On we march, with a midnight song. [OPEN]

[worldsaway]

Who| Thor and EVERYONE come get a look at this face.
What| Thor around the Arena from beginning to before the end.
Where| The Arena, various locations.
When| Week 0 onward to the end.
Warnings/Notes| Fluffy kittens, baby ducks, suicide missions, Chris Hemsworth talking provocatively and violence.


[A. Saving people from gas (Week 1):]
Heightened senses are an added bonus of being an Asgardian. His hearing and vision have improved some since regaining his powers to his pleasure, but it doesn't always bode well for him. He's sure he hears screams in the distance, he's sure he hears the sounds of seeping as he trudges deeper into the labs. The rolling cloud of fog soon becomes apparent and he doesn't waste time lingering to find out what it might be. He's certainly curious, but he knows better than to sate such feelings when it comes to Arenas.

He runs, tearing through the halls so fast his boots thud on the ground like thunder. The fog nips at his heels and ankles, but his durability ensures that he feels little more than a sting for the most part. He's sure that faltering or falling behind would prove worse, so he doesn't hesitate to warn people as he rounds corners and approaches.

"Run!" He calls out in front of him. He isn't in the spirit of watching people suffer, not when he's certain it would be a painful and slow death designed to make a man weep for mercy. If he happens upon you, he's probably grabbing your arm or herding you along as he casts a desperate glance behind him.

[B. Hunting and hauling a xenomorph back to Carlos (Various):]
After a flippant conversation with Carlos, a question has been weighing on his mind quite heavily. Are Xenomorphs edible? It seems unlikely, given their origins and the fact that they look vile in every way possible. He spends time in the Abandoned Zones trying to isolate them so he can kill them. He might be enjoying himself too much in that regard, he did always enjoy a battle against enemies he feels true resentment for.

Eventually he succeeds in his quest, which is made apparent by the fact that he's traversing back toward his safe spot with a new friend. A dead friend. He's dragging a dead xenomorph across the ground by the leg. In a place with such a limited food source, it seems wrong not to at least try. Perhaps he ought to be focusing on future tasks rather than trying to get himself into trouble, but unfortunately his usefulness where science is involved is fairly limited. At least he can put his skills to the use elsewhere, for now.

[C. Eating a tube of toothpaste (Early Week 3):]
Thor's collaborations with Carlos are drawing closer to their end. Everything is coming together and their end goal is practically visible on the horizon. It's only a small matter of time until they're ready, not that anyone but the two of them really know that. Thor has kept his involvement on the down low, it would be meaningless if the Gamemakers caught wind of their intentions before they truly came to light.

If there's a day of significance, Thor knows nothing about it. The decorations and gifts are nothing more than confusing and insidious. It might as well be deadly gas for all it really means to him, but the sponsor gift is welcome. He at least knows what it is, he knows the purpose of a toothbrush and the paste that accompanies it after a small lecture long ago. On the other hand, he isn't entirely aware of the fact that eating paste right out of the tube is probably not good for him.

And yet here he is, striding the halls of the spaceport and occasionally eating the delicious, minty paste from the tube. He'd like to hear anyone tell him he's wrong.

[D. Onward to grand justice (Last Week):]
Everything has lead to this moment. His alliance with Carlos, their meeting in the speakeasy and their rebellious meetings through the months of their budding friendship. It hadn't been a long wait until powers were returned, but Thor is reluctant to squander this opportunity. Powers may never return, this may be the last chance to show Panem just what it means to ensnare a God of Thunder. And a scientist, of course. Carlos is not to be forgotten in this equation. Together they have concocted a plan to take down the Arena, to take a stand finally rather than sitting on their hands and waiting. He knows in his heart that many will suffer for this, but their sacrifices will not be in vain and he will make sure of it. He will no longer stand idly by as people suffer, this needs to happen now. He will be called a fool, he's sure, but he'd rather be the fool who tried than the fool who lost hope.

He strides with purpose down the halls of the spaceport, his expression is dark and dangerous as he seeks out allies in his final moments. He may never return, he may suffer greatly and lose everything just as he may succeed and he may see his friends and allies free. He only hopes he can have a final moment with a small few before he embarks on the last leg of this journey.

Comments

C

[sizeofyourbaggage]

All right, even Sam has to do a double take when he steps into a hallway in the spaceport and spots the God of Thunder eating toothpaste right from the tube.

Unless there's been toiletries hidden around the spaceport that none of them have found out about until now, Sam's guessing that Thor found his "Christmas gift." Normally, Sam'd pretty much be running over there to tell him exactly why that's a bad idea, but, well. In a death arena where there's a severe lack of food, he's not sure eating toothpaste is really the worst idea, especially since he doesn't seem to be chugging the whole tube in one sitting.

