Summary:Thor moves into the Avenger's mansion and Steve has a pep-talk for the god of no-hammer. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Usually, Thor would have stopped by, had a few words, and that would be it, he'd be off again on some adventure.
So it is unusual, to say the least, that the Avengers would still have him present. He's left medical, though (who would willingly stay there, anyway?) and has moved up into the Study. He'd made a nest there of various items, and it's in something of a disarray. Yet Thor isn't immediately to be found there: he's off in the gym area, instead, would be the report if anyone was interested in figuring out exactly where the thunder god ended up.
*
After exchanging quiet words with Natasha about the state of the thunder god, the conclusion is that he should stay around the manor for at least enough time to collect his head — and maybe a few scattered items, given what Steve sees as he pauses before the open door of the study. The Captain sighs and rubs at the line of his jaw as he squints at it. "Thor?" He doesn't call out the Asgardian's name loudly, but no immediate response is likely proof that the blond is nowhere nearby.
It becomes a matter of elimination as the Captain works his way down through the levels and eventually to the gym itself. The sound of a living being moving around in it has him then entering the area. "Thor?" he calls out again. Steve's in blue plaid sweatpants and a t-shirt, indicative of him lounging around…for whatever counts as 'lounging' for the busiest of bumblebees.
*
"Someone seeks Thor?" Thor calls back, erupting from the shower room area. Don't worry: he's clothed. It's just not his usual: he's in civies. Meaning, he found a white zip-up hoodie, some jeans, and boots. The hoodie isn't big enough, therefore it's open. The jeans are leaving zero things to imagination. The boots do fit. They're just camel-yellow.
"Steve! Good evening! How do you fare this night?" Thor says, brazen and cheerful, striding out. He's very clearly recently out of the shower, his hair is slicked back, a small towel in his hands. It's actually just a normal sized towel, it's that Thor is enormous, so it makes it look like a hand towel.
*
"Hey. Can't complain," the Captain replies as he threads his way through the various altered workout stations. All are modified to offer appropriate resistance to the live-in heroes on-site, be it by weight or additional wider and thicker bands. A few have wheels that would daunt a standard human being. All gleam in black and chrome. Mirrors along the wall allow one to watch their form as they lift impossible amounts of weight mounted on barbells. The place smells faintly of sweat and more of cleaner, though not cloyingly.
"Wanted to touch base with you." He gives the Asgardian a detached once-over. "You look better than last night. No more…looking like you lost a fight with a wrecking ball," he says as he gestures at Thor in his too-small sweatshirt and awkward boots.
*
"That would be most embarrassing, to lose a fight to something inanimate," Thor says, making a slight scowl. But then he brightens, "Although I suppose you could say I did not win the fight against the ground, from falling from a high height," he teases, amused by his own joke. "I am battered, but I am all right; your concern for your team does you credit!" Thor assures Steve, crossing to offer an automatic greeting: an extended hand, though he'll grasp for wrist, distractedly.
"It appears, though, that Heimdall is not… available, so I may be around to assist the Avengers for a time," Thor says, as if it were all his idea.
*
Thor's warrior-grip is returned by the Captain along with a grin. He gives the muscled forearm under his palm a firm squeeze to boot, though it's nowhere near what a standard guardsman of the Golden City might deliver. At the mention of the Asgardian gatekeeper, Steve glances upwards at the gym's ceiling, as if he could see beyond it and the light-years between Midgard and Asgard.
"He's gone quiet?" Thor then receives a very concerned frown. "You know we're glad to host you for as long as you want, but radio silence? What's to be done about it?"
*
"He hears me…. but…" Thor draws his arm back, and looks around the gym, and then up above him. He's trying to come up with a way to say it that still keeps his mood up. Finally Thor just quiets, and rakes fingers back through his hair on one side, giving Steve a more serious look. Another breath is needed, as he comes around slowly to admitting a difficult truth.
"It is not the first time this has happened," Thor explains. He eases to sit down on a weight bench, resting forearms against his knees. "It is… a lesson."
*
Shifting his weight on his feet, Steve turns as he watches the Asgardian come to his conclusion. The frown doesn't abate; if anything, it deepens and in flows a coloring of sympathy.
"You're telling me that the Asgardian god of thunder just got grounded." The Captain tucks his chin and gives Thor a lingering look after delivering the gentle if wry quip.
*
Thor fiddles with the zipper on his hoodie on one side, and scowls very deeply at Steve's remark, with a wrinkle of nose and brow. Doing so youthens Thor a great deal, that stubborn movement. But he can allow a laugh to come out, to laugh at himself. Thor's nature is not a sour or negative one, usually: it takes a lot to weigh him down.
"That is reasonably accurate, although I can still fight just as well without being airborne," Thor reminds Steve with a pointed thrust of one finger, and smile. It was important to Thor to not seem weak, despite the problem.
"I can use this time to assist the Avengers," he adds, as if that were half as much to himself as it is to Steve.
*
Both hands are lifted towards Thor and even Steve can't help grinning at him. The Asgardian's nature is infectious much of the time, even in difficult instances.
"Hey, nobody here's going to doubt that you can't throw a punch with the best of us. The library's proof of how durable you are. Just gotta thumb at that to make my point." He does this very thing back over his shoulder and in the direction of the semi-trashed room. Already, recovery is under work and rather than strewn with battered books and torn pages, the place is cordoned off for construction work. The hole in the ceiling is patched if not completely fixed. "And we can always use your help," Steve's sure to add, putting his hands back comfortably on his hips. "You can stay in one of the guest bedrooms though. No need to rack up in the study."
*
A slight puzzlement quirks Thor's brows and he looks towards the Library's direction. It takes a moment, and he laughs, and indicates backwards with a thumb as well. "AH. Yes. An accurate thumbing," Thor agrees, willing to go along with Steve about it, since it is clearly something positive for Thor. And he's eager to accept some praise right now, in his low spot: even if he wouldn't admit it.
"Excellent. I will acquire a guest room forthwidth," Thor nods. "I am also handy with a hammer, should construction assistance be needed," he jokes, but he does also mean it.
*
"I wasn't going to ask, but we'd appreciate it," replies Steve to the offer for construction aid. "Didn't know if you'd take it as a sleight if I did, with your hammer and all. Feel free to touch base with the contractors tomorrow when they come back again. They'll probably be happy for your assistance, especially with the heavier materials."
The Captain then walks over and sits down beside Thor on a neighboring weight bench. "Look. You're in good company. Nobody's mad." He claps the Asgardian on the shoulder pretty heftily once or twice. "We'll get it figured out."
*
"It is not a slight to ask the strong to assist in areas that they excel," Thor answers. "Even when I become king, I would not ask anyone to do something I were not willing to do myself," Thor says, in his directly honest way. Thor has a manner of speaking from the heart with an earnest and open quality: a wisdom that has a depth that can sometimes surprise from the large muscular god.
"Mjolnir will not be present, unfortunately. That is part of the grounding," Thor says, in a very pained manner, as if he were admitting to Steve the news of a hurtful breakup that he was not ready or prepared for. "Thank you for your support. It is, indeed, just a matter of time. Perspective. And father seeing things my way." Thor smiles, optimistic.
*
A low whistle from Steve. "Yikes. He took the keys too, huh. To the car, I mean. It's a saying that means that you get some thing that allows freedom taken away from you until you earn it again. The hammer," he further clarifies with a lift of his hand. His palm falls back to his thigh again.
"Pretty sure you can handle yourself without it, but 'm still sorry to hear it. It'd be like someone telling me that I can't use my shield. It'd feel…" The Captain pauses to consider. "Like suddenly having to eat soup without a spoon. You can do it, it's just easier having the spoon."
*
Thor starts to pretend everything is fine, he nods, with a slow and deliberate flex of his forearms. "Of course. I am not the god of hammers, after all," Thor says. A slight glimmer of electricity flutters along both of the interiors of his arms, lighting up the array of veins and musculature thick in the godly physique. It is a show that is probably lost on the current audience, but that isn't the purpose of it. It is for Thor to improve his own morale.
"Before Mjolnir I fought many battles, felled many beasts and villains," Thor asserts, rising to the pleasure of telling a tale. He deflates, though, suddenly. "But Mjolnir /is/ incredible," he says, with a depth of loss, letting his hands droop back, the electricity fading. "The reins to the chariot."
*
Steve watches the flickers of lightning dance along the man's hands and minds himself to keep a comfortable length from accidental touch. The memories of past collisions alongside the Asgardian against fellow foes are bright reminders of his inherent strength. The Captain makes to remind him of this.
"You're not a bad guy. You've got a heart in the right place. So you got into a fight." He shrugs. "The storm'll blow over. For now, you're with friends. Tomorrow's a new day and who knows what it'll bring."
*
Thor turns his head towards Steve. There's only the length of a breath of a pause, and Thor laughs, moving suddenly to move over to share Steve's bench and hook an arm around his teammate's shoulders with a companionable friendliness. Thor's smile is infectuous, it touches far more than just his mouth, but his eyes, voice, body: all of it.
"/Indeed!/ I am with the strongest and best of companions. Well said. Are you hungry, Steven? Let us eat upstairs in the dining hall?" Thor invites.
*
"Fridge just got refilled," the Captain confirms with a quiet laugh. After returning the gesture, he rises to his feet. "There's probably some leftover pizza. There's always leftover pizza." It has the sound of an old if fondly-resigned gripe from Steve. "Dunno if there's ale, but there's probably a six-pack of something in there as well. We'll eat it cold. Ever had cold pizza?"
Steve asks this as he leads the way from the gym area. "Surprisingly good. Guess there's some truth to the adage 'blank is as good as cold pizza'."
*
"Well, let us find out!" Thor declares loudly, as if he were rallying the entire gym to go. But it is just the two of them, so it's just excessively loud. "Come! We shall have the coldest of pizza, then, and it shall be the blank," he continues, picking up on the turn of phrase. He leads the way, loose ends of the zipper hoodie flapping back as he smartly heads towards the stairs.