InsaneJournal

Who: Thor, Peggy Carter
What: Noise Complaints
Where: The Enclave, Fourth Unit
When: Backdated, 5/16ish
Warning: None yet, ongoing.

Thor's first few days in Cardiff had been a whirlwind to say the least. Throughout all of the new locations and faces he was being acquainted and reacquainted with, recurring statements were fed back to the Asgardian, complimenting how well he was "taking all of this." And though the Thunderer was already equipped for interdimensional travel, having undergone several instances of displacement throughout his near two thousand years. it couldn't be overlooked that appearing unaffected was a go-to coping mechanism for the former prince. Chalk it up to centuries spent as a conquering hero. Odinson, the protector of the Nine Realms. Not one reared to show weakness, instead perfectly masculine and impenetrable. If the current predicament was affecting Thor, he wouldn't be likely to show it. Though his skin was literally thicker than most, the modus operandi of smiling in the face of one's problems could prove toxic if those problems were allowed to remain unprocessed. Thus, after what felt like back-to-back social engagement with friends, new and old, Thor would finally retreat home to his prepared accommodations at the Enclave.

Not that there was much comfort to be had there. Perhaps a moment or two, staring out from the balcony. But even as he took in the view, thoughts continued to race. He thought about Torunn. He often wondered where the path might have led, had Thor ended up with Sif. But having a child and leaving that child on Midgard was far from where he envisioned that path going. He did his best to remind himself that it was him. It was Thor in another world. In another set of circumstances. But from what he knew of variants, they seemed to share core similarities. And it was that knowledge that kept Thor from shaking a feeling of responsibility for the girl. At the same time, if she was truly Thorsdottir, she probably carried the same sense of pride that would snap at the thought of being someone else's burden. How could he be there for her in a way that was genuine. How could he continue to be there for her in those times she might want nothing to do with him. It was a situation riddled with complexities. The sort of thing that would've been easier to think about, if he could get it off his damned mind.

Thor's pacing spanned the length of the apartment, vibrations reverberating through the floorboard and walls with each step, with Thor slightly oblivious to how heavy those steps were. Soon enough, however, those steps would come to a halt as Thor stopped dead center in the living room. He took a moment to admire the furnishings. Surely some enchantment was the cause, but the room had already been decorated to his liking. Various pieces of Nordic accoutrement hung from the walls, including a curious looking, circular canvased instrument. A shamanic drum, complete with a wooden mallet. Thor would step over to the wall where it hung, plucking it from the space, taking the drum into one hand, mallet in the other. There was a precise, resounding bang of the drum to kick things off. But as time passed, banging ensued. There was certainly a sense of therapeutic release that came from making the noise, and so he would continue. He would try to be mindful of his volume at the start.. but naturally would find himself carried away by the rhythm. Soon enough, he was back on his feet, adding quite a bit of stomping to the routine. Perhaps eventually leading to a chant. Things quickly would become quite raucous. It was quite the sight. Good thing there was no one to see it, as of now.