StarDestroyer.Net BBS

"Oh God, that hurts," said Angel, clutching his head with his left hand. He was lying on a sheepskin run, looking up at the ceiling. He sat up and looked around. He was in a big hall of some sort, decor of the medieval variety. with lots of tables and benches and a stone floor. There was no one else here.

"Where am I?" he asked out loud. He got to his feet. "Anyone here?" he called out.

"Yo," said a voice just off to his right and slightly behind him. Angel spun to see a slim red haired man wearing a dark Armani suit. He had a gold goblet in his right hand. "How ya fielding champ?"

"Like a pinata," Angel replied. "Where am I?"

"We'll get to that in a moment," the red haired man said. He passed Angel the cup. "Blood of heroes. Good for what ails ya."

Angel sniffed it. It was blood alright and without any drugs that he could detect. "If we wanted to grease you, we would have already done it," the man said. "You know, when you were lying there unconscious? Trust me, we want you alive and well."

Angel took a sip and then gulped it down. It was without a doubt some of the best he had ever had. "This is pretty good. Thanks. Now, where are my friends?"

"Nearby, being looked after. Tell me Angel, what's the last thing you remember?"

"Fighting the dragon. I was falling."

"Yeah, that's about where we came in. You guys impressed the hell out of us and we were hoping you could give us a hand, so we cheated just a little."

"Who is 'us'?" Angel asked.

"Fair question. Let's just say we're some of the Powers That Be."

"Funny, this doesn't look like heaven, not that I was really expecting to make it there. A little cool for hell.

"Well, that really depends if you're talking about hell or Hel, doesn't it? Yeah, this isn't heaven but you and your crew aren't exactly the kind that would fit in there so you ended up with us instead. As you might have noticed, not all of the Powers That Be are exactly on the same page. We're a little . . . . rougher around the edges than most."

"Stop playing around and give me some answers before I rip your lungs out."

"Hey, Angel, no need for that. We have some concerns about the Final Battle and we've had those concerns for some time. Suddenly both vampires with souls get taken off the playing board and to be frank, we were fine with having either you or Spike being that guy. Shit happens and all that. But then there is this brand new army of Slayers and they start acting in a manner we can only call troubling. So we're taking some direct action to make sure the Apocalypse, or whatever you want to call it, turns out favorably."

"And that is?"

"We want to put you and yours back into the game."

"We died, didn't we?"

"Yeah, but here's the clever part: you died by supernatural means. Which makes you are all fair game for supernatural resurrection." The red headed man cocked his fingers into guns and pointed at Angel. "So you, my man, are going back into the game in a sneaky little substitution, courtesy of my team."

"Funny, you still haven't mention who your team is."

"Oh. My bad. We're the Norse gods. Welcome to Valhalla."

"I thought Valhalla was supposed to be full of the slain."

"It's is. Well, alright, it's mostly full of the slain. This bit is empty."

"Seems like a pretty big bit," said Angel.

"Follow me," said the red headed man and headed toward a set of double doors. He threw them open. There as far as the eye could see were warriors from every era of human history sitting side by side, eating and drinking. Zulus sat next to Wehrmarcht soldiers who sat across from a knight in Gothic plate and a British Redcoat. Every possible variation and iteration stretched out into infinity.

"How big is this place?" Angel asked.

"Five hundred and forty doors on the outside and eight hundred warrior standing abreast can pass through each one. And if you think that's cool, you should see what we have in the garage."

Awesome. I will be watching this fic VERY closely for updates. Norse mythology is a hobby of mine. Who's the red-headed man, Loki?

Angel turned to the red headed man. "My Norse mythology is a little rusty, but you're Loki, right?"

"Guilty as charged," Loki replied. His voice dropped to just above a whisper. "Don't believe everything you here. I'm really not that bad of a guy." He smiled.

"Where are the other gods, you know, the good ones?" Angel asked.

"Hey, that hurts. Who does team Norse turn to when things get rough? It's always 'hey Loki, we need a cunning plan.' And do I get any of the credit? No, all you mortals are busy giving the credit to Thor. Who do you think commissioned his hammer and got it on the cheap, I might add? What am I, chopped liver?" He shook his head. "Mortals."

"You still didn't answer my question."

"Look, the other gods haven't exactly kept up with certain niggling details of mortal culture so the All Father and I agreed that I would handle this."

