st_ormbreaker | (no subject)

Thor's hold on Tony's hand tightens briefly with both a sudden sense of protectiveness and a sudden sense of fear. He was under the impression that these funhouse mirrors were supposed to be fun, but now, it felt more like something out of one of those Midgardian horror films.

Thor mentally deliberates whether or not he should scout ahead, but remembers what happens in horror films when people split up.

Thor glances over at Tony is on the verge of opening his mouth when he catches sight of another Tony in the reflection opposite him. He looks younger and his hair and clothes are different from what Tony is wearing now, but it's very obviously Tony.

"Tony?" Thor repeats hesitantly, still looking at the reflection.

"Yeah-huh. I'll look in a second" His free hand was digging around in his pocket for a caffeine shot he'd come armed with. It was minutes to lights out with the way the floors, pockmarked with scuffs and all, were starting to look like a fine place to nap.

While his profile turned towards the mirror, the image of a younger, sprier Tony Stark was facing Thor head-on, squinting back. He gave a little puzzled head-shake as if asking why the man was staring in the first place, lightly touching his facial hair in question to inquire if anything was stuck in it.

Thor lets go of Tony's hand and cautiously approaches the mirror, waiting and expecting his own image to replace what he's sure is a figment of his imagination.

It doesn't happen.

As soon as he's within arm's reach of the reflection, he reaches out and taps the mirror right where the other Tony's forehead still stands, fully expecting the illusion to dissolve right then and there as so many of Loki's had when he conjured them as a child.

The surface of polished glass and aluminum was flat against Thor's fingers, producing a little tip tap at the contact. The image of Tony was still as Thor approached, even stiller as he attempted to touch him directly.

Then, he tapped back, making the surface tremble.

Thor immediately jerks his hand back. "Oh my god!"

And with those three words uttered, Thor stumbles backwards, narrowly avoiding a collision with Tony; his back slams hard against a wall of mirrors behind him.

“Hey, hey!” Tony, fueled by caffeine and adrenaline at the explosion of shattering glass, shot after Thor and braced his hands on his husband’s arms. Shards of glass laid strewn about, and he guided Thor away from them. “You alright?”

Thor doesn't answer the question. Instead, he jerks himself out of Tony's grip and positions himself in front of him, a barrier between him and whoever might be creating these illusions (if they are illusions!) or whatever magical beings might truly exist behind the glass.

"It's unsafe here," he says, and he suddenly becomes acutely aware of Tony's vulnerability right now without the arc reactor. "We've got to move."

The sooner they were out of here, the sooner he'd be sure that Tony would be safe.

“We just got here.” Tony tried to step out from behind him only to get blocked with every attempt. “It’s just a little glass. We’ll head on through, alert the staff, they’ll take a broom to it.”

Thor spins around to face Tony, his shoulders squared as if to form a barrier between Tony and whatever might exist behind him.

"It isn't the glass that is dangerous."

From behind Thor stands another man in the mirror, his hair long and both eyes blue. He wears a ceremonial armor, gleaming a shiny gold. He looks at them with narrowed eyes, incredulous, as if he can't believe what he's seeing before him. He lets out a soundless laugh.

Peering out just over his shoulder, Tony blinked. Then when that first blink didn’t work, he blinked again.

Nope, the mirror image the same—and not a mirror image. Tony slowly lowered back down onto his flat foot, rubbing both eyes quietly before looking again.

Thor's brows furrow as Tony rubs his eyes and he looks over his shoulder to find --

himself

-- staring back at him.

Thor lets out a startled yelp of surprise and he spins around; by reflex, he begins to extend his arm to summon Stormbreaker until it occurs to him that he left it back at the inn and he's not entirely sure his reach goes across dimensions.

He's also not sure if Tony would approve of the wanton destruction that would inevitably be caused if he could summon it.

"Tell me who you are," Thor demands of it. He's utterly convinced that this mirror being is some sort of shapechanger, here to steal to shift forms between him and Tony.

“Someone wanna tell Ben Hur to cool it on set?” The Stark-alike piped up from a mirror right behind the pair, brushing himself off as if he’d gotten dust on his suit.

‘Hello darkness my old friend.’ Even while Thor seemed to share in the hallucination, Tony wasn’t sure he wasn’t still losing it.

Thor spins around, assessing the threat. Two versus Two. Thor wasn't exactly sure how Tony did in combat without the suit, but Thor was ready to do what he could to protect the both of them.

