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Couch surfer in his 30s. Oscar winner in his 40s. Why the whole world wants Taika

**Notes: This is very long post!**

Good Weekend

In his 30s, he was sleeping on couches. By his 40s, he’d directed a Kiwi classic, taken a Marvel movie to billion-dollar success, and won an Oscar. Meet Taika Waititi, king of the oddball – and one of New Zealand’s most original creative exports.

Taika Waititi: “Be a nice person and live a good life. And just don’t be an arsehole.”

The good news? Taika Waititi is still alive. I wasn’t sure. The screen we were speaking through jolted savagely a few minutes ago, with a cacophonous bang and a confused yelp, then radio silence. Now the Kiwi filmmaker is back, grinning like a loon: “I just broke the f---ing table, bro!”

Come again? “I just smashed this f---ing table and glass flew everywhere. It’s one of those old annoying colonial tables. It goes like this – see that?” Waititi says, holding up a folding furniture leg. “I hit the mechanism and it wasn’t locked. Anyway …”

I’m glad he’s fine. The stuff he’s been saying from his London hotel room could incur biblical wrath. We’re talking about his latest project, Next Goal Wins, a movie about the American Samoa soccer team’s quest to score a solitary goal, 10 years after suffering the worst loss in the game’s international history – a 31-0 ignominy to Australia – but our chat strays into spirituality, then faith, then religion.

“I don’t personally believe in a big guy sitting on a cloud judging everyone, but that’s just me,” Waititi says, deadpan. “Because I’m a grown-up.”

This is the way his interview answers often unfold. Waititi addresses your topic – dogma turns good people bad, he says, yet belief itself is worth lauding – but bookends every response with a conspiratorial nudge, wink, joke or poke. “Regardless of whether it’s some guy living on a cloud, or some other deity that you’ve made up – and they’re all made up – the message across the board is the same, and it’s important: Be a nice person, and live a good life. And just don’t be an arsehole!”

Not being an arsehole seems to have served Waititi, 48, well. Once a national treasure and indie darling (through the quirky tenderness of his breakout New Zealand films Boy in 2010 and Hunt for the Wilderpeople in 2016), Waititi then became a star of both the global box office (through his 2017 entry into the Marvel Universe, Thor: Ragnarok, which grossed more than $1.3 billion worldwide) and then the Academy Awards (winning the 2020 best adapted screenplay Oscar for his subversive Holocaust dramedy JoJo Rabbit, in which he played an imaginary Hitler).

Waititi playing Adolf Hitler in the 2019 movie JoJo Rabbit. (Alamy)

A handsome devil with undeniable roguish charm, Waititi also slid seamlessly into style-icon status (attending this year’s Met Gala shirtless, in a floor-length gunmetal-grey Atelier Prabal Gurung wrap coat, with pendulous pearl necklaces), as well as becoming his own brand (releasing an eponymous line of canned coffee drinks) and bona fide Hollywood A-lister (he was introduced to his second wife, British singer Rita Ora, by actor Robert Pattinson at a barbecue).

Putting that platform to use, Waititi is an Indigenous pioneer and mentor, too, co-creating the critically acclaimed TV series Reservation Dogs, while co-founding the Piki Films production company, committed to promoting the next generation of storytellers – a mission that might sound all weighty and worthy, yet Waititi’s new wave of First Nations work is never earnest, always mixing hurt with heart and howling humour.

Waititi with wife Rita Ora at the 2023 Met Gala in May. (Getty Images)

Makes sense. Waititi is a byproduct of “the weirdest coupling ever” – his late Maori father from the Te Whanau-a-Apanui tribe was an artist, farmer and “Satan’s Slaves” bikie gang founder, while his Wellington schoolteacher mum descended from Russian Jews, although he’s not devout about her faith. (“No, I don’t practise,” he confirms. “I’m just good at everything, straight away.”)

He’s remained loyally tethered to his origin story, too – and to a cadre of creative Kiwi mates, including actors Jemaine Clement and Rhys Darby – never forgetting that not long before the actor/writer/producer/director was an industry maven, he was a penniless painter/photographer/ musician/comedian.

With no set title and no fixed address, he’s seemingly happy to be everything, everywhere (to everyone) all at once. “‘The universe’ is bandied around a lot these days, but I do believe in the kind of connective tissue of the universe, and the energy that – scientifically – we are made up of a bunch of atoms that are bouncing around off each other, and some of the atoms are just squished together a bit tighter than others,” he says, smiling. “We’re all made of the same stardust, and that’s pretty special.”

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We’ve caught Waititi in a somewhat relaxed moment, right before the screen actors’ and media artists’ strike ends. He’s sensitive to the struggle but doesn’t deny enjoying the break. “I spent a lot of time thinking about writing, and not writing, and having a nice holiday,” he tells Good Weekend. “Honestly, it was a good chance just to recombobulate.”

Waititi, at right, with Hunt for the Wilderpeople actors, from left, Sam Neill, Rhys Darby and Julian Dennison. (Getty Images)

It’s mid-October, and he’s just headed to Paris to watch his beloved All Blacks in the Rugby World Cup. He’s deeply obsessed with the game, and sport in general. “Humans spend all of our time knowing what’s going to happen with our day. There’s no surprises any more. We’ve become quite stagnant. And I think that’s why people love sport, because of the air of unpredictability,” he says. “It’s the last great arena entertainment.”

The main filmic touchstone for Next Goal Wins (which premieres in Australian cinemas on New Year’s Day) would be Cool Runnings (1993), the unlikely true story of a Jamaican bobsled team, but Waititi also draws from genre classics such as Any Given Sunday and Rocky, sampling trusted tropes like the musical training montage. (His best one is set to Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears.)

Filming in Hawaii was an uplifting experience for the self-described Polynesian Jew. “It wasn’t about death, or people being cruel to each other. Thematically, it was this simple idea, of getting a small win, and winning the game wasn’t even their goal – their goal was to get a goal,” he says. “It was a really sweet backbone.”

Waititi understands this because, growing up, he was as much an athlete as a nerd, fooling around with softball and soccer before discovering rugby league, then union. “There’s something about doing exercise when you don’t know you’re doing exercise,” he enthuses. “It’s all about the fun of throwing a ball around and trying to achieve something together.” (Whenever Waititi is in Auckland he joins his mates in a long-running weekend game of touch rugby. “And then throughout the week I work out every day. Obviously. I mean, look at me.”)

Auckland is where his kids live, too, so he spends as much time there as possible. Waititi met his first wife, producer Chelsea Winstanley, on the set of Boy in 2010, and they had two daughters, Matewa Kiritapu, 8, and his firstborn, Te Kainga O’Te Hinekahu, 11. (The latter is a derivative of his grandmother’s name, but he jokes with American friends that it means “Resurrection of Tupac” or “Mazda RX7″) Waititi and Winstanley split in about 2018, and he married the pop star Ora in 2022.

He offers a novel method for balancing work with parenthood … “Look, you just abandon them, and know that the experience will make them harder individuals later on in life. And it’s their problem,” he says. “I’m going to give them all of the things that they need, and I’m going to leave behind a decent bank account for their therapy, and they will be just like me, and the cycle will continue.”

Jokes aside – I think he’s joking – school holidays are always his, and he brings the girls onto the set of every movie he makes. “They know enough not to get in the way or touch anything that looks like it could kill you, and they know to be respectful and quiet when they need to. But they’re just very comfortable around filmmakers, which I’m really happy about, because eventually I hope they will get into the industry. One more year,” he laughs, “then they can leave school and come work for Dad.”

Theirs is certainly a different childhood than his. Growing up, he was a product of two worlds. His given names, for instance, were based on his appearance at birth: “Taika David” if he looked Maori (after his Maori grandfather) and “David Taika” if he looked Pakeha (after his white grandfather). His parents split when he was five, so he bounced between his dad’s place in Waihau Bay, where he went by the surname Waititi, and his mum, eight hours drive away in Wellington, where he went by Cohen (the last name on his birth certificate and passport).

Waititi was precocious, even charismatic. His mother Robin once told Radio New Zealand that people always wanted to know him, even as an infant: “I’d be on a bus with him, and he was that kind of baby who smiled at people, and next thing you know they’re saying, ‘Can I hold your baby?’ He’s always been a charmer to the public eye.”

He describes himself as a cool, sporty, good-looking nerd, raised on whatever pop culture screened on the two TV channels New Zealand offered in the early 1980s, from M*A*S*H and Taxi to Eddie Murphy and Michael Jackson. He was well-read, too. When punished by his mum, he would likely be forced to analyse a set of William Blake poems.

He puts on a whimpering voice to describe their finances – “We didn’t have much monneeey” – explaining how his mum spent her days in the classroom but also worked in pubs, where he would sit sipping a raspberry lemonade, doodling drawings and writing stories. She took in ironing and cleaned houses; he would help out, learning valuable lessons he imparts to his kids. “And to random people who come to my house,” he says. “I’ll say, ‘Here’s a novel idea, wash this dish,’ but people don’t know how to do anything these days.”

“Every single character I’ve ever written has been based on someone I’ve known or met or a story I’ve stolen from someone.” - Taika Waititi

He loved entertaining others, clearly, but also himself, recording little improvised radio plays on a tape deck – his own offbeat versions of ET and Indiana Jones and Star Wars. “Great free stuff where you don’t have any idea what the story is as you’re doing it,” he says. “You’re just sort of making it up and enjoying the freedom of playing god in this world where you can make people and characters do whatever you want.”

