Thor Odinson (sendaraven) wrote in themandalay, @ 2017-04-20 03:20:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | thor |
Who: Thor Odinson
When: Late night 4/19 / morning 4/20
Where: Thor's Hotel Room
What: It's considered rude to not drink gift alcohol.
Warnings: bad tv
Thor lay down on the bed which claimed to be King sized and was far more reminiscent of what he might bring on a moderate sized hunting trip and picked up the remote. He flipped through the channels of the television settling on a television show he recognized from his last visit to Midgard. He didn't quite understand the Kardashians, or why it was so crucial that he keep up with them, but they provided a vacant sort of background noise as he thought which Jane's favored documentaries fought to interrupt.
He had been seeking his brother for some time, the younger prince taking the initiative to leave upon his return to Asgard leaving the hallowed halls missing a king, a pretender, and an expected amount of Order as the Infinity stones, thought more prophecy than Ragnarok itself fell into play. This note clearly meant that Loki finally wished to be found. Perhaps he was trapped in this Meadow as well. It did not matter where he was, Thor could capture him here as readily as any other of the Nine Realms. And together they would find the All-Father and save the realms as they had always been intended to.
Most would--and had--called him a fool who still believed in Loki after so many betrayals, but any man was a fool for family. Thor picked up the bottle of clearly labelled "Poison" and uncorked it. It didn't smell like poison and his wayward brother was certainly smart enough to actually label any poisoned drink. He took a swig, letting it sit in his mouth. It was stronger than Midgardian fare. He appreciated that. And it didn't taste like poison. On subsequent mouthfuls either.
He wondered when Kanye would come back on.
As he watched, Thor continued to drink, it made the show more tolerable, but he did start to feel a frog at the back of his throat. At the end of the episode, he turned off the television and got out of bed to strip for the night. Catching his reflection, he wondered if perhaps he looked as slightly green as he felt. Perhaps it was an artifact of eating the city's supply of lobster. He moved Mjolnir from the bed to the dresser which shifted under its incalculable moral weight.