1963-10-31 - Trick-or-Thor!
Summary: As a cultural attache, Scarlett takes Thor trick-or-treating. Who cares if he's 3,008.
Related: N/A
Theme Song: He Has A Story To Tell - Alan Silvestri
rogue thor 

Mortals! The more Thor sees them and lives amongst them, after a fashion, the more they confuse him and delight him all at the same time! The sun yet shines on this day, All Hallows Eve that those here refer to as Hallowe'en, and the stories of parties, of this thing called 'trick or treat' intrigues the Thunderer. They'd had their blot for the harvests, and now here? (Not to mention, the risk is high for the little ghouls and goblins to come knocking on their door!)

So, when confused, what can an Asgardian do?

Ask one of the denizens of Midgard, that's what.

Showing up on the doorstep of the apartment that he knows belongs to Scarlett, he asks, entreats and out and out threatens to partake in this particular blot with full abandon if she does not tell him what it is that this United States celebrates and how… The why? Well… seems pretty evident.

So, a walk down the city's streets are in order, conversation in full swing, not to mention LARGE pumpkin-shaped cookies from a local baker.

"Now, tell me. Is this simply for children… because I have seen others partaking in the festivities on the light box."


As the resident mortal about the Asgardian court, Scarlett has 'cultural translator' attached to her impressive list of responsibilities. At least those above and beyond Girl Loki-day. That the Prince of Asgard alights upon her doorstep rather than her rooftop garden affords him an opportunity to partake of the interior, for once, a place as luminous as it is verdant; plants grow inside, among the many photographs and skillful portraits. More importantly, it smells divine, as the liberal use of chocolate, buttercream, nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, and other autumnal spices often will. Someone has been baking excessively, and Thor has petits-fours in a box to supplement those pumpkin cookies.

"The holiday here children celebrate by donning costumes, especially witches or ghosts or monsters, and going house to house for candy," she explains. How else is a redhead going to dress up on the occasion other than with a red cloak? That the big bad wolf is father and son to a friend is inconsequential; her basket contains as many cookies as he.

Smiling at the children who go by, she offers the odd victual to them. "Sometimes apples. We never much want apples, though the ones dipped in caramel are very good." The quirk of a smile follows. "The celebrations came over with the immigrants from Scotland, Ireland, and Germany. Each country brought its own traditions, of course, many steeped in darkness. Lanterns to chase off the unquiet spirits, old memories of witchcraft, these were replaces by an excuse to have a party. 'Tis not a religious event, either, which makes it far more fun."

Pointing to a few of the spooks in bedsheets that are head and shoulders above the rest, she says, "The adults do come out. Parents escort their children, or join parties later in the night. A good excuse to drink, and drink quite a bit, while wearing party clothes or costumes. A mask can be enough. I spent last year drinking everyone else under the table, and winning a crown."


Thor turns around as they pass a clump of dressed.. clowns, princesses.. and walks backwards for a few full steps before he turns rightways again. "The parties for this blot includes drinking," he begins, "And feasting?" Isn't that the way of a proper celebration?

"Tradition from their lands.." Thor considers before, "Do they take any part of this from us?" He's looking for some commonality, some familiarity.

Passing store after store, the Thunderer pauses in front of one. "A costume. I desire one. Tell me, Lady Scarlett, which do you think I should acquire? A ghost, perhaps?"


Several waving Romans are on one side of the street, wooden swords in the air. They harass another of the witches, and a very glum looking banana. Clearly that little boy didn't want to be a banana, but his sister, a purple cluster of grapes, scolds the soldiers. "I'm not afraid of you!"

"You may safely assume nigh all the holidays, except Easter, involve a healthy amount of drinking. Cider is the norm, or spiced wine and cocktails mixing different liqueurs." Scarlett chuckles at the golden-haired god turning around to absorb the gaggle of young things. "Feasting? The children gorge themselves upon candy, for the most part. Woe to any parent hopeful they will eat a square meal! Shan't happen, they will devour cookies and trade the best candy from their siblings and friends. There will be quite a number of fights and bruises for refusing to hand over a Mars bar."