His other sphere of influence lay in Raukokore, the tiny town where his father lived. Although Boy is not autobiographical, it’s deeply personal insofar as it’s filmed in the house where he grew up, and where he lived a life similar to that portrayed in the story, surrounded by his recurring archetypes: warm grandmothers and worldly kids; staunch, stoic mums; and silly, stunted men. “Every single character I’ve ever written has been based on someone I’ve known or met,” he says, “or a story I’ve stolen from someone.”

He grew to love drawing and painting, obsessed early on with reproducing the Sistine Chapel. During a 2011 TED Talk on creativity, Waititi describes his odd subject matter, from swastikas and fawns to a picture of an old lady going for a walk … upon a sword … with Robocop. “My father was an outsider artist, even though he wouldn’t know what that meant,” Waititi told the audience in Doha. “I love the naive. I love people who can see things through an innocent viewpoint. It’s inspiring.”

After winning Best Adapted Screenplay Academy Award for JoJo Rabbit in 2020. (Getty Images)

It was an interesting time in New Zealand, too – a coming-of-age decade in which the Maori were rediscovering their culture. His area was poor, “but only financially,” he says. “It’s very rich in terms of the people and the culture.” He learned kapa haka – the songs, dances and chants performed by competing tribes at cultural events, or to honour people at funerals and graduations – weddings, parties, anything. “Man, any excuse,” he explains. “A big part of doing them is to uplift your spirits.”

Photography was a passion, so I ask what he shot. “Just my penis. I sent them to people, but we didn’t have phones, so I would print them out, post them. One of the first dick pics,” he says. Actually, his lens was trained on regular people. He watches us still – in airports, restaurants. “Other times late at night, from a tree. Whatever it takes to get the story. You know that.”

He went to the Wellington state school Onslow College and did plays like Androcles and the Lion, A Midsummer Night’s Dream and The Crucible. His crew of arty students eventually ended up on stage at Bats Theatre in the city, where they would perform haphazard comedy shows for years.

“Taika was always rebellious and wild in his comedy, which I loved,” says his high school mate Jackie van Beek, who became a longtime collaborator, including working with Waititi on a Tourism New Zealand campaign this year. “I remember he went through a phase of turning up in bars around town wearing wigs, and you’d try and sit down and have a drink with him but he’d be doing some weird character that would invariably turn up in some show down the track.”

He met more like-minded peers at Victoria University, including Jemaine Clement (who’d later become co-creator of Flight of the Conchords). During a 2019 chat with actor Elijah Wood, Waititi describes he and Clement clocking one another from opposite sides of the library one day: a pair of Maoris experiencing hate at first sight, based on a mutual suspicion of cultural appropriation. (Clement was wearing a traditional tapa cloth Samoan shirt, and Waititi was like: “This motherf---er’s not Samoan.” Meanwhile, Waititi was wearing a Rastafarian beanie, and Clement was like, “This motherf---er’s not Jamaican.”)

With Jemaine Clement in 2014. (Getty Images)

But they eventually bonded over Blackadder and Fawlty Towers, and especially Kenny Everett, and did comedy shows together everywhere from Edinburgh to Melbourne. Waititi was almost itinerant, spending months at a time busking, or living in a commune in Berlin. He acted in a few small films, and then – while playing a stripper on a bad TV show – realised he wanted to try life behind the camera. “I became tired of being told what to do and ordered around,” he told Wellington’s Dominion Post in 2004. “I remember sitting around in the green room in my G-string thinking, ‘Why am I doing this? Just helping someone else to realise their dream.’ ”

He did two strong short films, then directed his first feature – Eagle vs Shark (2007) – when he was 32. He brought his mates along (Clement, starring with Waititi’s then-girlfriend Loren Horsley), setting something of a pattern in his career: hiring friends instead of constantly navigating new working relationships. “If you look at things I’m doing,” he tells me, “there’s always a few common denominators.”

Sam Neill says Waititi is the exemplar of a new New Zealand humour. “The basis of it is this: we’re just a little bit crap at things.”

This gang of collaborators shares a common Kiwi vibe, too, which his longtime friend, actor Rhys Darby, once coined “the comedy of the mundane”. Their new TV show, Our Flag Means Death, for example, leans heavily into the mundanity of pirate life – what happens on those long days at sea when the crew aren’t unsheathing swords from scabbards or burying treasure.

Waititi plays pirate captain Blackbeard, centre, in Our Flag Means Death, with Rhys Darby, left, and Rory Kinnear. (Google Images)

Sam Neill, who first met Waititi when starring in Hunt for the Wilderpeople, says Waititi is the exemplar of a new New Zealand humour. “And I think the basis of it is this,” says Neill. “We’re just a little bit crap at things, and that in itself is funny.” After all, Neill asks, what is What We Do in The Shadows (2014) if not a film (then later a TV show) about a bunch of vampires who are pretty crap at being vampires, living in a pretty crappy house, not quite getting busted by crappy local cops? “New Zealand often gets named as the least corrupt country in the world, and I think it’s just that we would be pretty crap at being corrupt,” Neill says. “We don’t have the capacity for it.”

Waititi’s whimsy also spurns the dominant on-screen oeuvre of his homeland – the so-called “cinema of unease” exemplified by the brutality of Once Were Warriors (1994) and the emotional peril of The Piano (1993). Waititi still explores pathos and pain, but through laughter and weirdness. “Taika feels to me like an antidote to that dark aspect, and a gift somehow,” Neill says. “And I’m grateful for that.”

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Something happened to Taika Waititi when he was about 11 – something he doesn’t go into with Good Weekend, but which he considered a betrayal by the adults in his life. He mentioned it only recently – not the moment itself, but the lesson he learnt: “That you cannot and must not rely on grown-ups to help you – you’re basically in the world alone, and you’re gonna die alone, and you’ve just gotta make it all for yourself,” he told Irish podcast host James Brown. “I basically never forgave people in positions of responsibility.”

What does that mean in his work? First, his finest films tend to reflect the clarity of mind possessed by children, and the unseen worlds they create – fantasies conjured up as a way to understand or overcome. (His mum once summed up the main message of Boy: “The unconditional love you get from your children, and how many of us waste that, and don’t know what we’ve got.”)

Second, he’s suited to movie-making – “Russian roulette with art” – because he’s drawn to disruptive force and chaos. And that in turn produces creative defiance: allowing him to reinvigorate the Marvel Universe by making superheroes fallible, or tell a Holocaust story by making fun of Hitler. “Whenever I have to deal with someone who’s a boss, or in charge, I challenge them,” he told Brown, “and I really do take whatever they say with a pinch of salt.”

It’s no surprise then that Waititi was comfortable leaping from independent films to the vast complexity of Hollywood blockbusters. He loves the challenge of coordinating a thousand interlocking parts, requiring an army of experts in vocations as diverse as construction, sound, art, performance and logistics. “I delegate a lot,” he says, “and share the load with a lot of people.”

“This is a cool concept, being able to afford whatever I want, as opposed to sleeping on couches until I was 35.” - Taika Waititi

But the buck stops with him. Time magazine named Waititi one of its Most Influential 100 People of 2022. “You can tell that a film was made by Taika Waititi the same way you can tell a piece was painted by Picasso,” wrote Sacha Baron Cohen. Compassionate but comic. Satirical but watchable. Rockstar but auteur. “Actually, sorry, but this guy’s really starting to piss me off,” Cohen concluded. “Can someone else write this piece?”

Directing Chris Hemsworth in 2017 in Thor: Ragnarok, which grossed more than $1.3 billion at the box office. (Alamy)

I’m curious to know how he stays grounded amid such adulation. Coming into the game late, he says, helped immensely. After all, Waititi was 40 by the time he left New Zealand to do Thor: Ragnarok. “If you let things go to your head, then it means you’ve struggled to find out who you are,” he says. “But I’ve always felt very comfortable with who I am.” Hollywood access and acclaim – and the pay cheques – don’t erase memories of poverty, either. “It’s more like, ‘Oh, this is a cool concept, being able to afford whatever I want, as opposed to sleeping on couches until I was 35.’ ” Small towns and strong tribes keep him in check, too. “You know you can’t piss around and be a fool, because you’re going to embarrass your family,” he says. “Hasn’t stopped me, though.”

Sam Neill says there was never any doubt Waititi would be able to steer a major movie with energy and imagination. “It’s no accident that the whole world wants Taika,” he says. “But his seductiveness comes with its own dangers. You can spread yourself a bit thin. The temptation will be to do more, more, more. That’ll be interesting to watch.”

Indeed, I find myself vicariously stressed out over the list of potential projects in Waititi’s future. A Roald Dahl animated series for Netflix. An Apple TV show based on the 1981 film Time Bandits. A sequel to What We Do In The Shadows. A reboot of Flash Gordon. A gonzo horror comedy, The Auteur, starring Jude Law. Adapting a cult graphic novel, The Incal, as a feature. A streaming series based on the novel Interior Chinatown. A film based on a Kazuo Ishiguro bestseller. Plus bringing to life the wildly popular Akira comic books. Oh, and for good measure, a new instalment of Star Wars, which he’s already warned the world will be … different.

