Thor Odinson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
worldsaway) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2014-09-11 02:33 pm
worldsaway) wrote in thearena2014-09-11 02:33 pm
Entry tags:
Bless my soul [open]
WHO| Thor Odinson and OPEN
WHAT| Thor around the mall, beverages, roombas and shirtlessness within.
WHERE| Water fountains, food court, anywhere you want him.
WHEN| Week 3
WARNINGS| Standard Hunger Games stuff. He's dressed like this.
[Food Court.]
Thus far, this Arena has proven to be slower than the last. Thor wants to say duller, but deep down he knows admitting that would be coaxing chaos. The food court explosions had been eventful, but not in the way of a spirited battle. It's almost funny to him, how good he probably would have been at this sort of thing when he was a hotheaded fool. He's certain he would have fought any who opposed him, but he probably would have traipsed into a trap long ago.
He thinks this and yet, he's wandering back into the scene of the carnage from a few days ago. It seems as if all has settled for the moment, but he searches around curiously for anything that could be of use, keeping an eye out for anyone who might still be here. His searches bring him to cans of what looks to be drinks served alongside meals. The bright colours make him wary, but the promise of UNLIMITED ENERGY is tempting indeed. He packs some away to share, cracking open the gaudy can to try it. He wasn't sure what he expected, but the sweetness of it almost has him sputtering. He cannot deny that the flavour is appealing, so he'll keep hand of it as he travels.
[Chasing Roomba.]
The promise of UNLIMITED ENERGY was not folly, Thor feels abuzz with enthusiasm and adrenaline and he stalks the mall for a target. When it becomes apparent that the robotic creatures have become aggressive, they seem as good an opponent as any. Thor charges at them whenever he sees one, kicking and seeking to destroy the vicious little machines. He has weaponry, but he seems to prefer crushing them with his feet and arms.
The excersise is refreshing and he enjoys himself, so don't be too surprised if a wall of thunder god bellows at you to be wary, rapidly approaching with what looks to be hoped up energy drink. "This drink is most excellent." He assures, pressing it into the hands of strangers before taking it upon himself to protect anyone and everyone from small vacuuming robots with weirdly aggressive tendencies.
[Washing off/Fountains.]
A sugar crash is a most awful thing to experience. Two or three cans had him on top of the world and eagerly bounding through the mall, now he feels as if he could sleep for years or more. He can't afford the lethargy, so he decides his best course of action is to wash. He strips his dressing gown and armored shirt off entirely, realising he ought to replace the garment now that the weeks have progressed.
He splashes the cool water of the fountain on his face after cupping some into his hand, repeating the motion a few times over his face again and his chest. He certainly feels more refreshed and far more alert, so he'll flick his hair aside to listen for any approaching with a suspicious look. When he feels safe, he isn't inclined to put the gross and well worn shirt back on, so he'll continue his travels without it and in search of new coverage.
WHAT| Thor around the mall, beverages, roombas and shirtlessness within.
WHERE| Water fountains, food court, anywhere you want him.
WHEN| Week 3
WARNINGS| Standard Hunger Games stuff. He's dressed like this.
[Food Court.]
Thus far, this Arena has proven to be slower than the last. Thor wants to say duller, but deep down he knows admitting that would be coaxing chaos. The food court explosions had been eventful, but not in the way of a spirited battle. It's almost funny to him, how good he probably would have been at this sort of thing when he was a hotheaded fool. He's certain he would have fought any who opposed him, but he probably would have traipsed into a trap long ago.
He thinks this and yet, he's wandering back into the scene of the carnage from a few days ago. It seems as if all has settled for the moment, but he searches around curiously for anything that could be of use, keeping an eye out for anyone who might still be here. His searches bring him to cans of what looks to be drinks served alongside meals. The bright colours make him wary, but the promise of UNLIMITED ENERGY is tempting indeed. He packs some away to share, cracking open the gaudy can to try it. He wasn't sure what he expected, but the sweetness of it almost has him sputtering. He cannot deny that the flavour is appealing, so he'll keep hand of it as he travels.
[Chasing Roomba.]
The promise of UNLIMITED ENERGY was not folly, Thor feels abuzz with enthusiasm and adrenaline and he stalks the mall for a target. When it becomes apparent that the robotic creatures have become aggressive, they seem as good an opponent as any. Thor charges at them whenever he sees one, kicking and seeking to destroy the vicious little machines. He has weaponry, but he seems to prefer crushing them with his feet and arms.