The bohemian may forget a great deal, but never what chocolate is king. "They take quite a bit from the northern lands. The harvest festival where we do nothing but feast is Thanksgiving, celebrated in another month. Though there are many tricks to be played, and frightening off bad luck or ephemeral powers with shows of bravery. They also tell stories endlessly, adults and children, about the most frightening things. You cannot tell me you do not have those tale-tellings at every blot." She knows better, the brilliant grin proof of it. But then Thor mentions a costume.

She pauses, mischief written all over her features. "You ought to, though something creative may be a challenge this late. We could manage. I doubt you would welcome me dressing you up as a Roman or Greek god; another good use for a sheet. However, I can think of many ideas. What are you interested in? And if you should see a young boy about seven who looks like you about Greenwich Village, be not alarmed. He confided he thought he saw you. I may have given his mother a few ideas." There is a tiny Thor Odinson trick-or-treating; yes indeed.


The Roman 'occupation' does indeed make Thor chuckle as he watches the swordplay. It's as vigorous as any sparring arena Thor's ever seen, as a child that is. He looks as if he'll be crossing the distance in order to teach one or two of them the proper way to hold the blade, but the banana and grapes gain his attention. Another laugh sounds as he catches the tales of chocolate and candy and the lack of dinner in preference to those.

"Tricks then?" Thor looks to Rogue once again, and there's a look that comes to his face as if that is a grand new idea that has just been added to the mix. "Stories, aye. I have a multitude of them… but tricks." A laugh sounds in anticipation, and he looks to Rogue, his voice lowering, "Do not tell Loki of this." In other words, the first prank he'll play will probably be on that particular younger brother. "I hold you to secrecy." Thus declared, his thoughts turn to the various different things that could be done.

"Bah.. Roman and Greek gods." Yes, he scoffs. Brows do rise, however, as he looks to his companion once more, and he looks… pleased. "A young lad dressed as me?" Awww! "I will find him and give him my aid." That's the plan, then, for Halloween!


Children, especially boys over eight, do engage roughly with one another, but it's all swords down when the grape girl wades into the fight. She breaks up some of the violence inherent in the system by a scolding finger. Parents indulge what they may, otherwise guarded when it comes to the fun of the little ones. Tots in particular follow a plethora of mindful chaperones who walk alongside them, and a parade of bumblebees, Indians, sheep, fat little peapods, and baseball players (or in one case, a baseball) wobble by.

Any vampire or random cultist showing up here would be torn limb from limb by angry New Yorkers. Scarlett, though, kneels to offer a few witches their choice of cookies in her basket, and she nods to Thor, as one of them looks up her crooked plastic nose very hopefully at his big cookie. Shining eyes speak with hope. Then all her coven look up. "Trick-er-tr't!" they crow in chorus, and the redhead in riding hood inclines her head. "My lord? You've been petitioned."

She does, however, almost joyously straightens, and bobs her head in agreement. "Naturally, any tricks ought to be your privilege. The only rules tend to be they cannot break things or balance upon vandalism. However, beyond that, sky is the limit. You have me at your leisure, yes? As to costumes, I tend to prefer clever ones, though anything executed well is worth it. You see the fruit together? A good example, when they are together. Did you see the father in the coffee can back by the shoe store, and his children are the cup and the bag of beans? Though these are a bit… plain, I think, for you."


Is that what he's to do with his cookies? Thor looks surprised and the first words out of his mouth are, "They're mine." Though once he catches the looks upon the childrens' faces, and the stage-whisper from Scarlett, he exhales in a theatric sigh and begins to pass out his extra-large pumpkin cookies. "There you go.. eat not the cookie until your parents allow it." Uh huh.. like that'll happen? At least he's trying!

Once handed out, Thor looks to Scarlett once again, "Should I have given them a 'trick' as well? I am not the caster my brother is, and I fear that I have few tricks." Okay.. maybe he doesn't see the whole 'thunder' and 'clouds' thing as a trick?

"Costumes, then.. and I shall have Heimdall find me the child that dresses like me. We shall find him.. and perhaps I shall dress as.." Hrm… "I will ask the young man." That actually sounds as if he's settled on something. Who knows what lurks in a small child's mind when it comes to Halloween? And if the lad is dressing as Thor, there is a simple pleasure in discovering what, in turn, Thor could do to make the kid's holiday a little more special. "Then, we shall find parties to attend."

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