Jason is not the only one experiencing a little cosmic weirdness, as a few bystanders who hadn't immediately tried to escape the rain find affect. There's a shriek as a woman somewhere behind them suddenly finds that her ponytail has grown out at an alarming rate and is wrestling her for her umbrella, until she kind of just gives in and crouches slightly as prehensile hair helpfully opens up the tool and holds it above her. Cool. Okay. Across the street, someone else is glowing different colours at will, toying with the ability with the affect of someone who has never previously done this before, neon splashes of colour basking down the slicked street.

Thor ignores all of this, though, turning to look where Jason indicates, although not before affirming, distractedly, "That one is better."

Trudge, trudge. Thor starts for his hammer, but his gait is not a stride -- in fact, there is a certain reluctance, now that he knows where the object has landed. He doesn't even walk all the way over, stopping after a few paces, his primary hand twitching like he'd raise it, before halting the movement as well. Open pensiveness is worn as kicked-dog scowl, chin tucking in. He doesn't really want to try.