[open] My fickle fortune beckoned.

[worldsaway]

who: Thor and OPEN
what: During the amnesia event, Thor reverts back to the spoiled, impulsive, war-mongering asshole formerly known as Prince (of Asgard). I'm taking him mentally from just before his attack on Jotunheim.
when: Start of Amnesia Week.
where: Around town!
warnings: Nothing particularly bad going on here.


Floor 8:
Thor awakens with a start, as if he had been doused with ice cold water. The room he shares is empty, save for himself, but it's entirely unfamiliar. It lacks the decadent architecture, the furs, the stone and wood and the familiar smells. It doesn't take Thor long to realise he's been either been abducted or he's fallen prey to some form of sinister trickery. The real mystery is how someone was able to subdue someone as powerful as him with ease.

Thor is quickly reaching maximum levels of anger, he throws himself out of bed and takes absolutely no care in the fact that he's shirtless with a pair of pajama pants on. His manner of dress is irrelevant, but his hammer being on his bedside is a small comfort.

With his hammer in one hand, his other hand is free to accost anyone he happens to run into outside of the bedroom. He'll be grabbing people by the shirt collar and ramming them against walls if he runs into them in here.

"Tell me where I am!" He barks. "How did you bring me here?"

Wandering the Streets:
For some time, Thor wanders shirtless, in his pajama pants. He soon comes to terms with the fact that he's under dressed and thus, thrusts his hammer up into the air to semi-dramatically summon the quintessential cape and armor onto himself.

Nothing to see here.

He'll continue to walk around, and it's clear that he has no idea where he is. He's peering around, staring into storefronts and getting intimately close to shop windows. He walks in the middle of the road, he glowers at strangers and he'll get ballsy enough to take food off people's plates as he passes through.

Every so often, he'll decide someone knows something. He has no reason to believe they're privy to any more secrets than he is, but he doesn't like the look of them. He'll be intimidating, he'll get up into people's personal bubbles and block their paths.

"Are you held captive here as well?" Answer carefully.

The Bar:
After burning a considerable amount of energy on being angry, Thor mellows out enough to enjoy a drink at the local tavern. He asks for their largest ale, and he isn't terribly disappointed in the size. The liquor itself is weak and he downs it, smashing the glass to the ground before he orders another, loudly. After a few of those, he's a little closer to feeling agreeable. He may even feel a little merry.

He soon realises eyes are on him, perhaps partly because he just smashed a glass and partly because he's a giant, blond man in armor and a cape.

"I'll have another. Everyone will have another, its on me."

Comments

[ wandering ]

[dothelokimotion]

[ . . . Loki longingly considers just leaving Thor running around shirtless. Or taking some videos for potential blackmail purposes later. But something about Thor's manner of speech and attitude brings back nostalgic memories. So he steps out of the shadows with a faint murmur. ]

It has been a while since I've seen you use the brute strength approach, brother.

wandering

[hevenly]

Not having been affected herself, Angela has no idea there is anything amiss in the quarantine. That is, until she sees the Odinson blustering about in his full armor. Dressed casually herself, albeit with the ever present magical floating ribbons around her neck, Angela approaches him to stop him from accosting a poor unsuspecting stranger.

"Stop, Brother. You know we are."

Wandering awww yeah

[500gallontank]

"The fuck!" Excuse you, Frankenstein was eating that doughnut, you jerk. Full of fat, calories, chemicals and not a single damn thing that could be considered 'nutrition', it tasted almost like food in the UCA. Only with, you know, actual flavor.

Do not separate a man from his breakfast pastry, stranger. It will not end well.

The Bar

[fingergunning]

It's his first night here, Jensen still trying to wrap his head around this being real and not some kind of hallucination or fever dream. He'd had a pretty vivid set of those before when he'd gotten malaria. But this had that edge of real to it that made it hard to dismiss as anything else. He had a bruise forming on the inside of his upper arm from the constant pinches -- just to be sure.

But he'd been given money and a place to stay and told he could do as he pleased. He'd even been given a position with some guard station or something. He'd muse over that later. What he needed now was familiar. And familiar, for Jake Jensen, was somewhere to drink and listen to people talking. He'd been all over the world and in every part of it, there were always buildings that served alcohol where people went and drank and let off steam. Seems that alternate reality or not, this place was the same.

He'd just slid into a stool at the bar when he heard the sound of a glass smashing on the ground. That generally indicated a fight, and he turned, ready to either duck out of the way or jump in, depending on who was involved. When he saw a blonde giant of a man looking pleased with shards lingering around his feet and no one unconscious or bleeding nearby him, he relaxed a bit. Well, a little bit. The guy was wearing freakin' armor. What was he, some kind of medieval knight? Weirdo.