“It’s going to change things,” he told Good Morning America. “It’s going to change what you guys know and expect.”

Did I say I was stressed for Waititi? I meant physically sick.

“Well…” he qualifies, “some of those things I’m just producing, so I come up with an idea or someone comes to me with an idea, and I shape how ‘it’s this kind of show’ and ‘here’s how we can get it made.’ It’s easier for me to have a part in those things and feel like I’ve had a meaningful role in the creative process, but also not having to do what I’ve always done, which is trying to control everything.”

In the 2014 mockumentary horror film What We Do in the Shadows, which he co-directed with Jemaine Clement. (Alamy)

What about moving away from the niche New Zealand settings he represented so well in his early work? How does he stay connected to his roots? “I think you just need to know where you’re from,” he says, “and just don’t forget that.”

They certainly haven’t forgotten him.

Jasmin McSweeney sits in her office at the New Zealand Film Commission in Wellington, surrounded by promotional posters Waititi signed for her two decades ago, when she was tasked with promoting his nascent talent. Now the organisation’s marketing chief, she talks to me after visiting the heart of thriving “Wellywood”, overseeing the traditional karakia prayer on the set of a new movie starring Geoffrey Rush.

Waititi isn’t the first great Kiwi filmmaker – dual Oscar-winner Jane Campion and blockbuster king Peter Jackson come to mind – yet his particular ascendance, she says, has spurred unparalleled enthusiasm. “Taika gave everyone here confidence. He always says, ‘Don’t sit around waiting for people to say, you can do this.’ Just do it, because he just did it. That’s the Taika effect.”

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Taika David Waititi is known for wearing everything from technicolour dreamcoats to pineapple print rompers, and today he’s wearing a roomy teal and white Isabel Marant jumper. The mohair garment has the same wispy frizz as his hair, which curls like a wave of grey steel wool, and connects with a shorn salty beard.

A stylish silver fox, it wouldn’t surprise anyone if he suddenly announced he was launching a fashion label. He’s definitely a commercial animal, to the point of directing television commercials for Coke and Amazon, along with a fabulous 2023 spot for Belvedere vodka starring Daniel Craig. He also joined forces with a beverage company in Finland (where “taika” means “magic”) to release his coffee drinks. Announcing the partnership on social media, he flagged that he would be doing more of this kind of stuff, too (“Soz not soz”).

Waititi has long been sick of reverent portrayals of Indigenous people talking to spirits.

There’s substance behind the swank. Fashion is a creative outlet but he’s also bought sewing machines in the past with the intention of designing and making clothes, and comes from a family of tailors. “I learnt how to sew a button on when I was very young,” he says. “I learnt how to fix holes or patches in your clothes, and darn things.”

And while he gallivants around the globe watching Wimbledon or modelling for Hermès at New York Fashion Week, all that glamour belies a depth of purpose, particularly when it comes to Indigenous representation.

There’s a moment in his new movie where a Samoan player realises that their Dutch coach, played by Michael Fassbender, is emotionally struggling, and he offers a lament for white people: “They need us.” I can’t help but think Waititi meant something more by that line – maybe that First Nations people have wisdom to offer if others will just listen?

“Weeelllll, a little bit …” he says – but from his intonation, and what he says next, I’m dead wrong. Waititi has long been sick of reverent portrayals of Indigenous people talking to kehua (spirits), or riding a ghost waka (phantom canoe), or playing a flute on a mountain. “Always the boring characters,” he says. “They’ve got no real contemporary relationship with the world, because they’re always living in the past in their spiritual ways.”

A scene from Next Goal Wins, filmed earlier this year. (Alamy)

He’s part of a vanguard consciously poking fun at those stereotypes. Another is the Navajo writer and director Billy Luther, who met Waititi at Sundance Film Festival back in 2003, along with Reservation Dogs co-creator Sterlin Harjo. “We were this group of outsiders trying to make films, when nobody was really biting,” says Luther. “It was a different time. The really cool thing about it now is we’re all working. We persevered. We didn’t give up. We slept on each other’s couches and hung out. It’s like family.”

Waititi has power now, and is known for using Indigenous interns wherever possible (“because there weren’t those opportunities when I was growing up”), making important introductions, offering feedback on scripts, and lending his name to projects through executive producer credits, too, which he did for Luther’s new feature film, Frybread Face and Me (2023).

He called Luther back from the set of Thor: Love and Thunder (2022) to offer advice on working with child actors – “Don’t box them into the characters you’ve created,” he said, “let them naturally figure it out on their own” – but it’s definitely harder to get Waititi on the phone these days. “He’s a little bitch,” Luther says, laughing. “Nah, there’s nothing like him. He’s a genius. You just knew he was going to be something. I just knew it. He’s my brother.“

I’ve been asked to explicitly avoid political questions in this interview, probably because Waititi tends to back so many causes, from child poverty and teenage suicide to a campaign protesting offshore gas and oil exploration near his tribal lands. But it’s hard to ignore his recent Instagram post, sharing a viral video about the Voice to Parliament referendum starring Indigenous Aussie rapper Adam Briggs. After all, we speak only two days after the proposal is defeated. “Yeah, sad to say but, Australia, you really shat the bed on that one,” Waititi says, pausing. “But go see my movie!”

About that movie – the early reviews aren’t great. IndieWire called it a misfire, too wrapped in its quirks to develop its arcs, with Waititi’s directorial voice drowning out his characters, while The Guardian called it “a shoddily made and strikingly unfunny attempt to tell an interesting story in an uninteresting way”. I want to know how he moves past that kind of criticism. “For a start, I never read reviews,” he says, concerned only with the opinion of people who paid for admission, never professional appraisals. “It’s not important to me. I know I’m good at what I do.”

Criticism that Indigenous concepts weren’t sufficiently explained in Next Goal Wins gets his back up a little, though. The film’s protagonist, Jaiyah Saelua, the first transgender football player in a FIFA World Cup qualifying match, is fa’afafine – an American Samoan identifier for someone with fluid genders – but there wasn’t much exposition of this concept in the film. “That’s not my job,” Waititi says. “It’s not a movie where I have to explain every facet of Samoan culture to an audience. Our job is to retain our culture, and present a story that’s inherently Polynesian, and if you don’t like it, you can go and watch any number of those other movies out there, 99 per cent of which are terrible.”

*notes: (there is video clip in the article)

Waititi sounds momentarily cranky, but he’s mostly unflappable and hilarious. He’s the kind of guy who prefers “Correctumundo bro!” to “Yes”. When our video connection is too laggy, he plays up to it by periodically pretending to be frozen, sitting perfectly still, mouth open, his big shifting eyeballs the only giveaway.

He’s at his best on set. Saelua sat next to him in Honolulu while filming the joyous soccer sequences. “He’s so chill. He just let the actors do their thing, giving them creative freedom, barely interjecting unless it was something important. His style matches the vibe of the Pacific people. We’re a very funny people. We like to laugh. He just fit perfectly.”

People do seem to love working alongside him, citing his ability to make productions fresh and unpredictable and funny. Chris Hemsworth once said that Waititi’s favourite gag is to “forget” that his microphone is switched on, so he can go on a pantomime rant for all to hear – usually about his disastrous Australian lead actor – only to “remember” that he’s wired and the whole crew is listening.

“I wouldn’t know about that, because I don’t listen to what other people say about anything – I’ve told you this,” Waititi says. “I just try to have fun when there’s time to have fun. And when you do that, and you bring people together, they’re more willing to go the extra mile for you, and they’re more willing to believe in the thing that you’re trying to do.”

Yes, he plays music between takes, and dances out of his director’s chair, but it’s really all about relaxing amid the immense pressure and intense privilege of making movies. “Do you know how hard it is just to get anything financed or green-lit, then getting a crew, getting producers to put all the pieces together, and then making it to set?” Waititi asks. “It’s a real gift, even to be working, and I feel like I have to remind people of that: enjoy this moment.”

Source: The Age

By: Konrad Marshall (December 1, 2023)

#rhys darby #taika waititi #next goal wins #our flag means death #hunt for the wilderpeople #interview

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firedrakegirl · 9 months ago

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Ora was just settling in for dinner, a really nice sandwich, in the park. She was treating herself to an evening picnic after a very long week. She had a bubble tea, some french onion soup, and a brisket sandwich, plus a bottle of birch beer. She picked up her sandwich with a happy sigh, then practically threw it as a super bright light lit the area where she was sitting in her rush to cover her eyes. When she finally managed to blink the spots from her eyes, there was a man lying across her picnic, his shirt soaking up the soup and his pants soaking up the spilled tea. For a moment she pouted. “My dinner...” Then she realized that there was, in fact, an injured man lying practically in her lap. “Oh shit. Dude, are you okay?” She gently shook his shoulder.

One of his hands lashed out and smashed into her nose. “Do not touch me, you pathetic...” He looked at her, cross eyed. “You're not my brother?”

She yelped as she felt her nose crack and blood start flowing. “No I'm not. You broke my nose!”

“Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“It's a public park, and I was trying to eat dinner, but I think you're wearing it now.” She huffed, watering eyes flicking over his form as she tried to determine how hurt he was. “You pretty much fell on me when that bright light happened. Do you know what happened?” As someone who lived somewhat near New York, she wasn't completely oblivious to the weird things that happened just a couple hours away.

