#mischievousliar

     “YOU WERE WHAT?!” Sif exclaimed betweeh her teeth, getting herself up to her feet so fast she felt dizzy, her right hand searching for the wall. Her head was throbbing and by the look of that, it said he hit her right in her forehead. “I’m going to kill you so hard that there won’t be nothing left for Hela.” Her hands grabbed his clothes to pull him closer. “What in Hel were you looking for?”

     That was a good question. Why? When she realized herself long ago that it would be for naught? She shrugged. “Stubbornness? Masochism? I don’t really know.”

     “Am I supposed to believe that?” Not that everything bad that happened was Loki’s fault. But most of the times, they were. Her suspicion was not implausible and he knew it. “So you don’t know what happened to Thor?” If he was going to act like he wasn’t guilty, Sif was going to take a page of his own book. “He almost died. He was lucky I found him. That doesn’t make his state less serious.” That was overstated. Yes, he was hurt. But not that much.

     “So... that is you saying you like them...?”

     “Are you offending me?”

     Sif was really curious. Why was the god of mischief so interested in who she might or not have killed? But alright, she would play that game, maybe it would bring her somewhere. “Well, there was that battle in Vanaheim. But I can’t tell you any names. I’ve killed many that day. But in the heat of battle, it is not like I'm asking how they are called. Why?”

     Amora did miss the old times, not a thing she would never admit, even more to him. She didn’t want to deal with the smug or another reminder that he was not the old Loki she once knew. “Why not? It’s not like I have anything better to do.” Life was kind of boring when all the help she had were the oafs she seduced.

LOOOOOOL