"You mean Odin."

"Yes I mean Odin. Do you have any idea of how bad Thor's temper tantrums can be. Picture an short tempered god, a giant killing hammer, . . . . . . and Spike in the same room. Then press play. What do you think is going to happen."

"Good call."

"Thank you. Speaking of Spike . . ." Loki pointed and Angel's gaze followed his hand. The peroxide blonde vampire was sitting with a bunch of World War Two era British Tommies. He was holding up an empty stein and yelling at a woman passing by.

"Hey luv, could you get us a refill! Thanks." He turned and his gaze met Angels. "Bloody hell. I was just beginning to like this place. What are you doing here?"

"Same thing you are," Angel said. He jerked his thumb at Loki. "This is Loki."

"Hi," said Spike and then proceeded to ignore him. "Am I going to have to put up with you for all eternity, because if that's the case I'm going to have to serious consider moving someplace else."

"Spike," said Angel with more emphasis, "this is the god Loki."

"Oh, nice to meet you. A bit overdressed for this place, aren't you. Am I going to have to spend all eternity with this wanker?"

"Maybe not," said Loki with a grin. He addressed the table with a smile. "Gents, can you give us the table for a minute?" The Tommies cleared off instantly.

"Hey," said Spike, "those guys were fairly decent blokes."

"They'll be fine," said Loki. "I'm here to offer you another shot at life."

"Really? That's pretty quick. You guys must be desperate. What's in it for me?"

"A seat like this when you croak it. And the pleasures of being alive."

"I'm not sure if I want to leave," said Spike hedging.

Loki took out a massive wad of cash held by a gold money clip. "And I'll be bank rolling your drinking back in Midgard."

Spike snatched the money. "Done."

"Just like that?" Angel asked.

"It's a pretty good deal," said Spike defensively. "Besides I rather liked being alive."

Loki snapped his fingers. A blonde woman wearing fatigues came over with a platter of beer mugs. He handed one to Spike. "Let's go."

"Thanks luv," Spike said to the woman. He fell in behind Angel and Loki. "Hey, what would have happened if I hadn't said yes?"

"You don't want to know," said Loki.

"Actually, I kind of do."

"No, you don't," said the god. He approached another table. Charles Gunn was sitting with some roughly Civil War era Buffalo Soldiers. He drained a shot glass full of whiskey. "Hey, Angel! You made it."

"Yeah," said Angel. Gunn got up and hugged the vampire. "It's good to see you man. You know, I was worried there for a bit, about what death was going to be like, but this place isn't so bad."

Charles stared at the god. "You know, for such a bad dude you don't look that scary."

"I'm a pussy cat," said Loki. "Really, whatever those guys said about me, it's probably not true. I am a frequent victim of slander and misunderstandings."

"They said you're a liar."

"I am, but aren't we all? Really, what kind of trickster would I be if I didn't lie? Mostly little white lies for the good of us all. Maybe the occasional nasty black lie. Honest."

"Uh huh."

"Look," said Angel interjecting, "he says he's going to bring us back to life."

"Well, not me personally, not my department you understand, but that's the gist of it. New lives, continuing the good fight, all that jazz."

"And this will cost us what?" Gunn asked.

"A few things need doing. Nothing you wouldn't be inclined to do anyway, otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"Why us?" asked Gunn.

"Because we can loop hole you back to life and you're perfect for the job."

"What's the loop hole?"

"Can only resurrect the dead if they die by supernatural means. I don't have to remind you guys about how you checked out."

"Okay," said Gunn. "Angel?"

"Buffy's in trouble."

"Got it. Spike?"

"Free beer and I like being alive. Or unalive. Whatever."

"Okay, I'm in."

"What about Wesley and Illyria?" Angel asked.

Loki made a grimace of distaste. "Saving the worst for last. Well, a god's gotta do what a god's gotta do. Come on."

Hey cool, and Angel fic!

And did you say Ragnarok Cowboys? That's the best name ever.

I'm a bit curious as to where gods go when THEY die. Is Illyria playing cards with Cthulhu somewhere? Part of me wonders if its going to be reincarnation rather than resurrection, with the way Loki said 'New Lives'.

Should be interesting.