So he shrugs, giving Thor a thumbs up. "Looks like you found your version of what the Capitol's probably calling a Christmas gift."

[worldsaway]

Thor has sustained himself through the Arena fairly well despite barely having fed himself through it. He can thank powers for that, but they don't do much for the fact that he still feels hungry. Toothpaste isn't particularly satisfying, but it hits the spot. Some strange spot that craves mint paste that he never knew existed.

He lights up from the petulant look he's giving the tube when Sam enters his line of vision. He smiles in greeting, even if it's a little strained. It hasn't been a particularly enjoyable Arena, of course.

"Indeed." He says plainly, with a slight pause. "Who is Christmas?"

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Sam smiles back, his own just as strained. It hasn't been a great week or two, no, and it doesn't help that this is supposed to be a holiday for celebration.

"Oh." Right, Norse god, probably not a lot of Christmases when he was growing up. "Christmas is a winter holiday celebrating the birth of a religious figure for a lot of people, back on Earth. There's a bunch of different traditions that come with it, mostly involving decorations and food, but the main thing is celebrating your family and friends, appreciating the people in your life. People get together to exchange gifts and eat as much good food as they can."

gimme dat D

[molotov]

By this point in the game, Molotov is a mess. She's obviously dying, her lean frame even skinnier than usual from not eating, her skin clammy and burning from fever. Dirty bandages wrap around her midsection, though the pus from the wound underneath is beginning to seep through in places.

She has a switchblade, crusted in blood, but she doesn't seem to be looking for violence -- it appears to be more for self-defense than anything. Her breathing is labored, since even navigating the Arena is a huge effort in her condition. When she runs into Thor, it's more accident than anything, and in her haze, she brandishes her (ridiculously small) knife at him.

"Who are you? What do you want!"

[worldsaway]

Somehow, Thor didn't imagine he'd see Molotov, even if he sought her out. She's an elusive and difficult woman at times, but she's his friend. She has shown him nothing but kindness and honesty, he would miss her dearly if he never spoke with her again from this day on. He's fond of her, and though he knows he doesn't need to protect her, he wants to help her all the same.

There's a twist of guilt in his gut when she comes into view, knowing that he was complicit in Tom's downfall this Arena. Did he leave her alone in doing so?

A frown tugs at his lips as the state she's in becomes more apparent. He isn't particularly afraid of the knife, but he's reasonably wary of what a pained and scared Molotov might do.

"A friend. Thor." He answers curtly, reaching forward to carefully place a hand over the wrist that holds her knife. "I would speak with you, if you would allow it."

[molotov]

She was left alone when Tom died. Tom had been taking care of her. Keeping her wound clean, protecting her, scavenging for supplies. Cooking the potatoes with his powers.

She's been deteriorating since his death.

Molotov's whole body shakes when he touches her, squinting at him as she fights the fever, the delirium that constantly threatens to take over now. It's like pushing back against a tidal wave -- it would be so easy to let it sweep her away, and yet she knows she can't give in, can't come this far just to give him.

"Thor?" She lets her knife flick closed, shivers again as another wave of the fever rolls over her. "Thor, it's cold."

A (eyyyyyy)

[biiowiired]

Psii shouldn't have been surprised someone was hurtling towards him, even after he'd stashed the obnoxious spacesuit in a safe place. Psii had been put in the worst color possible for camouflage. The alien space banana immediately surrounded himself with a defensive barrier of oscillating red and blue psionics. But a warning came instead of an attack, and there was no time to deliberate. He swiftly lifted off the ground to fly at the large human's pace.

"But what ith it?!"

The fog was on the human's heels, and Psii knew he couldn't just fly away and leave him like a chump. He'd told him to run instead of taking him down and leaving him to die in the fog. Psii wasn't about to repay his warning with that sort of callous violence, even if it might be incredibly easy to do so both on Alternia and in Panem. Signless and his own life's trials had taught him better than that.

"Ok dumbath, I don't care how beefy your thighth are, you're going nowhere fatht."

The same red and blue glow surrounded Thor as Psii lifted him off the ground with his mind, keeping pace with that sprint, but building up power to zoom them both as fast as their bodies could stand. His powers were weaker here, but he might still have enough juice to escape, provided the yellow-haired human cooperated.

[worldsaway]

Being conspicuous isn't on the cards for this Arena, it seems. A 6'6 wall of muscle and red spandex is what hurtles toward Psii. Though he's never spoken to him personally, he's liked every troll he's met. There's common ground in the fact that they're both technically aliens, he's grown quite fond of them. He can surmise that Psii is like a friend of one of the ones he knows, but it hardly matters. He'd rather not see anyone writhe and suffer from a death like that.