“I am...” He blinked at her blearily, managing to sway despite lying down.

“You look concussed or something.” She sighed and started cleaning up what she could. “C'mon. I'm taking you to the hospital to get some help.”

“I am...” He paused again. “I am not concussed. I can't feel my magic.”

Ora hummed. “All the more reason to get you to the hospital then. Do you think you can walk? Or stand?”

“Of course I can!” He snapped. He immediately tried to stand and promptly collapsed into a heap.

Ora sighed again and looked him over. “Okay, can you move against the tree while I finish cleaning up? Then I'll help you to my car and we'll get you going.”

He scooted over the two feet to the tree and started using it to stand. His legs shook more than they should have, and his entire body hurt.

“Sit down, dumbass.” She snapped at him as she gathered the now empty containers of her wasted dinner, before stepping away to throw them in the nearest trashcan.

He ignored her and worked on trying to stabilize himself. He was grumbling, still reaching for magic that refused to respond.

“Hey.” Ora said softly, approaching with her hands out. When he looked up, there was a car nearby with an open passenger door. “Okay, I'm going to get you into the car and drive you to the hospital, okay?”

“Very well.” He said shakily, then frowned.

Ora knelt in front of him, giving the stranger her back. “Okay, I need you to hold on.”

“I am not a child!”

“You're also too injured to walk. And I can't carry you the normal way.”

He couldn’t really argue with her logic. “If you dare speak of this to anybody…” He threatened.

“What are you going to do? Break my nose again?” She snarked then bit her lip. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

He couldn’t help but stare as he painfully climbed onto her back. “You are apologizing to me when I am the one who harmed you?”

She shrugged as best she could with him on her back. “You’ve clearly been through hell. How would you know I’m not one of the assholes who beat the shit out of you?”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Nope, and I don’t care.” She walked unsteadily to the car. When she got there, she turned as carefully as she could and lowered him into the seat. “Watch your head. And that sounded bad. I don’t care who you are at the moment, other than someone who needs a hand. The rest can happen later.” She explained.

The man practically melted into the seat; it was his first time actually getting to relax in....longer than he could remember. The sound of the car door shutting startled him into opening his eyes. He didn't remember closing them.

Ora hummed as she got into the driver's seat. “Why don't you tell me about your favorite hobbies?”

“Why should I tell you anything?”

“Because I want to keep you awake and aware on the drive, and hobbies are easier to talk about when you're out of it than something like a philosophical discussion.”

“Oh.” He thought for a moment, eyes sliding closed again. “I enjoy reading and learning.”

“Okay, reading is something I can absolutely talk about for hours, I'm a bookworm. What's your favorite genre?”

“I primarily read...what do you call it? Non-fiction. Though I am not picky.”

“Have you ever read any of Richard Preston's books?”

“Give me an example?”

“The Hot Zone? Demon in the Freezer?” She asked, giving the examples she remembered the most. “About Ebola and smallpox respectively.”

“Yes, actually. I read the Hot Zone a few years ago.”

“What did you think of it?”

“You humans have the most ridiculous weaknesses. But it was fascinating. I was especially fascinated at how such dangerous diseases are handled.”

Ora kept him talking the whole trip to the hospital, glad to have found a book in common with him. She was surprised at how, despite looking like he wasn't all there, he could easily keep up with her rambling.

When she pulled up, she looked at him. “Okay, Do you want me to carry you in again, or should I grab a wheelchair? I can drop you off at the front or go in with you.”

The man looked at her, bloodshot green eyes full of conflicted emotion. “I... would prefer you to be there. I don't trust you, but you're the nearest thing I have to someone I trust at the moment.”

She smiled and slowly put her hand on his shoulder. “That's fine. Why don't you piggy back ride again, that way I know where you are.”

“thank you.”

“You're welcome hun.” Ora smiled at him and glanced around. There was a nearby spot, luckily. She quickly parked and hurried around to his door. “When we get to the door, do you want to try to walk in or stay on my back?” She asked as she crouched for him to get onto her back.

“Why are you being like this?” He asked, hissing softly in pain as he practically flopped on her.

“What? Helping you? Because it's the right thing to do. I would do it for anyone I found as badly injured as you.”

“How have you survived this long?”

“I am extremely lucky.” She laughed, wincing slightly as she stood and her knee cracked. She hid the expression from him. “Now, let's head in. I'm not gonna let you down unless you ask for it.” She might be bad at people, but he was clearly hurting in more than one way. He needed someone to stand by his side.

“Thank you.” He sounded a little baffled at the fact that she was staying at his side.

“Of course. Hold on tight.” She started to walk toward the ER entrance. He held as tightly as he could, though he was careful not to strangle her in the process.

As soon as they walked into the ER, the intake nurse looked up and gasped. “Miss! You're...”

“I'm fine. I'm here for him.” Ora disagreed.

The nurse looked at the man on her back and clapped a hand over her mouth to block the scream. “One moment!” She scrambled off her chair and ran off.

“That was rude.”

“That's more what I expect to see.” The man on her back huffed tiredly.

“Then that's all the more reason for me to stick close.” Ora replied. “I'm not letting you out of my sight.”

“I'm not a child.”

“Did I say you were? Everyone deserves to have someone by their side.” He huffed but didn't argue.

“Miss, I have a wheelchair for him here, and then we can help you over here.” The nurse was back.

“”Thank you, but I'll be carrying him.” Ora said pleasantly but firmly.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“This way, then.” The nurse looked exceptionally nervous as she led Ora to an out of the way room. “In here. The doctor will be in shortly.”

“Thank you.” The nurse left and Ora carefully deposited her new friend on the bed, wincing. She turned to look at him. “Hey, how're you holding up?”

“I shall be fine with some rest and meditation, as well as some basic medical care.”

“Doesn't tell me how you are now though hun.” She sat in the chair next to the bed and looked at him.

“Why do you care?” Despite the edge to his voice, she could hear the vulnerability.

“You haven't given me a reason not to care. And you're afraid. Don't argue.” She waved him off when he opened his mouth. “I'm not judging you. You're badly hurt and stuck with a stranger because you expect to be hurt. That's why I care.”

“You're a very strange human.”

“Yeah, I know. I suspect that I should be running or something, but you need someone to lean on for now. When you can stand again, then we can talk about if i need to run away.” I grinned at him.

He clearly couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. “Thank you. I don't even know your name.”

“Ora. My name is Ora.” She offered a hand to shake, then jumped when a nurse opened the door.

“Excuse me. I'm here to start care.”

Ora moved to the other side of the bed so the nurse could approach, but so she stayed close to her new friend. She offered a hand to the man when the nurse approached and he winced. “So, what other kinds of books do you like to read?” She offered lighthearted distraction.

He flashed her the briefest hint of a smile. “I doubt that you’ve read any of them.”

“That’s okay! Why don’t you tell me about your favorites anyway?” She offered as the nurse removed his shirt to start the examination. Her eyes widened at the horrifying number of scars, bruises, and open wounds that littered his torso alone. She quickly schooled her expression and looked at the man. There was something apprehensive about his expression and she grinned at him. “You should see the bruises on my legs.”

He snorted. “No pity for me?”

“I don’t do pity, dude. Just sympathy.”

The nurse was documenting everything, her lips being pressed tighter and tighter. “Sir, you are badly injured and may need surgery.”

“No surgery. I just need the visible problems dealt with.” He disagreed.

The nurse huffed. “Can you remove your pants? I would like to see what else is wrong.”

“I can turn around for some privacy.” Ora offered.

“I am in healer halls. Privacy is an illusion here.” He pointed out.

“And sometimes that illusion is comforting.”

The man waved her off and shimmied his pants off. His legs were nearly as bad as his torso. One thigh was sporting what was clearly a broken bone. “I shall live, never fear.”

“Oh, I didn’t doubt it.” Ora smirked at him. “You strike me as too chaotic to die by something as lame as internal bleeding.”

The nurse quickly finished her examination, hissing softly as she helped him shift to his side so she could see his back. There was a massive electrical burn that looked like it was infected and spanned at least half his back.

He looked up at Ora. “Tell me about your favorite books?”

She blinked at him in surprise then smiled softly. “Sure. Uh….how do you feel about sci-fi/fantasy?”

“Fine. I’m looking for that distraction you offered.”

“Ah! I can do that. So one of my favorite series is the Dragonriders of Pern by Anne McCaffrey. It reads as fantasy, what with the dragons, but it’s actually Sci fi.” She was easily able to ramble about the books, answering his questions as the nurse finished her examination.

“The doctor will be in soon.” The nurse informed them both, helping Loki into a hospital gown. “And she will be treating you both.” She left no room for argument.

Ora grabbed the blanket from the foot of his bed and covered her new friend with it. “So I think it’s your turn to tell me about your favorite books.” She sat between him and the door again.

The man laughed. “You are an interesting human. Very well.” He started speaking of books of history, history that made no sense to her, but the way he spoke, picking up on her questions before she'd formulated them and answering easily? She was positive he’d be an amazing teacher.

She listened intently until the door was thrown open and Captain America burst into the room, shield at the ready, and followed by Thor and Ironman. She looked over with a smile, pleased to see that others were as worried about who’d caused this much damage to her new friend. When she turned back to him, what little warmth had been there had melted away into completely blank expression with no sign of the pain he was in. Before she could think about it, Ora was on her feet and standing between the Avengers and the man in the bed.

