[There is a blonde man standing on the platform in the rain. He does not seem to mind it; it's possible he doesn't even notice it. He rests his large warhammer on the ground, leaning on the handle.
The train doors close and it pulls away, leaving him staring, scowling, at the city. The thunder rolls softly above and the man speaks a few words under his breath (no doubt some kind of impreciation against the mother of whoever is behind all this).
Thor hefts the hammer up over his shoulder and makes his way into the city.]
1-3 YOU NEEDED AN UNWORTHY THOR, RIGHT
The train doors close and it pulls away, leaving him staring, scowling, at the city. The thunder rolls softly above and the man speaks a few words under his breath (no doubt some kind of impreciation against the mother of whoever is behind all this).
Thor hefts the hammer up over his shoulder and makes his way into the city.]
[ooc: unworthy Thor]