#opening thread

{ Pride Ball event !!}

{ read more for long post }

The universe was a very different place for Thor now that he was no longer anxious to take over for his Father as the King in Asgard. He admired the Allfather for his strength, but now he realized it wasn’t his destiny to follow in those steps. He’d learned in his own time on Midgard and through his time spent alongside the Avengers that a lifetime of protecting and serving not only Asgard, but all the Nine Realms is what he was meant to do. It was what he wanted to do. 

That being said, it was a life that took adjusting to. It wasn’t the act of protecting, no. Thor had a warrior’s heart. He’d always loved the thrill of battle, the satisfaction of winning, the fulfillment of knowing he’d saved the day. That was no concern of his. But it was new, knowing he would not one day rule. Knowing that this was his course now. 

In some ways it was certainly less lonely. There would only be one King in Asgard’s Halls. But out in the universe? He had comrades. Brothers and sisters in arms. He valued Lady Sif and the Warriors Three just as he valued the Avengers. The bonds he’d forged alongside each of them in battle meant a great deal to Thor. 

That was what brought him back to Midgard, right in New York seeking out those he called friends and allies. For all he was not home in Asgard, things were off in the golden realm. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was amiss. There were whispers in the stars. Rumors, though nothing concrete. Still, narrow as the universal view of his friends was here on Midgard, he trusted few others to help him fully understand. 

And Thor was determined to do just that - to understand and to fix. And there was little that was going to stop him. Well, perhaps the security guard at the door might stop him. 

Thor frowned, looking down at the uniformed man at his desk. He did not wear his full battle armor - that was unnecessary. He’d donned regular attire for Midgardians so he wouldn’t stick out - jeans, a hooded sweat shirt, his hair in a ponytail. Perhaps he fit in so well he was not recognizable.

In frustration he held up his hammer to the security guard. “Look, friend, I see you have this task at hand and you do it well, but I am who I say I am.” He insisted. “I am Thor, Odin’s son and protector of Midgard. I require entry. Immediately.”