“Miss, you need to step away from him. He is dangerous.” Captain freaking America said.

“He is hurt. Or did you not notice this is a hospital.” Ora snapped, brain going a mile a second. If the Avengers were here, and not to help him, he was someone dangerous. But he was still hurt and that was what mattered in this moment. She sent a mental apology to her new friend.

“Reindeer games there tried to take over the world. Is he really the one you want to defend?”

“I’ll thank you to not call my fiancé names, Mr. Stark. I would expect this behavior from you, but not from the righteous Captain America.” Her eyes snapped back to the Captain. “How dare you barge into a hospital room with no warning and harass the injured party. How fucking dare you!” She was in his face and jabbing her index finger into the star on his chest. “Get out! Right now!”

“Fiancé? Who would marry that bag of crazy?” Ironman scoffed.

“Get the hell out of this room now.” Ora growled. Thor stepped around her and she whirled to keep him in her sights. A distant part of her brain recognized that she was currently yelling at the Avengers, but most of her attention was on protecting her fake fiancé. “Step away.”

“Brother.” Thor ignored her, and reached for the man in the bed. “What happened to you?”

She saw the minute flinch and didn’t think. She punched Thor in the jaw.

The god of thunder barely flinched, but he did look concerned at the crack her hand made. “Are you hurt?”

“Ow, what the hell is your jaw made of? Granite?” She shook out her hand, but didn't think anything was broken. “But still, get the hell away from my fiancé before I kick you in the nuts.”

“Her eyes are brown.” Ironman said, sounding considering.

“They’re hazel thank you.” Ora snapped, interposing herself between Thor and the bed. “And y'all need to back the hell up.”

“Darling, I appreciate you being so protective, but they just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“They can do it without crowding you, love.”

“We just want to make sure you’re not mind controlled. He is known for that.”

She rolled my eyes at Ironman. “Yeah, because if he could’ve mind controlled a lover, he would’ve picked the short, fat, ditzy idiot. That makes total sense.”

“Hey. None of that now.” She could feel his hand grab hers. She was so glad he was willing to play along, despite the lack of warning.. “We’ve discussed this.”

“I didn’t know you also loved a Midgardian, brother.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. And I am not your brother.” His voice was cool. “Now, I am not going anywhere, nor am I in any condition to fight. So you may stand outside while the doctor does their work.”

“The doctor isn't even here yet.”

“Yes I am. And this is too many people here to treat the kind of injuries I'm here to treat. Two of you, get out.” She pointed at Thor and Ironman. “Out.”

Ora stuck her tongue out at them as they left, then made a face. “I keep forgetting there's blood on my face.”

Captain America snorted, then jumped as the doctor turned on him. “You can stand in the corner over there.” She turned to Ora. “And you, sit in that chair. I don't want to hear arguments from anyone.”

Both Captain America and Ora gulped and followed directions under the doctor's firm gaze. “Yes ma'am.”

“Now, you. I don't care who you are. Right now you're under my care and you're going to act like it. You can be burdened with glorious purpose when you're released. For now, you're just Loki, got it?”

“Yes healer.”

“Good boy. Now, I need you to tell me if what I'm doing makes anything worse.”

Loki was still holding onto Ora's hand and she squeezed it gently as the doctor pulled away the gown and started to work. She thought she heard a gasp from behind her, from Captain America, but ignored it. “You know, if you liked The Hot Zone, I highly recommend Demon In the Freezer. It's the same author, but about smallpox instead of Ebola.” Her mind was spinning as she finally realized just who her fake husband was. Still, she couldn’t show it.

“How interesting. You humans have eradicated that one, correct?”

“For the most part. My understanding is that it's really just a handful of samples in freezers around the world.”

The doctor chuckled at their conversation as she worked. She was quick and efficient as she worked on Loki’s many wounds, stitching, debriding, wrapping, and whatever else needed to be done. Loki’s grip on Ora’s hand slowly got tighter and tighter despite her efforts to distract him and his efforts to stay relaxed. By the time she got to his legs, he was drenched in sweat and his jaw was clenched to prevent the sounds that wanted to escape. Ora had taken to rambling about whatever came to her mind in an effort to distract him.

“Okay, unfortunately, it looks like your femur has already started to heal and will need to be rebroken.” She said gently, after examining his leg once again.

“None of you will be able to do it. You will have to call in Thor.” Loki grated out. “He has experience doing exactly this procedure.”

“Very well. We will move you to surgery.”

“I will remain in this room. Your medication will not help me, and I refuse to be unconscious around people I do not trust.”

“You trust your fiancé, right?” Captain America asked.

“Of course. But she is a normal human, and I don’t trust anyone else.”

Ora was surprised at how easily he claimed to trust her, but smiled softly. “I understand Loki-love. I can only do so much.”

“Someone else bring the oaf in and do it quickly.” Loki waved his free hand imperiously in the direction of the door.

Captain America quickly stepped out of the room, looking a little green.

“You should let go of my hand, darling.” Loki said softly to Ora. “I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

Ora squeezed his hand gently. “Would it be easier if I continue to hold your hand?”

Loki looked at her oddly. “Not at the expense of your health. I already damaged you once.”

“It was an accident and you know it. If it’ll help, I will keep holding your hand. If it will make things worse, I’ll stop.”

Loki let go of her hand slowly, as though reluctant to lose that comfort. “After, I will reclaim that hand.”

Ora blushed, but was saved from answering by Thor striding into the room. “The captain informed me that you needed assistance, healer.”

“Yes. His femur was badly broken and is far enough into the healing process that it needs to be rebroken.”

Thor frowned, looking over Loki considering. “Father didn’t heal you before sending you here?”

“He is your father, not mine. Why would he heal the stolen relic?” Loki snapped.

Ora put her hand on his arm soothingly. “Perhaps, Thor, we can get on with it?”

“I understand you have experience rebreaking bones.”

“Indeed.” Thor started unbuckling his belt, ignoring everyone’s stuttered demands for what he was doing. He handed the leather belt to Loki, who put it between his teeth without a word. “I assume, brother, that you refused medication, as usual.”

Loki nodded and gestured for Thor to get on with it.

Thor went quiet, focused as he gently examined the bone and break. He shot a glance at Loki, then with a sudden move there was the snap of the bone breaking and Loki let out a raw sound of pure agony behind the belt.

Ora grabbed his hand as he flailed, hoping to keep him from hurting himself further or damaging hospital property, and he clamped down on it hard enough that she let out a muffled yelp as she felt it break. She watched in fascination, despite the tears in her eyes, as Thor quickly manipulated the broken bone and held traction on it so that the doctor could cast it. She still muttered soothing things to Loki, mentioning books she’d love to share with him and how she was going to take him to see the town she grew up in, as though they were really in a relationship.

By the time the doctor and Thor were finished, Loki had passed out from the pain and stress of it all. The doctor thanked Thor and turned to Ora. “It’s your turn miss.”

Ora gave the doctor a once over and shook her head. “You need to get something to eat and drink first. You’re shaking. I can wait another half hour. Or for a different doctor. I know that was a lot more than one doctor usually does.” She thought for a moment. “I think I have a granola bar in my pocket if you’d like that if you can’t officially take a break? And I’m sure Mr. Stark can afford to get you something from whatever vending machines or cafeteria is available at the moment?”

The doctor laughed softly. “I might take you up on the granola bar.”

Ora stood and dug awkwardly in her pocket with her hand that wasn’t broken and trapped by a possibly deranged god. After several moments, she came up with the bar. “It's a little squished, sorry.” She offered it, and the chair she was using to the doctor.

“Thank you. While I eat and sit for a moment, why don't you tell me what happened?”

Ora hummed her agreement, leaning against Loki's bed. “I startled him and he lashed out, which is why my nose is broken. I can breathe through it, more or less, so I'm not actually concerned about it. And he absolutely broke my hand there when Thor broke his leg. It kinda sucks...that's my dominant hand.” She sighed. “But none of it is super urgent. I know how triage works.”

“You're very calm about all this.”

“I'm good at keeping my cool, and I'm familiar with the medical field.”

“Are you a premed student? You seemed very knowledgeable when talking about those books.”

Ora laughed. “Nope, I'm not smart enough for it. I did try, but realized quickly that wasn't the right way to go. No, I work as an medical assistant nowadays, but it's still a hobby for me. And I do have a bachelors degree in psychology, not that I use it for anything.” She did her best to ignore Thor's scrutiny while she talked to the doctor. “And I'm a klutz, so I'm good at categorizing my own injuries.”

“Have you had broken bones before, then?”

“Only one, and I didn't go to the hospital for it.” She laughed.

The doctor frowned at that. “Why not?”

“One, it was my tailbone, and two, I thought I'd just bruised the bone again. By the time I realized it was more, it was too late to treat, and since it wasn't interfering with anything, I just shrugged and went on with my life. It's not like that's a bone that can be casted.”

Before the doctor could respond, Loki groaned softly. Ora immediately switched her focus to him. “Hey hun. How're you feeling?”

“Like my leg was just broken.” He cracked an eye open and looked at her curiously. “You're still here.”

“Of course I am. I told you I wasn't leaving.”

His hand twitched around hers and she couldn't help the wince as bones ground together. “I hurt you. Again.” He pulled his hand away quickly, but she pulled it back with her whole hand.

