That Kind of Night {Copenhagen, Denmark}

[Ryker Thorsen]

     Out of all the people working at Jolene that night, Ryker Thorsen looked a little out of place. He wasn’t the youngest of the employees, but he definitely looked it, and standing behind the bar pouring drinks seemed like a strange thing for him to do. But he did it well, his actions both smooth and efficient. His smile never left his face, even when patrons complained or returned drinks – which, to be honest, rarely happened. He only worked here once a week but he was behind the counter enough to know what he was doing and how to do it right.

     He looked as happy as any other person in the bar but underneath his grin and brightly coloured rainbow contacts, he was frustrated. He was supposed to be off tonight, studying for a test he had in a week. To be fair, he knew everything he needed to, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to spend his night immersed in his readings. Besides, he had managed to convince his grandfather to sit down with him and explain the ways he had worshipped the gods. The ways he still did. Ryker was hardly one to worship but he couldn’t say he didn’t believe.

     And even if he tried to he couldn’t hide his passion for the subject. However, he was working and he needed to pay attention. The next few minutes of pouring drinks and small talk passed by in a blur, no encounter any different than the one before it or the one after. That is, until a man approached the bar who was unlike the rest of those gathered around. He looked around his age: somewhere from mid-twenties on. Ryker grinned his standard greeting and tipped an empty glass in the man’s direction. “What’ll you have?”


Words: [300]
Tag: Thor
Mood: [Impatient, a little intrigued]
Outfit: [Dark jeans, black v-neck tee, red Converse]
Notes: [I'll make it pretty later. Done]

[Thor]

"Take the strongest thing you have," the man started, his voice booming even at what appeared to be a normal volume for him, "and just dump it in that glass and hand it to me."

It had been a particularly bad day for Thor. Between dodging Odin's attempts to talk to him about his leave of absence from Asgard and the straps on his backpack breaking (he had to get those fixed, he thought to himself, maybe something dwarven-made would be able to support the near-constant weight of Mjolnir) he was fed up. Going out and hitting something would probably result in property damage, and assault was illegal just about everywhere on Midgard. Not to mention his usual anger management technique of beating the tar out of some poor sap on Jotunheim was right out--he was actively trying not to make enemies of the giants lately. As such, Thor had decided to do what many people on Midgard did when they were down: drink, and drink a lot.

Of course, Midgard's alcohol was made for those who lived there, so what would give a human or similar variant alcohol poisoning would probably just give him a bit of a buzz, but all he wanted was to take the edge off. If it could even get him a little less grumpy, that'd be ideal. Thor sat down at the end of the bar so as not to invade anyone's space with his terribly broad shoulders, and added, quieter this time (though it still sounded a little too much like the rumble of a storm in the distance), "Before you go asking, I haven't had a great day, and I'd rather not talk about it."

He wasn't usually one for talking much at all, but he did like listening, and maybe it'd get his mind off of current events. "Anything else, though, I'm up for. Literally anything else. Ramble on about anything you want--I'll sit back and listen and give a little input here and there."

-----

words {{ 334 }}
notes {{ none }}
tagged {{ Ryker Thorsen }}
outfit {{ leather jacket, grey plaid button-up, dark blue jeans, black boots }}
mood {{ grumpy }}

[Ryker Thorsen]

     “Got it,” he replied, not appearing fazed by the man’s volume, his smile widening. He could pour the man a glass of vodka but he didn’t seem the vodka type, so Ryker ducked down and pulled out the bottle of scotch under the counter, setting the glass down and quickly uncapping the bottle. As he filled the cup his gaze wandered to the man again, noting his mood and – he was just about to ask him about it when the guy spoke up and basically told him not to.

     All right. He could take a hint. Sliding the glass to him, he leaned against the counter, taking the moment to relax. The bar seemed less busy than just a few minutes before, but he wasn’t going to complain about the brief lull. Mindless chatter took a lot out of him on nights like these. Thank goodness it was only a Tuesday rather than a Friday or Saturday night. He did his best not to work those shifts.

     As it was, he was either going to have to convince someone to have a good fight with him or he would have to go for a run. He was bored, for one, and on the edge of getting obnoxious just to amuse himself. Considering how well that never went, he really only had two options besides drinking, and that wasn’t an option at all. Not here, at least. He had to be professional.

