[Thor's on his way home from the construction site, pleasantly sore after a hard day's work and actually sort of looking forward to making it home - while the strange woman now inhabiting his house doesn't make casseroles like the drone woman did, it'll still be good to kick back with the last of the leftover mead, maybe turn on the strange talking box for a few minutes...
He doesn't see Jormungandr, lost as he is in thoughts of 1950s radio dramas and casserole. This is probably for the best - seeing his archnemesis ripping trees out of the ground probably would not sit terribly well with him.]
no subject
He doesn't see Jormungandr, lost as he is in thoughts of 1950s radio dramas and casserole. This is probably for the best - seeing his archnemesis ripping trees out of the ground probably would not sit terribly well with him.]