“Yes, but I knew you would when I grabbed your hand, not the other way around. I'll recover, don't worry.” She smiled at him.

“How long was I out.”

“I dunno, five minutes? Not long at all.” Ora assured him as the doctor finished her granola bar and stood.

“Is it her turn for healing now?” Loki turned to the doctor, completely ignoring Thor.

“Only if our amazing doctor is up for it. If you still need time, that's fine.” Ora assured her.

“I can handle a broken hand and nose, don't worry.” The doctor assured. “Then I'll go on break, before you start yelling at me like you did at Captain America.”

Ora blushed. “I'll apologize to him later, but I still think I did the right thing. And thank you.”

The doctor didn't need long to evaluate Ora. “Your assumptions were right. Your nose is broken, but should heal on it's own just fine. And your hand...I think it'll be okay just with a cast, but you may need surgery down the road. We'll have to see.”

“Okay, thank you.”

The doctor quickly put her hand and wrist into the cast before turning to Loki. “I'm going to ask that you stay here for a while until I can evaluate you after you've had a chance to rest. Do you have any allergies? I'm going to get some food sent up for the both of you.”

“Loki needs meat. A lot of meat.” Thor finally spoke up. “And apples. They’re his favorite food and will help him to finish the meat. And anything you may have that can boost magic.”

Loki stared at Thor, an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. “The Allfather saw fit to bind my magic when he banished me. I cannot use it, or we would not be in this situation now.” He said, instead of acknowledging the feeling.

“I see.” Thor looked contemplative.

“But Thor is correct. Meat is what my body needs to heal.”

The doctor nodded and left the room, Thor following.

Ora took advantage of their brief privacy. “The fiancé thing is so I can stay close. The fake dating only has to last until you’re back to yourself. Promise.” She assured him quietly.

Loki nodded his understanding, but the door opened again to admit Ironman before he could reply. “Ora Zimbo, 33 years old, no record of a significant other. Care to explain?”

“That would be because of me.” Loki informed him lazily. “I asked that she keep me a secret to prevent Asgard from coming after her.”

“Plus,” Ora added. “Have you ever heard the judgement for a long distance relationship? Let alone one where your significant other is a god from another planet.” Ora rolled her eyes, glad she could bounce off of what Loki had said so easily. “Why do you think there’s no record.”

“Plus, I do not have an identity among your kind.” Loki added.

“Then how do you two communicate.”

“Magic.” Ora replied immediately.

“Mirrors and fire.” Loki agreed, clarifying.

“You can see what my nicknames online are, can’t you? No one thinks twice if I’m watching fires for an evening.”

“LadySmaug. Very original there. Very nerdy.”

“Smaug is badass and so classic. Who would know what I mean if I called myself Ramoth or LadyMnementh? Let me guess. You prefer Star Trek, but the newer movies, right? Less political BS?��

“How dare you slander Kirk that way.”

“Of course you’re a Kirk fanboy.” Ora rolled her eyes. “Star Wars is better anyway.”

“My fiancé is absolutely right. Star Wars is much better.”

Tony gasped in affront, but it was obvious he was enjoying the banter.

“Although, darling, I do believe you’re more of a Ramoth than a Mnementh.” Loki mused. “Definitely a queen.”

She blushed and smiled at him. The fact that he knew that much just from listening to her ramble to distract him was impressive. “You are very sweet love. Thank you.”

“Ew. Feelings. That’s my cue to leave.” Ironman left the room quickly, leaving Ora and Loki to look at each other and chuckle.

“I think he believed us.” Ora grinned. “But even if he didn’t, you’re not getting rid of me yet.”

“If I asked you to leave?”

“I would ask if you actually wanted me to, but if yes I would go. I’m here to support you and provide a buffer as needed. That doesn’t help if that’s not what you need.”

“I am in your debt, Miss Ora.”

“I’m your fiancé remember. You shouldn’t call me Miss.” she laughed. “Don’t want to slip in front of them, after all.”

“Then I am in your debt, darling.” He drawled.

“You are a dangerous man, Loki. I bet you break all the hearts.” She blushed despite her teasing.

There was a knock on the door a the doctor walked in again, pushing a small cart. “I have food. This will do to start for both of you. Don’t worry Miss Zimbo, we do have a record of your allergies.”

“Yes, because you’re absolutely serving crumbly cheeses to the folks who’ve been admitted to the hospital.” Ora laughed and settled back into her chair after the doctor handed her the tray.

She shifted a table over Loki, so he could eat while remaining in bed. “And this is for you. I've never treated a god before, so I hope this is sufficient.”

“I'm sure your paltry offering will please me somewhat.” Loki deadpanned, and Ora snorted.

“Be nice, love. And eat. Hopefully, that will help you feel better.” She took the lid off her own tray and smiled. “Oh! Stew! Thank you doctor.”

“I'm going on break, so just ring the bell if you need anything else. I've informed the Avengers that if they need you, they can wait until you're both finished eating.”

“That is very much appreciated.” Loki nodded his thanks and opened his tray. It was also stew, but a significantly larger portion, and had more meat in it. There was also a slice of apple pie.

She glanced at the door as the doctor closed it behind herself. “Apples are your favorite?”

“Yes.” He took a bite of his stew, and something about him relaxed. “Especially the golden ones. I believe you have myths about them?”

“The apples of immortality?” She took a clumsy bite of her stew, struggling a little with using her right hand. “Yeah, are they really the reason Asgardians are so long lived?”

“No, but they do help. They are a naturally long lived species, as are most of the beings in the nine realms. The apples help them stay healthier, and can help heal injuries or wounds.”

“Interesting.” She smiled at him. “You know, you'd probably be a good teacher.”

“Me? Why in the Nine would you think that?”

“You answer questions patiently and understandingly, and each answer is explained.” She shrugged. “It’s the vibe you give off.”

“I appreciate it. It’s rare anyone wants to learn from me.”

“I will gladly listen to anything you’d like to teach.”

“Truly?”

“Oh absolutely! I love learning, but I’m not at all good at retaining, so fair warning. I have a memory like a brain dead goldfish.”

Loki almost choked on the bite of stew he’d just eaten. “A what?!”

“Brain dead goldfish?” She grinned at his incredulous expression. “Have you heard the very very common misconception that goldfish only have a memory of three seconds?”

“No? That’s ridiculous!”

“Oh yeah. Absolutely. But it’s one of those myths that never quite goes away. But I invoke it for my memory issues because it’s funny as hell.” She grinned widely at him, and he had to laugh.

Unfortunately, the laugh jostled his broken ribs, so it turned into gasps of pain. “Please do not make me laugh.”

“Oof, I'm sorry hun. I'll try not to crack anymore jokes.” The pun slipped out by accident, and Loki shot her a look, the edges of his mouth twitching like he wanted to smile. She shoved a spoonful of stew into her mouth to prevent the other puns from slipping out, blushing.

“I see you like word play.” He chuckled softly.

“I do! It's a lot of fun. I'm especially good with puns.”

“Have you ever attempted flyting?”

“That's the insult thing, right?”

“Indeed. A verbal joust.”

“While that sounds like fun, I don't think I'd be fast enough for it. I would guess you're a master of the art?”

“I've been known for it, over the centuries.”

“I would love to see you do it sometime, if possible.”

“I can teach you.”

She perked up a little at that. “You think you could?”

“If you like wordplay, it's the logical next step. And you did say you'd be interested in learning anything I'd like to teach.”

“You've got me there.” She laughed. “Alright. I'd love to learn, especially since you're stuck with me for the time being.”

“I think I am very lucky for that.” Loki mused.

“What makes you say that?”

“You had no clue who I was, other than the fact that I instinctively broke your nose, and decided I needed a friend. Then, when you found out who I am, and what I did to your world a short time ago, you decided to stay.”

“I mean...we all make bad choices sometimes.” She shrugged. “And you're clearly hurt in more than one way. Are you planning to take over as soon as you've recovered?”

“No. It was never my desire to take over your world. There were... other circumstances at play.”

Ora cocked a brow at him curiously. “Yeah?” He hesitated and she smiled, reaching over to gently touch his arm. “No pressure, but if you want to talk, I'm glad to listen.”

“Such a strange human.” His expression was gentle despite his words. She just grinned widely at him for it. “But yes, there was someone else pulling the strings, so to speak.”

“Ah. That's why some of your injuries are older?”

“You just believe me? With no convincing?”

“Why wouldn't I?”

“I'm considered the god of lies.”

“But you're not lying about this. And some of those bruises are older than just a week and a half. The color's wrong. Some of them are really old. And they're not the right shapes and locations for normal day to day clumsiness. I'm not as good at other kinds of injuries, but...” Ora shrugged. “I'm bad at people, but good at bruises. I believe you. And unless you give me a reason to stop, I will continue to believe you.”

Loki stared at her before lightly touching her arm. “Thank you. That means a great deal more than you know.”

She smiled at him, then winked. “Anything for my fiancé, right?”

He snorted. “Of course my darling, my love.” He teased and she blushed brightly. “Too much?”

“N-no. If we’re engaged, I should be used to it. We can explain it as easily flustered.” She tried to speak normally. Loki was oddly pleased that she was so responsive to him.

Before Loki could reply, however, Thor burst into the room. “Have you finished eating, brother?”

Loki sighed and pushed his tray away. “I suppose.”