"Hey, that hurts. Who does team Norse turn to when things get rough? It's always 'hey Loki, we need a cunning plan.' And do I get any of the credit? No, all you mortals are busy giving the credit to Thor. Who do you think commissioned his hammer and got it on the cheap, I might add? What am I, chopped liver?" He shook his head. "Mortals."

Is that a Prometheus reference or just my imagination?
Interesting Fic so far (How I do love Norse Mythology)

DEATH wrote: Is that a Prometheus reference or just my imagination?

It's a reference to the typical pattern of North myth: gods get into trouble, Loki comes up with a plan, the gods agree, Loki's plan doesn't quite work, the gods demand Loki fixes it, Loki improvises and succeeds, and then Thor kills the bad guys with Mjollnar and is the big hero.

Me=Liking this.

Very nice stuff. I'll definitely be checkin' in on this one.

My my my... You're such a busy little boy, arent' you ImpO? How many other stories in how many other realms are cooking in that brilliant little mind of yours?


I'm waiting to see where this goes, and where Loki gets it wrong LOL!

Loki knocked on a wooden door. "Yo."

"Leave us," replied a cold and imperious female voice. "We do not desire company."

Loki turned back to Angel and shrugged. "Demon Kings. What can to do?" The door was consumed in a brilliant flash of light, leaving only charred flinders.

"That was a rhetorical question, right?" asked Spike.

Loki didn't reply, instead walking into a large bedroom furnished in paleobarbaric. "Illyria," he said smiling.

The former demon king rose up from where she had been crouching beside the bed. Wesley was lying in the bed, with a fur covering him. "You dare?" Illyria asked.

"Yeah, I dare," replied Loki. "What, no nice words for your friends?"

Illyria's armour creaked slightly as she advanced on Loki. "I remember you. You were small, weak. You thought you were clever. You were not worth tormenting."

"Times change. Look at you. Once the big, bad demon king of ummm. . . . jeez, I can't fucking remember, almost as if its been wiped off the face of the planet. Fast forward a million years of being trapped in a sarcophagus as dust and you're barely more than mortal." Loki smiled. "On the other hand, I've become respectable. Blood brother to the Odin even. Oh yeah, and powerful." White teeth gleamed.

"I grow tired of your insolence," Illyria said and swung at Loki. Quick as a mongoose the god caught her arm and twisted. Bones broke with and audible crack.

"I'm a god, you stupid half mortal bitch." He twisted some more. More cracks. "A god. And you don't have any of your time bending mojo anymore. Which makes you both weak and stupid for taking a swing at me." He let go of her and flicked his fingers. The former demon king catapulted into the wall with enough force to break human bones. She slid to the floor. "Anyone else with a deep seated need to prove themselves the top dog, because I am the sire of wolves badder you could ever dream of being."

"Father of the monsterbruden," said Wesley Wyndam-Pryce as he struggled to sit up in bed.

Loki cocked his fingers into pistols. "Go it in one. Nice to see you're up Wyndam-Price."

"Illyria."

The former demon king regained her feet. "I will not forgive this."

"Babe," said Loki, "wrathful demi-mortals are the least of my problems. And I'm way out of your league." Wesley struggled to get out of bed. "Don't sweat it Wyndam-Price, she'll be fine. Wouldn't be smart to bust her up before sending her on the dangerous mission and I'm Cunning Loki, not Stupid Loki."

"Look," said Angel, "I'm sure you don't need us around to talk about how clever you are, so why don't you tell us what the deal is?" Wesley slid over to Illyria and half supported her.

"As I said," Loki explained, "your ex-girlfriend and her crew have taken a few wrong steps. Ragnarok, or in your speak, the Apocalypse are on the horizon and both vampires with souls are out of play. Not such a good thing."

"The Norse don't fair so well in Ragnarok," said Wesley. "Most of you die. And aren't you supposed to be chained up under a viper?"

"This is what happens when the Christians get a hold of your story," said Loki. "Before you can blink they've equated you with Satan and have you murdering Christ, sorry Baldur, and chained up in Hell. Yeah, Ragnarok turns out bad for us. As written. If everything goes according to the prophecy. There is, however, a little wiggle room and where's there's wiggle room there's a job for Loki."

"So what is it exactly that you want from us?" Wesley asked.

"Yeah," said Spike, "what do you want? And why the bloody hell should we give it to you?" He grabbed a cigarette and fumbled around for a lighter.

