Distorted

Vidar gave her a blank expression. How did he stay angry so long? He probably wasn’t angry enough. “Easy to say when you aren’t the one chained for hundreds of years, isn’t it?” he snarled. “Going to go tell my brother that he should get over hating Thor? Hel that she should get over being cast out into the underworld? Bet you wouldn’t tell Baldr that he was overreacting.”

EIR WAS EVER THE INNOCENT, at least in some since. She carried a purity that was admirable instead of irritating, a sort of breath of fresh air that not even Romeo could deny. Usually, Loki preferred to find what was wrong with this, to dismantle it, but they found that they would give entirely too much to keep her whole. That was ignored, however, and instead a chuckle was given at the suggestion of a meal.

“If you were anyone else, the suggestion of food would have almost been an insult.” They muse, grinning from ear to ear as head shook. “The meal is a down payment, a sign of good faith, the real payment is a favor owed. I’ll be sure to cash in eventually, what do you say?”

That was the last thing she would have ever considered herself to be, innocent. She’d seen too many battles. Bathed herself clean of the blood of too many men. There were too many lives not chosen by her hands for her to dawn the adjective.

An offhand grunt slipped from him in response. “Not enough for it to matter.” Clearly, since nothing grand happened in the name of captive aquatic life. People talk, make promises to really change things, and then they don’t. It’s the same shit recycled from one mouth to another over and over and over again. 

HE FINDS ANOTHER LAUGH, in the way she clearly weighs the decision and then eventually offers the answer. His sister is nothing if not thorough, which is something that has managed to benefit them both. Truly, they have managed to compliment each other immensely throughout the years, one picking up where the other lacks and vice versa. Grin briefly touched a smile before reigning back in, head nodding in agreement with the suggestion..or demand, of a freak show. She wasn’t wrong, it was absolutely a must have, especially in a town like this. Surprise, fascination, awe…it was a challenge he would love to accept. “Absolutely, the town needs one. Here’s the important question for you, what do we put in it, exactly?”

     “You know, Tiptoes, I’m not even going to defend myself.” Head shaking as she moved from snapping the stem to plucking the petals one by one. “I know my worth, at least. And I stray away from petty theft these days, you should take notes. Go rob a bank or something, buddy,” leaving one petal on the flower, she held it out with a pleased grin on her features, “is this all you’ve been up to lately? Being a menace to florists everywhere?”

A brow rose at her words, the corner of his mouth itching to pull into a grin. “No? Is it because I’m right?” A pause. “It’s because I’m right.” Finally he did grin, leaning to give her a little nudge at his words. Tip watched her pluck apart the flower, only half paying attention to her words. It wasn’t until it was held back out to him that he blinked, bringing himself back to the present - and whatever she was saying. He looked for a moment, quiet, before snatching what was left of the flower from her and shoving it into his mouth, taking a rather dramatic chomp from it.

Hal stopped, staring for a moment as Ayda answered, before kicking himself back into gear. “Sometimes I forget that Tai isn’t the only one with a flare for the dramatic… And then I spend time with you.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he started to dig another post into the ground, “A barn…. Right. So he’s… been bringing in stray pigs?” He asked, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m tracking the analogy.” 

-

She made a face at him, her movements pausing for just a moment as she contemplated his words. “A flare for the dramatic?” Ayda blinked, the action slow and drawn out. Only the brave commented on her dramatics. After a moment, she stepped, moving passed him, but pausing just long enough to give his scruffy little cheek a pat. “Sweet michael. He is the stray pig.” And then she was gone, moving for another post. “Leaving my doors open at all hours do you know what i found in my room, Hal? Do you know? Would you like to take a guess?”

“Smash?”

“I mean... anything is possible.”

Vidar looked at her like she was missing her head. “Yes, you see…there seems to be a mistake,” he started. “First of all, that you think you could bribe me with snacks. Second, that you think I’d work with you? You see…from my past? There’s one goddess and one…god? I tolerate.” He looked her up and down. “And it’s not you. And you know? Really, I barely tolerate Loki either. Hel is really the only one of you I like.”

.

Lips drawn into a thin frown, Jie did a quick mental recount of the faces he’s come by thus far. “Would’ve said something if I did. Do you need something?” He asked in return, always with the harsh edge to his words. Not that he intended to speak in such a manner – it just so happened to, well, happen on its own accord. 

OH, EIR. She was everything that some of them aspired to be. There was a sort of near perfection that for once, favored them instead of irritated them. Smile was a brief five second rule, before head tilted with a bit more defiance. “Tease you?” Questioned like it was an accomplishment. “I simply asked what you were willing to trade for it, don’t be dramatic, it doesn’t suit you, Say.”

 Her attention was, at the moment, completely overtaken with the trinket in hand. Delicate fingers were careful as they spun the only moving piece and her gaze, though soft and still full of wonder, couldn’t find a place it wanted to remain. “Tease,” she whispered before those eyes finally bounced back up to the other. “What would you want for it, Ki?” Her hands lowered, trinket safely cradled against her chest. “What favors could I possibly give you these days?” Taking a step toward them, she was practically humming with excitement.

That was the excitement she craved, the rush that came from the bargaining. 

“Cotton candy machine..” Lev repeats the words slowly, letting them roll over his tongue and really settle in. It’s a little fucking concerning, that’s for shit sure. The intense drama of all. The fucking gravity. A hand lifts, lazily pointing toward the machinery in question. “I work at a fuckin’ waffle ho—” One look at her face, and Lev falters. A heavy sigh, an upward glance, and he is nodding as he walks towards it. “I want it on the fuckin’ record that I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” It’s not getting fucking fixed, either. But he won’t say it. And now, a distraction: “So uh… which body party do you wish you could detach?” Beat. “And why.”

She watched him for a moment. There was no expectation on his part, no assumption that he could, or would, be able to fix the machine. But his words pulled a nod from her, the motion short and curt - as if it explained everything that needed to be said.

A brow rose, lips parting just slightly to question him. “A waffle ho?” But the confusion was quickly replaced with excitement. “Oh! You’re going to try?” Following behind him, she made sure to keep enough distance to keep her proximity from falling on the creepily too close fact, but close enough that she could kind of peek over his shoulder.

“It’s okay if you can’t. I understand. Metal is a tricky medium to work with so,” her words cut off with the question he gave. Taken back, just slightly, her brows knotted together as she thought. “Detach, as if I could reattach it when I wanted to?”

      “Okay, yeah,” Luci nodded, eyeing the flowers, “they’re pretty. Most flowers are… most.” She gently pulled one flower loose from the bouquet, holding it up in between the two of them. “Nice to look at, for a little bit. ‘til they’re wilted and ugly. Then what’s the plan?” She began gently bending the stem from the bottom, listening to the tiny snapping sound it made each time. “There’s no value.”