     However, at the invitation to talk about any other subject, he simply couldn’t refuse. Sure, mythology was about as far from bar conversation as you could get, with the exception of politics and contemporary religion, but it was a hell of a lot more interesting. The guy didn’t have to know that the bartender was using him to study for a test. The conversation didn’t need to stick to the topic for the entire time. With that decided, Ryker smiled again. “So then, what do you know about Norse Mythology?”


Words: [328]
Tag: Thor
Mood: [less bored – still curious]
Outfit: [Dark jeans, black v-neck tee, red Converse]
Notes: [none]

[Thor]

Thor was in the middle of taking a long swig of the scotch in front of him when he nearly did a spit-take. "What do I know about Norse mythology?" he asked, maybe a second after he'd swallowed. Then he laughed, as though it were a joke.

He debated telling the kid at the bar who he was. It wasn't so uncommon for gods to walk the earth nowadays, and they were being recognized as such. Still, he didn't really want to draw unnecessary attention to himself from the media, especially considering he was trying to go incognito, and it would be hard for him to prove that he wasn't just a Plus with super-strength and/or weather control without Mjolnir. (Which was, conveniently, sitting at home in his backpack. He knew he'd been forgetting something.) Or at least it'd be hard to prove it without a gigantic stunt which would land him on every front page and news broadcast for the next three weeks.

Thor was also pretty sure he couldn't pass off as the scholarly type, but this was one area of study in which he had lived every story that had been written down, and many more that hadn't been. "It's funny you should ask, actually." His voice got low as he continued while he leaned forward, though the next word he spoke rumbled like thunder anyway. "Everything."

He took a moment to pause to lower the intimidation factor. "I know everything there is to know short of the wisdom Odin traded his eye for, and the knowledge for which he hung himself upon Yggdrasil, and other personal things like that where somebody made a sacrifice to gain knowledge. You could say I'm sort of an expert, so if you've got questions, I'd be one to ask." He grinned, and took another drink from the scotch--emptying the glass. There was a smile in his eyes that his mouth didn't display when he said, "Another."

-----

words {{ 403 }}
notes {{ thor is laughing so hard internally right now }}
tagged {{ Ryker Thorsen }}
outfit {{ leather jacket, grey plaid button-up, dark blue jeans, black boots }}
mood {{ jovial as hell, cheering up immediately }}

[Ryker Thorsen]

     Ryker tensed slightly at the laughter, not expecting it and, at first, not sure what to think of it. Then, he did like to make people laugh. It just normally happened more often when he meant it to rather than not. All the same, he could handle it.

     When he was already moody it didn’t take much to get him on the defensive: he just rarely showed it, especially at work, which was where it happened most. Considering his provocative nature, his actual physical need for what others saw as violence (and he, conveniently, saw as exercise), it was a little strange that he let himself get offended over such tiny things. He saw that flaw and it annoyed him immensely, so he tried to keep it under control at all times. No one needed an angry version of him: he was bad enough as it was. Though that wasn’t to say he was a horrible person. He was quite a sweetheart – a real people person. He just happened to have an interesting take on how to amuse himself and others. It wasn’t always appreciated.

     Thankfully when the bigger man spoke again, he wasn’t teasing. Instead he was more serious than Ryker expected. Much more serious. The kind of serious he would expect from his grandfather, not a man across the bar. The tone of his voice was borderline fearsome and Ryker’s currently-rainbow eyes widened briefly. When he went on to describe himself as an expert, he relaxed again, taking the man’s glass when he requested another fill, watching him with all the curiosity of a cat – minus the claws.

     “You studied it then?” He shrugged, as though it didn’t matter, though his expression said otherwise. “That’s what I’m doing. Studying it. Can’t say I know everything, nah. Not even close. Sure you want me pestering you with questions?” Ryker laughed, returning the now full cup. “Kidding. It’s too late to take back the offer. So. If you could meet one of the gods, who would you choose?”



Words: [338]
Tag: Thor
Mood: [curious as heck, amused, and a bit intimidated]
Outfit: [Dark jeans, black v-neck tee, red Converse]
Notes: [Ryker, you're an idiot]

[Thor]

Thor's laugh was loud enough that it almost echoed in the bar. "I lived it," he said, grinning. "I'm still living it." That could be taken a few different ways, he guessed, and he was going to be as amusingly up-front about his life as possible to see how long it took the boy to put it together.

"If I could meet one..." He laughed again, shaking his head. "Good question. Loki, hands down. He's a funny guy, and I like that. He's the kind of guy I like to hang out with." Okay, so he didn't have to mention that Loki was the guy he'd been hanging out with lately. That would make all of this less... entertaining.