A small blue flame appeared on the tip of Loki's finger. "Thanks mate," said Spike as he lit the cigarette and took a puff. "That doesn't mean I'm going to help you."

"Simple," said Loki. "We want you to do your usual shtick. Kick evil in the balls and wreck their stuff. You'll have a bit of a grace period because the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart think you're dead, their top agents on Earth are dead, and some of their best soldiers are dead. Their is one really important favor we want before you go back to living your lives and it isn't one that you'll even mind doing."

"Buffy," said Angel.

"Yeah. She and her army are going to wrong way and that little weasel bastard Andrew is part of it. We want you to set them back on the straight and narrow, and perhaps you know, help the good guys win during the Apocalypse before they end up as Wolfram & Hart part two. See, nothing bad. Oh, I almost forgot. Illyria will get to kill a lots of people who annoy her."

"And we're supposed to take your word for it?" asked Wesley. "Loki the Trickster?"

"Loki the provider of Thor's badass hammer," the god shot back. "Naaa, you're not relying on my word. I'm just handling the first part of the show. Heimdall's got the next part."

Imperial Overlord wrote: There is, however, a little wiggle room and where's there's wiggle room there's a job for Loki.

That was an excellent line!

I wonder what Loki wants them to do. Will they depower the Slayer army, or will they restrain and focus it?

Wesley may be able to find some living Watchers and get a few things done, too.

I think depowering the Slayer Army might just be a tad madness. If they get word that it's going on, I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that.

Tread carefully. Keep in mind that the Buffyverse (and really, all of Joss Whedon's writings) revolve around the concept of female empowerment.

:sigh:

There's a reason I stopped considering Post Season 7 Fanfic ideas when Season 8 was announced...

Majin Gojira wrote:Tread carefully. Keep in mind that the Buffyverse (and really, all of Joss Whedon's writings) revolve around the concept of female empowerment.

You might have noticed that Loki has never once mentioned depowering the Slayer army. He's merely said its moving in a bad direction, which is obvious to anyone who watched the last season of Angel.

Neither did I, but having a male authority assert itself over the slayers would be the worst way to handle it. I can think of at least one way to 'inform' them in an interesting manner that would not have them belittled, but it's delicate.

And again, I cite the soon-to-be-published Season 8 comics as the source of any possible reasons for their behavior. They will not have the same amount of information as the normal viewer on any given situation. Hell, even the info given by Andrew in his Season 5 Appearances is Deliberate Disinformation at this point. Buffy's got 2 body doubles runing around to keep her enemies from tracking her down.

It's hard to tell where things stand, really.

Majin Gojira wrote:snip.

Fuck that retcon bullshit. Whedon can wreck his universe anyway he wants to. He completely jumped the Buffy shark by allowing Andrew to become a good guy and that he was trusted by the Slayers was monumentally stupid. He's a cowardly, self interested betrayer who is willing to murder his friends when he's told lies he wants to believe.

Needless to say, I will be offering a different interpretation of events and consequences.

Wait, you hate Andrew, stating him to be a cowardly, backstabbing, betrayer--yet are willing to treat his information as reliable?

Okay...

I better brace myself for the other common assumptions about Season 7 that the actual comics dispelled then, shouldn't I?

But, whatever, I'm still interested in how you'll do it.

Majin Gojira wrote:Wait, you hate Andrew, stating him to be a cowardly, backstabbing, betrayer--yet are willing to treat his information as reliable?

It has nothing to do with trusting what Andrew said and everything to do with the Slayers behaved. He's a man who has betrayed his friends on multiple occasions, including with murder. To say he's scum would be generous. Putting him in any position of responsibility is both stupid and irresponsible and the Slayers themselves were hardly good allies when the Angel crew could have used some.

Those are very bad signs for a supposed force for good. I don't care at all about post hoc rationalizations and retcons. This is my own take on the matter.

That I understand, I'm just sayin' that if you are going to treat him like that, you should also not base your assumptions on the Slayers organization (which we have no official name for yet) on what he was saying. IE: The Immortal would remain Disinformation; As would all that he said regarding the 'current' status of Buffy's crew.

'least that's how I'd figure it.

"Speaking of Heimdall, now would be a good for you to make an appearance," said Loki. He looked around. No one had appeared. "Real funny. Get your ass over here."

