Thor Odinson (son_of_odin) wrote in newalliance, @ 2012-06-01 03:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | agent coulson, captain america, thor |
Within His Grasp
Who: Thor, Captain America and Agent Coulson
NPCs: SHIELD Agents and Scientists
Where: The SHIELD Facility, 7 miles Outside Gotham City
When: Friday, June 1, 2012. Night.
What: Thor comes seeking his hammer, and meets very Worthy resistance.
Rating: PG-13 For Some Most Excellent Violence
It had come to this. Thor’s time and energies had been devoted to reuniting with his hammer, and overhearing that a Midgardian organization had found a mysterious object and built a fortress around it... well, that was more than enough to go on. He felt it nearby, though it did not call to him, and he could not summon it. Thor was filled with confusion, and doubted his role here... his father’s plans and terms of punishment were unknown to him. But Odin All-Father had always been a fair and righteous man, one whose wisdom - Thor had learned at some great cost - far surpassed his own.
He’d waited for the weather to aid him in this quest, and shortly after stepping off the bus, felt the drops begin to fall. It was the closest to home he’d felt since his banishment. He stood there, still, looking at the facility from afar. All that was behind him was an open-roofed hut for selling seasonal fruits, closed. He stood close to it, so as not to draw attention to himself.
The thunder rolled. Lightning played off the sky in the distance. Dark clouds swept over, covering all shadows upon the ground and the nearby fortress in unifying darkness. Thor would fall upon their ramparts as he always did, moving in with the storm.
As two of the Midgardians rounded the corner on their patrol, he dashed across the rain, his feet barely touching the ground for more than an instant as he built up speed. The storm approached, seconds away from another thunderclap. It struck as he leapt and grabbed the makeshift fence, fingers gripping the patterned wire, the sound of metal lost in the rumble of the storm.
Thor grinned. He had not lost his warrior’s timing during his trek across the realm known as the States. Pulling himself up, he carefully avoided the barbs that circled the top, spun with a wildcat’s grace and strength, and dropped to the ground in a roll. The stone ground was wet and hard, but soft compared to the mountains of Svartalfheim.
Swiftly, he moved to the nearest guard and placed him in a neck hold that had him dreaming of Vanaheim or Hel, whichever he might be predisposed to. He looked at the door. On its side was a device he recognized as a lock of sorts. He searched the fallen warrior, snapped off a plastic card, and held it to the device. The light switched from red to green, and Thor stepped through the threshold as it opened. He knew these mortals had eyes everywhere; only speed would be his ally now.
Two minutes and four more fallen opponents later, he stood at an impasse, a door which did not respond to the piece of plastic. He could see the edge of Mjolnir’s handle before him, not fifty paces ahead. Thor tossed the useless card to the ground, put his hand to the glass of the door, and smiled. This place was built quickly... this glass was no different than that of the doors of the shelter he’d made a home of in recent days. He took a few steps back, then dashed forward, arms up as he crashed through. The glass shattered, the sound of its component pieces littering the ground in crystal song.
The people in this room did not look like warriors. They backed away from him as the thunder outside announced his presence... and his destiny. The Son of Odin nodded toward them and offered a courageous smile. “Have no fear, mortals. I am only here for what is mine. Step aside, and you will come to no harm.”