"Dangerous." He answers in a low growl, like that really alleviates Psii's confusion. He'd just been thinking that they need to travel up rather than forward, but he didn't expect to be lifted as if his thoughts were becoming reality.

He can't help letting out a grunt of confusion, thrashing briefly before cluing in to the fact that Psii is responsible for whatever is happening here. He flashes him a bewildered look, but it soon turns to a smirk which again turns to a bark of laughter. "Most impressive." He declares, clearly accustomed to rapid hurtling at dangerous speeds.

[biiowiired]

Thor had a lot to learn about trolls if he'd liked every one he met. Psii was an asshole, but even he didn't think much of his own species. Most trolls were psychos and killers, enemies as much as friends with each other. Luckily for Thor, Psii called a pacifist his best friend, even if that made him an outlaw.

Oddly, the human didn't continue to flail like Psii thought he would. He seemed weirdly used to unaided flight. Psii smirked back, beaming and resisting the urge to do a somersault.

"Oh, you're a frequent flier?" Psii cranked the speed up a notch to keep them at a safer distance, air irreparably tousling his hair. "How would you like to be my navigator? Where should we go, up perhapth? I can't shuttle you around forever, you know."

Behind them, Psii flung various tables and scientific debris, hoping to clog up doorways to keep the fog mostly at bay. But he didn't forget the reason he'd come down here in the first place, and a few boxes zoomed one at a time into Psii's hands so he could rummage through them for supplies.

B

[honeyibrokeharlem]

Bruce is vigilant, even when it doesn't look like it. At the moment, it looks like he's just playing with the orange gel Bucky and Sif found, but he's paying careful attention to the door of the room the Avengers had set themselves up in.

So he notices when Thor comes in dragging an alien.

"I'm assuming that thing is dead," is the first thing he says as he flicks a piece of scrap metal onto the orange gel, watching it spin out of control and fly against the wall.

[worldsaway]

Thor has come to acknowledge that Bruce is a profoundly practical and useful person to have around an Arena, even if there's the niggling reminder of what returned powers could do to change that.

He opens his mouth to respond, but closes it to watch the scrap spin around as if it were enchanted.

What was he saying? Ah. "Its fate was sealed the moment we crossed paths." That isn't really an answer, but he drags it just a little bit closer and releases it, giving it a nudge with his foot to prove just how dead it is. "I thought it might be of use." He admits with a vague shrug.

[honeyibrokeharlem]

Bruce is a very intelligent and resourceful man. He really is a great partner in the Hunger Games... if there aren't any powers enabled. Unfortunately, he's a bit of a double-edged sword otherwise.

At least the thing is dead. Bruce puts his scrap down (and some of it goes flying from the gel and hits the wall with a clang) before coming closer to look at the thing. "You think we can dissect it or something?" He cocks his head and kneels by the alien, waiting a moment before turning its oblong head to examine its teeth a little closer. "We might be able to milk it for whatever it is that makes its saliva so corrosive. I wonder if the syringes can stand up to it?"

[frozenfractalsallaround]

There's no amount of training that could prepare Elsa for this. No matter how well she's gotten her powers under control, it means nothing now. Seeing Anna die- being unable to do anything to stop it- it's enough to test anyone's ability to stay calm, and Elsa is the last person who could possibly stay calm under these circumstances.

Anna had been ripped away from her- literally- out into space, she'd watched it happen and couldn't do a damn thing about it. She'd stared shocked and hopeless, clinging to something so she herself wouldn't be sucked out into the void as well. She wonder if maybe she could've done something if she had just let go instead of clinging on, but all too late it was over and Anna was gone.

The cling of Elsa's feet against the floor shifts into a crunch as ice forms underneath her feet. She can feel it all welling up inside of her and before she knows it, she's sobbing and stumbling away from where she'd been. When her hands brush against the walls, ice shoots out in every direction, coating it in an increasingly thick layer. The temperature in the surrounding area drops to freezing levels. Elsa is oblivious to much of her surroundings, she doesn't even know where she's trying to go. All she knows is Anna is gone and right now, she's very much alone.

Except, it seems, not for long. As she rounds a corner, she notices someone ahead and her stomach drops. She's aware of her loss of control, and the last thing she wants to do is hurt anyone. "N-no!" she shouts, and in her burst of panic the ice extends further down the hallway ahead of her. "Stay back! Please!" All she wants them to do is turn around, to run- to realize she's a danger so that she doesn't hurt them.

