Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, King of Asgard (
pirateangelbaby) wrote2019-06-15 09:04 am
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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.
Thor has left his current address with the remaining Avengers, Loki (
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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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Prometheus has no reason to overdue the drinking, but he's not about to chastise Thor over it. If it continues into the winter, then he'll have something to say about it, certainly, but for now, his friend's grief is so raw that he won't deny him a small measure of dampening it.
"I know the place you're talking about." He'll leave that topic alone, as well. One might consider it a blessing that Thor has two alternates of his brother in the Nexus, but the Titan knows that it can also be a cruel reminder of what he's lost. The joke is sour in his own mind, but he tries not to let that show. "Hazel is a surprisingly reasonable nature spirit, I don't think she'll curse you now that you've made amends." He sighs and adds, "All the same, Thor, you're better off here. The Nexus has become more complicated than I had thought at first glance. Now that I think about it, Hertha and her children are probably better off here. I'll try hard not to convince her otherwise, it would only be for selfish reasons."
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Though it was not all that long ago, and only for the span of a year or so, there’s still a deep nostalgia in Thor for the glory days of the Avengers. What he wouldn’t give to return to those days! A more innocent time, when they did not know they were chasing an infinity stone, and Asgard had stood serene and beautiful in the cosmos, and the only grief that weighed heavy in his heart was his mother and brother alone.
The presence of his brother’s alternates is both a blessing and a curse, for all the reasons Prometheus thinks. Yet it was Loki whom Thor went to after the Snap, and after the Garden, and only Loki had been able to pull him back from the precipice. A reminder of all the reasons Thor has to mourn, but Thor would never trade this cursed gift for anything, clinging to what little he has left, no matter how much it hurts.
If any of Prometheus’ distaste at the joke shows on his face, Thor doesn’t notice at all. Speaking ill of the Nexus, subtle or not, does grab his attention however, and he frowns a little as he looks over at his friend. “You’re still welcome to visit,” he says, knowing he’s already said so before, but suddenly a little worried that Prometheus is considering going home and never returning to the Nexus, if he has decided the downsides outweigh the good. “There are no perfect solutions or perfect places, but the Nexus - and you - were there when we needed you most. If... if they’ve outgrown that need, that just means it did its job, right?”
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Haha, just kidding, he never lets his phone go below fifty percent.
Prometheus considers Loki's presence in the Nexus a gift as well. He has grown very fond of the both brothers, and though they are from different universes, he's grateful to the Fates that they can rely on one another in this trying time. And that their people had someone to care for them during their evacuation into the Nexus.
Picking up on Thor's worried tone, Prometheus smiles reassuringly. "Oh, I'll be here as often as I can," he says, relaxing back into the couch as if to demonstrate the point. "Whether they come here or not, I recognized many faces here and would love to help out as needed. My pottery shop does not need as much tending to as one would think. My numel has gotten quite good with the cash register."
He takes a sip from his glass, leaving Thor to picture Hephie working a machine with his stubby little feet. "Depending on how this winter goes, I may need an atlernate place to stay. But I have a few months to worry over that. You might want to think about what you'll do if the Nexus becomes inaccessible again."
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Privately, Thor muses that if the shop needs as little tending as Prometheus suggests, the sleepy little pokemon might spend a good deal of time catching up on his naps. Not that he's judging or anything. That'd make him quite the hypocrite. "Is the next step teaching him how to run the potter's wheel, too?" He's mostly joking. But that would be pretty convenient, wouldn't it?
Reminders of what kinds of trouble the Nexus might bring is slightly less welcome, of course, and his smile dims a bit as he takes another drink of mead. "Shouldn't be as dire this year, if it happens. I mean, with us being on Earth, we should still be able to get food and water. I might have to... speed things up."
Supplies are a problem he can do something about, so that's all he mentions. Not having access to Loki, or Prometheus, or his other Nexus friends... he has yet to test his sanity against that particular loss, whether it's short-lived or not, but part of Thor is afraid of what might happen to him if he truly needs help and cannot get it. So he'd rather not think of it, and just hope that it doesn't happen, knowing all the while that ignoring something has never once made it actually go away.
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"I have tried already," the Titan replies, amused by the question. "He doesn't have the dexterity for it, unfortunately. But he is a big help, regardless." Thor is probably right about the sleeping thing. It's not like Prometheus needs the revenue from his shop, although a cute little pokemon behind the counter does help sales.
He's glad to hear that Thor has given the future at least a little thought. "Speed things up?" he asks curiously, before taking a long sip of mead. Fates, this is a good mead. He'll have to pay a visit to the Viper's Pit sometime. Still, he can't shake his concern about Winter causing problems again. As if sensing that concern mirrored, he leans forward and pats Thor's knee. "Tell you what, if there are signs that the Nexus is going to go through another bad storm, I'll do what I can and then relocate here instead of my own world. If that is all right with you?"