Maybe a rich weirdo. "You sure about that? I mean, this isn't exactly Brazil, buddy. Beer's a bit more pricey here."

wandering

[toopolite]

Sif had been going to get a bite to eat from one of the vendors, and has since wandered back towards the area that she has been given to reside. By her own accord, it seems much the same as any other day, although she might change that opinion shortly.

Finishing the last of her sandwich, she has thrown the wrapper in to the nearest garbage, when a small commotion catches her attention. Her eyes shift in that direction, to stop, watching as a familiar form is towering over an individual.

"Thor!" Her own voice calls out, a furrow on her forehead, as she changes her path to intercept his own. "What ails you today?"

[worldsaway]

It's a power play, really. Thor doesn't even know what the doughnut is, he's giving it a critical sniff as he walks, and it's by far one of the most absurd foods he's ever seen. He just took it because he's confused, grumpy and wants to assert dominance in a situation he has no control over.

Thor turns when Frankenstein yells, still walking backward away from him as if he's perfectly casual and this is not to be unexpected. "Your sacrifice will be remembered for years to come." He calls out, taking a bite of the doughnut almost pointedly. Spitefully.

[worldsaway]

Thor seems to take offence to Angela's interference, it could almost escalate the situation, but he hesitates when he soaks in everything she's saying. His expression goes from annoyance to confusion in an instant, and he steps back.

"I do not know where I am." He says firmly, with a shake of his head. "And I have no sister."

[worldsaway]

[Thor just barely startles when Loki steps out of the shadows. He's so used to it by now, it's ingrained in him to anticipate it, but he's still surprised to see him here.]

Then it has been a long day for us both. [Last he remembers, they were heading for Jotunheim together. He hadn't started pushing people around just yet, but the implication is suspicious.]

How did they capture us? How did we come to be here?

Floor 8

[ragnarsson]

This is just not the Viking's day. First, he wakes up forgetting both how to use his weapons and the names of everyone around him. Now, minding his own business while he checks up on those who seems to be far worse off than him, he's yanked right out of his wheelchair, and slammed against the wall, legs dangling uselessly beneath him as Thor holds him at eye-level.

He knows Thor, another of his gods like Loki is, but he'll be damned if he can remember his name either. Ivar doesn't try to break Thor's grip. He might as well try to escape the grasp of a grizzly bear. There's no fear in his eyes, only a little wariness, his heart pounding from the adrenaline. How much memory has Thor lost?

"It was not me that brought you here, my god. This place summons people from all times and places with no rhyme or reason." He taps Thor's hand, trying to get him to lower him back down. "I take it you don't remember me?"

[worldsaway]

Were this days or merely hours earlier, Thor would have instantly recognised this man as Steve Rogers. Albeit, with some interesting changes to his visage, Thor isn't here to judge. Currently, Thor remembers nothing of the Avengers or Midgard (beyond some short field trips to wow the people).

He's out of his element, for the most part, but he feels almost at home here on his stool.

"Am I sure?" He scoffs. "Thor Odinson does not make promises he can't keep." But it seems like this guy doesn't know who he is, which is strange, but he's willing to educate him. "I am a Prince. A few drinks will not ruin me."

[dothelokimotion]

[ Well now. That tells him enough of what he needs to know. Loki barely represses a shiver of delight. This was his brother. Sadly, no doubt the Avengers and Thor's parade of fans will quickly ruin that for him. Loki will have to enjoy this while it lasts. ]

It was not so much as a "capture" than a wrong turn at a portal that chooses not to let us return. I'm afraid you're stuck here for now, Thor.

[fingergunning]

"Thor Odinson. Right..." He was tempted to roll his eyes at the guy, but hey, what did he know? Maybe whatever backwater this guy came from had a custom of naming their kids after storybook characters. Who was he to judge? "Bit more than a few, though. I mean, that guy over there's already chugged down four." Yeah, buddy, he was looking at you in the corner. Mister Beer Chugger.

He also would have no idea who Steve Rogers was and wouldn't see any resemblance himself. Maybe Thor needed glasses. Or a haircut.

[worldsaway]

Thor does not anticipate such an interception, but he rears back when Sif enters his line of vision. It's always good to take a healthy step back, lest you invoke her wrath in some manner.

Her concern is confusing, because she doesn't seem to be worried at all. She's obviously trapped too, but she's acting as if he's being irrational (which isn't weird in itself, but now it is).

"What ails me?" He scoffs, voice and expression baffled by her attitude. "Are you not ailed by being trapped here, Sif? You act as if we ought to be here."