"Thor, Son of Odin," his double says from his mirror with considerable bombast. Did Thor always sound like that? Thor isn't sure. "Or have you forgotten what you used to look like?"

"Haven't forgotten, no," Thor answers cautiously.

"You've certainly made a mess of your hair. And your face." The other-Thor squints at him, the way he so often squints at things. "Is that your real eye?"

While Thor entertained the back-and-forth, Tony could feel his own eyes on the back of his head. He buried his face in his hands, murmuring a series of cool but denial-filled 'no's' under his breath. 'Kringle Christ, please. I didn't ask for this. Wasn't the ghost of despair's future enough?'

Blessedly, the younger image of himself disappeared from behind him, though he re-appeared in the mirror adjacent to the cocky Thor's. "Oh, you two were supposed to be the same person. Lost the drapes, gained the eyebrows."

Thor leans his head back, his eyes tightly shut. Why was this happening?

"You dare insult me?" the mirror-Thor snarls at the mirror-Tony. "I challenge you to come over here and say that to me directly."

Thor can't decide if he'd rather this have been a true enemy than some sort of conjuration of their past selves. Right now, he's leaning more towards the former than he is the latter.

"Yeah, pass, pretty sure I'm getting frosted tips just looking at you."

"And we are leaving." Tony twisted his hand in the back of Thor's jacket and yanked.

The mirror Thor does not appear to have the slightest clue what the mirror Tony is going on about -- but he can obviously read from the tone of his voice that he's being insulted again.

Just as Tony yanks Thor back, the Mirror Thor slams against the mirror, enough so that the mirror vibrates visibly.

"You don't think they can break out, do you?" Thor asks as he jogs alongside Tony; the hall of mirrors is a veritable maze -- there doesn't appear to be any straight way out of it.

“You can take ‘em.” Clipped assurances and general head-spinning confusion aside, the overwhelming drive to escape overwhelmed the odd neurological stress he’d been under.

“So, I live long enough to grow the gray, eh?” The mirror image of himself piped up along each successive mirror they passed, managing a word per mirror.

Thor throws a protective arm over Tony's shoulder as he quickens his pace. He briefly considers breaking through the ceiling, but he's not entirely sure that Tony would approve. He doubts the staff would for sure.

Mirror Thor skulks along, keeping easy pace with the Mirror Tony, who he refuses to look away from. Thor suspects if he manages to make it to the other side, there will be a fight.

Thor's not exactly sure how to feel about that.

"That little faith in yourself?" he asks of the Mirror Tony.

Against his better judgement, Tony slowed in his steps to make eye-contact with his other self. Nostalgia -- originating from the Greek words for returning home and pain. A longing for the past, as it were. Yeah, nostalgia was the completely wrong feeling to attach to what arose inside him when he looked into his own eyes of 10 year past. Maybe if he'd had a little damn warning--

The mirror behind him rumbling like thunder with a mighty crack broke his state, and he spun around to face the image of Thor wielding Mjolnir to grimace. "Don't do that until the caffeine kicks in."

"Do not ignore me!" A crack was spidering out from the center of the mirror from where he'd presumably struck it. He raised his hammer again, but this time to point it at the external Thor in condemnation. "And you. You protect those who dare insult the throne?"

It's difficult for Thor to see his younger self, especially since ten years was barely the blink of an eye for an Asgardian. Had he really been like this such a short time ago?

He swallows back his embarrassment and pulls Tony a little closer to him. He only barely glances over his shoulder to call out to his longer-haired alter ego:

"I like this one." Thor continues moving forward, not missing even a single beat.

"You've grown soft!" the Mirror Thor spits back.

"Probably," Thor concedes. "But I fail to see the problem with that."

“I mean, if Point Break likes what he sees, he could bust his way out and y’all could...negotiate.” The Mirror-Tony helpfully piped up.

"Do I look to be in a gaming mood?" Mirror Thor demands, keeping pace with the Mirror Tony and their real world counterparts.

“Play games, have fun.” Tony’s younger visage disappeared and reappeared at the end of a hall to regard the pair straight-on, sizing the two of them up. “Now, you are a tall bastard. Not usually what I go for. Dying to hear that story.”

"Well," Thor begins, not particularly inclined to share that story. "I'll have you know, he --" Or is that you? Thor wonders. "-- is exactly my type: small, charming, brunette genius."

Thor plants a kiss to Tony's temple, just as Mirror Thor scoffs from two mirrors behind.