There's a vaguely bored trickster god on a couch (if smoke is starting to curl up out of the upholstery, ignore it, it's a natural side effect), fiddling with a tea cozy. In defiance of the springtime warmth and, actually, the insideosity of the setting, it's snowing a little.

If anyone's been looking for the sporadic trickster-god, today he's conveniently located in the kitchen, making partridge-berry tea. (Where he can possibly have found the berries in question at this time of year doesn't really bear thinking on, but it is good tea.) And it isn't even crackplotted!

T: Open post, for Prince Paul or anyone else who ( Read more... )

It's just possible he hasn't been seen in a little while (hardly any time at all, if you're a god), but now Loki's out in the snowy windy night, building a snowman. And he's wearing a woolly hat, and fuzzy mittens with strings on, and having generally a great time putting this splendid little person together. He's already got a happy half-circle of ( Read more... )

Loki is not, currently, on fire. The couch he's sitting on may be a bit singed, but you never know, that might not have anything to do with him. To all appearances, he's just innocently sitting by a window, drinking hot chocolate and watching the snow fall-- which, again, just might not actually be his doing.

This is a bored god.

It used to be that when gods were bored, they'd play Solitaire with the continents. But this one's just sitting around with a singed book he isn't reading, while little sparks flutter uselessly in the air around him. If anyone should want to talk to him, now would be a good time.

Loki is outside-- lying on his stomach in a small meadow from which the snow has almost entirely receeded and in which several clumps of snowdrops are blooming. He holds in his hands a smooth cedar puzzle box, gleaming in the sunlight, which he will be attempting to open soon, but not yet.

He is smiling.