2012-07-25 Truly, I am Thor

Early morning. Those wee twilight hours just after dawn, when the sky is radiant with pinks and lavendars and oragnes so intense as to be called tangerine. It is in this crystalline and beautiful moment that a sudden dark storm cloud, a crack of thunder, and the poor soul that sought to rattle a young woman books it out of an alley so fast. The girl's rattled too, but when Sir Shakespear-in-the-Park-meets-Fabio bows, takes your hand, and escourts you on his arm to the street and 'safety', you tend not to argue.

It's there that Thor stands, watching the girl wave and make her way down the street before he prepares to fly off again, looking for the next danger to Midgard... or Midgard's random citizens. The sky above is once more clear and brightly painted. Beth is flying. Not the way heroes fly, but it feels that way. She's running, heading back into Hell's Kitchen along the Hudson, and her watch says she's gone just over ten miles. She's dressed in black shorts and running shirt, sneakers, water pack with a taser slipped into elastic straps she added to the underside. No headphones--she's not foolish.

Running makes her feel free. Happy. She vaults a bus bench for fun then crosses the street to get closer to the river, kicking into a sprint until she's on the sidewalk again.

The sound of feet running on pavement catches the Storm Lord's attention. Thor turns to see Beth running, pell-mell, down the sidewalk toward him. His eyes narrow, mind at once worried that she's being chased. His hand once more settles upon the runed haft of Mjolnir.

Beth is fond of running along the water. For a moment, her attention is on the waking docks and the boats on the river. When she scans ahead again, she sees what a delivery van blocked from her sight before--the same red cape and blond hair as yesterday. She slides to a halt so fast that her sneakers squeak on the sidewalk and she reaches under her water pack to feel that her taser--for what little it may be worth--is still there.

Thor sees nothing, but as Beth skids to a stop he grows faintly more concerned. What could cause a mortal to run so quickly? He can not imagine. He starts toward Beth, listening and feeling out, wondering if Midgard is in danger, if his brother is behind the girl's frightened run. Beth backs up to keep the same distance between them. "Don't come closer," she warns. "Stay there. What do you want?" There are workers at the docks but they're a long way off.

At Bethany's request, Thor stops. His eyes are confused, head tilting faintly. "As thou requests, m'lady," he rumbles softly. "Here I stay. I want nothing more than the protection of my fair Midgard. Thou did appear frightened. Art thou in need of... saving?"

"Not until you showed up. Is your friend with you, the creepy one?" Beth takes a chance on looking around. "He said he'd be back."

Thor frowns lightly, but stops to seriously consider the question. His eyes flicker with storm clouds as he seeks to sense his brother near by, but comes up wanting. It's concerning, and Thor tries to smile reassuringly past the sensation as he once again regards Bethany, replying, "Nay, m'lady. I sense not mine brother's presence near at hand. We are alone." "I think that's... preferable." Bethany looks around again. She's not completely convinced. She feels safe enough to take her hand off the taser for a moment, keeping a careful eye on Thor as she stretches out her legs a little to keep them from cramping. "Who the hell are you? Who is he? What's with the magic and the flying?"

Oh! Introductions! Thor had overlooked that. Such bad manners he's acquired as of late. His right hand comes off his weapon, moving to cover his chest over his heart, as he sweeps into a formal bow.

"I hailnot from Helheim, for I am Thor Odinson, Child of Jord, Son of Frigga, Scion and Prince of Asgard. I am called Donar the Mighty, Wielder of Mjolnir, Protector of Midgard, Lord of Storms, Bringer of Lightning and Rain, and the God of Thunder." Thor straightens, ready to answer the next question. "The other is my brother, Loki Laufeyson, Trickster of Asgard, the God of Mischief. It is he who doth weild magics, and oft times his jests are frowned upon. My deepest apologies to thee, fair lady, if his tricks did frighten." "They were wrong and they pissed me off." Okay, and it scared Bethany--not the acts themselves but the potential that they represented. "And, look. I work with some 'different' people who have their 'quirks'." Bethany makes free with the air quotes "But none of them claim to be legendary Norse gods. And if they did, they wouldn't be living in -Manhattan-. Do you have... I don't know. ID?" Maybe that'll clear it up.

To her admission Thor sighs, a weight of responsibility upon his great shoulders. He would say more, but Bethany speaks again, and confirms her disbelief in him. His smile is light, indulgant. This has happened often since his return. He moves slowly, having noticed the girl's fear, and unclips his hammer from his belt. "Does thou know of Mjolnir, the relic of Asgard," he asks gently, holding the hammer nonthreateningly so that Beth can see it for all that it is. The runes seem almost to glow as the hammer rests lightly, appearing to weigh little more than a few pounds, in his hands. "I'm familiar with the story," Beth says cautiously. She shifts in place uncomfortably then has to silence her watch as it queries her stillness with a squawk. "Did you make that? It's very good. Looks just like the ones in the books and pictures. Are you... doing some kind of promotional thing? Or are you just a vigilante who went to a good prep school?"

Thor's expression flickers from pleased to a humble headshake to faint curious confusion again. Some of those words, used that way, just don't make complete sense to the Lightning Bringer. "Nay, m'lady. Twas the svartálfar that did forge mine hammer. Truly to I say to thee, I am Thor." He takes a half step forward and rests Mjolnir gently upon the ground before him before stepping away from the relic. "Thou doth know the stories, that none but I may lift the hammer," he prompts, voice faintly questioning before motioning to the artifact resting easily on the sidewalk. "Mine proof is this: thou can not lift Mjolnir," he says simply, stepping back once more, giving the girl the space she seems to like. Bethany considers this. Even if the guy is 'roided up, she should be able to at least shift it. "Yeah, sure." She resolves not to actually pick the thing up in case the "God of Thunder" snaps when his delusion meets reality.

