Brunnhilde- first and foremost- immediately puts a stop to the screaming.
It's relatively easy.
She's a king; one who has spent many years mastering the art of Asgardian crowd control, and this is a room of three and a half Midgardians; all of whom are much more down to Earth than Loki and their extended entourage of playwrights.
The second thing she does is admit her error in cooking- "Just so everyone is aware, we're going vegetarian tonight"- because why start another riot once this one calms down? And the third thing Brunnhilde does, already pressing Carol's head into the crook of her neck and locking her in with unrelenting force, is crack a joke.
"Why did the chicken cross the road?"
Kamala doesn't answer- still coming to terms with Carol's death and subsequent over-stimulation, "Ohmygod, I'm sorry- I'm so sorry. I forgot. I deserve to be put to the sword," but Chavez plays along. She maneuvers out of her chair and tosses her phone on the counter.
"I don't know. Why?"
"Because it was free-range."
Monica winces. Pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers, she's murmuring, "That was so bad," as Chavez graciously turns off the stove. There's a loud 'pop,' almost like the chicken is fighting back. Brunnhilde presses her hands to Carol's ears- a way to lessen the noise- and as she does so, America grins.
"Monica's right," she says. "That was awful."
She shoots Brunnhilde a set of finger guns.
"Do another."
***
"Knock-knock."
"Who's there?"
"Robin."
"Robin who?"
"Robbin' you. Hand over the Bifrost, or I'll portal you to Antarctica... naked."
"Solid 4 out of 10."
"Knock-knock! "
"Who's there?"
"I am."
"I am who?"
"So, you have identity problems, huh?"
"..."
"Too on the nose?"
"Straight to jail."
"Why couldn't the Viking get out of bed the day after running a marathon?"
"Pshh, I dunno. Why?"
"Because he was too Thor to move."
"Kam. Never speak to me again."
"Why did the duck cross the road?"
"Wait. Isn't it supposed to be chicken-"
"Just go along with it."
"Okay, Jeez. No idea. Why?"
"It didn't. It was a chicken in disguise."
"..."
"..."
YOU ARE READING
It's a Slow Fire of Sorts: Part I
AbenteuerIn 1991, on the far edges of the Universe, the future King of New Asgard is minding her own business. She's drinking, fighting... surviving. Everything is tolerable on Sakaar. That is, until a Kree taskforce barrels into her favorite bar in search o...