( open ) liberate your sons and daughters the bush is high but in the hole there's water

[synergismus]

Who: Everyone!
What: Events around the city, any time.
Where: Everywhere in Baedal.
When: Whenever you’d like.
Notes:

• Behold, your all-purpose open game log. There are a couple pre-written starters to help you generate new and open CR, and you may also use this post to start your own group activities or planned threads. GO WILD!
  
• No one is late to this post. You may use it forever.
  
• The companion thread for this post is right here!
  
• DON'T THINK TOO HARD ABOUT IT JUST RP.
  
• Helpful links: Neighbourhoods, City Map.
  
• Lucky Pastry Advice for the Month of Velldaren: A truly rich life contains love and art in abundance.
  

Warnings: Zombie horrors in the appropriately titled ZOMBIES! thread, otherwise TBA. Please put warnings in subject lines of your comments if content warrants one.

Comments

(brock marsh)

[berserkergang]

The frequency with which Thor Odinson falls out the sky is probably concerning. For anyone involved.

By the grace of gods no one is hurt when he lands hard enough that it seems like he was forcibly ejected from above, the sky already cloudy, thunder rumbling. Pavement flies as debris as he tears a trench through the road before stilling, apparently unconscious, but before anyone nearby can be overly concerned, there's the whistling of something else flying through. A blockish object hits the ground roughly beside him, pinwheeling at a bounce away again as it skips down the road like a rock tossed over a lake, before finally landing, embedded; the hammer rests with its handle erect, half-buried in shattered cobblestone.

All is quiet, for a moment, but just as Thor begins to think about opening his eyes, tension pulling expression in his face, the sky opens and rain comes crashing down, thick and fast.

[goodsoldier]

When it rains in Brock Marsh, it may be wise to check that the rain isn't the byproduct of some kind of horrible experiment. Distracted scientists shouting 'quick, get into the chemical bath' are usually unambiguous signs. In this case, Jason can't quite bring himself to go through with this procedure, since rain is not nearly as high on the list of prioritized concerns (and is way too heavy in any case). Not far down the street, there's a guy who just fell out of the fucking sky. He wrecked a good deal of the street in the process, while not appearing to have dislodged any of his own bits. This is a solid individual.

And while this sort of thing does sometimes amount to street theater in Baedal, it only qualifies as such if the guy's not dangerous. Jason joins the first cautious gawkers. It's someone he recognizes as being from his cohort — the shouty guy who claimed to be Thor. And sure enough, that looks like a giant fucking hammer a bit down the road.

No one is going to poke Thor with a stick, seeing as how he looks to be stirring, but the attitude is still there, even as the rain overwhelms the curiosity of many of the people on the scene.

"Kristos," someone to Jason's left mutters, trying in vain to shield themselves with a folded newspaper as they hurry toward shelter. Jason lingers a moment, squinting at Thor warily.

Suddenly, the rain in the vicinity of his head stops falling, which is odd because it hasn't stopped falling anywhere else. Jason reaches up and removes a hat. It is not a hat he recalls owning. It appears to be a Stetson. Seconds after its removal, the rain stops again. Jason makes a grunt of surprise and removes another hat. This one is a fedora, which he flings away in disgust. But then there's another hat, he can feel that much, and he gives up, unaware that he is now the proud owner of a sodden Hello Kitty hat. Whatever, a hat is welcome in this rain, even if some jackass is teleporting them onto his head for whatever godforsaken reason. Back to important matters.

"Hey, you awake?"

[berserkergang]

What Jason gets in return is a rumbling grunt of protest to-- the concept of being awake, probably. There is little very ordinary about Thor, for all that big white blonde dudes can be inherently unremarkable -- armor, for one thing, of a strange and intricate make encases his torso, dressed entirely in alien alloy and leather, arms bare to the elements save for vambraces etched with rune-like patterns. Squinting awake, he raises an arm to shield his face from the downpour, giving a bear-like snort of protest as he sets about climbing out of the shallow grave he's dug himself. He moves as if sore, or tired, for all that falling from the sky ought signify more damage than it has.

Doesn't quite make it to his feet, lumbering instead to hands and knees, scarlet cloak dragging damply from his shoulders, mud already formed to cling to metal and skin both. He peers up at Jason properly then, burning blue eyes vaguely accusing through wet rat-tail blonde locks. Then regards the street. Then Jason.

"What realm is this?" he asks, his voice full with baritone volume.

[goodsoldier]

If Thor seemed more aggressive or even just more lively, Jason would take a few steps back. He has faced down metahumans before, even ones as seemingly solid as Thor, but that was at home, where they all look and sound uniformly ridiculous. 'Thor' looks and sounds a hell of a lot like you'd imagine Thor would, which could mean just about anything here. That's serious armor. That's a serious weapon, embedded in the street down there. Jason's instincts are entirely against the common courtesy of offering Thor a hand up, but after a moment of strong hesitation, he does so as he answers. (He has to toss the Stetson aside, which is fine by him. Even if he knew he was wearing a Hello Kitty hat, he'd choose that over the Stetson.)