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By now, Thor has had enough of the mead that the warmth of it is settling into his blood, and while it's responsible for some of the pink flush to his cheeks, not all of it can be blamed on the alcohol. "Yes, I uh... I have a talent. For fertility magic. Crops, babies, that sort of thing." A thousand years of thinking of it as women's magic is not so easily overcome as just deciding to embrace it, but it still might mean the difference between survival and withering away. The one thing he can still do to help his people in a real, tangible way. So embarrassment or not, there's no reason to deny this part of himself anymore. Nor should any other man among the Asgardians, should he have a talent for seidr.
If only his brother had lived to see the day.
That's a thought that will lead him back down a dark path, though, so the surprise of Prometheus' offer is a welcome distraction to cling to. "You'd do that?" he blurts out, then hastily corrects himself. "I mean yes, of course. There are still beds to spare, though you'd have to share space with someone. Everyone does."
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Thor may be a little embarrassed about his fertility magic, but Prometheus is positively enthralled. "No way!" he says, before lightly punching Thor in the shoulder in approval. "That's fantastic! I didn't know that was one of your powers. Be fruitful and multiply, huh?" Prometheus has many family members with that sort of power, male and female, so he's not put off by the topic in the least. "Your people are lucky, that's a wonderful ability to have. Zeus only makes more babies the old-fashioned way."
He chuckles a little at Thor's surprise and pats his knee again. It was an impulsive offer, at least by his standards, but he's glad that he made it. "No problem, I'll keep myself human-sized when I'm indoors," he jokes. "If I can't bunk with Hertha and her kids, then I'll just have to make a new friend." Best of all, he can continue to be himself and not pretend that he's mortal.
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Much of the teasing had come from his peers, mostly fellow warriors. Nearly all of them are gone now, and for those that do remain, the Valkyrie stands as an unquestioned example for the people to look up to, despite being a woman. After that, maybe a king with seidr more suited for hearth and home might not be scorned so much.
Either way, Prometheus’ enthusiastic response does little to lessen the blush on his cheeks, even as it lightens his spirit. “It’s not exactly something I’m known for these days,” he mutters into his drink, but he still looks pleased not to be teased about it. “My mother, she was the goddess of motherhood, among other things. I inherited it from her. Though the storm helps too, when it comes to drought and the like.” Six short years is not enough time to fully banish the grief of losing her, but at least it’s an older grief, one he has plenty of practice handling.
If there’s one thing that Thor does not hold in question, it’s Prometheus’ ability to make friends. “You’d find no shortage of open doors here,” he assures his friend, thinking on all those that the titan had helped shelter during those first harrowing weeks after... well, after. “I should introduce you to Korg sometime,” Thor says out loud, before he can follow that train of thought too closely. “He’s the friendly type, very easy-going, though he has been having a bit of trouble with low ceilings with these Midgardian houses.”
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"Plenty of my relatives have fertility powers," he tells Thor, both as conversation and as a bid to lessen his embarrassment. "Even my cousin Artemis, who's about as chaste as someone can be, was called upon during difficult childbirths." He lifts up his glass of mead. "Dionysius, too. Not the chaste part, the fertility part. The boy keeps himself busy."
The Titan has no doubt, either, in fact he's looking forward to it. "Oh, is he the rock giant you told me about? I'd love to meet him." He pauses, then asks hesitantly, "Do you think I could bring Steropes here sometime? He wouldn't frighten your people, would he? I've been researching places to take him, once I can convince Hephaestus to let him take a little time off."
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For now, in any case, his hands have stopped shaking altogether now, much of the worst aftereffects of the panic attack muffled or banished entirely under the warmth of alcohol and the company of a friend. Particularly one who's given him something to think about that isn't choked with loss. "I've had to do that," he says, in regards to attending a laboring woman. "You might've met the last one, actually. Solvi and her little Joruun? They were some of those staying with Loki."
He's visited with them himself a few times, but ever since the ill-fated trip to the Garden, he's made himself rather more scarce. It isn't that he doesn't want to see them, but sometimes it's all just too overwhelming, and the baby especially doesn't need the stress he'd be responsible for. But out of all his citizens that have survived, he's guiltily thankful that Solvi and her little one are among their number.
But there are less harrowing topics to talk about, and with the strong mead doing its work, the tension in Thor's body is relaxing, his gestures becoming broader and more expressive as a comfortable fog begins to settle in. "Oh no, it'd take more than a giant to scare Asgardians." There's a different word for what Steropes is, but Thor can't quite remember it at the moment. "The Sakaarans, too. There's a couple species living here, not that any of them are that big, but he wouldn't stand out a lot. Wouldn't fit in any buildings though." Thor scratches at his beard with his prosthetic hand, thinking. "Is this too cold for him here? It doesn't get much warmer than this."