[worldsaway]

"It is a trying time and I am nothing if not generous in times of need." He looks absolutely smug about that, too. Then he's drinking. He's drinking a lot. "If this realm wishes to ensnare guests from worlds they have no comprehension of, then perhaps they can do the polite thing and supply free-flowing ale."

But this guy seems awfully calm, so maybe Thor should be suspicious.

"You seem acclimated to it already. Have they held you here long? Do you revel in it?" He sounds accusatory.

[fingergunning]

"Just got here today, actually. Still wondering if this isn't some weird peyote trip Cougar's putting me on, but it's starting to sink in this might be real. In which case, better to learn the ins and outs than just sit and deny it, right?" Practical wasn't something most people would put in Jake's attributes, but it was there. He just usually left that to others to deal with. On his own, he had to manage all by himself. And that meant putting on his big boy pants.

[toopolite]

While she has not chosen to come to this place, she has learned since her arrival that returning home is not so easy. Her eyes do search his, concern building, as he is not as he was when last they met.

"It is not the question of ought we to be here." Because that certainly would be a no. Where she ought to be is back in Asgard, preparing, as she has a feeling that something looms. "But here we are for the time being."

[worldsaway]

How can you accept it so easily? [His tone is chiding, expression disappointed and irritated. He furrows his brows.]

Heimdall will bring us home. If not him, then father, surely. Or we will fight our way out and return home, why would we accept a fate like this so readily?

[worldsaway]

Since Thor has no earthly idea what a wheelchair is, it doesn't hinder his approach. Particularly since he just happened to assume Ivar is the source of all his problems, just because he happens to be the first person he saw.

Ivar's reasoning befuddles him further, but being referred to as a god certainly helps to soothe his fury for the moment. He lets Ivar drop back down into his chair, there's no care or attentiveness in the action.

"I've no idea who you are." His voice is cold. "Tell me where I am. Tell me why I should remember you."

[worldsaway]

"I'd sooner force my way out than accept this place as my home." He's making himself frustrated again, though. He's forgotten all of the friendly explanations about where he is, all the friendship and freedom and sense of purpose he got from this place is invisible to him right now.

"No matter. No sense talking about it now." He says, gruffly. "Where you hail from?"

[worldsaway]

There is absolutely nothing about this conversation that Thor finds to be acceptable. Sif's answers are strange, her attitude is strange, he cannot understand why she seems so at ease when she's never shied away from a fight or allowed herself to be compromised like this.

"How long have you been here?" He says, after a considerable pause.

[ragnarsson]

After dealing with Loki, he's gratified to see that Thor at least seems to know who he is. At least he doesn't have to go through that process again. He gets plopped back down with such a jolt that he's worried he's broken a bone in one of his legs for a moment. "...Ow," Ivar says grumpily. Hmph. Jerk.

He checks his legs over for fractures or breaks as he answers. "This place is called the Riverview Quarantine. It is a city on a moon, far away from Midgard or Asgard." The right one seems to be fine, so he moves onto the left. He's going to have a very large bruise thanks to this manhandling. "My name is Ivar Ragnarsson. My father was a son of Odin. You've known me for months." He's hiding it well, but he is rather disappointed Thor doesn't remember him.

[dothelokimotion]

[ It is very hard not to laugh. Loki suppresses the chuckle, though there's a telling glint in his eyes. ]

As always, brother, you have the right of it. Where should we start?

[fingergunning]

"Home's where the heart is, right?" He shrugged with one shoulder, not really feeling that particular need to set down roots that some had. He'd always been a bit nomadic. It's why he did so well on long-range ops. The only thing that ever drew him back home was the need to make sure his niece was okay. Other than that? He liked seeing the world.

But this guy, this weird, armor wearing guy who sounded like he'd stepped out of a bad movie, had Jensen laughing. "Earth. United States, for the most part, but I've been around. What about you? Where do you... hail from?"

Snicker.

[toopolite]

There is a stillness that settles over her with his question, an alertness that speaks of a warrior's prowess. That Sif is looking at him oddly is obvious, as Thor knows well enough just how long she has been here. He had run in to her shortly after her arrival, and knows the answer to that.

So, the question is, what is going on? Is it Thor, or is it an imposter? Has something happened to him, and if so, what? Had he left to return? Sif hasn't thought to ask about that from anyone, but could that be the case, and if so, do people not recall their stay here? Her sword fingers give a little twitch at her side, and her own question is given in return. "What is the last thing you recall, Thor?"

[hevenly]

He should count himself lucky that her weapons are back at her and Loki's apartment. Granted, she is still just as deadly without them, but not against her own brother, who seems to have forgotten some crucial information.

"Not in your universe, no. But we are at a meeting of worlds. Do you truly not remember the quarantine?"