"Okay," said a man striding out of shadows in the corner of the room. He was tall and muscular, with tussled dark hair and a neat mustache and beard. He wore a black trench coat with a horn slung across his body and a sword belted around his waist. Loki turned and raised an eyebrow. Heimdall stared back.

"Right," said Loki. "Heimdall's going to take you on the Bifrost express way. Next stop Slayer central."

"You presume much in believing I will do your will," said Illyria.

"Babe, I don't want you to do my will," said Loki. "The All-Father trusts you to do the right thing, once you know about the problem. We're just telling you about the problem and taking you to it. After that, the ball is in your court."

"Alright," said Angel. "We're doing this, but on our terms."

"Angel, we're the Norse gods. Sure we hit people with axes, but we like free men. Do it your way, that's fine with us. We just care that it gets done and everything gets straightened out. Ragnarok is coming and, the occasional nasty prophecy aside, intend to win. Nothing that you are going to have a problem with."

"We can live with that," said Gunn.

"Let's hurry up and get the bloody show on the road," said Spike.

"See you later Loki," said Heimdall. The room filled with rainbow light and the room vanished. Everyone except Loki found themselves standing on a bridge of light that traversed a dark void.

"Bloody hell," said Spike. "You could warn a body before zapping him off to God knows where."

"Yes," said Heimdall

"What?"

"I am a god and I do know where we are."

"Funny," said Spike as he fished into his coat pocket for another cigarette. He flicked the stub of the last one into the void. Heimdall growled.

"What?"

"Don't litter."

Spike considered saying something. Heimdall glared. Spike shut up.

"How did you do that?" Angel asked.

"I'm a god."

"Oh. Doesn't the fact that no one worships you anymore kind of cramp your game?"

"Does it bother you that when you were alive your gut bacteria didn't worship you?"

"Uh. . . "

"Exactly. Not important. Same thing with humans. Worship matters to them, their actions matter to us. And the cosmos."

"Ahh, I think."

"How do all those people end up in Valhalla?" Wesley asked.

"They belong there," said Heimdall. "They are the Chosen of the Slain, the Einherjar, those who will fight to preserve all the worlds of men, elves, and gods at Ragnarok. What beliefs they held in life matters to them, not to us."

"Even if they're say Nazis?"

"Would you include die hard Nazis in an army drawn from every race of man on the planet and expect good results?"

"No."

"Although it is fun to see the Israelis and the WW two Germans go at in practice. We're here."

"Where?" asked Angel. Rainbow light flashed. They appeared at the end of a trash strewn alley.

"Cleveland. The other Hellmouth. Slayer central." He tossed Spike a roll of cash. "Beer money. Courtesy of Loki. You should see him at Vegas." He tossed a small satchel to Angel. "Driver's licenses, credit cards, lease on an apartments, keys, all that stuff. Also courtesy of Loki."

"I do not trust him," said Illyria. "He is a treacherous little thing that has moved beyond his station."

"No one trusts Loki, except maybe Odin and the All-Father plays nastier games than anyone else alive. He also sees all."

"And you?" asked Spike. "I know you don't trust the bastard. You content to play his errand boy?"

"I am the guardian of the Bifrost Bridge," said Heimdall. "Nothing gets past me. Nothing."

"Even Loki?" Angel asked.

"I can hear grass growing," said Heimdall. "I don't worry about Loki, I watch him." He tossed a small leather satchel to Wesley. "From the All-Father."

"And the rest of us?" asked Gunn.

"The apartment will have what you need or you can acquire it on your own. You're champions, you don't need us to hold your hands." He vanished in a shimmering display of rainbow light.

"Do you think we can trust them?" Wesley asked.

"I don't know," said Angel, "but if Buffy is in trouble I'm going to help."

"Even if they're say Nazis?"

"Would you include die hard Nazis in an army drawn from every race of man on the planet and expect good results?"

"No."

"Although it is fun to see the Israelis and the WW two Germans go at in practice."

Fucking awesome .

Good chapter, though I see a foreshadowed fall for Heimdall, courtesy of Loki

Someone should really ask Loki what actually happened to Baldur.

Just want to add, I love your interpretation of the Norse Gods. Reminds me of that Clive-Barker-y guardian demon, whathisface. Down to earth fellows, but fully aware that they are gods.