whatever you choose to do with Hell, but being a ruler can be overwhelming. You can contact me whenever you need help. —
—I think I will figure it out alone. You need to focus on your... Situation. —
Somebody knocks on the door, and I hear Barney's voice from the other side saying he wants to meet Father, followed by the sounds of someone else dragging him away.
I laugh. —That's a friend of mine. —
—They sound lovely. —
He seems to be called, for he looks at the wall and nods.
—I need to go. —he sighs, —I will try to talk to you more often, but like I said, you can contact me whenever you need to, understood? —I nod, and Father continues, —Keep doing whatever you are doing and stay safe. —
—Will you be okay? —
He smiles confidently. —Yes, of course. I have a good plan. —he looks around again, —I will leave this place and come for you. We will find a new home for us then. —
I tilt my head, —Asgard isn't an option? —
—I'm afraid it isn't. —
Things have got to be terrible in Asgard for Father to give up on it. I still believe we could stop the firstborn from taking the throne, but I know trying to convince Father is useless, especially considering he's stuck on a random planet. Finding a home should be easy. We could stay on Earth, in such a case... He starts to disappear, scaring Django again, but I simply wave Father goodbye.
—See you, Starchild. —
Well, at least he's doing fine. Now alone with Django, I unlock my door's room, and instead of finding an empty hall, I see Strange leaning on the wall next to the door, with Victoire next to him, keeping her hand on Barney's mouth.
The siblings react awkwardly, but Strange brushes the situation off. —I wanted to know the state of Asgard. —
—Don't lie, Strange, I know you like to eavesdrop. —I point at the siblings, —I will introduce Father to you next time, don't worry. —
Barney quietly celebrates, and Victoire narrows her eyes at him. —It's like you keep forgetting he's considered a war criminal by, you know, our bosses. —
He shrugs. —He sounds like a nice dude. —
Wong appears at the end of the hallway, giving a few claps, ushering the others away, —Stop gossiping and go back to the kitchen, I left some dessert for you. I need to talk with Star. —the Bartons don't hesitate to get their sweets. Strange stays here, however, receiving a look from Wong. —Alone, Strange. This isn't related to wizardry. —
He tries to say something, but he nods, walking away.
—He's probably hidden behind the corner. —Wong whispers to me, —Can you hide us with an illusion? —
—Sure. —
Strange is, in fact, right behind the corner, so I make a quick local illusion which makes us invisible and unhearable for him. When he notices, I hear his steps walk away in disappointment.
Wong continues, —He hates not knowing things, but I decided this is something he should know later. —looking in his pocket, he brings out a small card, —I have been talking with Charles Xavier lately. He is very interested in you attending his school, you know, the one for mutants, and I believe it would be good for you. —he hands me the card, —They teach plenty of human subjects, many things we wouldn't be able to teach you. And, most importantly, there's kids like you in there. You should hang out with people your age while you stay here. —
I nod, it makes sense. It sounds interesting. —Why not tell Strange? —
—He's an overthinker. —he shrugs, —If I told him now, he'd try to convince you out of it. "You don't know about the world, so you're in danger outside", or "you're too powerful to be around human children", or "we can perfectly teach you that stuff". —
—So you're trying to convince me into it? —
—No, that's Xavier's job. —he shows a small smile, —You can visit the school any of these days and he will give you a tour and answer any of your questions. Then, it's your decision, Star. If you like what you see, you will start attending, and I might tell Strange. If you decide not to attend, it's okay. Strange will never know about it, and you will learn with us. —
—Oh, that sounds terrible. —I joke, —I think I do want to check it out. Could you portal me there tomorrow? —
He nods, —Of course. —as the conversation is over, I stop the illusion. —You should go have some rest, now that it's all over. We'll go to the school after breakfast. —
I grin, —Goodnight, then. —
—Goodnight. —
As he leaves, and I walk back to my room with Django sleeping again in my hands, I start reading the card. It includes what I suppose is an address, a phone number, the name and title of Xavier, and most importantly, the name of the school.
XAVIER'S SCHOOL
FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS