pirateangelbaby | Even a God Can Need a Friend [Open to friends]

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Even a God Can Need a Friend [Open to friends]

[OOC: This post and its threads may contain Endgame spoilers. Potential trigger warnings include depression, alcohol abuse, and suicidal thoughts. (See the bottom section of Thor's updated permissions page for more detail on relevant warnings, Thor’s triggers, and a disclaimer about his narration style.) If you intend to tag Thor and are sensitive to this kind of content, please let me know before we begin so that I can provide a safer roleplay experience for you. Individual threads on this post will not be warned for on a case by case basis.

Thor has left his current address with the remaining Avengers, Loki (

coldsong), Prometheus (

liverfree), and Sif (

lady_sif). Other close friends are welcome to visit by getting coordinates from those listed, which may be done offscreen (of the Avengers, Rocket is the most likely to be out and about in the Nexus right now) - if in doubt, please ask the relevant mun. This post is intended to provide Thor with moral support as he grapples with his mental health; each thread will be treated as though it is a different day entirely so his mood and the immediate setting may vary. I do not mind slow tags, and this post will be perpetually open for a long while, so don't worry if you can't get to it right away but still want to play.]

Above the Arctic Circle, in the far north of Norway, the village formerly known as Henningsvær sprawls out across a tiny chain of islands. Despite the approach of summer, the weather is cool and overcast, sea breezes often sweeping through the narrow streets. For those approaching by road, the small single-lane bridge leading from the mainland now boasts a hand-painted sign in Norsk and Asgardian runes welcoming visitors to Asvera, which the local humans have taken to calling New Asgard. Population: 832.

Though much of the world still feels half-empty and apocalyptic, there is little of that here. Asgard has filled the empty spaces, each house claimed and occupied, as well as several hotels that once served seasonal tourists. Fishing boats come and go from the harbor, dock workers hard at work learning to repair nets and lines, others processing the day’s catch for consumption. There is no market, no selling of goods; everything is distributed communally through the grocery on the main island, every citizen entitled to a share, every citizen expected to work to support the others, save for the children who are too young.

The village is quiet, but busy. There is always work to be done, or new skills to learn to survive in their new home. The king, however, may not be so easy to find. Here in the tiny Norwegian village, there is no golden palace to give visitors a place to start looking. Perhaps it’s best to ask for directions.

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Harley has stayed with Thor for over a week now. There were moments when she left the cottage (and he might have hoped that she gave up on him), but it was usually always to get supplies.

Two days after she announced she was staying -- her supplies included a hammock for her to sleep in, a few changes of clothes, and a trampoline.

She has done little things to get Thor onto a routine. Starting his day with breakfast (which she never forces him to eat), and getting him juice or soda in the afternoon so he doesn't spend the whole day drinking. And once in a while, she convinces him to go for a walk. Or to see the work that is being done around the village.

The greenhouse idea was supported by Harley completely. After all, it would be good for the Village to produce their own vegetables and fruit. So as the greenhouse is built, Harley does her best to get Thor interested in the process.

One day, when she disappears for supplies, she comes back to the Cottage with another woman with her. The tall green-skinned woman attracted some attention when she first arrived at the Village. There were a few men who wanted to keep on following her (and Harley too). But all she had to tell them is to keep up their good work on the repairs needed around the village, and they were more than happy to oblige.

Harley entered the cottage with a big grin. "Thor! We have some company!"

Having constant company is... strange.

It hadn't been like this at the Avengers compound. There, he'd had his own room, a private sanctum where he could close the door and lock himself away from the others for a while. At least, until they became concerned enough that Banner would come in to check on him. But here he's open, exposed, and while Harley gives him space at times, it's different knowing that she is still there. Watching when he loses track of time, staring dumbly at the television while seeing none of it. Listening when he wakes from a nightmare, tangled in blankets and gasping for breath, unable to calm himself and sleep again without the warm embrace of mead to muffle his screams.

He's lost his temper once or twice, irritable beyond even his own understanding, resentful that he's being nursemaided and even more upset with himself for needing to be pestered into eating, or taking a shower, or getting out around the village, fully aware that he should and yet often unable to make himself do it on his own. He doesn't understand himself anymore, trapped in a cycle of apathy and frustration, and running under it all is the deep guilt which colors his every move, his every thought, reminds him that he doesn't deserve this kind of care. Not him.

But not every day is a wholly bad one, either. Though it's hard to get himself out the door in the first place, there are times when he's come back feeling... not whole, not healed, but less gloomy, maybe. Once he even let the sun come out, for a little while, making its slow loop around the horizon yet never setting fully. And there is something oddly soothing about watching reruns of some cartoon together, with Harley curled up in the armchair and laughing at the antics of the animated characters on the screen.

Today, he's making an attempt to comb his hair after too long of leaving it alone, grown long enough that it's snarled beyond the limits of his energy and patience to fix. He grimaces a little when she calls out, and jams his hat onto his head, uncaring that it will only make the problem worse in the end, before coming out to see who is calling on him now. One of his people, he assumes, up until he lays eyes on a woman he's never seen before in his life. "Oh. Uh... hello."

Harley has stood by Thor during the ups and downs. Even when he lost his temper. He might get angry at his situation... but Harley understands why he is angry. And lets him vent his angry his own way (it has not been directed at her in any physical or mental way).

Harley beams at him, when he makes his appearance. The woman beside her stays close to Harley for now, a curious glance around the building.

"This is Pamela, my BFF. Pamela, this is Thor." She makes the introductions.

"I asked her here so we could get a great start on the greenhouse. Pam is the best when it comes to plants."

Pamela glances over to Thor. And nods softly. "Nice to meet you."

Had Harley told him that her friend was coming? Thor doesn't remember, though this would hardly be the first thing he's forgotten in recent days. It should make him anxious, but for some reason the flare of nervousness is muted, and he nods slightly to Pamela in greeting.

"And you," he answers, his gaze sweeping over her. She does not look entirely human, though what else she is, he can't tell. But then she is not the only one in the village right now who might stand out a little; the handful of Sakaarans gladiators who survived the massacre have decided to stay in Asvera too.

Though he has found it easy to lose track of what's discussed at his council meetings - if they can be called that - he vaguely recalls mention of the greenhouse construction being completed. "You're a farmer?"

"I am a biologist. And environmental activist." Pamela chuckles softly.

Harley bumps her shoulder into the other woman. "Go ahead. You can show him what you can do."

Pamela gives her a slight smile. She outstretches her hand. And within seconds, a flower appears, wrapping itself around her fingers.

He frowns, not entirely sure what that means, but his attention is caught immediately at the feeling of strange yet familiar seidr prickling in her palm. And no wonder - though the power she uses is not the same, Thor would recognize her magical commands even if he were missing both his eyes. Grow. Bloom. Flourish.

“Oh,” he says, a faint touch of appreciative awe in his voice as he reaches out to touch the blossom. A little life, where there was none before. He can’t resist sending a little thread of his own seidr into the bloom, encouraging it to grow greener, healthier, its scent perfuming the air.

"Careful... just touch the flower, and not my fingers." Pamela doesn't know what Thor's resistance would be to the biochemical toxins that her body produces. And would not want to see Harley's friend get sick, or fevered, right now.

"It will be great to see the village growing their own stuff... but I thought with Pamela's help, we can determine what plants would go best in this climate. And maybe get a head start on some things... so we'all have food by harvest time," Harley grins.

It’s a good idea, and one that has crossed Thor’s mind once or twice himself. But, convinced that he would do more harm than good, and lacking the will to actually do anything about it, he’d left it at simply a thought and nothing more.

Now, though... maybe it is because he would not be doing it alone, but it does not seem so bad. “I could help,” he offers, surprising even himself at how easily he says it. Where did that come from? Hadn’t he just been too tired to deal with his hair? Thor doesn’t understand what has changed, if anything even has, but it feels like it has been so long since he’s felt like doing anything of his own free will that he doesn’t question it too deeply.

"That would be wonderful." Pamela smiles at him. Harley places one arm in the notch of Thor's elbow, and the other in Pamela's elbow, and grins at them both.

"You should give her a proper tour. Pamela usually prefers a warmer climate. But she is interested in what this place has to offer."

"Yes..." Pamela nods. "It is so kind of you, to offer a safe haven for Harley."

Thor’s smile is small and uncertain, but it’s still a smile nonetheless. “I guess that’d be all right... we have to walk a bit to get there.”

This time, it does not seem so difficult to leave the house, for some reason. Thor’s voice is a little rough from disuse, but he finds the words begin to flow a little easier the more he speaks, pointing out little landmarks as they venture to the greenhouse, interspersed here and there between houses and hotels-turned-dorms. He does not walk them all the way out to the islands closest to the mainland, with little of interest there to see up close just yet, but he does point out the rocky bluff of Odin’s Tower across the water.

The greenhouse is several minutes’ walk from the lighthouse-keeper’s cottage, nestled in a space where a small parking lot used to be. It smells of fresh lumber and tilled soil, and the glass gleams cleanly. Multiple rows of dirt have been prepared to accept seeds and seedlings, some at ground level, others raised onto tables for easier tending. Nothing is growing yet, though there are shipments of seeds and bulbs collected against one wall, waiting to be planted.

Pamela is really interested in the landmarks that he points out. Asking questions here and there. When he points out Odin's Tower, she starts across the water, a little respectful and awed.

A satisfied smile comes to her lips, at the smell of the tilled soil in the greenhouse. And she immediately heads to touch the dirt, to see if she can determine the soil quality.

"Oh look at all these seeds!" Harley grins. "You got a nice haul here."

Pamela will find the dirt to be a mix of local soil, which is relatively poor in nutrients, and enriched potting soil that must have come from the general store. Not ideal growing conditions, but this far north, it is better than the rocky earth that is typical of this region.

Thor has not visited the greenhouse himself before, and moves to look at the seeds, lightly running his fingers over the labels as he looks over what they have. Some, he recognizes; basic vegetables like potatoes, turnips, onions, beans. Barley and wheat, juniper and lingonberries. “Gifts from the Norwegian government,” he tells Harley, and it’s odd that the twinge of guilt he usually feels does not come at the reminder that they can be so generous because these resources are not needed by those who are gone. “Part of the initial supplies to get us on our feet.”

"We will have to make sure that we get some good plant food, to balance out the nutrients that are missing in this soil." Pamela notes softly. "I can help with providing a good mixture recipe."

"That was nice of them. Ya'know we could create a little memorial garden right in the middle, and maybe a statue. And we could use the Norwegian flag to create a little flower garden to honor their generosity," Harley bounces on her heels for a second, picturing it out in her head.

"Come on, you two..." Pamela holds out a hand, where she is kneeling by the soil.

"Oh! Goodie! I love this part..." Harley bounces over to Pamela, taking the other woman's offered hand. And getting pulled down, a little playfully, by Pamela.

Momentarily puzzled by the mention of plant food, as none of these crops are carnivorous, Thor's eye lights up a little as he realizes there's something he can do here. Something helpful. Something that Loki had urged him to do, in vague muddled memories, which he had nearly forgotten. "No need. Just a moment."

Thor reaches out a hand over the waiting earth, and closes his eye. Faint wisps of blue seidr curl around his palm, like a gentler rendition of the lightning he has called on for centuries, and while it has been quite some time since Thor has blessed a field, he has not forgotten how. His magic sinks into the dirt, darkening its dusty hue to a richer brown, infusing it with nitrogen and phosphorus, strengthening the soil's ability to support life. The air inside the greenhouse slowly becomes a little more humid, and while the cloudy skies still hide the sun, the daylight is still enough to warm the enclosed space to a comfortable temperature.

He opens his eye again, looking over his handiwork with a small, hopeful smile. "That's better."

Pamela can feel the blessing that Thor is invoking over the waiting earth. She can sense how it strengthens the soil's ability to support life. She can feel how happy the soil is to be nourished and supported. She can feel how it even affects the plant-based powers that exist in her body. And she feels his magic calling to her on a deeper level.

Another layer of flowers grow spontaneously, covering the areas of her body that are already 'dressed' by other flowers.

