#askthegodofmischief

 ask-the-god-of-mischief said: ((GDHIGHFDSOGHDFS I probably should have messaged you about plotting first before posting that starter. dhfiodashgoifdshg sorry *hides* I hope you don’t mind that I did that and I’m sorry if I’m anonying

Loki,

We need to talk about this and what it means. I don’t just do this, I don’t [something scribbled out] believe in sex with nothing behind it. So we need to talk.

I took a run and I’m grabbing breakfast, so don’t go anywhere while I’m gone.

Please.

[Did you see my reply to our thread? I’m sorry if I’m being annoying.]

//I did! :3 I have it drafted. My Pepper muse has kinda been inactive because whenever I get home from work, I never really feel like doing anything except lurking and messing around on photoshop. But he's actually the next one on my reply stack! :D

//Okay, just as general knowledge and to let everyone know, next to Iron Man, Loki is my favourite character. I've tried to follow other Loki's before and it just, hasn't worked out to well. I believe I started following this Loki yesterday, and replied to their starter after I got to school today, so I didn't really have a great grasp on their portrayal. BUT I did just go through the first couple of pages on their blog and I'm going to say, without a doubt, possibly the best Loki I've come across. They seem to have such a great grasp on Loki's personality from what I've read and I would love to plot with them should they ever want to.

Being the offspring of two superheroes wasn't as exciting as you would believe, honestly. There were rarely any dangerous situations, and quite often, you were left out of the loop of the inner workings of the superhero community. Sometimes reporters knew more than you did, and reporters barely ever knew what the hell they were talking about.

So, contrary to media belief, Amelia Stark wasn't as fanciful as thought to be. She was a normal seventeen year old girl still going to high school. There was hardly anything special about her other than her parents. And even then, they made sure she never got involved too deeply with SHIELD. Physically, at least. They told her stories, of course. She grew up on stories about their adventures as superheroes; and her favorite one was about their first meeting.

The battle of New York, she read the articles, she saw the videos. As a child, she didn't quite understand the severity. Her parents were saving the world from bad guys, that's all she knew. but now, she had enough of a brain on her shoulders to recognize it for what it was. It was an act of external terrorism organized by someone who deemed himself a God from another realm. Her parents told her quite a bit about the Loki that was the mastermind of the operation, essentially.

She had always felt safe, knowing that he was in confinement in Asgard under the watchful eye of her pseudo-Uncle Thor. Thor was strong and determined, he could keep his kin a safe distance away, right? But still, occasionally she would find herself thinking back to the stories and the myths she read about and would find an overwhelming fear gripping at her heart that he would return and come after her father again, that any of her parents enemies would return. But Loki put a special kind of anxiety in her heart, because what did he had to lose?

With a heavy sigh, the heiress tried her hardest to get her mind out of the rut that it was in, crossing her legs languidly as she pulled her steaming cup of tea to her lips. She was at a lovely cafe downtown that she liked to frequent, mainly because it had a nice garden area that was isolated from the media so they couldn't take too many irritating candids of her. She sat her cup back down before her eyes stared down at the laptop on front of her, her literature final essay staring back at her angrily. Deciding homework was a terrible idea at the time, she leaned back in her seat and took a good look around.

The garden was almost bare of lifeforms other than the beautiful plants, save for two waiters running around and three customers other than herself. Definitely not crowded, and barely anyone gave her the time of day. Two tables over was a couple hovered together and talking lowly to one another, it was sweet and she could swear she felt a smile come to her face. One day, when she has a more mature head on her shoulders and much more competence and comfort with life, she would have that. That sweet connection with another being, a love that didn't need words or visuals. You could just feel it radiating between the two of them like a red sting was tied to their fingers.

Her eyes shifted from the couple to the other occupant of the garden, and she felt a shiver run up her spine when she caught a flash of green in the mans eyes as he too glanced around. The man was sitting in the furthest corner, isolating himself from those he shared the area with. His head was lifted and he was watching the waitress that had just taken his order walk away. His skin was pale, so pale that Amelia didn't think it was healthy, and he looked ethereal. It was obvious he was tall, and slender as well. His hair was long and very dark, pulled out of his face whether it be with product or a tie, she couldn't tell from his angle. An air of familiarity surrounded him and she couldn't look away, her inner gears running at full to make the connection with anything she had come across to see if she really did know this man.

She didn't know if it was the way he moved as she shifted his his chair, or the small glance he had sent her way as he scanned the area, but she found herself frozen in place, her hand extended towards her cup of tea as the realization hit her mid reach. It was like her worst nightmares were becoming reality; the man in front of her was exactly as how her parents described, and she would be lying if she said she didn't feel fear grip at her heart. "Loki--" She whispered out, and it was as if the words shocked her into movement, a small whimper slipping past her lips as she felt her body give a violent shake, her hand knocking into the glass of the cup and tilting it over, splashing the liquid onto her laptop and making a rather loud crackle of energy as the machine fizzled out slightly, a spark or two flying out and causing her to scoot back away from the mess with wide eyes.

It was enough to draw the attention of the area as she let out a sharp curse, her mind momentarily forgetting the possible threat in the vicinity and focusing on cleaning up the mess in hopes to save her essay, but she knew it was a pointless task, and she found herself slumping in her seat and casting a hesitant glance back towards the God. Would he approach her? Was he here because of her? Was he going to go after her father again? Why was he out of Asgard? Why the hell had she decided to go to this cafe on this day at this moment?