Mortals, Thor thought. Always clinging to their idea that things had to make sense, or were a direct progression from point A to point B, and that gods weren't real and weren't on Midgard drinking scotch in bars in Denmark. He took a drink from the new glass of alcohol, setting it down and looking Ryker dead in the eyes. "I've got a quick question for you, and then you can resume questioning me. I'll answer whatever." He grinned, then asked, "Based on my first impression, if I had to be a Norse god, which one do you think I'd be?"

He almost hoped that Ryker would figure it out soon. He was starting to feel a little bad for not stating who he was outright. But that could wait a little bit. Didn't need the bartender freaking out while he was trying to relax a little bit. So, rather than giving another indication of who he was, he drank his scotch and fought back a smile. "And what other questions might you have for me? I'm curious to see what you've got on your mind as far as the subject goes."

-----

words {{ 311 }}
notes {{ internal laughing becomes cackling }}
tagged {{ Ryker Thorsen }}
outfit {{ leather jacket, grey plaid button-up, dark blue jeans, black boots }}
mood {{ cheery, affable, a little rambunctious }}

[Ryker Thorsen]

     Ryker was honestly surprised when the man’s booming laugh didn’t catch the attention of every single patron in the bar. He did note (with no small amount of amusement) that one of the men sitting at the end of the bar jumped as if startled, nearly spilling the cheap beer he purchased. Good. He was a rude customer anyway. Ryker put minimum effort towards people like him.

     At the man’s continued laughter, Ryker started to second guess himself. Was he missing something? It sure seemed like he was. The other guy was acting as though this whole conversation was some elaborate joke. Not that he would mind: he loved jokes. He just hoped that if it turned out to be one, it was a good one. “Loki,” he repeated with a nod, glancing around the room again, scanning to see if he was missing a new guest. Satisfied that he wasn’t being unnecessarily rude, he turned his attention back to the big man. “I’m fond of him myself. I like a good prank.”

     Of course, that was hardly the only reason but it was the easiest to bring up in conversation and the only one he felt comfortable revealing to a stranger.
When said stranger made eye contact, and so intensely, Ryker wondered just what he’d seen that made rainbow eyes not seem an oddity at all. Usually he got at least a strange look, if not a comment, but this guy didn’t seem to notice them at all. Rather than being upset by it, however, he felt strangely relieved. Tenseness he hadn’t realised dissipated and his head cocked to the side as he pondered the question asked of him.

     “Thor,” he said after what seemed to be at least a minute but was probably closer to fifteen seconds. “It’s the laugh that did it for me. You’re incredibly loud. Booming. Thunderous. And you chose Loki, for reasons I believe Thor would if I asked the same of him.” Realisation flickered across his features but didn’t have time to settle before he banished it with a shake of his head, brushing off what he figured was just his imagination. You’re not serving a Norse god, Ryker.


Words: [366]
Tag: Thor
Mood: [amused, relieved, unsure]
Outfit: [Dark jeans, black v-neck tee, red Converse]
Notes: [he let himself get excited for a second and then shut himself down]

[Thor]

The thunder god nodded. "I would agree. I am a lot like Thor." Then he laughed again. He felt like he was definitely being rude, but he couldn't stop himself. It was just too... strange, not to have someone recognize him. Or, in this case, to recognize him, and then shake their head like they'd tossed the idea aside as a silly notion.

"You know," Thor said, pushing up one of his sleeves to reveal a wrist cuff on his arm, "sometimes things are exactly what they seem. Humans have a bad habit of forgetting they're not alone in the world, and the gods have been shown to walk among them. Yet still they deny the existence of the things they see." He took the cuff off and put it down on the bar in between them. "Try it on. I think it'll make things pretty obvious and then you can stop guessing about what's going on."

He grinned and made eye contact again, letting the jovial lightning strike in the background. "At least, if you haven't figured it out already. Go ahead. Put it on and try to pick something up." He sipped at his scotch again. It could have been a bad idea to give one of his gauntlets to some kid, sure, but he still had the other and his belt. If he had to get into fisticuffs to get it back, he was confident in his ability to do so--but he didn't think it'd be necessary. At least, the kid didn't make it seem like it would be. He seemed more jovial than aggressive, much like Thor was at the current moment. He didn't think the tone would change, and he honestly hoped that it wouldn't. He was having fun for the first time all day, and he'd hate for a disagreement or fight to screw that up for him.