She eyes the hammer with interest as she approaches it. Doesn't look trapped. And, really, she's not interesting enough to be the focus of something so elaborate. Metahumans tend to pick on each other, which was what weirded her out about the dark-haired guy messing with the kids.

Cautiously, she pushes at the handle. It doesn't move. Huh.

She nudges it with her foot. Nothing.

Giving in to the challenge, she takes the handle in both hands to try and shift the hammer. It's not even that it's too heavy. Bethany knows what 'too heavy' feels like. This thing doesn't move like it's anchored to the center of the Earth. Like it has it's own gravity. Like it doesn't even know she's there.

She crouches down to look closer at it. "Now, that's -interesting-," she murmurs.

But the rub is that Mjolnir knows Bethany is there, and when her hands closed over the haft, it glanced into her heart and found her wanting. Thor remains where he is, calmed and undisturbed. Mortals like their proofs and their reasonings for things. A trait that has never failed to intrigue the prince. When Bethany crouches to look upon the runes, Thor turns his gaze away. Trouble? No. Nothing of so great an import that it requires his immediate attention. Blue-gray eyes turn back to Beth, watching her study the relic, those runes. The glow within them seems to have faded. Truly, Mjolnir looks like nothing more than a mere hammer. Striking surfaces are smooth from use, as is the leather of the haft. "Okay, so. I'm still not buying the whole you being a God thing, in the sense of omnipotent and omniscient, but I will accept that you are -something- or -someone- who's doing a damn good job of fitting the stories." Bethany takes a step back and gestures for Thor to pick up his hammer again. "Thor it is, I can work with that. Hell, you may even be the same guy who said he was Thor to some cold, scruffy Vikings way back when, I don't know. You'll forgive my caution, I hope. I can't speak for your--your brother?--but you've been nothing but polite. I'm Bethany Cabe." She offers Thor her hand to shake.

As Bethany steps from Mjolnir, Thor holds out his right hand to summon it. It seems to just fling itself toward his waiting hand. The runes resume glowing, almost happily, as the weapon resettles itself in his grip. He clips the hammer to his belt before he sets forward, to collect Bethany's hand. Given the very American bent of her hand, he's forced to gently turn her palm downward so her knuckles will face up, so that he can bow over her hand. Motion complete, the prince steps back once more.

"An honor to meet thee, Bethany Cabe. And yes, I am the same Thor from those stories, though from what I have heard, somethings have been altered inthe numerous retellings; It bothers me not," he comments lightly, smiling warmly before he purses his lips. "Again, for my brother, I greatly apologize." "Is he... he was kidding about coming back, right?" Bethany tries to laugh it off. "You don't have to apologize for him. We can't control our relatives, even if we love them and wish they'd change."

Oh, no truer an arrow could Bethany have struck into Thor's heart! The Thunderer can only shrug lightly. "I have never known my Brother to break an oath once given," states Thor with a soft bit of apology and fatigue. "Good to know my 'attract men who are lousy for me' powers are still working." Beth leans one hand against a lamp post as she stretches out her quads. Ouch. "You don't happen to know some big guy... maybe Mojo-something? Big. Blobby. Freaky pig-faced guards. He's got this chick with six arms and... I sound crazy now. Sorry. I just. Someone took me somewhere the day before I ran into you and your brother. Some kind of weird game. I know this is like asking someone from New York if they know your friend Bob, but..."

"But all creatures beyond thy kenning might be connected," Thor finishes for Bethany. "Tis not a thing thou needs to seek my pardon for. But nay, and my apologies to thee, I do not know of this Mojosomething," he replies, eyes sliding down to her legs as she stretched. Odd motion. Thor blinks twice in rapid succession before his eyes lift back to Bethany's face. There's a light smile. God here; not doing much. "It just has me a little on edge. I lost six hours. I want to know why." Bethany bounces on her toes. "I'm sorry, you were probably doing something, going somewhere... I was just out for a run."

"I have done what I had been sent to do fow now. Midgard has no urent need of me at current," Thor replies, then his head tilts. "Praythee, -why- wert thou 'out for a run'? What manner of creature so gave chase to thee to spur thee to such speeds," he asks, doing little more than noting her 'on edge' comment; he is no time lord to shift back and forth along the fabric of Fate to see the whens and wheres and whys of a thing. Not yet, anyway. Perhaps, closer to Ragnarok does Thor gain the ability to transcend time and space. For now, let us all pray that day is FAR off. "I run because I can. To see how far and fast I can go and to make myself go farther and faster. I don't like to compete against others much. When I run, I compete against myself. It makes me strong, gives me endurance for my work." Bethany gives him a grin. She's always happy to explain one of her favourite past times. "And, it just feels good."

Thor smiles, really smiles at that. He nods, giving a half bow and a step back. "Then I go, that I shall not further interupt thy joys," he says as he straightens up, about ready to fly along. Already the Thunder God is begining to float himself from the ground. "Nice to meet you, Thor." Bethany waves and can't believe she said that. "Have a good day." Her phone buzzes frantically. HQ is expecting her back already. She answers it as she watches Thor leave. "Hey. Yeah, I'm fine. Just ran into someone I... know. I'm two blocks out."