Ora glanced at Loki’s tray seeing the entire slice pie and a third of the stew left. “No. He is not.”

Thor paused at looked at her again. “Then may I speak to you while he finishes?” The god of thunder smiled winningly.

Ora hesitated and glanced over at Loki, who gave her the smallest of shrugs, before nodding. “Sure. Why not.”

“I promise not to harm you or he, milady.” Thor assured.

“At least not intentionally.” She mused, standing up so they were slightly closer to being eye to eye. “Ugh, you’re unfairly tall.”

Thor laughed and looked at Loki briefly. “I see why you like her. She has spirit.” Then he turned back to me. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. I am Thor, brother of Loki. Even if he was adopted, I still consider him my brother.” She could tell that, despite the fact that he was talking to her, the words were meant for Loki.

“It’s nice to meet you Thor. My name is Ora.” She offered a hand for him to shake. “I’d apologize for punching you, but I’m not going to apologize for protecting my people.”

To both her and Loki’s shock, Thor bypassed her hand and pulled her into a tight hug. “You are to be my sister in law! We hug in this family.” Ora let out a slightly breathless squeak as her back cracked from the force of his hug. “And thank you. For being there for Loki when I was too stupid to realize what I had.”

“It's my pleasure, Thor. Loki is good people and deserves having someone on his side.”

“Aye. He really does.” She could tell that Thor was trying to keep his eyes on her instead of looking to his brother.

“Was there actually something you wanted to talk to me about, or was this just an excuse to stay in the room longer while Loki finishes eating?”

Thor let out a startled laugh. “Nay, I would like to get to know you more, as you are family.”

She hummed. “You'd just accept me with no knowledge of what kind of person I am?”

Thor smiled in a self deprecating way she knew all too well. “I have not been a good brother for Loki in a...very long time. But in the end, I do trust his judgement. So yes, I do accept you before I get the honor of knowing you.”

Ora sighed, but nodded. There was a part of her that was starting to wish this was all real. She was getting more acceptance with these strangers, one of whom she'd decked, than with most people she saw on a regular basis. “Then go ahead and ask your questions. I'll answer those I'm comfortable with.”

“How did you meet Loki.”

“At the park.” She said honestly, grinning.

“Ah, was he reading under a tree?”

“I was, actually.”

“Ah, no wonder you get along so well. He does the same thing, regularly.”

I laughed. “We've definitely spent time under the tree together. And talked about books, even though we like different things.” She glanced back at Loki with a soft smile for Thor to notice, then made a face at the other god. Loki snorted softly as he ate his pie and gestured for her to continue talking to Thor. “Next question?”

“How about your favorite foods?”

“Well, I like a lot of food.” She patted her belly with a laugh. “But favorites? Potatoes and steak. Maybe. It really depends on my mood. I have an apple recipe that I'd like to try on Loki sometime, when he's feeling better.”

“He does love his apples.” Thor laughed. “You like to cook?”

“And bake. I'm no master of it, but I like feeding the people I care about.”

“What other hobbies do you enjoy?”

“Beading, writing, learning...” She shrugged. “I find it relaxing.”

“Do you enjoy any fighting?”

“I've done a little bit of martial arts, and enjoyed it, but that was a very long time ago. Wouldn't mind getting back into it, but that's an investment of time, energy, and money I don't currently have.”

“Why not?”

“My last job really drained me in a lot of ways, and I still haven't managed to find a new one that isn't retail. Some days I've struggled to even eat, I'm so tired.” She realized she needed to incorporate Loki into her life. “Loki has helped a lot with that, and been very patient with me.”

“About that.” Thor glanced at his brother. “What makes you like Loki so much?”

Ora's smile immediately vanished. “What do you mean by that?” She asked flatly.

“I'm curious if we see the same parts of him as good.” Thor seemed confused at my complete change of demeanor.

“Thor, are you trying to bolster him?”

“Of course!”

Ora sighed. “The way you said that makes it seem like he's not worth loving and that I'm wrong for caring about him.”

His eyes widened. “Nay! Loki is amazing! The entire reason I am still here as well as my best friend for several thousand years.”

“Then you should be careful of how you say things as much as what you say.” She patted his arm. “Wanna try it again?”

Thor thought for a moment. “I do. I do not wish to hurt him.” He thought some more before grinning. “Which of my brother's many positive attributes draws you to him?”

She snorted at the same time as Loki. “Little overdone, but better.” She laughed. “But it’s his intelligence and the way he talks to me that drew me at first. Despite being so much smarter than me, he’s never acted like i was lesser. We started as a friendship, and that’s the core of our relationship even now. Loki is good people, despite last week.”

“You stand by him even now, recognize that something was wrong?” Thor asked gladly.

“I stand by my people, no matter what.” Ora shrugged.

“Is it any wonder that I stand by her in return?” Loki asked, audibly smirking.

Ora shot him a smile. “Our friendship comes first, and everything else stems from that.”

Loki nodded his agreement. “And she stands by me more than our so called friends ever did. Is it any wonder I fell for her.”

Thor opened his mouth, ready to start a defense of his friends, but he got a thoughtful look and closed it. “I'm sorry, brother. I should have realized how unhappy you were among my friends, alongside me, long before I did. Will you ever be able to forgive me?”

“Get your father to overturn his sentence.” Loki snorted, clearly not meaning it.

“That does bring up the question. What happened?” Thor asked. “Why are you here?”

“Odin Allfather decided that banishment had been so good for you that it was clearly the correct method for me as well.” The injured god sneered.

“But you're badly injured. The captain said...”

“He did not care, nor did he ask.” Loki interrupted. “Mother was not permitted at the trial either.”

“Was it a true trial?” Thor asked. “Were you permitted to present your case?”

Loki snorted. “What would be the point? No one listens to me on Asgard and the Allfather had already made up his mind.”

“May I know the extent of your injuries?” Thor asked softly, clearly thinking about something.

Ora moved to stand next to Loki again, taking his hand with her whole one. Her support seemed to settle something in him. “Aye, Thor. When the healer comes back, you may get the list from her.”

“Thank you brother.” Thor sent him a look. “I am gladdened to see you back to yourself once more. I will leave you to yourselves for now. I believe the man of iron wants to move you to the same place we are staying and to get you care there.”

“Thank you Thor.” Loki clearly dismissed him.

Ora shot the bulkier god a smile. “It’s nice to get to know you a bit more, Thor.”

“It is a pleasure to have met you, sister.” Thor agreed, before taking his leave.

Once the door closed, Ora turned to Loki and gave his hand a squeeze. “Do you want me to follow to wherever that is?”

“I cannot ask you to upend your life for a stranger.”

“I am between jobs at the moment, and I recently moved.” She shrugged. “Right now, I think your needs are greater.”

“You are a very strange human. I don’t know that I can offer you recompense.”

“Eh. That's not why I’m doing it. I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do.” She shrugged. “And if you would like me to follow, I will.”

“I find myself wanting to be selfish and request you follow.”

“I already offered hun. I’m glad to do so.”

“Thank you. It’s nice knowing there is someone I can trust at my side.”

“Thank you for putting your trust in me. I’ll do my best to never betray it.” She smiled, knowing it wasn’t true trust yet.

“I trust you not to.” He grinned and relaxed into the bed.

“You look like you need a nap.”

“Mayhaps. But for now, I will remain vigilant.”

“Or, let me run to the bathroom and clean up a bit, and I’ll keep watch.” She offered. “I’ll even lock the door so no one else can get in.”

“That would be nice.”

She smiled and headed to the door, sticking her head out. “Hey, avengers.” When they looked at her, she grinned. “I’m locking the door so we can rest. If you need anything, text me instead of knocking. Iron Maiden over there can give you my number I’m sure. He’s been investigating me.” She closed and locked the door before they could argue with her.

With that, she turned to Loki with a smile. “I’ll leave the bathroom door open in case you need anything. Unless you need the bathroom first?”

“Nay, just rest.”

“Alright. Rest well hun.” She smiled and slipped into the bathroom. After a moment’s hesitation, she pulled off her shirt, even though she knew she was in full view of Loki. Her cheeks were bright red, but she thought letting him see her like this might even out some of his vulnerability. She turned on the cold water and started rubbing at the shirt, hoping to get some of the blood out. Unsurprisingly, not much of the stain washed out, but the excess was washed away. She sighed and set it on the handrail to dry. Then she set about washing the blood from her face, neck, and chest. She glanced up into the mirror, and met Loki’s eyes. Her blush darkened. He chuckled. Loki’s eyes flicked down her back before he met her eyes again, then pointedly closed his eyes. Ora sighed softly and went to stand next to Loki after drying off. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Why didn’t you close the door?”

“Vulnerability for vulnerability. I figured it would be fair. I’m still shirtless for now, fair warning” She shrugged. “I’m going to dig around for a blanket, since my shirt is wet.”

“And you’re willing to be shirtless around me?”

“Well, one, you’re not in any shape to do anything more than look, and I’m not exactly a looker. And two, we’re engaged. I should be used to you seeing me shirtless.”

Loki snorted. “Let me know when I can open my eyes.”

“Whenever you want.” She hummed, hunting through cabinets. “I’m not seeing any blankets. Think I can threaten iron man into buying me a shirt?”

Loki laughed and opened his eyes. “I think you could manage it. Or the man out of time. I believe you intimidate him.”

