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' 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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Fenrir, of all things, is a happier subject to discuss. Or at least not depressing for both of them. The final battle for Asgard had been a victory, maybe the last one that Thor has ever had, no matter how it had turned out in the end. "Oh, yes. Hulk threw her right off the edge of the world, otherwise I'm not sure how we would have stopped her. I was busy fighting Hela herself at the time, as well as her army of undead. If there's a Jormungandr out there as well, I haven't met him yet."
Ever since that fateful day at the Garden, Thor has found it difficult to think of the future, what might become of him and his people beyond the immediate day-to-day. Everything he'd thought he was prepared for, the type of kingship he'd been raised to expect, has been tipped on its head and left him floundering in the aftermath. Yet at the same time, he's aware - always aware - that even with the number of children saved, their people number so few now that they can't afford to not have new children to pass their knowledge and traditions to. Especially when it comes to the royal family, of which there is no one left but Thor. "Yeah. I'm supposed to. I am still king, for what that's worth these days." He gestures vaguely with his glass in the direction of the village beyond his walls, and doesn't really manage to smile. "You know, I'd always hoped I'd marry for love, not politics. My father didn't start pushing on the matter until I courted Jane because he disapproved of my choice. But that's over now anyway."
He does still mourn their breakup, but truly, Thor understands that it was for the best. Especially now, when he has seen so much death. How much harder would her loss hit him after eighty or so years together, only to lose her to the inevitability of age? Not to mention any children they would have together. Thor would outlive them all. He does not regret loving Jane, and he never will. Those days are fond memories, bittersweet though they are in hindsight, and he cherishes them. But in this... maybe Odin was right to try dissuading his son from a path that could lead to nowhere but heartbreak.
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His nose wrinkles at the mention of the sea serpent. "If he does, we can toss him at the kraken and let them fight it out on an abandoned planet. Like a... oh, what do the humans call them? A kaiju movie." He's being a bit irreverent because of the mead, but it is fun sometimes to speculate.
As the conversation turns back to marriage and children, he listens silently, a moment or two passing before he replies. "I don't see why you still can't marry for love. I married for love and I wasn't even looking for a relationship. Was Jane a mortal, was that why your father disapproved?" The Titan has always had a deep discomfort with gods being involved with mortals for a variety of reasons, although most of those don't apply to Thor. He's not a 'love them and have his wife find out and turn them into a cow' sort of god.
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What's a kaiju movie? Never mind, doesn't matter. If something else would fight the World Serpent for him, then so be it. Thor taps his glass against Prometheus' in a mock toast to that idea, though he nearly misses. Might be more the alcohol than the depth perception this time, but he doesn't seem to mind either way.
"Oh, yes. Clever, passionate, brave... very human." His voice wobbles a little as he realizes he doesn't even know if Jane is alive right now. Fifty-fifty chance either way. There's a part of him that really, really does not want to know. It's none of his business anymore anyway, right? She's moved on, and he's supposed to have done the same. Thor clears his throat, and runs his free hand through his hair, or at least he tries before the tangles stop him and he's no longer coordinated enough to sort it out. "It was kind of a... long-distance thing, for a while. Her work kept her busy, and so did mine. Didn't work out. We broke up a while ago."
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The mock toast amuses him, although if he knew that all of his pop culture references are going over his friend's head, he would elaborate. He misses enough of them as it is, and he's lived among them for most of his life. There's just so much. It's impossible to keep up with human creativity.
"She sounds like someone worth knowing," he says warmly, after another sip of mead. It sounds like her fate is currently uncertain, which has the Titan looking away, trying to hide his own discomfort. That hits a little too close to home for him, not that Thor would know about how long it's been since Prometheus has seen his wife. "That's how it is for me and Hesione. She's an ocean nymph, the sea is her home. We lived together while raising Deucalion, but otherwise she stays in the water and I stay with humans. We meet up every so often. It's why I'm so fond of the beach."
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With as strongly as Thor wishes he could rewind time, nostalgia is a heavy hitter for him these days, and Jane is no exception. He sniffs, but he’s smiling a little. “She is. She hit me with her car the day we met,” he admits, something he can laugh about now, even if it’s brief and quiet. “Gave me clothing and food and a place to stay in my exile, and when the Bifrost was broken, she searched for a way to come to me instead. Few humans ever set foot on Asgard, and she was one of them, though I wish it’d been a social call, you know? But in the end, I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me, and I... our break-up was for the best,” he concludes, and he at least mostly believes it.
When he thinks about children now, he does not see having them with Jane, at least. Though someone dark-haired and strong-willed still lingers in his thoughts, and were he more sober, he might start to wonder if he has a type after all.
His frown returns a little as he listens to Prometheus talk about his wife. “I don’t know if I could... I mean, that sounds kind of lonely.” Maybe a little too blunt of a way to put it, but Thor has never been the wordsmith that his brother was, and he’s a little too drunk to come up with anything better.
