avenge the fallen

"Investigation," he answers, a teasing lilt to his voice as he waggles his eyebrows jokingly."I wanted to see what your mighty little organization was doing when it came to me, and Asgard, I suppose, so I decided to take a little trip and see how things were going. Little did I know I would end up trapped in a janitorial closet with one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen."

She furrows her brows, smile growing skeptical. "Sure." Charlotte says lowly, her phrase practically dripping with sarcasm as it crawls it's way past her full, curled lips. She rolls her eyes, before her gaze lands right back on him. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Papi."

I just had a straight guy tell me “Gah I love lesbians” and before I could even say anything, he added, “because, ya know, they like the same thing I do and sometimes it’s nice to get advice from a girl instead of guys who think making love is just repeatedly putting your dick in something, ya know?” And I have never been more proud of the human race.

He takes her hand in his, but instead of shaking it brings it to his lips, placing a lingering kiss on her knuckles. Squeezing her hand gently, he lets go, smiling smugly, knowing she did not expect his move. “Loki Laufeyson, of Asgard. It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Martes.”

Her brows knit together suspiciously, before she slowly brings back her hand. In her movement, Charlotte makes a point to wrap her thumb around the first notch of each finger, cracking her knuckles in succession. "Likewise." She murmurs, the corners of her mouth curling upwards slightly, brows falling to a lax state. "What brings you all the way from Asgard, Mr. Laufeyson?"

"More qualified?” She asks, furrowing her brows slightly at his rather offensive choice of words. Charlotte purses her lips, fingers tapping on her upper arm lightly. “Sorry, I didn’t think you’re coming off as kind— more like patronizing. That, and the whole hand over my mouth thing didn’t put me in the best mood, either. That was half my fault, though.” She sighs through her nose, silently, before bringing her legs up and crossing them, so that one foot would rest under the opposite knee. “But, if you truly mean to be kind, I am sorry. I would’ve returned it under different circumstances. You understand my bias, don’t you?”

"I suppose," he relents, leaning his head back against the stony wall. "May I request a restart, then? Wipe the slate clean, and meet all over again? We do not have much to do while we’re stuck here, and I would very much like to get to know you better, darling."

The agent narrows her eyes at his proposition. Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips, preparing for words to spill. Charlotte hesitates. She leans her shoulders back against the door, her gaze locking on his person, sizing him up and down. "And a restart you shall have." She leans forward, unfolding one leg and bending her knee up, foot keeping her balance as she extends her arm. "Charlotte Martes." The woman holds out her hand, anticipating a shake.

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