"What a remarkable man..." She hums to herself, as the air inside the greenhouse becomes more of her liking. More humid.

"He would be such as asset..."

"Red! Nu-huh!" Harley shakes her finger at the other woman.

"But Harley..."

"I said... Nu-huh!" Harley reinforces it with her hands on her hips.

Pamela nods softly. "It is much better. Thank you Thor."

In the old days, Thor might have been embarrassed to call upon his lesser-used magics, the inheritance from his mother more suited for a daughter than a son, and something that had earned him some good-natured teasing at his expense when he was still a boy. But since Ragnarok... since the Statesman... it hasn't seemed to matter as much anymore. Especially not today.

Later, he'll think it strange that he has no reservations about using this feminine magic in front of others, but with this unnatural boost to his mood comes a strange inability to question it at all. He has not felt this good in a long time now, still a far cry from what he once was, but pulled free from the mire of his guilt and grief as Pamela's pheromones circulate within him. Thor's smile is shy, but pleased, watching her reaction. And while he has no idea what Harley is forbidding her from doing, it doesn't matter enough for him to ask.

What matters is he helped. He did something good, something that will lead to more food for his people, and he didn't screw it up.

He kneels next to the others by the dirt, ready to continue. Ready to do something, in a way he has not been in weeks. "What's next?"

If there was ever two people who would embrace and celebrate Thor's feminine magic, it would be these two women. Harley and Pamela.

Pamela has found a new appreciation of the God. And Harley has another celebratory moment to share with Loki, next time she sends him a letter. She has started to write to him every once and a while. Even with the welcome distraction of helping Thor through his depression, the other God is still on Harley's mind.

"We decide on how far apart we need the holes, to plant the seeds. Different plants have different requirements." Pamela explains. "There are plants that need a lot of space to spread their roots. While there are others that want to be close to other plant life."

"I think we should start with some of those vegetables. Then come fall we can make Rock Soup!" Harley grins.

"Potatoes are generous plants. They should be 12 inches apart. And because potatoes can be a little greedy at times... it is best not to grow them close to your other crops." Pamela noted softly. "It will be necessary to hill your potatoes. To watch them grow. And bury the growth with soil. They are quite remarkable, continuing to find strength and growth, even with being buried."

"Your turnips should be planted closer to the fall. They desire to be closer to each other, only requiring two inches of space from each other."

"Like most other roots vegetables... turnips do best with carrots and radishes. Turnips are easy to care for," Pamela explains.

"Onions are another cool season crop. They enjoy having a long day, with lots of sunlight, to produce bigger bulbs. Give them three inches of space, in strong daylight, and they will thrive nicely."

"The beans are a climbing plant. So they need to be against a wall, or a support system, so they can climb up. Beans also love direct sunlight. You have to watch your moisture levels around the beans, since excess heat or humidity can cause diseases."

"Barley and wheat does best in cool ground. They need sun, and a lot of space. I would recommend a large field, if there is one available," explains Pamela.

"The juniper is a shrub, that would be nice in that memorial garden idea that Harley had. Or as a base around the building. They smell nice. And love space to grow out, and spread out."

"And finally, the lingonberries. They are another plant that requires space, since they fill in that space quite quickly. You don't want them overcrowding your other plants. They love water, and it is best for them to get watered in the morning, so they have time to dry off. The amazing thing about lingonberries... you actually prune off the flowers in their first year, so they grow stronger the next."

Pamela lets all the information get absorbed by Thor. And she looks around the greenhouse, to determine places that would be well suited for each of the plants that were gifted to them.

"So you tell me Thor... what comes next?" Pamela softly inquires.

The minutiae of growing crops has never been something Thor had bothered to learn; his lessons had always revolved around the large-scale effects that a king would need to someday be concerned about, and his talent for fertility magic has always been more instinctual, primal, a force of nature that needs no intellect to guide it.

So he listens raptly as Pamela speaks, nearly as focused on her as he is on what she's saying, with his flesh-and-bone hand half-buried beneath the soft dirt, absently sifting it through his fingers and feeling the little sparks of life burrowing through the soil.

