You Know You've Got Everybody Fooled
WHO: Iorek and Loki
WHERE: The middle of Central Park.
WHEN: An hour after this
WARNINGS: N/A, so far as I can tell.
SUMMARY: A bear who can't be lied to and a trickster god making a deal for a sword. Hoooo boy.
FORMAT: Paragraph
Iorek didn't trust the woman-- though something told him that whatever it was, it wasn't really a woman, or even a human, either that those were lies, too-- but the fact was, he didn't need to trust it completely to make it a weapon; he only needed to trust it not to do anything that would bring harm to Lyra. So far, its interests seemed to be elsewhere, likely in its homeworld, and thus in escaping this place. For now, that was enough. Besides, it had been too long since he had gone to the forge with purpose, to create something he knew would be put to use, and nothing was more offensive to a master smith such as him than to see the tools he forged left to rust.
And so he stood, watchful, near the center of the park, seeming a tall male human in his late thirties with silver hair. He was dressed lightly, despite the chill of autumn, unbothered by the cold, nor particularly impatient. If whatever it was wanted a serviceable blade, it would come.
WHERE: The middle of Central Park.
WHEN: An hour after this
WARNINGS: N/A, so far as I can tell.
SUMMARY: A bear who can't be lied to and a trickster god making a deal for a sword. Hoooo boy.
FORMAT: Paragraph
Iorek didn't trust the woman-- though something told him that whatever it was, it wasn't really a woman, or even a human, either that those were lies, too-- but the fact was, he didn't need to trust it completely to make it a weapon; he only needed to trust it not to do anything that would bring harm to Lyra. So far, its interests seemed to be elsewhere, likely in its homeworld, and thus in escaping this place. For now, that was enough. Besides, it had been too long since he had gone to the forge with purpose, to create something he knew would be put to use, and nothing was more offensive to a master smith such as him than to see the tools he forged left to rust.
And so he stood, watchful, near the center of the park, seeming a tall male human in his late thirties with silver hair. He was dressed lightly, despite the chill of autumn, unbothered by the cold, nor particularly impatient. If whatever it was wanted a serviceable blade, it would come.