Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, King of Asgard (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pirateangelbaby) wrote2021-02-20 01:26 pm
pirateangelbaby) wrote2021-02-20 01:26 pm
Entry tags:
Getting Back on the Horse [for liverfree]
The Plaza may currently be knee-deep in snow, but not everywhere in the Nexus is so inundated.
This particular region is quite some distance from the familiar grounds that Thor knows. It's still winter, a faint chilly bite to the air, but the weak sunshine is warm on the withered grass of the field, and there are a few muddy patches in spots where icemelt has puddled and soaked in. Compared to a polar winter, it's positively balmy, the air temperature above freezing enough to be tolerable, if not comfortable.
Thor has had little reason to wear his armor since the day of the final battle. It's strange to wear it again, stranger still that he's already become so used to the soft fabrics of Midgardian fashion that donning familiar leathers seem almost foreign. He's foregone the cape and scaled sleeves, leaving his arms bare and his movement unhindered by flapping cloth. The black metal of his left arm shines under the sunshine, and it feels a little odd to have it so exposed, but it's all right. He can't be self-conscious of it in front of Prometheus, after all.
He leaves Stormbreaker standing on its head as he ties back his hair, weaving a quick braid to hold the length of it together at the nape of his neck. "Same rules as last time?" he asks Prometheus, raising his eyebrows. Trying to behave as though the last two years have not left their mark on him, despite the glaring evidence otherwise.
This particular region is quite some distance from the familiar grounds that Thor knows. It's still winter, a faint chilly bite to the air, but the weak sunshine is warm on the withered grass of the field, and there are a few muddy patches in spots where icemelt has puddled and soaked in. Compared to a polar winter, it's positively balmy, the air temperature above freezing enough to be tolerable, if not comfortable.
Thor has had little reason to wear his armor since the day of the final battle. It's strange to wear it again, stranger still that he's already become so used to the soft fabrics of Midgardian fashion that donning familiar leathers seem almost foreign. He's foregone the cape and scaled sleeves, leaving his arms bare and his movement unhindered by flapping cloth. The black metal of his left arm shines under the sunshine, and it feels a little odd to have it so exposed, but it's all right. He can't be self-conscious of it in front of Prometheus, after all.
He leaves Stormbreaker standing on its head as he ties back his hair, weaving a quick braid to hold the length of it together at the nape of his neck. "Same rules as last time?" he asks Prometheus, raising his eyebrows. Trying to behave as though the last two years have not left their mark on him, despite the glaring evidence otherwise.