It is such a small decision, to determine which crops to plant and where. But it is also the first decision that Thor has felt like making in weeks, the anxiety muted beneath this strange serenity that has yet to fade and leave him to his sorrows. So it is with hesitant confidence that he looks around the greenhouse, and gives voice to his thoughts. "Potatoes and onions first," he decides thoughtfully. "We'll put the beans on the growing tables."

"Okay, to start the potatoes, we need to dig straight, shallow trenches. Each trench should be two inches apart from the next." Pamela looks around for a couple of gardening tools, and finds a few hoes. She presents one to Thor with a smile.

"The onions also need trenches. But they need to be further apart. Harley you could start on the other end for those." Pamela instructed.

It's almost meditative, digging in the dirt, working with his hands. Building something, rather than tearing it down. Every seed he plants in the damp earth is more food for his people, the potential for growth and goodness given a chance to bloom, with time and patience.

Though Thor pays little attention to it, the skies slowly clear as they work, the sun peeking through the clouds for the first time in several days.

It's not difficult work, but nevertheless when they finally stand back and look at their handiwork, Thor feels good about what they've accomplished, small though it is. Little wet hills of earth mark where each seed and bulb is buried, and a little chicken wire for the beans to climb as they grow. It's not enough to sustain the entire village, not by a long shot. But it's a start, humble though it is. A first step.

Both Pam and Harley are covered with dirt by the time the work is done. But they are both laughing, and still enjoying their time. So it was well worth it.

Pamela looks at the seeds and bulbs, a satisfied smile on her face. She could use her abilities to hasten their growing abilities. But wants to give something to Thor and his people to look after. They will feel more satisfied eating the vegetables if they are the ones to look after them, and care for them.

"We all need a shower..." Harley grins at Pamela. The other woman rolls her eyes. But still smiles.

"And perhaps supper, if I am invited to your home for such a meal," Pamela glances over to Thor with a smile.

They're not the only ones bearing the marks of the afternoon's hard work. Thor has a dirty streak across his forehead where he'd wiped sweat away, and his arms are brown up to the elbows, though it clings more to his flesh arm than the metal one.

Mention of a meal gives him pause as he brushes the worst of the dirt from his knees. Thor is genuinely not sure when was the last time he looked in the pantry, and can't remember if there is anything fit to serve all of them. Harley has been doing more of the cooking lately, when it comes to actual meals and not just eating his way through a bag of chips or a box of snack cakes.

"We might have to stop by the grocery first."

"I never got a really good look at the grocery when I first arrived," Pamela smiles, appreciating the suggestion.

"It would be a good thing to get a few more groceries in the cottage. Ohhhh… let's find out if they have corn we can pop. For tonight!" Harley grins.

Thor is familiar with popcorn from his time with the Avengers, and a handful of occasions that Stark had called 'movie night.' While he hadn't completely understood some of the movies he's been shown, Thor had still enjoyed the experience at the time. So he nods slightly, as he approaches the water's edge to rinse his hands clean in the cold sea before they head back.

The path back to his cottage would have taken them past the grocery anyway, so it is no detour to stop there on the way. The store is quite small, and the aisles are well-sorted, though the labels on the shelves do not often match what is being kept there, the distribution managed by a single Asgardian woman who is occupied with sorting the latest shipment of dried goods and putting them away. A child toddles along in her wake, a little boy who looks to be around three years old, grasping at the train of her skirt as if he cannot stand to be separated from her.

The woman looks up at the sound of the door opening, and does a double-take when she sees who has walked in. "Your Majesty," she greets him, surprised. Her gaze flicks over the two women as well, recognizing Harley from her presence around the village, though not the green-skinned woman with her. "Is there something I can help you find?"

Neither Harley or Pamela worry about cleaning the dirt off their hands or arms right now. After all, Pamela enjoys having the earth on her body. And Harley is just living life at its fullest.

They both smile at the Asgardian woman who is managing the grocery.

"Whatcha going to make for supper, Thor?" Harley asks him, an easy smile in his direction. Letting him decide on what supplies they will need. It is one more little thing that might mean a lot, after time.

"Do you have corn kernels? And cooking oil?" Pamela asks, still interested in making popcorn later.

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