#frozenfiances

    “Hey, Lester.” 

loki should have known she'd wind up back here, since she always, always does.

she still feels—disjointed. maybe that's not a strong enough word, for the sensation of being in pieces, of being fucking blown up and scattered in little bits over the latverian landscape. burnt bones and viscera and still horrifically alive, only needing to be gathered up and carefully pieced together again. a task that victor von doom had respected her enough to carry out, or one he intended to wield against her for another favor down the line. she knows she's fine, she knows nothing was wrong with the resurrection, just the martyrdom, but...

no, maybe she's always felt this way, wrecked and torn apart and as if everything has been for nothing at all. and here she is at the start of this chapter again, trying to cover up the stink of death with her best perfume, perched on the opposite side of norman osborn's desk with a glass of strong gin.

she's not done up as magnificently as she was the first time. a little dirtier, like she either hasn't made herself up for a week or like she's been crying, her hair a little limp and matted.

there's no room for immaculacy here. just a quiet office and a man she hates, and one she intends to get dangerously drunk with, knowing from experience that he can keep pace and hoping he makes a grab for her before she has to think about it too closely.

@frozenfiances / x

she suppresses the urge, for once, to deliver norman a scathing "no shit," and turn it back upon him—for once, unlike a great many of the other times, loki deserves this blow from him. she takes it quietly, unflinching, seated contritely next to him on the sofa like he didn't get her blown to fucking shit about a week ago.

he's right. most likely he means to direct it at himself and only speaks it aloud to release it, but she can't help shouldering the weight. she's never openly uttered the phrase for the glory of asgard, always tasted it as poison on her tongue, and yet... and yet.

for once, she had tried. in her own twisted way, everything she had done had been in service to the realm, no matter what it looked like, no matter how she had to rely on what she no longer wanted to be. a flag is not a shield, loyalty is not safety, and ends, loki has learned, do not justify the means, and oft make them feel utterly worthless.

loki leans into norman osborn, rests her head on the shoulder of her murderer, her lover, her downfall. at least here, she knows not to expect any better.

  But uh, she holds that in. She really does like this job. When you make it to THE SHOW, it’s hard to go back to working Bingo Halls and Rec Centers. Some people handled it with grace, most couldn’t. She fit into the ‘most’ category.

  Stepping up, she set her phone down on his- No, she zoomed in to the photograph she was here to show him and then set it down on his desk. “In about five weeks, New Japan is hosting a Cross-Promotional Rumble. They’re recruiting from all kinds of territories and promotions, for all kinds of matches, work-styles, and stories. With your permission, I’d like it if my sister and I were allowed to head out on excursion and represent the brand. Since we don’t have any stories at Mania, or in the build-up, it could be a good chance to get outside eyes on the company and what we’re about.”

  Plus! It was hosted by Keniuchio Harada’s company! That was his sigil in the photo, his brand putting out the call. She might not be the best study, but there was still ‘good blood’ between these two, right? 

SEND A FORBIDDEN THOUGHT | OPEN

“Honestly, Lester,” Daken drawls, performatively bored with his head resting on his hand.

     PUPPY HAS NEVER BEEN IN AN OFFICE BEFORE; the fanciest place he’s ever seen the inside of was--- HEAVEN, maybe?  ( THAT PLACE WAS A DUMP COMPARED TO THIS ! ) he feels out of place in his big leather jacket and dirty ( WHAT AN UNDERSTATEMENT! there’s literally BITS OF BRAIN stuck in your laces, puppy! ) sneakers. even at night, this place seems WAY above puppy’s usual paygrade. 

     he shifts his weight from one foot to the other; this is WILDLY different from puppy’s typical under-the-table dealings with people like rustam, where neither party has to look the other in the face. DO A JOB, GET PAID--- from a distance, of course, where his contacts had PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY. ( NOBODY CALLS YOU FOR A CLEAN UP, THAT’S FOR SURE! ) that’s all there is to it.

     so puppy is suspicious--- IS he suspicious?--- when he’s welcomed in like this is a casual meeting, one where the details of how puppy is going to turn people into the GORIEST finger paintings anybody’s ever seen aren’t what’s being discussed. ( MAYBE HE WANTS TO TURN YOU INTO SPARE PARTS ! ♥ ) he flinches at HER teasing; that’s a possibility, isn’t it? she DOES like dangling his life over his head for fun... maybe this is one of those times. only one way to find out, right?