Back In The Thunder God's Chambers...
As the alien sight of a massive eight-legged horse grabbed the attention of so many of the students – and surely one or two of the faculty – Victor Creed continued to slumber in the bed reserved for another blonde; one of divine and thunderous might. After his time with Loki had passed, the marvel of his healing factor unthawed frozen organs and soothed the blisters and burns the frost left on his skin. Thanks to the trickster’s “thoughtfulness”, Creed slept naked – his clothes magically melted into nothingness – and all of his expansive, hairy physique sprawled across the king sized mattress, more content than a king could ever be.
This was a rare moment for Victor where the dreams he encountered in his sleep were entirely that of joy – the drool dribbling out the corner of his mouth was an embarrassing giveaway to how comfortable he was. In this lucid state, Victor lived happily with two blue skinned lovers at his side, and his pretty pink petunia that called him “Papa”. These magical creatures became his family; the three escorted him across the galaxy, exploring new worlds while periodically pummeling the many that challenged their combined might.
It was bliss. A beautiful, dangerous< bliss….
These dreams were what kept Creed from opening his eyes when rays of light rained in the room. He snored and subconsciously eased his shoulders into the mattress as the shape of a man contorted it. It went away as quick as it arrived, and Heimdall said not a word as he stood at the opposite end of the room.
For now, the Watcher stayed true to his title and merely observed. However, in his hands – and the blade pointed to the floor – was his iconic broadsword. His posture was both relaxed and ready, and silently, Heimdall stared at Creed with the same vigilance that he watched the rest of the universe with.