[ it's easy to get lost in the streets of new york. much like the old streets of asgard, the winding halls of the palace — there are no golden spires in what humans call the big apple (and thor still has yet to understand how the city resembles an apple), but the buildings tower as close to the sky as humans can imagine, and it almost feels like home, in one way or another, even with the strange sort of fame that comes from being a god and an avenger. it isn't the attention he seeks, though; or, at least, it's a different kind of attention than that which his people want from him. they need him to solve their problems. here, the humans just want to take photos as evidence that they've met the mighty thor. ]
[ he doesn't always do it on purpose, let the streets lead him from one place to the next with no real destination, but today he just needs to get away from it all for even a moment, just to have time to breathe. his people will understand, surely. after all they've lost, they all need time to ... adjust. to settle. to rebuild, physically and emotionally. asgard isn't a place, but its people do need a place, to live and carry on. and they have, so far, in a rural place called oklahoma, thanks in part to the efforts of tony stark. but even in a city bustling with people rebuilding their lives, there comes a time when the quiet seeps in like a cold wind, a reminder that there are fewer of them now, and that nothing will ever be the same. ]
[ new york is louder. full of horns blaring and the scuffle of hundreds of feet on pavement, flashing lights and billboards that advertise products, shows, stores thor has never heard of. it reminds him of how little time he's spent on midgard, how little he knows of its people. he will never be one of them — and on most occasions, his attempts to blend in with them are futile, given who he is and how recognizable he is with or without the cape, even with the significant changes to his appearance — but he can learn to appreciate them more, these people who look at him and see the thing they could only hope to be. (it surprises him still how powerful the human conviction can be, how they are willing to risk everything for the things they believe in.) ]
[ even without mjolnir, or the bifrost, getting to the city isn't hard. stephen strange offered him a bit of portal magic in return for his word that he would keep a watchful eye on his brother, and that if he ever needed assistance, the portal would take him to and from new york. he hasn't once used it for the purpose of seeking out strange's help, but it makes these bouts to the city more convenient than they would have been otherwise. ]
[ the people often blur together after some time, but something familiar prickles his skin as he makes his way down the street, dressed to match the locals in their business attire, as if he's off to meet someone important for lunch. he has no one to meet, and nowhere to go to, and yet he feels as if he is headed toward someone, or something, no longer aimlessly wandering the streets in search of something he won't find. there's a pull in his chest, almost like home is calling to him. ]
[ then he sees her. she doesn't look different, not as drastically as he does. she's exactly as he remembers her, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, her presence intimidating the very air around her. he can't believe it. for a moment, he doesn't. the lady sif, here. in new york. it seems … too good to be true. and yet his heart swells and he finds himself rushing forward, calling her name, with a smile as broad as his shoulders. ]
Lady Sif! [ there's joy underneath the relief of seeing her, alive, but it barely masks the apprehension of the thought of explaining what's happened — why he looks like this, why he's here and not avenging, what's become of asgard. still, he won't let a reunion like this go to waste. he claps his hands on her shoulders amiably, looking her over as if to convince himself it's really her. ] It's good to see you. [ a beat. loki had said something about banishment, but he hadn't specified where, and until now thor hadn't had time to consider asking. besides, knowing sif, she wouldn't have simply sat around. he suspects this whole time she's been trying to find a way back to asgard. nevertheless, ] What are you doing on Midgard?
vomits words
[ he doesn't always do it on purpose, let the streets lead him from one place to the next with no real destination, but today he just needs to get away from it all for even a moment, just to have time to breathe. his people will understand, surely. after all they've lost, they all need time to ... adjust. to settle. to rebuild, physically and emotionally. asgard isn't a place, but its people do need a place, to live and carry on. and they have, so far, in a rural place called oklahoma, thanks in part to the efforts of tony stark. but even in a city bustling with people rebuilding their lives, there comes a time when the quiet seeps in like a cold wind, a reminder that there are fewer of them now, and that nothing will ever be the same. ]
[ new york is louder. full of horns blaring and the scuffle of hundreds of feet on pavement, flashing lights and billboards that advertise products, shows, stores thor has never heard of. it reminds him of how little time he's spent on midgard, how little he knows of its people. he will never be one of them — and on most occasions, his attempts to blend in with them are futile, given who he is and how recognizable he is with or without the cape, even with the significant changes to his appearance — but he can learn to appreciate them more, these people who look at him and see the thing they could only hope to be. (it surprises him still how powerful the human conviction can be, how they are willing to risk everything for the things they believe in.) ]
[ even without mjolnir, or the bifrost, getting to the city isn't hard. stephen strange offered him a bit of portal magic in return for his word that he would keep a watchful eye on his brother, and that if he ever needed assistance, the portal would take him to and from new york. he hasn't once used it for the purpose of seeking out strange's help, but it makes these bouts to the city more convenient than they would have been otherwise. ]
[ the people often blur together after some time, but something familiar prickles his skin as he makes his way down the street, dressed to match the locals in their business attire, as if he's off to meet someone important for lunch. he has no one to meet, and nowhere to go to, and yet he feels as if he is headed toward someone, or something, no longer aimlessly wandering the streets in search of something he won't find. there's a pull in his chest, almost like home is calling to him. ]
[ then he sees her. she doesn't look different, not as drastically as he does. she's exactly as he remembers her, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, her presence intimidating the very air around her. he can't believe it. for a moment, he doesn't. the lady sif, here. in new york. it seems … too good to be true. and yet his heart swells and he finds himself rushing forward, calling her name, with a smile as broad as his shoulders. ]
Lady Sif! [ there's joy underneath the relief of seeing her, alive, but it barely masks the apprehension of the thought of explaining what's happened — why he looks like this, why he's here and not avenging, what's become of asgard. still, he won't let a reunion like this go to waste. he claps his hands on her shoulders amiably, looking her over as if to convince himself it's really her. ] It's good to see you. [ a beat. loki had said something about banishment, but he hadn't specified where, and until now thor hadn't had time to consider asking. besides, knowing sif, she wouldn't have simply sat around. he suspects this whole time she's been trying to find a way back to asgard. nevertheless, ] What are you doing on Midgard?