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It's nice to see Thor relaxing, even though part of that is because of the mead. He settles a little more himself, happy to hear that his cyclops friend is welcome, although he feels the need to confirm by adding, "Yes, but his whole one-eye thing. I know that can be off-putting to some." It wouldn't fly at all on his Earth, that's for sure. "He'd be fine in this weather, he's very hardy. I'll find him some nice warm clothes to wear when he visits." Handmade, of course. There's no Big and Tall store big or tall enough for Steropes.
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Thor blinks and laughs roughly, tapping a finger on his eyepatch. Or tries to, anyway, hitting his cheekbone instead. "They've had a one-eyed king for fifteen hundred years. Or maybe more, I dunno. Can't trust my father's history anymore. But they've still got me doing the same thing. And the gladiators don't look like us either. Had one with three heads for a while. Trust me, he'd be fine."
He's not even worried about the humans seeing Steropes here, either. The village is remote, for one, and with aliens not only known about but walking around in public, it shouldn't be that remarkable to have someone like the cyclops paying a visit. "Good! Just give us a heads up, maybe we can... put together a tour, or something."
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The Titan lets out a guffaw. "Smartass," he says, lightly smacking Thor's knee. "You know what I mean." But he's finally reassured when Thor mentions the gentleman with three heads. All right then. "Sounds like Steropes will fit right in. And he'd be happy to help out while he's here. You'd be surprised, with his gigantic hands, but he's excellent at intricate detail work."
A tour. Steropes would like that. Of course, Steropes would be happy to just sit by the dock and watch the water. "Sounds like a plan. And you can let your people know what to expect, too." He frowns thoughtfully. "Are there other pantheons here, on Earth?"
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If Steropes wants to lend a hand, of course, there's never a shortage of work in Asvera. Not that Thor tries to think about that, with how unhelpful he himself has been so far. Sure, he got them land to call their own, but since then... it wouldn't be inaccurate to say he's been drifting.
He doesn't think about that now, either. Right now, in this moment, his only concern is more mead. And more conversation, preferably that doesn't have anything to do with all the awful shit that's been dragging him down. "What, like, physically?" he asks, frowning too. "Nope. Plenty people used to believe in, but it's all stories. Like I used to be." It's weirdly funny, in hindsight, and he chuckles at the thought. It's strange how quickly Midgardians forget. Or... maybe it's not. Asgard forgot Hela, after all. His frown returns, and he tips up his glass to empty it again.
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Of course, Prometheus seems like he's doing a good job of being idle, but he really isn't. He's comforting a friend, which is very important. Unfortunately, with that frown on Thor's face, he feels like he's only doing a passable job. "Well, that's good news for me," he says lightly, hoping to brighten the mood. "I'd hate to run into alternates of my family here. That'd be awkward to explain."
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Speaking of which, it occurs to him that it's been a bit since he last heard a rumble of thunder. While the skies outside are still gray and damp, the sudden thunderstorm that he'd called up has mostly moved off and dissolved now, losing its energy out over the ocean.
One of the good things about Thor's newfound tendency to drink a bit too much is that he's easier to distract. Part of the reason why he does it, really. So that's all it takes to recapture his attention, keeping his thoughts from drifting in a direction he doesn't want. "Oh, sure. Don't want them on my territory either. Don't they have some mountain all to themselves? That one's mine," he says, gesturing with his empty glass in the vague direction of the mainland. It took so much to get this land in the first place; strange gods showing up and muscling in on his turf is the last thing he wants.
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It's not something he normally shares, but the warmth of the mead and Thor's own vulnerable state had made his tongue looser than usual. "Anyway, you've met Steropes. He's like a big, one-eyed puppy. He can make lightning bolts for Zeus, but not literal lightning, no."
Then he laughs again, more heartily. "Olympus," he says. "You know what, the next time I'm here, I'm giving you a book on Greek mythology. It's not fair for me to have such an advantage, when the only thing you know about me is that some nun tried to get frisky with me a few hundred years ago."
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He'd ask why some gods are such dicks, but he can't exactly point fingers himself. It was only a decade ago that Thor himself was too arrogant to think things through before he acted, and nearly caused at least one war because of his foolishness.
Belatedly, it occurs to him that he probably could've spent his recent time on Midgard more productively by learning more about his friend's pantheon, either through the internet or by finding some television channel that might tell him more about it. He doesn't have too much time to feel guilty about that though, because the reminder of the story makes him laugh, a little more free with his amusement than he'd been before he'd downed half a keg of mead. "Oh, that's not all I know," he says, elbowing Prometheus with a grin. "I know you've got family drama worse than mine ever was, and that you're a good man despite it. In spite of it. One of those."
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Gods may not die, but a loss in believers can make them fade into obscurity, at least on the Titan's world. Zeus's name is remembered, but only in stories. There might be a few worshippers here and there, but not enough to keep him at his once ancient glory.