-----

words {{ 314 }}
notes {{ it enhances strength but you probably knew that }}
tagged {{ Ryker Thorsen }}
outfit {{ leather jacket, grey plaid button-up, dark blue jeans, black boots }}
mood {{ amused and in good spirits }}

[Ryker Thorsen]

     He knew it wasn’t impossible for this man to be Thor, just as he knew it wasn’t impossible that the girl he talked to earlier might be a vampire, a witch, or any other sort of being. But that didn’t make things any easier to wrap his head around, even with this. When he was younger he believed in the gods as much as his grandfather did, spurred on by his stories and always thirsting for more. And while the thirst, the hunger for more knowledge never left, somewhere along the line his beliefs had shifted.

     “More like him than anyone I’ve ever met,” he admitted, trailing off when the man he’d already taken to mentally calling Thor pushed up his sleeves and began speaking again. Ryker’s disbelieving look melted away and in its place was a smile far more shy than the ones he put on for show. He reached out to trail long fingers over the edge of the cuff, flicking his gaze up to the man – the god? – who put it there. His hesitation was momentary: it didn’t take him long to slip the cuff onto his wrist (though he did pause to look at it again before doing anything else).

     The shy smile widened into a grin filled with something akin to childlike glee, though he didn’t make a move to pick anything up, instead setting his elbow down on the table with his hand curled into a fist. “How about an arm wrestle instead?” He asked, knowing that even with the cuff, if the man was truly Thor, Ryker was bound to lose. He didn’t mind that. Losing wasn’t so much of a big deal. But how many people could say they’d arm wrestled with Thor? “I think it was always obvious,” he added thoughtfully. “I was too busy trying not to notice.”


Words: [308]
Tag: Thor
Mood: [gleeful, a little shy – not putting on any masks]
Outfit: [Dark jeans, black v-neck tee, red Converse]
Notes: [he is a child]

[Thor]

Thor laughed quietly, nodding as he put his own elbow up on the table. "I think this may be a more fair battle than many I've participated in." He paused a moment, then slipped off his belt for the moment. "There. Your strength doubled against my strength unchanged from what it would be normally. This may even be difficult for me." He was fairly certain he was going to win--he was of the Aesir, after all, and even at his most basic he was still probably about twice as strong as Loki, and maybe half again as much as Tyr--but with the boy's strength doubled, it might be... at least a little bit more even. It'd be more even if it were Loki wearing the cuff.

Thor made a mental note to arm wrestle Loki in the future. That could be interesting, especially if his natural strength really was Loki's doubled as he suspected it might be. Maybe it'd even be a fair fight. He'd always sort of wanted to encounter Loki on fair grounds. Maybe something would make Thor twice as intelligent and they could also have a battle of wits and speed of tongue. Then again, Thor considered, he wasn't even half as smart or clever as Loki. So that probably wouldn't work out too well.

This was what was happening now anyway, so he focused back on Ryker and his rainbow eyes with a grin. "At least you had the sense to know in the first place," he responded. "Most wouldn't have even made the connection. Most haven't." He'd been going around on Midgard for quite some time now, unnoticed and unbothered. Nobody expected him to be the Thunderer, so to them, he wasn't. It was that simple, and that awkward. "I'm glad you did. Eventually. Now, let's get on with this, shall we?"

-----

words {{ 307 }}
notes {{ these guys are both children }}
tagged {{ Ryker Thorsen }}
outfit {{ leather jacket, grey plaid button-up, dark blue jeans, black boots }}
mood {{ upbeat, anticipatory }}

[Ryker Thorsen]

     Ryker snorted a laugh, barely keeping himself from rolling his eyes. Fair, his ass. “I highly doubt it’ll be difficult for you,” he countered, more teasing than upset about it. In fact, he wasn’t upset at all. He all but forgot he was standing behind the bar; he wasn’t standing on the floor of a bar, he was floating somewhere above it, clouds beneath his feet. It was a nice of Thor to say it might be difficult for him, but Ryker wasn’t a complete idiot. He was strong enough to fight other humans, maybe some Pluses as long as they kept things physical, but not a god. Not even a god without special additions. “You’re going to beat me but I’m not giving up now, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He grinned widely. “I’ve got brothers and a healthy sense of competition.”

Maybe not particularly healthy…sometimes it bordered on dangerous and obsessive, but that was against the point.

