Thor hides behind the sound of thunder. (intonare) wrote in districtmarvel, @ 2016-01-09 04:16:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | steve rogers, thor odinson |
ᴡʜᴏ: Thor Odinson + Steve Rogers
ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: District Eight.
ᴡʜᴇɴ: On a seemingly otherwise normal morning.
ᴡʜᴀᴛ: Showing Panem a "happy" Eight.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: TBA.
sᴛᴀᴛᴜs: Closed, ongoing.
Through the lightly tinted glass the world raced past, nothing more than a colourful blur just out of reach and feeling as unreal as everything else. The rise of the mountains, the fall of the valleys, the green of the trees — they all seemed to mock him as he travelled by them, ridiculing him for his weaknesses. He did not blame them and if he could separate himself from this mess he had become, he would stand by them and drown himself in those very same sentiments. But he could not rend himself in two thus and would never forget the cold eyes and harsh words that continued him on this path. Since the days of his Victory Tour, Thor had seen little of the other Districts, preferring instead the quiet safety of the mines in Two. For almost fourteen years, he had seen little more than the red-grey of the stone that wrapped around him with only occasional glimpses of the outside world and fewer looks, still, of the world outside of his childhood District. That was just as well, as Panem at large held nothing for him. There was no sense of curiosity within him anymore, no aimless longing, no wanderlust. In the years since his time in the Capitol, since his Games, Thor had begun to grow roots and aged slowly under the unforgiving sun, the only thing in this world more ruthless and stubborn than those of the Capitol. As Eight's station rose up around the train, Thor could not recall any memories of it. Unlike his arrival in the Capitol barely weeks ago, the platforms were not lined with the near-frenzied excitement nor with many warm faces. The people here did not have the freedom to flock to trains at their leisure, did not have the time when food cost wage that required real work. This was a district, not the Capitol, and Thor somehow felt more at home here among the people than the painted dolls that idolized him. Those faces that greeted him as he stepped from the train, flanked once again by a stylist and an escort, were tired. Thor could see it in the lines etched around their eyes, the way the corners of their mouths seemed to tip down even while they smiled. To say he knew anything of the hardship in this district would be a lie, and he would laugh to hear anyone think that Stane would have mentioned a word of it to him. Thor might have been the face of whatever it was the President was planning, but like any figurehead, he held no real power, was grossly uninformed. And despite these disadvantages, the shackles on his wrists and the blindfold over his eyes, he continued on because he knew where that power he lacked lay. As soon as he stepped through the gates into the district proper, cameras were once again trained on him and his smile returned, his eyes caught the light of the sun and though he felt as if the light only cast him more in shadow, he projected the character he was here to play. Out of the corners of his eyes, Thor saw the too-familiar white of the Peacekeeper uniforms. The color was harsh amid the muted tones of the district and it was curious. Though he came from the district where these men were trained, he could hardly profess to have ever seen them have such a presence. Thor let the observation slip from his mind, passing it off as over-critical. It was easier to assume misjudgement, a lack of understanding, than to try to comprehend the meaning of their overbearing presence. Having only known one district for his entire life and blessed with the childhood and subsequent life he had, Thor could not understand what life could have been like in the other parts of Panem. It had been a surprise to him when he joined the ranks of the miners to see how they lived and that had been within his own home District. How could he judge the operation of one entirely foreign to him? The welcoming party led Thor and his party to the Justice Building with little hesitation. Thor felt almost rushed through the district, as if he was somehow unwelcome or as if there were things he was not meant to see. Or perhaps, because he was not meant to be seen. As his eyes settled upon the only building that seemed to never change, a strange anticipation knotted in his stomach. He could not describe the feeling in words, could hardly wrap his mind around it, but he did not like the way it warped around inside him. Thor never believed in omens, but if he had, perhaps he would have better understood this feeling. Ignoring instinct, he carried on. Knowing that this was simply for a few photographs, Thor anticipated this excursion to end with little difficulty and he would be able to leave and hopefully that ill feeling would remain here once he departed. Behind a desk, the mayor spoke with him amicably, talked about nothing and avoided any real conversation. Together they sat for the pictures, a combination of posed and "candid," if anything orchestrated under the watchful eye of the President could be considered impromptu or natural. There were others that joined in the photo op, old Victors, officials, a Peacekeeper. All the while, Thor smiled widely, joked with those around him and acted as if he was truly here as nothing more than a glorified tourist. Though he was unaware of the ulterior motives behind his direction to come here, Thor made observations of his own. His blue eyes studied the very carefully selected areas he was walked to, his mind did not miss how directed and scripted this felt. Of course, nothing of his life had not been scripted since he was pulled from that collapsed mine and into the Capitol. His observations were few naught, however. Thor was not eager to get the blood of his loved ones on his hands for disobeying his orders, and would go back to the train and allow himself to drown these memories with all the others he wished to forget. Ignorance was not bliss, but it was enough to keep him going. With the photographer satisfied and the party returned to the Justice Building, Thor took the opportunity to retreat to an empty room to finally let his mask fall. Like always, he was utterly exhausted. |