ANGRBODA ※ Tony Stark [1]

7 - BLEAK

THE NEXT FEW DAYS went by faster than expected. Every agent at S.H.I.E.L.D was working hard on monitoring any looming threats. The main plan was to comb every square meter on the planet for the Gamma Radiations that could help them locate the Tesseract... but judging by how often Nick Fury could be heard throwing a fit, it was clear the search was stagnating.

Meanwhile, Tony and Bruce were spending hours on end locked in the lab. They made some interesting findings by studying the Scepter and the Mind Stone but Angrboda quickly gave up trying to understand their obscure scientific gibberish.

Instead, she had taken to familiarizing herself with the advanced weaponry of S.H.I.E.L.D and spent most of her time training intensely. The Helicarrier had many soundproof rooms with consolidated walls meant for that very purpose and that's where she would spend most of her days. She had a habit of being absolutely ruthless with her body but for the past few days, the physical pain reached her like a small pinch, drowned out by her craving for revenge.

The truth was, she didn't really know what she was preparing for. All she knew was that Loki gathered an army of Chitauri who were known to be ferocious creatures. Although Fury and the others were trying their best to prevent the opening of the portal that would get them to Earth, Angrboda knew the battle against the Chitauri was inevitable. Nevertheless, no one on this side of the universe had ever seen a Chitauri. It was awfully unsettling to prepare for a battle knowing virtually nothing against your enemy.

Regardless, she trained relentlessly, only stopping to eat, sleep and occasionally spend time with her fellow Avengers. Unsurprisingly, she was still having a hard time working with them, with the exception, perhaps, of Thor and Tony. As it turned out, they were all quite the personalities and putting them in the same room usually ended in chaos.

There was one person, who had turned out a surprising ally to her in this strange world: Agent Phil Coulson, Fury's right hand. He was a beloved figure at S.H.I.E.L.D and a truly passionate man. As it happened, Angrboda always thought passionate people were a step above everyone else.

Somehow, Phil had been a great help in erasing the doubts that still lingered about joining the Avengers. If Fury was a somewhat crude person, Coulson was considerate without making a fuss. Most importantly, he had been the friend she needed. It made the settling on this new planet feel a little less brutal.

⁂

By the end of the afternoon, that day, Angrboda had been punching into a boxing bag of the fitness room for hours. She panted, wiping the sweat off her face with a nearby towel and noticed that her mitt gloves were torn at the knuckles.

S.H.I.E.L.D was kind enough to provide her with a considerable supply of clothes but the fabrics they used on Earth were not nearly as resistant as the ones on Jötunheim. Sadly, her old clothes – the ones she had come to Earth in – hadn't taken well to all the ruffling around of the other night. She couldn't bring herself to throw them away, though.

Angrboda had never been one for melodrama but this was different. The destruction of her planet left her completely broken down and she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to move past it.

She was the Harpy of Jötunheim for crying out loud; she was normally so ruthless and calculating, she was fierce and unyielding... but right now, all she could process was how bleak the world seemed.

Seeing herself in Earthling clothes always came with a twinge. It wasn't the clothes themselves, of course, they were just black and plain. But in those clothes she looked like just another human. To make it worse, the shapeshifting process was well on its way, making it harder to cling to the last vestige of her life as a Jötnar... it was all terribly, pathetically bleak.