     The god’s grin made his own even bigger, if that was even possible. This was bound to be more fun than a tussle with a random guy on the street. Sure, a street fight meant adrenaline and (usually) controlled risk, possibly capped off with a good, hard run, but arm wrestling Thor was bound to be exciting in its own way. It already was, and they hadn’t even begun. “I’m fortunate I’ve got the passions I do, then. I, uh, you’ve been the focus of my studies for a bit now.”

     Grabbing Thor’s hand, he nearly laughed, he was so pumped. “You don’t have to ask me twice,” he said, pausing a moment before adding, “Thor.” If Granddad was here right now he’d be beside himself, he thought gleefully. He’ll be jealous I met Thor before he did… Wonder if Thor’d visit Granddad one of these days. That’d make his life.


Words: [310]
Tag: Thor
Mood: [kind of over the moon, to be honest]
Outfit: [Dark jeans, black v-neck tee, red Converse]
Notes: [CHILDREN PLEASE / written with the weirdest playlist I have]

[Thor]

The god laughed again, letting his grin shine through. "I didn't think you'd give up, but don't write yourself off so quickly. And I hope you're satisfied. I don't think I've ever been asked to arm wrestle before, at least not with a human, so consider yourself the first and by default the best."

Upon hearing that Ryker had been studying him, he nodded. "If you want to ask me any questions about my life, hold them until after the match. After that, I'd be happy to tell you everything you need to know. I'm sure that studying a subject is easier when the subject is sitting across the bar from you, and you seem like the kind of person I'd like to help." To be fair, most people seemed like the kind of person Thor liked to help, but Ryker was especially getting on his good side. He liked talking about his life, sure, but he liked it more when he was talking to someone that wasn't there when it happened. The Aesir had heard the same stories over and over again that he'd told in mead halls alongside Loki of their escapades in Utgard and beyond, and Loki had told his own stories of those times, but he'd never told the stories that they'd witnessed themselves. He was excited at the prospect of being able to relate a few different tales this time.

Thor squeezed Ryker's hand lightly when the human brought up his own arm. "If that hurt, then this isn't going to be a good idea," he said with a laugh. "That said, let's get down to business. I've got an unfair advantage, being a deity and all, so I'll let you do the countdown." He smiled. This was a much better continuation to his night than he'd been planning on. "Just watch the drink. Wouldn't want to spill anything." He moved his scotch slightly to the left, so as to clear it from the space where they'd be doing their contest of strength. "Ready whenever you are."

-----

words {{ 342 }}
notes {{ BABIES }}
tagged {{ Ryker Thorsen }}
outfit {{ leather jacket, grey plaid button-up, dark blue jeans, black boots }}
mood {{ so much better than when he walked in, smiley, upbeat }}

[Ryker Thorsen]

 
     He rolled his eyes with lighthearted sarcasm, smirking. “Kind of hard not to when it’s human versus god,” he pointed out, shrugging a shoulder. The young man’s grin grew until he laughed, shaking his head at the god across the counter from him. “Ah, I’m honoured then. I’ll have to do my best to make sure I stay the best.” It took a considerable amount of self-control to keep from adding, I’m always the best.


     “I’m not much for conversation during competition. It gets in the way of my game,” he said jokingly, though he wasn’t joking at all. Competition was a serious thing for Ryker. Growing up with older brothers who excelled in school and physical feats did that to a person. Thankfully he’d been blessed with focus and motivation; those two traits had gotten him in – and out – of a lot of trouble, but had also lead to some great experiences. Not the least of which was the very situation he was in currently. If he hadn’t been paying attention he might’ve never put the pieces together and realised who he was serving.

     You seem like the kind of person I’d like to help. At the god’s comment, Ryker chuckled. “I can’t say I’m not glad to hear that. You’re most likely a better source than my granddad and – if I’m honest – you’d probably be less biased than him as well. He’s a bit of a fan, that one.” So maybe fan wasn’t the right word for it – the man worshipped Thor for goodness’ sake. It was just strange to link his granddad’s chosen god with the man Ryker was about to arm wrestle with.

     Raising an eyebrow with all the sass of a teenage girl, Ryker squeezed the god’s hand right back. “I’ve not got bird bones. Let’s get going before I begin to think you’re not going to go through with it.” Sure, goading a god was most likely a horrible idea but when was the last time Ryker paid attention to whether he was making the right decision?
 
“Bring it on.”



