Asgardian Twilight

Princess Leia Realness

As soon as Dean and Lockjaw stepped through the golden ring, the sight of the landfill expanded. Dean looked around and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "This is a hoarder's dream," he muttered.

Lockjaw huffed irritably and looked over at Dean.

"I know, buddy. It's gross here. But the sooner we find Thor, the sooner we can get back."

Lockjaw walked forward and his front paw crushed a box, spewing a wet, green substance underfoot. He looked over his shoulder at Dean, lifted his paw, and began to shake it about as he let out a whimper of frustration.

"When we get out of here, I promise I'll give you the best bath you've ever had," Dean assured him as he moved forward and rubbed his back.

Sudden movement and the sound of an engine revving pulled Dean back to the search.

"Stay here," Dean whispered to Lockjaw. The dog sat down and his eyes widened as he felt another mess beneath him.

Dean floated over the trash and rose up in the air so that he could look just over the dune. An aircraft had lifted up off of the ground and flown off into the distance where a large towering structure loomed. From his vantage point, the tower looked as if it had been built from various odds and ends. He looked from the tower back to the aircraft and then along the landfill where several figures lay bloody and torn.

"What happened here?" he whispered to himself as he floated closer and observed the wounds on the dead humanoids. It looked as if they'd been stricken with gunfire of some sort- definitely not the work of Thor.

The sound of howling pierced the air and Dean's head shot up. "Lockjaw!" he winced as he flew up and hurried back to where he'd left him. Upon arrival, he found the massive bulldog laying flat on his back, his chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. He alighted next to the dog and laid a hand on his belly. "Lockjaw, look at me," he urged.

"Food or fighter?" a harsh voice barked from behind him.

Dean slowly stood up, his fists beginning to glow. He'd come to this ridiculous trash planet to find his fiance and return home, not to be harassed by the locals. His eyes began to emit intense light. "Oh, I'm a fighter," he spoke in a threatening voice.

"Everyone say that when they not want to be a food!" the voice accused.

Dean rolled his eyes and spun around, loosing a stream of light from his fingertips. The rays struck the speaker- a creature similar in shape, size and clothing to the dead ones he'd only just discovered. The blast broke the rifle in his arms and tossed him several feet away and through a mountain of trash.

More gunmen jumped up from beneath the trash. Surmising that they must have been waiting to ambush unsuspecting travelers, Dean shot up into the sky, a barrage of gunfire popping as they opened fire. Once at his zenith, he scattered his body in a burst of photons.

"Where food go?" a hunter demanded.

Dean reappeared behind one of them, rising up slowly and quietly before kicking the creature in his back. The other gunmen tracked him and he scattered again, reappearing at random and striking enemy after enemy in his wake. He stopped behind a collection of enemies as the huddled together, their guns pointing jerkily in every direction

"Food!" one of them screamed when he sighted him.

Dean raised his hands and set up a thick wall of light before him, absorbing the energy blasts with ease. The hunters advanced as they fired and Dean stood his ground, waiting until he could see the beady little eyes up close. Then, in a rush of intense power, he scattered the force field, sending out a cone of sheer brilliance, searing all of the enemies and throwing their smoking bodies across the landfill.