Post by Deleted on Jun 27, 2012 0:22:12 GMT
t h o r . o d i n s o n
The moon was high overhead, shining bright and silver above the city. Wispy clouds occasionally floated past, causing the light to dim, but never entirely. The streets were surprisingly silent - few were wandering about the city this late at night, particularly in this section of it. There was no sign of life behind the surrounding buildings' windows - only pitch black shadows. The only thing that lit up the place, aside from the moon, was but a single functioning streetlamp. Sickly yellow light bathed the sidewalk in a wide ring, then faded back into shadow.
It was in this ring of light that a burly and heavily armored figure stood, leaning against the lamppost. He had to be careful not to put his full weight against it - he could already feel it shifting at an odd angle, and the light occasionally flickered.
Long blonde hair covered his face in a messy sheet, shielding it from view. Muscular, plated arms were crossed before his chest, and he appeared to be deep in thought. Which, as a matter of fact, he was.
He didn't look troubled. Only thoughtful. Unnaturally bright blue eyes remained fixed to the ground, distant and staring at nothing in particular. They would absently drift toward the object directly next to his boot every so often, then drift back to the sidewalk. The object - Mjölnir, his trusty warhammer - wasn't going anywhere. Not unless he wanted it to. Which, for now, he did not.
Time passes. A chilled breeze flows down the roadway, causing the scarlet cape at his back to flutter ever so slightly. Then all is still again, and Thor continues to think.
He isn't one for thinking for such long periods of time. Though, to be truthful, he's being more nostalgic than anything else by this point. Revisiting memories of days long gone - days he wished he could have back, but never could. He had so much time on his hands since he arrived back in Midgard... he didn't like it. Everything felt so mundane. He longed for adventures, battles. His friends joining him in his endeavors, being hailed as warriors and heroes as they returned home.
But there was one thought that continued to taint the rest. What Thor found himself growing increasingly troubled by was the thought of his brother.
After all that had happened, Loki's fate was unknown to him. He'd been set to face trial for his crimes, in Asgard. But he was getting the distinct feeling that maybe... just maybe... whatever had brought him back to Midgard had also brought his brother.
If this were true... then he would have to do everything in his ability to prevent a second catastrophe from occurring. He couldn't allow Loki to once again attempt to destroy this place, and become the humans' so-called' king'. Mischief was one thing; war was another entirely.
The only problem was that... he wasn't sure if he could fight all-out against his brother again. The last time hadn't been easy for him. A next would likely be worse. Nobody seemed to realize it, but Thor desperately wanted his brother to stop the madness... return to who he once was, despite the odds against such a thing happening at this point...
A low growl wells up from Thor's throat as he shakes his head, clearing it. He finally shifts his weight off the lamppost, and leans down to grasp at Mjölnir's handle. As soon as he rights himself again, he just stands there, eyes once again alert and attentive to everything around him.
Good thing, too. For out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of something. Not a shadow. It was far too solid... There! There's one last glimpse of it farther off before it disappears again. Whatever it was, it hadn't made a single sound.
Thor's brows instantly furrow in suspicion at what - or, more like who - he'd just seen. There was no mistaking that flash of green fabric.
No...
Yet another low growl can be heard, this time a tad more malicious. Thor's stance shifts as his grip around Mjölnir tightens, and his eyes scour the shadows for another glimpse of who he'd just seen. He doesn't want to believe it, doesn't want to say anything, but he finds himself speaking nonetheless. His tone is laced with a threat.
"Loki... you had better hope it was not you who I have just seen..."
{ wuh-oh, angrythurr is approaching... D'8 }
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