When a God Speaks

Johnny Blaze pulled up to seedy bar, dust flying, as he came to a stop. Pickup trucks, other motorcycles, and the occasional muscle car dotted what passed for a parking lot, several of the regular patrons hanging around outside. One of them, a blonde with tattoos covering here arms whistled, perhaps at the bike or maybe Blaze himself, drawing the ire of her large, equally inked companion. Johnny ignored her and kept walking at a pace that showed he was in a hurry.

“Where you goin’ so fast sugar?” she asked. “That ride hot or somethin’?”

“You’ve no idea,” he replied entering the bar.

Once inside Blaze found himself in cramped quarters, shouldering his way past a crowd of bikers and rednecks alike.

“You with the brotherhood pretty-boy?” asked a bearded man.

“Nah. Ain’t had much luck with Hell or angels and I’m not much of a joiner,” Johnny said. “Just here for a drink.”

It was at that point he noticed the television in the corner, usually showing sports of some kind, was instead showing an emergency newscast. Something was going down at the White House and Blaze recognized the source of the commotion as someone from back home.

“Crap,” he muttered, signaling for a shot of whiskey.

Downing the drink in a single gulp he sighed, listening to the mumbling around him. Some stood in stony silence, others gasped in shock, and some spoke of terrorists. When it became clear that the freak in the cape and helmet was a vagrant with powers, that’s when a flood of bigoted insults rolled out.

“Told ya this was gonna happen. I freaking told ya. We all sat back and let them law makers and others send this country down the crapper. We let them act as if other subhumans were like us. But now these ones can do this? Nope. I saw we kill each and every one of those freaks no matter what kind of powers they have!” one biker shouted, riling up the crowd.

That’s my cue to leave, Johnny thought, not wanting to tempt the Rider just because of the racist bigmouth.

Paying for his drink he started to leave, the biker continuing his rant.

“Ain’t no different than what we did last year. That brother we educated about why his kind ain’t welcome ‘round here? We do the same to freaks. Plenty more open fields to bury bodies!” he boasted as his friends cheered.

At that Blaze sighed, his eyes filling with red-orange power as he flipped the jukebox over with a single hand, blocking the exit.

Magneto. Here. One way or another innocent blood is sure to be spilled as a result of his pushing and attacking, he thought as Zarathos chuckled in the back of his mind.


“You know,” Johnny said at the crowd now staring at him. “All I wanted was a drink. But no. I had to step into the one bar with cowardly, racist murderers. Unrepentant ones at that.”

As the fire rose inside him and the Rider emerged he shook his burning, skull of a head at the television knowing this was just the start of problems that Magneto would bring.



“I just wanted a drink.”


With that smoke and screams filled the bar and if Blaze was right, flames that could envelope the world would follow the madman on the television wherever he went.

Thor drank his pot of coffee quietly in the darkly lit room, a concrete chamber outfitted with nothing but a large glass paned mirror, a plain wooden desk, and two chairs. Thor stood beside the table, not sitting in part because the chair provided would not have held his weight, the other because he had far too much on his mind to sit and relax.

The large glass mug he had been provided was unwieldy, and outside of the handle on its side, the top had been nigh unmanageable. He had finally broken the plastic off of the top so that his lips might find purchase on the warm glass. It was a fairly good drink, though he had to confess that he added all of the 'sweetener' and 'creamer' they had provided. The mortals did have a saying he believed. 'when in rome'...

The mirror had been an odd accessory to the room, Thor eyed it carefully while he nursed his drink. Shadowy forms danced behind it. The average human may not have been able to penetrate the barrier, but Thor was by no means average for an Asgardian, let alone a human. They spoke in hushed tone's, and appeared to be excited in some form, one of the shadowed figures was very... demonstrative in is actions, his arms flailing about pointedly in his direction, the other more relaxed in response. The other, more active figure made a final show of his hands, then turned and walked deeper into the room out of sight.

Thor took another sip from the pot... at least these people were somewhat accommodating...

The door to his room burst open suddenly, grabbing hold of the Asgardians attention. A man in a suit entered, somewhat disheveled in appearance and very much agitated. Anger was etched across his face, and while being a man of some size, he was still dwarfed in comparison to Thor. This did not stop him from squaring up on the Thunder God.

"What just happened in Washington?" the man asked, the tone in his voice seemingly expecting an answer from Thor, who had been in this room for several days now.

"Excuse me-"

"WHAT just happened in Washington? don't tell me you don't know your little stunt in New York is connected right?"

"I have no idea what ye speak of, friend." Thor replied, taking another sip from the pot." 

The agent's hand shot out knocking the pot away from Thor's hands, the plastic grip shelf tight while the steaming mix of coffee and glass littered the floor beside him.

"Don't bullsh*t me, you Neo's and Vagrants are all in this together aren't you? Just come clean with it already and quit jerking us around, if you don't i'll -"

Thor's hand shot out grabbing the man roughly by the collar and lifting him into the air, his other hand dropping the handle to the floor to join the mess. The man had been angry, but now he had incurred the wrath of a god.

"You will do nothing. You may think yourself brave, walking into this room full of piss and vinegar while thy companions tiptoe around me, though you have instead proven yourself a fool, unfitting of the rank and power that you now possess. If nothing else, understand this, I am only here because I choose to be mortal, and if I such desired it, I would walk and breathe freely under open skies, unfettered by the confines I find myself within." Thor spoke, thunder clear in his voice as blue eyes drilled holes in his would-be interrogator. He had done everything they had asked, even while his agreement had not technically extended beyond that of the woman he had initially agreed to cooperate with.

The look in the man's eyes made it clear that Thor's words were being heard and understood. Good, because it was only a start. The doorway opened once more and three men aimed their guns carefully into the room, two standing upright, one ducking below and two the right. He would have laughed had he not been so irritated.

"Consider this my first, and only warning mortals. The next man to walk into this room with violence in their heart will see the end of my patience, as well as my attempt at cooperation. So plan thy next words carefully, boy." Thor finished, dropping the grown man like he weighed nothing more than a child's doll. The man falling back from the unexpected drop, landing on his butt, scooting away as much as he could.

"Tell me of what has happened in Washington. Quickly." Thor asked, cutting to the heart of what had caused a rift between the agents and the god of thunder.

"This guy attacked the White House a few minutes ago... He was dressed in red and purple and could he ripped several cars into pieces, thousands of pieces...." The man stuttered, pulling his phone form his pocket and holding it up, showing it to Thor.

"...Magneto."

"What?"

"Summon your 'Hellhound', we have much to discuss and little time to do so." Thor finished, turning from the men and towards the back wall. He was finished talking for now. Negotiating this world had now become much more of a challenge, and from what he had seen, these people were not yet up to the challenge.