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Getting hit by a car isn't much of a meet-cute, but knowing Thor's strength, Prometheus can laugh along with him. Although he's sorry to hear that Thor's relationship with Jane didn't work out, he's not terribly surprised, either. Maybe if the two of them had met in the Nexus. That seems to be the one place where such relationships can flourish. He pats Thor's arm comfortingly -- his flesh and blood one. "Mortals come into our lives in surprising ways. It's good to have memories you can cherish of your time with her."
The Titan's smile turns wry. "It works for us." Although this latest gap between visits is longer than he'd prefer. "Honestly, until I met her, I assumed that I would never be interested in anyone romantically. It's not really my style. Or maybe what happened to my brother scared me away from a traditional marriage. The gods made him a wife as a punishment. An indirect punishment, but..." He trails off and sighs. "Never mind, don't let me yuck your yum, Thor. If you want a wife who is with you always, you should have that."
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The possibility of spending his entire life as a bachelor has honestly never occurred to Thor as a real option. There are certain expectations on a prince of Asgard, particularly the crown prince, and now that he’s king that hasn’t changed a bit. But even that aside, he does want that sort of domesticity, someone to spend the rest of his life with. To make a home. Not... not this, what he has now.
He frowns a little at the turn of phrase, mouthing ‘yuck my yum?’ in befuddlement before just shaking his head. “I do. Or... I did. I don’t know anymore.” He rubs his hands across his face, feeling more tired all of a sudden. “My father wanted me to marry Sif,” he admits, and though he’d brushed it off at the time, assuming it was little more than incentive to stop pursuing Jane... he’s had a good long while to think things over, particularly after running into Sif in the Nexus. Bereft of her memories, yet looking at him as if he was the sun itself, and him wondering when in the Nine that happened. Wondering if maybe he should’ve been looking closer all along.
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Such as using 'yuck my yum', which Prometheus only picked up recently, but enjoys using, as he does many colloquialisms. He catches that look of confusion on Thor's face, and laughs, waving his hand. "Sorry. It means I shouldn't put down something that you like just because it's not for me. It's a human phrase. They always come up with such amusing ways of saying things."
Then he settles down again and listens, but only until Thor mentions Sif. "Oh!" He sits up suddenly. "Oh, I met her! Oh, Thor. She's something else. Ready to help everyone, even without her memories... did she ever get her memories back? Do you know? I haven't seen her since."
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Prometheus' enthusiasm about Thor's childhood friend is in stark contrast to the way Thor's chest feels twisted up into a tight knot, though greatly muffled by the alcohol. "I dunno. Haven't seen her since th' funeral. I don't know if she..." If she is - was - the Sif from this universe. If she vanished into dust. If he'll ever see her again.
He's probably overthinking it. That's all he seems to be able to do these days. He takes another long, deep drink, trying to chase those thoughts away and lose them in the fog. "I should go find her," he decides abruptly, though he can't quite seem to stand up to do it. "At least tell her... what happened to Heimdall."
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The Titan's enthusiasm eases considerably. He hopes for Thor's sake that she did survive. He's already lost too much. "I'll look for her," he offers. "And bring her here, if I do. She might be in the Nexus, or back in her universe, if it's different from yours."
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It's a relatively small thing that Prometheus is offering, but it means a great deal to Thor. He's lost so many, so much, that even the smallest things are worth clinging to with everything he has. "Thank you. I... I miss her." By the Nine, he is tired of crying all the time, but he can't help it. He smiles anyway, trying to think of better days, happier times. "We've known each other since we were children, you know. Asgardian women aren't s'posed to be warriors but she did it anyway. Have I told you about that?" If nothing else, spending the rest of his friend's visit drunkenly rambling on about his childhood friends sounds a much more pleasant way to pass the time than crying into his beer until he falls asleep.
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Tony Stark would probably still give him a hard time, though. You can't please everyone!
The Titan wordlessly pats Thor's arm again. Not such a small thing, he'll do his best to find out her whereabouts. "No, I don't think we've talked about Sif. I've read about her, of course, but the myths are not the same as reality. They really don't let Asgardian women become warriors? What about the Valkyries?" There's also Thor's creepy sister, but he's not about to bring her up again.
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"Women were supposed to learn magic and homemaking; Sif thought it was bullshit, so she pushed to train just like all the boys. Had to fight hard to get anyone to take her seriously." It seems hard to talk about her at first, a reminder of more innocent times he can never return to, but the longer he speaks the easier it gets. The words meander from him, his tongue loosened by the drink, as he recounts fond childhood memories of getting into trouble with Sif at his side, tales of adventure with Thor and Sif and the Warriors Three, young and brash and unstoppable.
It was happier times, and for the moment at least, Thor can dwell in them as if they'd never left. Maybe tonight, when he sleeps, he'll have good dreams again, a reprieve from those that haunt him.