[worldsaway]

Thor's mind is a heavy place right now. There's a heavy burden on his shoulders, one he couldn't share even if he wanted to. He knows there is weight on Carlos as well, but beyond the two of them their secret has been well kept. As such, he spends a good amount of his time alone, when he isn't working on initiating his plan for rebellion. It's better not to get anyone involved, but his heart yearns to be around people more than he can stand.

It's Elsa's sobs that draw him in, ignoring the cold because it does little to hinder him. He was only barely better dressed for Jotunheim and it didn't bother him then either. The temperature change when combined with Elsa's voice, however, is certainly cause for concern.

He's facing the other way when she approaches, spinning around at the sound of her shouting as if prepared to fight whoever would dare distress her. "Lady Elsa." He addresses her firmly and politely, knowing her rank and respecting her beyond that. He doesn't heed her warning, but he reads her well enough that his approach is slow and his hands are outstretched toward her. "Come with me, you will be safe." There's no sign of fear here, no wariness directed at her. He remains a confident and solid figure and he doesn't hesitate whatsoever. There's something about her manner he finds familiar, though not precisely in this moment. It's as if seeing her again is reminding him that she brings about something he hadn't thought of or reflected on for a long time.

[frozenfractalsallaround]

He's so calm, Elsa can't understand why. It's obvious that he's in danger, isn't it? He knows of her powers, he knows of just what she's capable of. So why, then, does he seem not to fear her, when she fears herself so greatly? Just him being there, that's enough to make her even more afraid and distraught.

"No- no, it's you that isn't safe!" she says, her voice quivering and very pointed, like she's saying something that's very obvious. "Don't you see? I can't control it!" As she speaks, the storm that's starting to form picks up a little, snowflakes blowing around them at an increasingly faster rate. "Please, just stay away-" She holds her hands out to try and ward off his oncoming approach, but a jet of ice shoots from her hands without her meaning to, and she gasps in fear as it happens. Everything she's ever feared is happening and the longer this goes on, the less control she has.

A

[actually112]

Aang can feel something wrong with the air before he sees anything. He's been surviving primarily by drawing nutrients from the air, so he tastes it, in a sense. Something wrong.

He's in the midst of trying to figure out what's wrong when someone grabs him.

"Oh!"

Aang is tiny and light, so Thor practically picks him up when he grabs his arm and starts dragging him. Aang would normally be more alarmed by a random man grabbing him, but he remembers Thor from the last arena when he was trying to blow the whole thing up.

"What are we running from?" Aang goes along with the running because there's probably a good reason for it, but spares a glance backwards to see the churning gas, tasting how sour the air is. "Oh. That."

[worldsaway]

From what Thor has surmised about Aang, he's aware that he's competent and skilled for his age. Even if occasionally he will do something like join forces with Tony Stark. None of that particularly matters with the approach of fog, what matters is the fact that Thor refuses to even chance the idea of anyone being put to death in such a miserable way.

"It burns." He warns, keeping his words curt and glancing back hopelessly as he realises the futility of running forward. "We will have to go up." He urges, practically leaping and grabbing half onto the staggered mechanical edges of the wall. He gives Aang a tug, urging him to use him as a ladder without realising he can fly himself.

D

[fiercestwarrior]

Sif imagines she could actually feel him even before she laid eyes on him, like one can sometimes sense an approaching storm before the clouds roll into view. She knows that look on his face, knows the doom that it holds both for him and those who would keep him from doing that which he has decided needs to be done.

Once there may have been a smile on his face to go with that dangerous glint in his eyes. Once he might have been an almost joyous tempest as he descended upon his foes, but not so now.

Now his brow is crowned with dark shadows of grief, longing and regret. Now the sun-prince of their shared youth has grown into a man weary with all that he must do, and all that he (who once thought himself so invincible) cannot change.

Now, though she suspects he would not like to hear her say it, he is a king.

[worldsaway]

As usual, Thor isn't quite as aware of Sif's feelings as she seems to be of him. Not so soon, at least. Perhaps it's because his intentions are far from his mind when he happens upon her. All he acknowledges is the swell of warmth in his heart when he sees her face, a flicker of desire to lean in in and kiss her like there's nothing wrong in the world.

Eventually the severity of her expression dawns on him, making him realise his approach is more obvious than he realised. It's just like her, noticing all he does not, particularly when it comes to himself. He feels a heavy guilt knowing there are things he cannot tell her, that this is a fight where he cannot have her by his side. It is no disrespect to her competency, but there is much he cannot divulge without compromising everything he has put into action. As his shield maiden she would serve him best if she were to be strong when there is a good chance he will no longer be so.

