#mightyheir

The inner workings of the observatory were just winding to a halt as Loki dismounted and crossed the threshold. "My son," he greeted with a nod as the final wisps of dark energy that powered the bridge dissipated into the air. "It's good to see you home."

It had been a very, very lifeless day in the life of Loki. His usual comrades, those drunkards and misfits that he chose to spend his time with, had apparently decided as a collective not to invite him out today. So, as the sun fell below the horizon and a handful of stars dotted the light-polluted sky, Loki took to the streets for a short walk, in hopes he mind find something interesting. What he had not expected was to see the brutish, blonde man that he couldn't help but recognize. Trying not to show any sign of panic, he pulled his hood farther over his head, and hoped to walk past him unnoticed. For all Thor knew, Loki was dead, and he wanted to keep it that way. 

"Sam."

Steve groaned and mumbled as he heard the door open to his room, waking him up from his almost there slumber. "Bucky, I told you that I was not going to take you to get fast food. It is too fucking late for that," Steve snapped angrily without opening his eyes or moving at all. He figured it was his boyfriend coming back into their room from where he had gone to sulk on the couch over Steve not wanting to go to Taco Bell at 4 in the morning.

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Sif was sitting in the tavern, a half empty chalice of ale in front of her. The drunken crowd roared with laughter ad cheered merrily. She sighed and took a drink from her glass, blinking when someone sat across from her.