This was supposed to be an easy job. All expenses paid faecation to New York, courtesy of the Ashe, and all they had to do was get intel on some potentially disastrous goings on in a region the Ashe had no control over. There had been an incident. It was all over the news. What kind of threat did this pose to the fae community? Were there fae involved? What was the risk of exposure? The leaders of the Light and Dark in New York had no reason to tell the others a damn thing, if they knew anything at all, despite the proximity and potential for conflict. There was no way the Ashe or the Morrigan could let any of their own infiltrate the area and find out the real story, either. They had rules. Strict rules
( ... )
That earns a quirked eyebrow as Loki lifts himself to his feet, but there's a bright smile on its tail. "No, not yet, but if I'd known that's what you were expecting I'd have tried harder to accomodate."
He could, too. A good liar -- a good jester, as he occasionally calls himself in his more self-deprecating moods -- has a suit of armour for all occasions, and Loki is a very good liar. Which is why he knows that in this case to have dressed too appropriately would have been as obvious a tell as to dress too well. Casual is good. Casual works.
"Was she terribly upset to lose you?" he asks with a sympathetic furrowing of the brow. "I would be. Anyone ought to be. Fortunately for me I'm not at all kind enough to care. Shall we
( ... )
"Nah, you're good. This way I can be seen in public with you and not feel the burning, burning shame of a thousand suns." Casual definitely works
( ... )
"Ouch," Loki replies, looking down at her with a wounded expression. "And here I thought you might just like me for who I am, not the clothes I wear."
A joke. Metaphorically as well as literally speaking, everyone who likes him (a very short list of people indeed) likes him for the latter reason. He's used to it, and so the mock hurt shifts back to a teasing smile as easily as Loki slips his skin. Even when wearing his own face he can put on disguises
( ... )
"Just because I probably do like you for who you are, doesn't mean I want to be seen with you lookin' like a fool and let you kill my rep." She's joking. Of course she's joking. Not only does she not give a damn about her reputation, thank you very much Joan Jett, she's not that shallow. A little shallow, yes, but not that shallow. Most of the time Kenzi's hard exterior is just covering up for a gooey, sweet, way too soft center that gets her into more trouble than it's worth. She knows better, always knows better, but that doesn't mean she can just turn off her stupid-squishy heart. It's how she got in deep with Bo even when common sense was telling her to run
( ... )
Loki laughs, sharp and genuine, perhaps slightly unhinged but who isn't, these days? Certainly the sort of fellow who'd take a girl out to buy expensive clothing on their second meeting, without any guarantee he'll ever see her again after the next date, isn't quite playing with a full deck
( ... )
Loki rubs the back of his neck and grins sheepishly at the floor. Well, that worked surprisingly well. It'd be amusing if it weren't so surprising. And vaguely sad, if he bothers to think about it.
"I... no? I was only being honest," he says, sounding just confused enough for it to ring true. "I'm not trying to... I'm only saying."
After that he's silent for a time, stepping back to watch her pick through the dresses, brooding. His eyes travel the store (lingering, of course, on the scarves, of which he's rather fond for so many reasons -- comfort, the hint of colour they add to a formal suit, the fact that they can be turned into a makeshift weapon if need be) and he sucks on his lower lip.
"She must look quite good, your roommate, if you really don't hear that very often," he says softly, smiling at Kenzi a bit sadly before he brightens.
"It's alright; I know how it is. My brother is much better looking than I am. Big blonde and stupid. You and I will just have to settle, it seems." He moves up to stand alongside her, setting
( ... )
Wow. He just hit the nail right on the head there. Maybe he really is psychic... ffff-- nah. No way. He would have called her out on a few choices thoughts by now. But she believes him. For some likely-stupid reason, she believes that he doesn't mean anything by it. That it's genuine. And that freaks the hell out of her but also has her hooked
( ... )
"You've no idea," Loki responds drily as she turns to replace the dress. Big, blonde, stupid, and royalty; a perfect storm of entitlement and ignorance. Of course, Kenzi would probably like him if she knew him. Nearly everyone does.
The words that follow make him smile and huff in amusement. "Well, see, now I can't," he says, reaching out to tap her gently on the nose. "Now it'd seem like I'd only be doing it because I'm worried about curses, and then perhaps you'd think that I mind, and that would be really awful."
Absolutely unforgivable. Loki isn't frightened of any such thing. Besides, if either of them here are cursed, it's him. "I'd much rather there be absolutely no doubt that I want to."
He's probably being unfair, he realises. A bit too good, and some of it in ways he actually isn't. On the other hand, most of it is entirely honest. Perhaps that's the problem. "Which... I do want to, mind, but you've put me in a bit of a tight spot
( ... )
She squeezes her eyes shut when he taps her nose, smiling. Is he serious? Is that seriously why he won't do it? She can't tell if he's joking or just trying to wind her up. If it's the latter, he's doing a damn good job of it. Tease indeed. There's a soft hum of consideration as she cracks an eye open to peer at him before blinking them both open and tilting her head
( ... )
Of course she would doubt him; to say otherwise is laughable and he wouldn't be here if that weren't the case. She's a curious and welcome break from the vast and gullible horde that pushes past his doorstep and meanders through the parts of the city he frequents and has come to call his own.
So really, really, the most honest, the most immediate reaction would be a lamentation, a throwing up of hands, a please, please don't say that; you were doing so well and now it's not a game anymore, just pretending, and so on.
