Starchild

Home

Midgard - or Earth, for its habitants and guests - is home to many beings. No matter how big or small they are, or their power, or the time period they exist in, they all look at the blue sky of the blue world and know it's their blue world. They belong there, and they're meant to enjoy their planet.

I think I enjoy their planet as well.

The small portal opens inside my room, and it closes immediately. It's night outside, and only Django is here, sleeping on his green bed. It looks huge compared to him. It's almost comical. He wakes up, and notices me, sleepily running over to me.

Kneeling down, I cup my hands to hold him. —Hey, boy. I won't be leaving like this again, okay? —he ignores me, falling asleep in my hands, —You're a rude boy. —but I softly kiss his head, and stand up, keeping him near me.

Some stars in the sky can be seen from my window. Wong has said they are more visible in the countryside, because New York has too much air pollution, but I can still recognise some constellations the witches taught me.

The door suddenly slams open, so I turn around, finding the wizards and the agents suited up and confused.

Strange puts his guard down. —Oh, we felt another door open-—

—Yes, that was me. Be quiet though, Django is sleeping. —

Victoire narrows her eyes and walks up to me, locking her eyes with mine through the darkness. She notices their colour, and raises her eyebrows. —I thought you were going to evade being queen somehow, what happened? —

I shrug. —I made sure the queen wasn't that important. —I start walking to the door, gently petting Django, —So now I don't need to decide everything and, since I know you're wondering, demons will not hurt anyone else. —I turn to the wizards, —I will keep staying on Earth, this room is still mine, right? —

—Of course. —Wong is the first to reply. —You already made yourself at home. —

Strange adds, —And, our deal was you'll stay until the Asgard thing ends. Not the Hell thing. God, your kingdoms are so messy. —he jokes, and then he points at Barney, —But not you though, you don't have to stay anymore. —

—Ouch. —he puts his hand on his chest, —Rude. I'll stay for a few more days and you're not stopping me, your AC is great and mine is broken. —he doesn't let Strange answer, instead starting to walk down the hall, —Star, come on, we were in the middle of dinner. —

I carefully leave Django on his bed, and we walk to the kitchen.

It's been about two weeks since I arrived on Earth. Two weeks since I met the wizards, and the agents, and the X-Men, and a week since I found Django. Now that I won't be bothered anymore, and I am free to stay on Earth for as long as I want, I am more than thankful for having met them. It was luck, in all honesty. It had to be magic - there is no other explanation for the flourishing of such friendships.

Friendships?

Wong hands me a plate, —I cooked extra pasta in case you were back tonight. —he sits down, —If you weren't, it would have been Barney's. —

I grab the fork and imitate the others, wrapping the pasta around it.

—He's like a garbage can, he always eats any leftover food. —Victoire adds, and Barney tries to deny the accusation, but she threatens him with her own fork. He gives up.

—By the way, Star, —Strange starts, —We had a question for you. —

I hum, —I did too. —

—Oh. Ask first then, ours is a little complicated. —he makes a hand gesture telling me to go on, and continues eating,