These thoughts cross his mind as he approaches her, but there is nothing he can say. There is, however, much he can and will do. He wastes no time shortening the distance between them, threading his hand around the back of her head and leaning in to kiss her with all the passionate and earnest feelings he cannot express. Anger, determination, love and, though he's loath to admit it, fear.

C

[tevintage]

Dorian does not look well. The arrow wound in his thigh, though hastily bandaged, has him limping down the halls. His cheek is swollen and red, a nasty cut where glass imbedded itself earlier and he hasn't been able to clean it properly.

Also.

He hasn't eaten since he got here.

So when he stumbles into a hallway to find a man sitting on the floor eating something and a) not attacking him, b) not yelling at him and c) not suddenly crackling with magic or bristling with arrows, he actually stops in his tracks.

He could attack quite easily, but--

"Is that- is that food?" Maker, but he is hungry.

[worldsaway]

Thor, luckily, has enough self-awareness to be wary of the man approaching him. He straightens up enough to level a skeptical look on him, but there's nothing about him that has Thor on any level of real alertness.

That, and he does so like to bother his fans in the Capitol by being overwhelmingly congenial.

He offers Dorian a wry smile at the question, casting another glance down at the leg he isn't favouring before shrugging in response to his question. "They call it toothpaste." He lifts the tube so Dorian can see that. "Perhaps it is not, but it's as fine a substitute as any." He furrows his brows as if debating with himself before he finally waves the tube a little higher up in offering. "Eat, be merry." It's hard to say whether he's being sarcastic, but he is.

A

[carnagecarnival]

He feels the fear before anything else, that steady rise of something going the fuck wrong and all others in here with him figuring out what the fuck it is. Or not, in some cases. The problem with that, was that a lot them getting terrortricking of what actually was the right or wrong way to go, leading on for a whole lot of confusion, even with the forewarning, of where exactly to run to.

And then there's Thor, coming along around the corner, the fear of fog coming up behind soaked through him. Perfect. Now he finally has direction.

"AIN'T YOU JUST A HERO PERPETUAL, ALL SHOWING UP IN TIMES MOTHERFUCKING RIGHTLY, ALWAYS!" He greets with a grin, immediately turning to run alongside.

[worldsaway]

It's pretty hard to miss Initiate, even without his proper horns. Everything else about him is strongly familiar and that's enough for Thor to want to help him. They may not be the closes of friends, but Initiate has won his respect enough to have his assistance in times of need.

"Perhaps you are in perpetual need." He calls to his side with a grin to match Initiate's. He has no idea his fear is being sensed, but his concern is less for himself and more for everyone else. He doesn't want to hear them scream in pain and suffer and he's determined to prevent that, even if he's trying to joke around.

b

[cognitived]

The sound of heavy footfalls, and the bump-slide of a body being dragged catches Clint's ears and has him on edge. Who knows who's still out here? Or rather, what's out here? He's had a run in with a xenomorph already, and honestly it's almost a bit familiar after that deal with the Chitauri, but nothing can compare to the the sheer breadth of the Chitauri invasion.

For now, Clint's wary, stepping lightly as he stays out of sight. But it's Thor, and that's, well, honestly a bit of a relief. Aside from Natasha, Thor's the guy Clint knows the most here. Which is, kind of odd given they've probably talked all of twice. But Clint remembers the sight set upon that blond head, and the steady growing like for whoever had the balls to come gunning into a SHIELD faculty and send trained agents falling this way or that.

So he steps out of his hiding spot, footfalls heavier than usual to herald him. Quietly still, but familiar, he speaks up.

"You planning to keep that?"

[worldsaway]

To Thor's knowledge, he's met Clint once. He hadn't been aware of him when he'd made his way into the SHIELD camp, all he'd been thinking about was his hammer. When they met for what Thor understands as the first time, he'd felt powerful guilt for what he'd suffered through. The havoc Loki had wrought on Midgard would never truly be Thor's fault, but he is incapable of stopping himself from thinking of everything he could have done to spare it from suffering.

But he can be proud of everything he did to protect it, and he can take some pleasure in knowing that it allied him with the finest warriors Midgard had to offer. He's come to know some of them far better than he imagined he would, but a few have escaped his reach so far. He takes no pleasure in knowing more of them have come to be here, but it gives him hope that they may realign and rise above the dictators of Panem.

For now, he's just a guy dragging an alien through a space station. He looks briefly taken aback when Clint steps out suddenly, but he calms himself when the recognition kicks in.

"Legolas." He nods, remembering that as his name. "I do intend to." He has many intentions with it.