“You should just call them by their superhero names. They don't deserve your formalities.” She snorted before heading to the door again. This time, when she stuck her head out, she made sure the rest of her was behind the door. “Hey, could one of you run to the gift shop, if it's open, and grab me a shirt? XXL? I'll pay you back.”

“And get another blanket.” Loki suggested.

“And if one of you could get one of the nurses to snag another blanket or three, that would also be appreciated.” Ora agreed. “Okay, thanks byeeee.” She pulled back into the room and locked the door again.

Loki laughed at her. “You are a ridiculous human.”

“Yeah, I know.” She grinned at him. “But, at least for now, I'm your ridiculous human.”

“I suppose you are. So come here, fiancé of mine, and hold my hand so I can sleep.” He teased.

“Sure thing, loverboy.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth she made a face. “Nope. Not calling you that again. That was weird.”

“We can agree on that. Please do not.” Loki agreed, even as he laughed.

Before Ora could reply, her phone went off, blasting They’re Coming to Take Me Away Ha Haa. She jumped a mile and squeaked before scrambling to pull her phone out. “Oh shit! I never called Fire. Excuse me a second, Loki.” She answered the phone quickly. “Hey, I’m so sorry I didn’t call. Things got crazy on my end.”

“Of course they did.” Fire laughed. “They always do with us. But you’re home safe, right?”

“About that.”

“Oh no.”

“Can you grab some hospital stuff for me? Just a couple days worth.”

“What did you trip over now?”

“Nothing! I’m actually fine, miss trip tackle.” Ora laughed. “It’s a long story…” she looked at Loki for permission to explain.

“Go ahead.” He was curious how she would explain everything.

“So I’m fake engaged to someone I met at the park cuz he’s badly hurt and doesn’t trust anyone but-“

“But you’re you and promised to help him. And worked your magic and so you’re sticking close.”

“Yeah, something like that. I may also have lectured Captain goddamn America and decked Thor in the process?”

“Ora. Who is your fiancé?”

“So…remember the invasion of New York?”

“My memory may be as bad as yours, but even I can…Loki?” Ora could hear her cousin facepalm. “You’re fake engaged to Loki. Of course you are. Gods, if our family was any more insane, the lot of us would be in padded rooms.”

Ora giggled. “If anyone asks, you suspected but didn’t know for sure. It was hidden for reasons. We’ll explain when you get here?”

“You’d better. But I’m giving him a shovel talk.”

“Fake fiancé, sis. Not real one.”

“I don’t give a shit. I’ll still kill him if he hurts you. I’ll be there in twenty, once I find the keys to your new place.”

“Thank you.”

“What kind of books does he want me to grab?”

“Lemme ask.”

“K.”

Ora looked to Loki. “She wants to know what kinds of books you want her to grab for you.”

“Anything works for me. I doubt I’ve read much of what she might grab.”

“You hear that, Fire?”

“Yup. What’s his genre?”

“Nonfiction, already read the hot zone.”

“Got it. I’ll see what I can do. Love you!”

“Love you too, and thank you.”

“Yeah yeah, move along.” Fire teased and hung up.

Ora smiled and looked at Loki. “So I guess you need a quick crash course on my family.”

“You seem close. Is she your sister or your cousin?”

“My cousin, but we’re as close as sisters. Along with our other cousin, Char. So quick run down…we’re all the same age, related through our moms. I have the most normal name of the three of us, Fire’s given name doesn’t really fit her which is why she uses that, and Char is short for Charbroiled.”

“I’m sorry, Charbroiled?”

Ora laughed. “Yeah, so she was caught in a housefire and was badly burned. And her being her, decided to make the first joke about it and asked us to call her Char. The fireman who pulled her out’s brother got her a toast plushy.

“I see…” Loki chuckled. “And Fire?”

“Her real name is Esther, but given that she’s not religious or old…it doesn’t really fit. So, Fire it is. The three of us are as close as siblings, despite actually being cousins. So it’s not uncommon for us to call each other sis. We’ll just go over important Fire things since she’s the one you’ll meet today, if you’re still awake then.”

“It’s just twenty minutes.”

“Nah, it’ll be an hour, bare minimum. She’s worse with time than I am.” She shrugged. “So. She’s the oldest by two days, massive nerd. Even chubbier than I am, but gives the best hugs. Graduated the same college as I did, also with a psych degree, but a year after me. She’s as much of a klutz as I am. Also a bookworm, but she writes more than she reads these days. The three of us often have craft days, where we just sit together and work on our own shit.” Ora hummed. “Dunno what else you may need to know…?”

“I’m sure that will be fine.”

“Cool beans.”

“And she’s just… okay with this?”

“Well….. she’s going to give you a shovel talk, but yeah. We’re a chaos family. It’s fine.” She shrugged. “You’re the god of chaos, right? You’ll fit right in.”

“Mischief, but close enough. I am surprised that you’re so accepting of me being a god.”

Ora hummed. “I’m pagan and a mythology nerd. The idea of gods among us isn’t shocking to me. But I would be more skeptical if I hadn’t seen you during the invasion.”

Loki looked more withdrawn at that and she patted his arm. “Hey. I’m not blaming you. You said someone else was pulling the strings. I’m just saying I believe you’re a god because of it.” She shrugged. “I believe in moving forward, not focusing on the past.”

“Thank you. But in this case the past is a week ago.”

“Mmhm. And you said you’d stood trial, no matter how much of a sham it sounds like. So clean slate, in my book.”

Loki hummed softly. “I very much appreciate your insistence that I am worthwhile.”

Ora looked at him in confusion. “You’re alive. Of course you’re worthwhile. Why...” She cut herself off and shook her head. “No. You are a person of value and worth, no matter what else is going on. You might have made mistakes, but that should not be the end all and be all of your entire life. You deserve affection and kindness, and someone to stand at your side and believe you. Not conditionally. Period. If you don’t have someone to fill that position, I’m glad to until you find someone who fits you better.”

“And if I don’t find someone else?”

“Well, I suppose you’ll be stuck with me. Knowing my family, Fire and Char will stand by you too.”

“Thank you Ora.”

“Fair warning, you might be stuck with me anyway. I think you’re a pretty cool dude.”

“I will not force you.”

“You haven’t forced me to do anything. More like the other way around.” She squeezed his shoulder. “But we can talk more later. Rest. I’ll keep watch.”

Loki offered a smile and put his head back, letting his eyes close. “Thank you.”

Ora hummed her agreement and curled up as best she could on the chair, pulling up something to read while she kept an eye on everything. A few minutes later, she got a text from an unknown number.

“Shirt and blankets outside your room. Come and get them.”

Ora rolled her eyes. “I’m going to retrieve the blankets and shirt from the idiots outside.” she said softly. Loki’s soft grunt was the only response, and she smiled. She quietly opened the door and stuck her hand out. “Shirt please?”

“Hey, spoilsport!” Tony said before the shirt was draped over her hand.

“Ignore him. We usually do.” Captain America said.

“Thank you. One second.” She looked at the shirt before pulling it on. It was hideous and clearly from a hospital gift shop. But the worst part was that it was pink. She grumbled and stepped outside the room for a moment. “Thank you for the shirt. Even if it is pink.”

“And the blankets you requested.” Captain America offered them to her. “And I would like to apologize. We clearly got off on the wrong foot, and I would like to start over, if we could?”

Ora hummed. “I’m not going to apologize for protecting my fiancé. But a proper introduction isn’t a bad idea.” She held out her non casted hand. “Ora Zimbo, Loki’s fiancé. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Captain America, but you can call me Steve. The pleasure is mine.”

“Good to know you Steve. Fair warning, my cousin is going to be coming by and bringing me some stuff.”

“And how will we know her?”

Ora laughed. “You’ll know.” She turned to iron man. “I’m assuming you’re the one who texted? Thank you! Also, I understand you want to move Loki elsewhere once he’s stable? I’m going with.”

“I figured. Don’t worry, I won’t separate you lovebirds.”

“Good. I’ll talk to you guys later. Shoot me a text when Fire shows, please.” She waved and headed back into the room, quietly closing the door.

Loki cracked an eye open. “That shirt is hideous.”

“Absolutely. But better than no shirt, I think. We can burn it later. You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“Working on it. And you’re not as bad looking as you think.” He hummed softly, eye sliding closed again. He was clearly beyond exhausted.

Ora smiled. “Your injuries are making you loopy sweetie. But thank you.”

“Mhmm.”

Ora chuckled and settled back into her chair. She pulled out her phone and started looking for information on Greek mythology, especially Loki and Thor. She…would very much need to ask about some of these things. Like the kids.

Eventually, she got two simultaneous texts, from Fire and iron man. When she looked at the time, an hour and a half had passed. “Loki, Fire’s here.” She said softly.

His eyes slid open. “Give me a moment and I’d like to meet her.”

“Sure thing.” She replied to the texts. “Gonna play up the fiancé thing until the door is closed again.”

“Of course.” He chuckled sleepily and grunted with pain as he shifted in the bed.

“If Fire stayed for a while as well, would you let them give you pain meds?” Ora asked sympathetically.

“I do trust you, in truth. But I do not trust them. So no.”

#fire’s writings and drabbles #self insert #well #former self insert #chapter one #Ora #MCU Loki #original writing #fanfic #Loki fic

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