Thor was perturbed. He wasn't quite irked yet, but definitely perturbed. He hadn't intended on starting his day with a crying woman on his doorstep. That generally didn't bode well for how the rest of the day was going to go. Fortunately, Thor was an early riser, so the rest of his family had been spared the upsetting sight of a woman who was capable of going into a berserker rage so undone that she was crying.

Obviously he'd hugged her and told her he would fix it. ( What else could he do? )

Sif set the brass plate down with a sigh. Someday, she'd own a decent mirror, but for now it had to do. The reflection was a bit distorted, so she had to hope she looked as good as she thought. It was important.

( Thor was coming to call. )

Ninkasi didn't sit still well. Her homeland was wonderful and she adored it, but she needed more than that. She also loved Kemet -she had friends there that were as dear as family that she had known since what felt like the dawn of time. Greece was also nice... Rome had its own appeal, but those were mostly the same sorts of people -and they were the same gods, with just a slightly different spin on things. Still... she had been itching for something new...

The Northern lands had been a pleasant surprise for her. Sure, the language had a bit of a challenge at first and a little rough to wrap her tongue around, but the people were a fun lot. There were no bizarre rules about women having to stay in the house and only the house. No forced domestication or criminalization of women who didn't want to succumb to such things. In fact, Ninkasi was finding a number of free-thinking women who joked and pressed right along with the men. It was rather refreshing.

( Also, they loved their drink. )

Thor was wide awake. He'd been awake since it had been dark out, waiting for it to be light enough to get up and do something. Yet, despite the first grey light of morning coming through the window, there he laid, in his bed, staring at the ceiling. Which was far less interesting than it could have been. Maybe he should put some carvings up there. Maybe he should make some carvings up there. ( Maybe he should get up before he got some stupid idea like knocking down a wall. )

Thor loved feasts. Everybody got together, ate, drank, laughed, told stories and sometimes fought. It was the best of all worlds all in one room, and Thor couldn't imagine how anybody could have a bad time at a feast. Well, most of the time. There was one person he was pretty sure was having a bad time tonight. But really, ( it was for his own good. )

Thor was nearly bubbling over with energy. He paced around the large expanse of his hall, from room to room, irritating anybody he encountered with his exuberance. When that was not enough to keep him from feeling like everything inside his body was vibrating, Thor ventured outside and continued his bouncing walk, trying to expend some of the built up tension in his body. Every few minutes, he’d look at the eastern horizon, and then he’d curse. Because the sun was taking forever to rise this morning. And he’d been up far before dawn because he just couldn’t sleep.

(  There was an adventure to be had! )

Thor was not pleased. And when Thor was not pleased, everybody knew about it. Thunder rolled, lighting crackled, furniture was smashed, crockery was smash, and there was a lot of yelling involved. When Thor was upset, it was a rather loud affair.

( But how could he not be upset? )

Now what was she forgetting? Something either terribly important or entirely inconsequential that if she didn’t remember right then, she was only going to find out when she needed it. ( Such was the way of packing an overnight bag. )

Northern Γαλλία, situated at the foot of the range of mountains topped with snowy peaks, was a market where every language and dialect of Western Europa was overheard. Raeti and Lepontii goat herders that lived up on those peaks came down with meat and milk to sell, while the Celts brewed their peculiar mead to sell while zealously guarding how it was made. The Greek merchants who traveled so far in the name of commercialism came bearing iron, bronze and pottery, accompanied by the peculiar breed of entrepreneurs from far off lands such as Egypt and Persia, even Carthage, who saw opportunity in the wake of where the Greeks settled. It was a tricky thing to do business so far north, as Gauls did not have coinage to trade with, putting them at a severe disadvantage with the rest. ( It was a delicate process to arrange fair bargains when one was a goddess new to those parts. )

Jobs always came with pros and cons. On the positive side, Melinoe got to have all the ‘children’ that she wanted, traveled, met some absurdly fascinating people that probably would have never given her the time of day otherwise and the work was easy. Babysitting was what it was when one boiled it down. ( Grab a few shades, pop out into the world, let them visit a few relatives, maybe take them to places they had always wanted to see when they were alive but never had a chance to. )

It had been two weeks since Thor had discovered that his wife had been having an affair with one of his best friends. He hadn't asked for details, or the length of time it had been taking place. Simply because he couldn't bear to know specifics right then; but he had demanded to know if it was in fact, truth. (  His actions afterwards were a blur. )

It was here. At the edge of the water his mother had jumped from his arms and onto his father's boat.. into the fire. Into the fire and died there. Sobbing for Baldr. He had watched all of it. Watched his mother burn away, watched the ship cross the water in flames. He had stood there, held back by his family. All of them had wept. He had wept. His eyes were already wet now. Staring into the water. Could he have done something differently? Could he have stopped all of it from happening? The questions wouldn't answer themselves, and no one else could answer them for him.

Forseti had spent so much time with his other family members lately he almost felt like he was going to be sick from seeing tears in their eyes. From seeing the sadness that would not leave them, and the anger behind that. He wasn't sure he even felt angry anymore. He had felt angry, and betrayed. But the more he heard about it the more he wished he'd seen his uncle and spoke to him first. No one could give him an answer he wanted. That he needed. Who was to blame for this grave injustice?

( Maybe if he had an answer he'd be able to rest. )

OOC: The quest to get Thor's hammer back from the giant Thrym. So it's a long, long, long time ago. When they were still friends.

“Thor, quit playing with your boobs.” Loki whispered from under his womanly dress and veil.

This was never going to work.

First of all, there was absolutely nothing feminine about Thor. He looked nothing like Freyja, no matter how you dressed him up. No matter that they veiled him so that his masculine face wasn't giving it all away. No matter that he had Freyja's necklace -that stupid thing had cause Loki enough headache in its time. No, Thrym was not going to buy any of this. Loki didn't buy it. Didn't matter that he was smarter than your average jotun, no, this plan was failed from the start and Loki had to go along so that Thor could get his stinking hammer back.

( It was ridiculous. )

Ninkasi might have had to lighten her skin a few shades and take the name Nina, but it was completely worth it. This little tavern she'd found was a gem and she didn't want to leave it for any place in the world. It was full of jovial people and good good brew. It was a different recipe and technique than she was used to, but it was so very good. She wished she could congratulate them whole-heartedly, but the small town was full of a superstitious lot, so she refrained. Instead, she learned the language. ( She even sang their songs. )

Every so often, Thor felt the urge to wander. A trait he shared, though perhaps in a smaller amount; with Odin. It wasn't terribly often that it happened, as he mostly chose to stay close to home. But when it did, he usually found himself traveling throughout Midgard. He didn't have much of a preference beyond the overall climate - cold. Snowy, rainy; it didn't matter. ( If you could see your breath in front of you, that was about right. )