June 14, 2018:

Thor is summoned.


NPCs: Samuel Jacobson (Doorman)



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…


Samuel Jacobson, doorman extraordinaire, has seen things over his years. Wealthy tenants fighting in the lobby. Married men with women a fourth of their age. Once, he swears, he saw the Batman sitting on a ledge across the street eating McDonalds. There was a time when he would tell people that he had ‘seen it all’; Then the God of Thunder moved into the building.

“Afternoon, Thor,” Samuel calls out as the elevator doors open to permit one Prince of Asgard into the lobby, “Some of New York’s finest were here looking for you. They had something for you to sign but I told them that I thought you were fighting giants and that you wouldn’t be back until later and so they let me take it for you.”

“Samuel,” Thor says in a friendly greeting to the other brow creasing as the man goes on, “Hrm,” Odinson gives a low thoughtful sound, “I thank you, Samuel, but you could have summoned me. I would not wish to offend fine ladies nor deny them my autograph,” he makes a gesture as if writing in the air, “they may have endured a long and perilous journey.” Thor rubs his chin, “Amusing, that your signature sufficed,” and then he slugs the doorman lightly in the shoulder, grinning.

“Fine ladi—,” Sam hesitates and goes ‘ah’ and chuckles, “/New York’s finest/,” repeating the phrase, “No. The police. They had papers for you.” Reaching behind the counter then he produces a manila envelope that he hands over.

The Thunderer’s brow furrows as he works the tiny brass clasps and pulls out a stack of papers, “Summons,” Thor says, looking to Samuel and lifting his brow in self-amusement, “it seems I have been invited to a party.” For several moments Thor reads, lips moving as he whispers the words. Then his face slowly darkens as he flips to the next page. Then back to the first, reading the end of it again, and then on to the next.

Outside bright streets begin to darken. A crescendo of thunder. Sam shifts uncomfortably.

Thor looks upward slowly then his blue-eyes clouded by a storm of brewing rage, “Samuel, Son of Jacob, /what/ is the /meaning of this/?” He thrusts the papers outward and the doorman takes them and begins to read. Outside lightning flashes and it begins to rain. Beyond the glass doors people are running in every direction as wind whips furiously through the streets; none were prepared for the sudden storm summer has brought them.

“It’s,” Sam says tentatively, “about your goats. They want you to appear in court.”

“I say to thee, Nay!” Thor bellows in response, “Officer Harold Lowenstein stated that I had been given one more chance. He shall answer for this /betrayal/.” His jaw sets, “I /shall appear/ and they /shall regret this/.” He exhales slowly, voice full of menace, “Tell me, Samuel, Son of Jacob, with what weapon does one fight when summoned?”

“An Attorney.”

“Very well,” Thor intones, “Then tell me where I might find ‘an attorney’ so that I might drive it into Harold Lowenstein over and over until he admits his betrayal."

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