The excersise is refreshing and he enjoys himself, so don't be too surprised if a wall of thunder god bellows at you to be wary, rapidly approaching with what looks to be hoped up energy drink. "This drink is most excellent." He assures, pressing it into the hands of strangers before taking it upon himself to protect anyone and everyone from small vacuuming robots with weirdly aggressive tendencies.
[Washing off/Fountains.]
A sugar crash is a most awful thing to experience. Two or three cans had him on top of the world and eagerly bounding through the mall, now he feels as if he could sleep for years or more. He can't afford the lethargy, so he decides his best course of action is to wash. He strips his dressing gown and armored shirt off entirely, realising he ought to replace the garment now that the weeks have progressed.
He splashes the cool water of the fountain on his face after cupping some into his hand, repeating the motion a few times over his face again and his chest. He certainly feels more refreshed and far more alert, so he'll flick his hair aside to listen for any approaching with a suspicious look. When he feels safe, he isn't inclined to put the gross and well worn shirt back on, so he'll continue his travels without it and in search of new coverage.
fountain but afterward
Also she wasn't stopping and staring like she'd been caught off-guard while walking through the mall. She was watching from behind a mannequin in the front window of NeverXXI. And she definitely hadn't stopped watching once she realized what was going on.
Molotov was pretty sure that Thor was still the one in the wrong here.
It's not until he starts walking down the hall, still all wet and drippy, that she moves to the entranceway of the store and whistles to get his attention. If he looks over, she's holding up the camping towel from her kit bag, waving it vaguely.
"Need this?"
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Perhaps he is the one in the wrong to Molotov, but in his mind he's created no cause for concern. He is but a damp man drifting through the halls as he pleases. Who is he to judge if people find enjoyment in such a gesture?
He pauses in his movement when Molotov whistles, turning with a suspicious glance before breaking into a smile. She was a strange woman to be sure, but she was good fun and a great ally.
"I would not object to it." Which suggests that he doesn't believe he needs it at all, but he'll approach for it anyway. "Do I look rather less like a hobo?"
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Molotov hands over the towel -- it's a little funky-smelling by now, but still as absorbent as ever, so he won't have any issues with it. "I wouldn't mistake you for one, no," she says, heading back into the store, "but you can probably avoid the issue altogether with what's in here. Besides, you've been wearing the same clothes for weeks."
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The smell, if he notices it, certainly doesn't bother him. He uses it to wipe off his face and fluff his hair before draping it around his neck to hold onto for the moment.
"Glad to hear it." He smirks, following her without a moment of hesitation. "So I have. I've not thought to change." He glances around, unsure where to begin. "What would you recommend?" He assumes she knows better than he would.
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There's a split second where Molotov looks perhaps a bit surprised, like she didn't really expect that kind of answer. But it's only a beat before she smiles and marches forward into the depths of the store, looking for something for him to wear. He's handed a grey henley with long sleeves, one she knows will be tight on his enormous frame, and a pair of jeans.
"Try these."
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"Gladly." He says in a grateful tone, taking the clothing in his arm and draping the jeans to the side as he works on pulling the shirt over his head. He brushes his hair out of the collar and tugs it as far down as it can manage before raising a brow at her. "Shall I adjourn or will you keep watch elsewhere?" It's pretty obvious he's asking if her sensibilities will be offended if he takes his pants off.
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"As you wish." He retorts obligingly, not wasting much time wrestling off his stupidly tight, shimmery pants. He should change his underwear, he thinks, but there will be a chance for it later. He doesn't bother to check on her until he's got the jeans up and over his ass, zipped and buttoned and ready to go.
"This will suffice." He gives his shoulders a roll, furrowing his brows. "It is tight." Says the man who was wearing a figure skating outfit a second ago.
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When he speaks again, she looks at him, then comes to tug at the hem of his shirt a little, considering the problem here. "Well, you have a larger frame than most people," she says, fussing with the way the collar opens as well. "I think probably it will stretch out as you wear it, get more comfortable. It's better than what you had on before."
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"So it is." He grunts agreeably, watching her when she tugs the hem and fusses and smiling almost fondly. "I thought you did not make friends in Arenas." He may be misremembering, but he wants to tease her anyway.
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"We were friends before the arena," she says, snorting a bit, and smooths out his wrinkles before stepping back, hands on her hips. "Isn't that why we went out drinking?"
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"I wonder how many have the same plan." He thinks out loud, reflecting on his last Arena. "I cannot remember how dire it was at this point last Arena, but it seems they will not be returning powers this time around." It isn't quite relevant, but the thought pops up and he's curious about it.
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