Who: Thor (Open to Sif & Kat) When: Backdated 5.24--Start of Plot Where: Their House What: Game On Closed Semi-Narrative, Open to mentioned
The sound. The rumble. The tell-tale pang up the spine that for some could lead to horror. For Thor it lead to a rush and after his tired, bored life upon the island, joy. Excitement for battle. Excitement to do something. The man clamored from his chair in the living area to the back door, throwing it open to look outside. His eyes grew skyward and everything looked dark, dank, and spooky. It looked like something out of a terrifying story that a cruel writer concocted.
It was magnificent.
Turning to go back into the home, the door slammed behind him. Thor raced up the stairs to suit up, dressing in his armor as he shout through the house. He wasn't asking, anymore. He was not being kind. He was being a leader, a commander, a king. "Katherine! Sif!" the blond god bellowed, strapping on his chest piece. Then his cape, because he couldn't go anywhere without it. It flapped and he stomped through the home, practically leaving dents in the floor with his weight of armor and less than gentle action. Mjolnir hung in his hand.
At the bottom of the stairs he put a hand on the doorknob to leave, continuing to shout throughout the home. He knew for Sif it only took that one call to have her leap into her own armor, especially once he had started to do so. For Katherine...he was not so sure. So he looked for her in the fray. There was little time. There was never time for Thor. There was battle first, discuss later.
"Katherine. Go somewhere safe. You cannot stay here and I will not have you fighting. You are not yet ready," Thor told her in firmness. He wouldn't forgive himself if she were hurt under his watch. He then turned and nodded, beckoning for Sif before he exit the building without another word to his niece. He just pray she did as she were told. Staying out of danger was best...but he had a feeling he knew her better than he would have liked and was sure nothing he said, pleading or commanding, would stop her.
~~~
Outside, the wind was wild. It swirled around the god of thunder as he hit the ground. The tarmac cracked under his weight and the power of Mjolnir hitting it as he was thrown away from one of the smaller beasts. His boots skid on the black top before he starts to run forward and back toward the metal monster. He shouts, a battle cry, lightning crackling down from the sky and lighting up the area. Anyone within many a yard would see it filling the sky, causing thunderheads to form and that white-hot pierce to crash toward earth.
He was certainly making his own headway, slowly but surely, even if he were only putting dents in the alien creatures. Thor wouldn't stop until he had won or he could not stand. Thankfully, his Lady was near....Somewhere.