Words: [346]
Tag: Thor
Mood: [confident for some reason or another]
Outfit: [Dark jeans, black v-neck tee, red Converse]
Notes: [these idiots make me happy]

[Thor]

Thor let Ryker do the rest of the talking before the arm wrestling match began, nodding with a smile at hearing about his grandfather being a fan. He squeezed again, a little harder this time, then as soon as the "n" had dropped from the boy's final word, he was out of the gate.

Though he hadn't exactly expected things to be easy, Ryker did put up more of a challenge than Thor had foreseen. He had thought he might take a few seconds, perhaps, but with the mortal's enhanced strength added to the hidden muscle he possessed he'd put up a much more extended battle. Thor found himself struggling to inch Ryker's hand down to the countertop.

He felt like something was about to go wrong, like something dangerous was heading his way, and his focus wavered, allowing Ryker to gain a significant advantage. He continued to wonder what was going on, and just as soon as he had, the back of his hand hit the bar. He nodded at Ryker, muttered "I'll be right back," and sprinted outside as he put his belt back on just in time for a black backpack with broken straps to fly straight into his gut and throw him back enough to hit the building behind him.

Lifting the backpack with his left arm, he pushed the door open again and shook his head as he put his backpack on the seat beside him. "I think it thought I was in danger, what with the contest of strength and you having one of my gauntlets. So it showed up."

He unzipped the bag and put "it" on the counter--shining proud, the warhammer with the miniscule handle rested before Ryker. "I've been meaning to get new straps on the backpack. It's a bit heavy for what their purposes usually are. Anyway. You've won, so now you can tell your friends that you beat Thor at arm wrestling when the odds were tipped to be a little more fair." He grinned, his teeth showing through their frame of beard. "Now, back to the questions? Once I get my gauntlet back, I mean."

-----

words {{ 357 }}
notes {{ it wasn't a unicorn, but... }}
tagged {{ Ryker Thorsen }}
outfit {{ leather jacket, grey plaid button-up, dark blue jeans, black boots }}
mood {{ still on top of the world }}

[Ryker Thorsen]

     The anticipation was killing him and by the time they actually starting he was basically vibrating with excitement. His sassy façade hid his childlike excitement well, but it was definitely there. It hid beneath the surface, waiting to strike like some sort of secret weapon. Maybe that unspent, unneeded energy found its use in this small battle of strength, but he was surprised nonetheless. Ten seconds, he’d thought. Maybe he could last that long. After all, most arm wrestling feats were short-lived anyway – one against a God had to be shorter.

     He was this close to losing when suddenly the tide turned in his favour and he slowly but surely started inching the god’s hand towards the table. It crossed his mind that Thor might be letting him win but that thought was soon banished: Thor didn’t look like he was paying enough attention to their hands to make that sort of decision. In fact, he seemed to be somewhere else entirely. If the god was just another man at the bar Ryker might have been offended by the lack of focus, but as it was he was bent on winning.
 
      How many chances was he going to get?

     Even knowing the god was distracted Ryker found himself startled when – just after having his hand hit the bar – Thor hustled out of the bar with the quick comment of ‘be right back’. He took the moment to revel in his victory, if only for a brief time. Interrupted by a couple girls looking for some sweet drinks, Ryker forgot about the god’s mad dash and mixed up the drinks, allowing his flirty, charming mask to fall back into place. “Ladies,” he said, slowly sliding the drinks towards them, taking their money in return. With a playful wink and a bright smile, of course. That’s how things worked.

     When Thor returned the girls were finding seats and Ryker relaxed, leaning against the counter. About to ask what the ‘it’ was, he was stopped short by something being placed on the bar counter. Something that could only be one thing. Mjolnir. What was left of his flirtatious smile faded away, his eyes narrowing on the hammer, taking in every inch of it that he could see before lifting his gaze to the man’s face. “Sounds like you could use a more heavy duty bag,” he told him conversationally, as if a legendary weapon wasn’t sitting on the bar between them. “Maybe one of those materials they use to make wearable armour. It’s got to be tough.” He shrugged, letting that topic slide and grinning instead when reminded of his win. “Not too many to tell, but granddad will love it,” he said, sliding off the gauntlet in the process. Handing it back, he settled against the counter again.

     “I’ve got one question first, more of a personal interest than part of my school work: just how many stories are we missing in our books?”


Words: [492]
Tag: Thor
Mood: [somewhat relaxed]
Outfit: [Dark jeans, black v-neck tee, red Converse]
Notes: [sorry it took me five hundred years]