Another triple-combo
Thor smiled broadly as he felt the fingers twitch in his grip; he raised his eyes to Bobby and Baird and smiled warmly. "He hath awakened," he intoned with surprising softness before he cast his gaze back down to Ragnar's face.
Damon carefully kept watch as the EEG readout registered a faster heartbeat; he still wore his armor and had his snub pistol on hand just to be safe. The blue metal plating was light compared to the hulking ceramite of Ragnar's own suit, but Damon didn't feel jealous. That armor means his world was nothing to be jealous of. And the whole ten-millennia dark-age thing.
"You're in the infirmary, still at Xavier's," Drake then said as he smiled gratefully. He leaned forward. "We're monitoring you... seeing how your health is holding up," Bobby said. The cryokinetic didn't even spend time stealing peeks of that massively-built chest. "You're having a drug withdrawal... all the food they fed you back where you're from? It was laced with tons of drugs. Not the fun kind either."
Part of Bobby really wanted to gloat about this. So, your god turns out to be a Pusher Man. Yet he couldn't take pleasure in his friend's suffering. "Hormone regulators are just the start. Some of those drugs were used by our governments too... during the MK Ultra and Weapon X projects." He gulped as he mentioned the last name. "They weren't giving you huge amounts... just enough to make you more easy to influence."
"Whoever runs your world should get in touch with the people in charge of mine," Damon rasped bitterly; "they'd get along like a fuckin' house on fire."