@umbracrowned &&. SAID... Shadow Milk’s not quite sure what he’s looking at. He’s been here before ( he’s fairly certain ), that much he knew. But there’s not much a Beast can do when they’re in an unfamiliar place other than cause mischief. Or poke and prod and finally drop himself on top of Loki’s head because – well. Why not? … He’s not chewing on Loki’s hair. He’s not. But he’s going to feel tiny teeth and maybe some small tugs. Don’t squish him– or do. He’ll pop right back up like a daisy though.
maybe he spends just a bit more time hoping something EXCITING would happen in asgard than he should. ( though is it really his fault? eternity doesn't have to be so boring. ) perfection is just another, prettier word for stagnation — and between the ornately decorated halls, towering architecture and meticulously preened gardens, stagnant is the perfect way to describe the stronghold of the norse pantheon. that particular afternoon, loki finds himself sitting in one of those aforementioned gardens, chin resting on folded arms. he's hunched over a table studded with enough gemstones to afford a human generational wealth — itself wholly unremarkable among the riches rained on the upper echelons of the gods. there's a wall of hedges trimmed in a rectangular shape; loki has been staring at them for quite some time now, gears spinning in the back of his skull as he devises his next prank. something to break up the monotony, something to make hilde smile. ( hopefully, hopefully, hopefully. ) maybe he'll turn them into a hedge maze? maybe he'll turn this whole garden into a hedge maze. might be fun watching the maids and guards and everyone else too unimportant to know by name scamper around like lost little rats.
... speaking of rats, what in odin's name is gnawing on his HEAD?
❝ hey, hey, hey, heyheyheyhey — ! ❞ his protests gradually grow in volume, drawing a quizzical look from a passing angel — who quickly turns away and quickens his pace upon recognizing loki. ( his reputation precedes him. ) the tugging and gnawing doesn't hurt necessarily, but it certainly is annoying and that's reason enough to put a stop to it. his hand shoots up, snatching the tiny disturbance with a grimace. loki holds out the so-called rodent like a scruffed kitten, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. he squints at the sight that greets him — more blue than anticipated. also considerably more humanoid? he swears he's seen this creature once before. well, that's one way to cure his boredom.
❝ biting off a little more than you can chew, don't you think? ❞ he talks, doesn't he? the small blue clown? it's eyebrow-raising times like these where loki really does regret not having any. ❝ applying for the role of court jester? sorry to burst your bubble, that job's already spoken for. ❞ by him, for the record.