"Baedal." Still, he's guessing, and he doesn't say it. It's probably kind of audible nonetheless.

[berserkergang]

Yes. Still.

Meanwhile, the Mighty Thor needs no hand up! Except he does, actually, feeling worn down in a way he hasn't since he was cast on Midgard that one time when his life changed, and knows that can only mean one thing. Though he seems grudging about it, Jason will find his wrist clasped in the demigod's grip, strength tested as Thor gets to his feet to rise to his full 6'4" height. For all that his powers have reverted back to that of a mortal man, Thor's worst is still most people's best.

A look cast to the sky is one full of blame, before dropping back to Jason-- distracted by what is on the man's head, a brief squint, but there are all kinds here in Baedal. Including people who wear strange hats. (This, coming from an Asgardian.) The rain continues, unrelenting.

"These little gods do not look kindly upon those who would--"

Wait.

Wait.

Where is his--

"Hammer!" Thor interrupts himself with, upon realising how empty his hands are.

[goodsoldier]

Through an effort of will (and prepared bracing), Jason remains both upright and silent, instead of uttering a very dignified 'hurk'. Regardless of resolve, however, Jason does take a hasty step back when Thor — exclaims, that wasn't really a shout, Jason has heard him shout — about the hammer. It's not about nerve, it's just being pragmatic. Besides, Thor did just say 'little gods' and while Jason isn't entirely sure about how much he believes in the active intervention of various divinities, it seems like a straightforward guess that Thor just tried to leave and they or Vague Forces of Stuff backhanded him right back down. Maybe it'd be best to stand aside.

"Over there." He points, and then pulls off his current hat because it's soaked. What the hell is that. The new hat has a wider brim, which is useful, at least. And hopefully it doesn't have a penis or a swastika on top. (It doesn't.)

[berserkergang]

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.

[goodsoldier]

The encounter (if that's the right word) between Thor and hammer seems to be awkward and personal, and Jason wonders if he's supposed to not watch. There are a lot of other things to look at, from his growing hat collection to all the people around them. But nobody seems to be in immediate danger, or immediately dangerous. He gives the Hello Kitty hat to a small, miserable child who has stopped talking because tiny frogs fall out of her mouth every time she speaks, which at least seems painless for all parties involved. He keeps his eye on Thor throughout, and once the child has wandered off, hat jammed down low over her eyes, goes back to watching.

Why reluctant? It seems to be more than uncertainty in his strength. (Across the street, the little girl scowls and spits frogs at her brother, who shrieks.)

[berserkergang]

Jason isn't the only one watching. People taking less of a hands on approach to the situation are also making glances, and Thor is dimly aware of it. Maybe he's being self-conscious! Primarily, however, he is avoiding disappointment.

Hammer located. Good enough for now. Not worried about anyone, you know, stealing it, Thor turns back towards Jason as he takes his CiD from some pocket. It looks thoroughly broken, though he pushes a few buttons anyway in a moment dim optimism, or frustration, take your pick. Nothing happens. With a guttural sound of anger, Thor flings the object away to shatter even more against nearby brick, pieces landing in the quickly forming puddles.

"I will need another," he-- announces. To the street. To Jason? Hi Jason, you're still here, and possibly on the shortlist of perfectly nice people to get wrangled into assisting spacevikings along with such names as Jane Foster and Jae-Hyun Kim.

Having forgotten or discarded what he was saying previously, Thor casts another glance up at the sky, distrustful of the weather, lightning flickering through the clouds with the speed and consistency of a lizard's tongue tasting air.

[goodsoldier]

Jason is on so few people's lists of helpful persons that he actually looks to either side of him, then behind, before concluding Thor was sort of generally those in the vicinity. 'Those' happen to be comprised of him.

"You should ask someone from your cohort, maybe." He is just not sure letting Thor know he's in his cohort is a good decision. After a moment of watching Thor looking up at the sky, Jason takes off his hat and offers it to him. The hat that replaces that one looks like a deerstalker.

[berserkergang]

Concluding that the thunder storm continuing on above them is only indirectly his make, Thor looks at the. Hat. That is offered him. For someone whose ceremonial armour has a helmet involved with metal feathers attached on either side, his nose-wrankle of irritation is probably unfair. But he has no need of hats, on this day.

Just technology. There's an internal struggle where he attempts to quash the urge to order Jason to hand over his CiD, before he simply just nods. Alright. Someone from his cohort. Hands loosen, reclench, and then winds up taking the hat in a manner that's almost rueful.

"Then I shall seek them. Thank you."