Aww, Thor, you're making Prometheus blush. He grins and elbows back good-naturedly. It's true, his family drama was pretty out of control in the beginning there. That's safe to assume, even if Thor only knows about his baby-swallowing uncle. Although taking into account what has happened to Thor and his people, Prometheus is perhaps a little grateful that life has been rather stable on his planet since the early years.
"Would you like to know more? I can tell you about all the ridiculous things Zeus has shape-shifted into over the years just to get laid."
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He doesn't like to think about that part.
In light of all that, a friendship with someone just as long-lived is a godsend, if one pardons the pun. Between Prometheus' cheerful presence and the warmth of the alcohol, Thor's mind is being kept from the worst of such thoughts. His eyebrows go up at the question, thinking of the ridiculous tales that the humans have about such things. Mostly when Loki is involved. "Don't tell me they credit him with creating an eight-legged horse too."
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He takes another sip of mead, nearly emptying his glass. "Was that Sleipnir you were referring to? Where'd he come from?"
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Yeah, on hearing this story, Thor’s not surprised that Hera is grumpy either. “And she still stays with him, knowing that?” Though if he knew that Hera’s wrath tends to get directed at the poor mortals and the like that Zeus seduces, rather than her horny husband, he’d have other questions, probably ones that Prometheus couldn’t answer. Either way, he thinks it’s a damn good thing that Prometheus tends to stay the hell away from that side of his family.
Sleipnir is a far more familiar topic, and Thor nods, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Father always told us that he was a gift when he first took the throne, presented by some dignitary from another Realm. Maybe that’s true, I dunno. I know he had Sleipnir when Hela was still conquering worlds, I saw it on a mural in the palace,” he adds, a troubled frown on his face before he shakes his head. “He was unique, one of a kind. Loki always figured if horses prayed to anybody, it’d be Sleipnir.”
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On the subject of Hera, the Titan shrugs. "It's good to be the Queen. She puts up with a lot of bullshit, but she gives as good as she gets, too. Honestly, between the two of them, I'd be more afraid of her. Her vengeance is legendary. I always liked talking to her, though. When she's not in a jealous rage, she can be pretty reasonable."
Hearing the story of Sleipnir's origin is fascinating, even if there isn't much to it. "I was hoping it wasn't like what I read," he says, then holds up a hand in appeasement. "Not that there's anything wrong with having a horse for a kid, but, uh... well, I like that your family isn't quite so... feral. In that sense, anyway." Even though talk of Loki is a sensitive subject, he adds quietly, "Your brother is very good with children. The Asgardian kind... probably the human kind, too."
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Prometheus' haste to assure him that having animals for children is nothing to be ashamed of gets a quiet chuckle out of Thor. "The humans do have vivid imaginations, don't they? Fenrir didn't turn out to be one of his children either; she was Hela's warbeast, though just as fierce as the legends say. It took Hulk to take her down."
It's still so strange to Thor to mourn one Loki while another still remains accessible to him, nearly identical to the point where there are days where Thor forgets that they were different people at all. Yet even in years past, when Thor had seen his brother die and later had him turn up alive and well, the relief of having him back had done little to lessen the horror of having watched his death in the first place. And this last time was the worst of them all, all the more for knowing that it was real, and the Loki that yet lives in the Nexus still died at the Mad Titan's hand. His smile is a little watery, this too-familiar grief well settled in his chest and muffled enough under the blur of drink that it doesn't drive him to begin weeping again. "He is. More than I'd thought he would be. I'd always hoped that he would make a good uncle to my children, when I'd have them. Maybe raise his as cousins to mine." That had been before either of them had learned the truth, that they were not brothers by blood, and then things had changed so rapidly - Loki's fall, his madness, redemption and fate coming to bear too quickly for them to settle fully into a new paradigm.
Thor had assumed they would have more time to talk about it, to figure out where they stand. He's glad to have had that opportunity with the Loki who yet lives, a second chance that the brother of this world will never have now. The only comfort he has is that Loki must surely rest in Valhalla, where the brave shall live forever.
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Ugh, this is depressing. He scrubs his face and sits back up. "Fenrir," he repeats, then blinks. "The giant wolf! Now there's a creature that would have fit right in where I'm from. Fates, am I glad to hear that he was taken care of. I'd have to stay permanently huge if he was out and about for my own safety."
It is touching, to hear Thor speak about raising his children alongside Loki's as cousins. It sounds like a hope from a long time ago, something to be cherished, even if it can no longer be true. He smiles, softly and with understanding. "Do you think you'd like to settle down in that way? Take a wife, or... you know, whatever your personal preference is, and have children? I can tell you from personal experience that raising a child is a unique experience. Creating children out of clay is rewarding, as well, but it's not the same."
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