Except, well, that would be rather telling, wouldn't it? Besides, he doesn't trust her for a minute, and that, at least, is all well and good.
"Well," he says thoughtfully, "in that case, what can I possibly do but as the lady wishes
( ... )
Woah. Just-- holy hell... what-- Okay. She was not prepared for that. Not just the minty coolness that was either some peppermint chapstick or really low blood pressure, but the tenderness. Not expected. Not deserved. Just given. Half of her mind was just shouting 'WHY' while the other half drifted through a fog of contentment that showed in the blissful expression on her face as he pulled away. Her eyes opened slowly and that cheshire grin returned with full force
( ... )
If Loki has his way they'll definitely be ruining a rich guy's night (and, though neither he nor Stark are likely to admit it, perhaps making it as well). There will be moments of truth, broken things, a bit of a fight and in the end no real harm done, which means everybody can go on about their business in the morning
( ... )
With that he's on his feet, tall, straight-backed, all confidence, all arrogance as he takes the steps to the stage two at a time in easy, loping strides. And the room is silent when he steps up to the microphone and lets the glamour fall, lets them see, silent save for a soft profanity whose source he needn't see to guess. From his pocket he produces a set of index cards, flicking through them with a faint frown before tossing them over his shoulder and turning his attention back to the crowd.
“Well,” he says cheerfully, grinning wide and mad, “what can I possibly say about Tony Stark that hasn't been said already this evening? You lot at the bar were particularly good-- no, no, I know you didn't speak in front of us all tonight, but I assure you I was listeningHe presses one elegant hand to his chest and gives a stiff, shallow bow in their direction. “I'm terribly sorry; where are my manners? It seems I've forgotten to introduce myself. Some of you know me already. More of you, I expect, than you realise, but these--” he tugs at
( ... )
A game? Kenzi didn't know what she was expecting. Likely more cleverly hidden insults and subtly venomous comments that they could laugh about later. Why would she be frightened of that
( ... )
Reply
He could, too. A good liar -- a good jester, as he occasionally calls himself in his more self-deprecating moods -- has a suit of armour for all occasions, and Loki is a very good liar. Which is why he knows that in this case to have dressed too appropriately would have been as obvious a tell as to dress too well. Casual is good. Casual works.
"Was she terribly upset to lose you?" he asks with a sympathetic furrowing of the brow. "I would be. Anyone ought to be. Fortunately for me I'm not at all kind enough to care. Shall we ( ... )
Reply
Reply
A joke. Metaphorically as well as literally speaking, everyone who likes him (a very short list of people indeed) likes him for the latter reason. He's used to it, and so the mock hurt shifts back to a teasing smile as easily as Loki slips his skin. Even when wearing his own face he can put on disguises ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
"I... no? I was only being honest," he says, sounding just confused enough for it to ring true. "I'm not trying to... I'm only saying."
After that he's silent for a time, stepping back to watch her pick through the dresses, brooding. His eyes travel the store (lingering, of course, on the scarves, of which he's rather fond for so many reasons -- comfort, the hint of colour they add to a formal suit, the fact that they can be turned into a makeshift weapon if need be) and he sucks on his lower lip.
"She must look quite good, your roommate, if you really don't hear that very often," he says softly, smiling at Kenzi a bit sadly before he brightens.
"It's alright; I know how it is. My brother is much better looking than I am. Big blonde and stupid. You and I will just have to settle, it seems." He moves up to stand alongside her, setting ( ... )
Reply
Reply
The words that follow make him smile and huff in amusement. "Well, see, now I can't," he says, reaching out to tap her gently on the nose. "Now it'd seem like I'd only be doing it because I'm worried about curses, and then perhaps you'd think that I mind, and that would be really awful."
Absolutely unforgivable. Loki isn't frightened of any such thing. Besides, if either of them here are cursed, it's him. "I'd much rather there be absolutely no doubt that I want to."
He's probably being unfair, he realises. A bit too good, and some of it in ways he actually isn't. On the other hand, most of it is entirely honest. Perhaps that's the problem. "Which... I do want to, mind, but you've put me in a bit of a tight spot ( ... )
Reply
Reply
So really, really, the most honest, the most immediate reaction would be a lamentation, a throwing up of hands, a please, please don't say that; you were doing so well and now it's not a game anymore, just pretending, and so on.
Except, well, that would be rather telling, wouldn't it? Besides, he doesn't trust her for a minute, and that, at least, is all well and good.
"Well," he says thoughtfully, "in that case, what can I possibly do but as the lady wishes ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
With that he's on his feet, tall, straight-backed, all confidence, all arrogance as he takes the steps to the stage two at a time in easy, loping strides. And the room is silent when he steps up to the microphone and lets the glamour fall, lets them see, silent save for a soft profanity whose source he needn't see to guess. From his pocket he produces a set of index cards, flicking through them with a faint frown before tossing them over his shoulder and turning his attention back to the crowd.
“Well,” he says cheerfully, grinning wide and mad, “what can I possibly say about Tony Stark that hasn't been said already this evening? You lot at the bar were particularly good-- no, no, I know you didn't speak in front of us all tonight, but I assure you I was listeningHe presses one elegant hand to his chest and gives a stiff, shallow bow in their direction. “I'm terribly sorry; where are my manners? It seems I've forgotten to introduce myself. Some of you know me already. More of you, I expect, than you realise, but these--” he tugs at ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment