WHY DON'T YOU PLAY GOD?

Six had been listening quietly, considering the dilemma, their options, and the uncanny parallel of another runty ice giant -- pulling an Odin was obviously not in the cards. No, there needed to be a reason for a pardon, something fair and reasonable, especially considering how hard a time he was having garnering approval at all.

"Oh!" Satisfied she wasn't stepping on his toes, Six snuck her arm in Loki's to pull him to the side for a private council, so to speak, "One second, Drrf -- we deliberate really quick."

Twenty feet away was probably good enough, and as extra precaution, she was speaking quietly. "What if -- just granting a special pardon for no reason would definitely call things to question, but if we gave him a job? Then anyone who would try and harm him would be offending the crown, right? And that would at least give them some hesitation, right?"

Hopefully all the fantasy shows she'd been binge watching upon her return were coming into play in a good way here, "Then, if anyone objects, it's a matter of flexing the power you have as king and being mighty and putting them in their place. It's... maybe not ideal, but -- but maybe it could work? He could be like... what if he's my advisor, or something? Low enough stakes, considering I'm not the head honcho around here. Whatever advise he has for me could just be about Jotunn customs and stuff!"

But he was fairly good at utilizing the skill in others-- especially his wife. His lips pursed and a finger tapped against his chin thoughtfully as she laid out her idea, and the slight nod said he was already running with it. "Jotun Olympics..." he muttered quietly, storing it for later.

Loki was interrupted by a short glance over his shoulder. Drrf was now much closer, about eight feet away, hiding poorly behind a statue. The King considered it apt to lift a hand, a small push of telekinesis enough to send Drrf skidding back out of earshot. That'll teach him.

"I like the advisor thing. And Hel, maybe he could actually teach you more about Jotun culture! The boy knows more than I do, probably."

Name: Loki "Out To Get You" Laufeyson

Age: It varies

Do you like to cuddle?: Very closely.

Can we make-out?: We'd better.

A night in or dinner out?: Dinner out, somewhere heinously expensive, with a window that looks good for a great dine and dash escape.

Whip cream or chocolate syrup?: All of this and also ice cream.

Chocolates and roses?: Chocolates AND roses, although there is a good chance both of them are just full of snakes.

What makes you a good Valentine?: I'm handsome, spontaneous, exciting, and hilarious! Also I'm a challenge. You like challenges, right?

Would you cook for me?: >:)

Would you let me cook for you?:  Unsure if I would trust it but go ahead!

Where would you take me on a date?: A far-off, mystical landscape! Maybe a cliff somewhere, and we can rock paper scissors over who pushes who off <3

Who’s paying?: We're stealing <3

What did you get me for Valentine’s Day?: It's a snake. It's just a snake.

@tricxet / valentine application

So...Here's a thing Tony's learned today: It is possible to speedrun the five stages of grief; well, mostly, he never makes it to acceptance before the cycle starts all over again, and while he's sure there's some absolutely fascinating psychological implications here, he's kind of glad he's caught in that feedback loop of emotion. Acceptance would mean, God forbid, he's finally given up, gotten worn down under the onslaught of sheer nonsensical stupidity he's been confronted with, and, you know...That's no life worth living.

"Didn't we, like. Literally just go through this?" Deep down, he knows good and damn well all he's doing is encouraging Loki's bullshit, right, he knows this, but it's a knee jerk compulsion. Loki's one of those thorny areas in this gig: He hasn't been the biggest menace the Avengers have faced since their inception, no - that honor goes to much bigger fish in the superpowered pond - but technically is the reason the Avengers exist. True, it was because Loki had been shit stirring and five fists are, logically, better than one, but the fact remains that the Avengers no doubt wouldn't have formed - or formed as they did - if not for Thor's pain in the ass sibling.

On the other, far less objective hand, it's Loki. And to be honest, Tony really doesn't think he needs to add a qualifier to that. It's Loki.

Loki had a look on his face that said he'd passed the English exam, but the dumb lilt to it spoke of a deeper, stupider bullshit.

Oh, this is...This is deeply unfortunate. It's the kind of thing he wishes he could, you know, unsee. Delete from his brain (risky, sure, but wouldn't be the first time). The kind of thing a guy watches an Annihilation wave or Galactus with his planet-sized boba tea straw stroll up and do nothing about, because there's nothing good and pure and unsullied in this world.

"So...We're just gonna put that right where it belongs-" It's probably rude to put that through the paper shredder right in front of the gifter, right, but fuck it. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind, or some such nonsense. Honestly, Tony's a big enough man to admit it gives him a little bit of grim satisfaction, to watch the shredder chew the bingo card into tainted little strips.

An ever-attentive listener, Six was nodding along, a troubled frown on her face at the idea of it all. Her attachment to the little giant was growing all the more, especially when it seemed as if he were cut from a similar cloth as the present King of Jotunheim. Her own smile was impossible to keep back, either.

"You seem to be evading them just fine so far," it was meant as encouragement, compliment that she hoped would bolster his seeming lack of confidence, "There are other ways to be strong than sheer size alone. It takes a clever mind to come up with tricks and games, and an even more clever one to stay ahead. Still," Six paused then, a small cant of her head as she considered the situation and her own opinions of it. "It's not great, having to worry about that all the time, is it. How have you been managing so far, Drrf?"

Empathy to the small was still something he had to work on-- for now he could default to Six, who seemed to have it much more naturally.

"Mostly hiding," Drrf admitted, scuffing his foot, "but they keep finding my hiding places, and... I'm beginning to run out. I was... hoping, perhaps, for a decree of royal protection? You know. 'Don't pick on me, by order of the Royal Family!'"

"Mm," Loki's lips thinned. "Surely that will be well received by the other Jotun. I'm not exactly polling well around here, Drrf."

There was something about it -- the way he was so small, something of a runt, or the way his wide eyes carried so much expression, and most certainly his smile, missing teeth and sort of bashful -- Six found herself enamored already. In some ways, it reminded her of Loki all those years ago, as he was when he'd saved from a Legion ship.

She was reaching out her own hand to give to Drrf when he'd pulled his hand away. The smile on her face was one bright -- she seemed like she was having fun. At the very least, she was enjoying the hit of dopamine at being called pretty.

"It's nice to meet you, Drrf." Part of her was tempted to insist he call her Six, but thought better of it. Decorum was most likely prudent to keep up. Instead she also bowed, a slight nod of her head and bend at the knees, one foot behind the other like a curtsy. Her smile was still friendly as always, a reassurance that there was nothing to worry about presently. "And thank you very much -- I promise that we won't step on you for no good reason."

So when Six looked at him, Loki gave a pensive shrug, though his attention returned soon to the small frost giant now awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. "Well, my King and Queen, I called because I needed help-- you see, the other Jotun are... well. They keep trying to eat me."

Loki's lips flattened, a hand on his hip. Not worth his time, if perhaps sentimental. "And why is that, Drrf?"

"Well... I am small, of course, and quite edible."

"Simply that?"

Drrf's foot scraped a neat circle in the ice, his hands hooking behind his back. "Well, I... like to, um... play games with them. Games they aren't aware they're playing, you know?"

"Pranks."

"But your Majesty, you must understand-- I--" Drrf was growing pink in the face, his head lolling from side to side with urgency. "Well... yes, I admit they aren't always in good humor, it's not like they'll play games with me otherwise!"

With a squeeze and a deep breath, they were on their way. Being here like this, different than in dreams, wandering ruins with broken bones and crushed skulls underfoot, was both familiar an unsettling. She was thankful for the excuse of the cold to blame the shudder down her spine on.

The echo that surrounded the palace was as unsettling as the carved reliefs of violence and strength. Still, Six didn't let her fear or unease grip her. It would only get in the way. Instead, she marveled at the high ceilings, the impossibly large space before and around them. It could be cozy. Maybe that was something she could help with.

"Where's my seat?" She teased, a skip ahead towards the throne, if only to look at it closer. It reminded her of waking up with aching ribs and a battle before her, and with the memory came a sour feeling in her stomach. It didn't stay, however; the word prank, especially when it came to the Frost Giants of this place, seemed... odd. "...Do the Jotun like pranks?"

Six rounded the back of the throne, simply out of sheer curiosity -- if it was a prank, or an ambush, or some other kind of trouble, it was better to be prepared. But as she rounded the throne, the sight of somebody hiding made Six take a step back, a hand against her chest in subtle but genuine surprise.

And he was staring right at her, skinny hands wringing. The smile he gave was sheepish, missing a few teeth, almost appeasing. "H-hi...."

Loki's head popped over the top of the throne a moment later, his brow furrowed. "What's this? You're not..."

"Drrf, your Majesty..." He attempted an awkward bow, and carefully stepped further back away from them, large feet silent on the ice. He was easing around the throne to face them a little better. "Apologies for the, uh, for the hiding. I was just... not sure if you would... you know. Step on me... or something."

Loki's head tilted, a hand poised on his waist. He seemed quizzical, if surprised. "I would've brought bigger boots." "Who is-- um. Who is this pretty lady?"

"Drrf, this is Six-- Queen of Jotunheim, my bride."

They were on a very serious mission here, but Six was still having fun. Getting to meet the Nidhogg, getting to see more of Jotunheim beyond dreams, getting called O Valkyrie Mine by the love of her life. She would have raised her arms upwards like it was a roller coaster if it wouldn't have killed her. Instead Six only cheered, a joyous, elated laughter at the feeling of her stomach bottoming out like the best kind of thrill ride.

"It's beautiful," Like that made any difference. From up here it seemed gargantuan; to be on the surface of Utgard would most certainly mean being entirely eclipsed by Laufey's palace. Her eagerness was starting to die down, and taking its place were undeniable and hard to ignore.

"Entering my dead, evil sire's house loses its oomph the fourth or fifth time. You know, something about the dramatic irony of being literally dwarfed by his memory... like, a little too on the nose to be poignant anymore." he took her hand anyway, and offered a reassuring smile. He was okay.

The walk wasn't a long one, but it was tedious inside a castle mostly blank and uncomfortably frigid. Loki hadn't decorated much, though it seemed the pillars of unrefined ice sculptures had pre-dated him. Ice giants, ice giants killing other ice giants, ice giants killing Asgardians, the depictions were lacking Loki's dramatic storytelling flair.

And there was the throne room: a massive vaulted space with a nearly translucent ice ceiling that beckoned in the meager light hidden by thick clouds. Tables of stone and cold iron, sconces of ram horns unlit, and of course the throne itself-- uninviting save for the surplus of furs thrown on top of it. Now that was Loki's touch. No king deserved a chilly ass.

Concise was going to be a hard brief to follow -- Six was one to ramble. She was internalizing the advice when the Nidhogg landed before them. She laughed, delighted and pleasantly surprised. "Oh -- hello!"

With her palms facing upwards, Six stood still to allow him to sniff her, "You helped Loki save me on Asgard, didn't you? Thank you very much for that. It's nice to meet you. Do you like being pet?"

It had all been second hand information up until this point. The creature Loki had created had only been mentioned to her in passing. Things were different, but not entirely in a bad way. He was a true king now, another child created, and she was, strangest of all, divine. "We need to get to the palace," saying it aloud earned a small giggle, "Would you please?"

But of course, he was only two years old.

There was an intelligence to his eyes, though childish, one that betrayed a depth of emotion and understanding-- like all of Loki's creations, his autonomy wasn't up to debate.

A few huffs that sent her hood and hair tossing in the wind, and the Nidhogg presented its back to be mounted on. Loki took place behind her, and guided her hands to the tufts of mossy, long hair in a mantle around the beast's shoulders. "Think of it like your winged steed, O Valkyrie Mine. Just bigger. And--"

And the dragon was off. Loki hunched to try and keep Six closer to his back as bat-like wings beat a hard rhythm. Loki howled his excitement.

And in the distance, unobscured by foggy clouds of ice, was a half-ruined castle of white and blue. A frozen palace. "Utgard," Loki spoke directly into her ear under the storming winds. "Laufey's castle. It's a bit big for my tastes."

Six's frown was a clear enough sign she wasn't happy with the answer. There wasn't anything they could do about it, really, not with her there, but it wasn't the hoofing it that gave her concern. "Ratatoskr, if you can hear me..." A slight furrow of her brow followed as Six took a moment to think, "When you have the time, stop by, okay? It's been awhile, I'm real sorry about that. I'd like to catch up."

She could spend more time worrying about it after this; Loki needed her help, and so Six was slipping on the new parka and gearing up for what would certainly be a difficult holding of court. At least the cold weather felt like something she could handle better than she might've in the past; acclimated, or as close as a human might be able to.

Though if he'd paid more attention, he likely would've seen clearer that she was, as usual, correct.

But they had other matters to worry about.

Once they were dressed, Loki was heading out of their suite to the Tops-- an easy access point. "No idea, really. Probably a petty and confusing squabble... we're good at improvising. As per royal decorum? Try to keep your sentences brief, because most of their attention spans shrivel up after a couple words. We'll be alright. And on second thought... I may be able to get us a ride."

And a ride he certainly got them. Upon arrival in Jotunheim, through the buffeting winds, Loki let out a shrill whistle.

Six could see it before it even seemed to hear the summons-- a massive black shape in the sky, a shadow moving through a mist of slowly falling snow, writhing and dancing and flipping through the air like it was water. Bat-like wings spread to herald a descent.

The Nidhogg's very presence, upon landing, seemed to warm up the air around them. He gave a shake of his head like a dog shaking off snow, droplets of water flying, and it bound closer to shove its massive face closer to sniff the new lady next to his mommy.

"Honey Bun, this is, uh... the Nidhogg. He hasn't decided on a name yet, but we're hoping for something good." His head tilted to the dragon, who was shuffling about like a dog excited to meet a new person.

"Of course not!" She swore. That did, in fact, solidify the theory that the Jotun weren't all too happy with the change in leadership. She listened intently as Loki confirmed it aloud, she nodded slowly, letting the truth of it all sink in.

"With time maybe that can change," she offered kindly, the optimism not as naive as perhaps it sounded. Trust and respect could be earned -- whatever gods were out there knew that Six had fought that battle time and time again. Perhaps that was what Loki meant when he'd said he'd needed her diplomacy skills. "You will give me a tour of your palace, won't you?"

No doubt it would be a difficult trip, but she couldn't help her excitement at the unknown. "Ratatosk, Ratatosk..." the messenger had been MIA for a good while since Six's return from Valhalla. Six had tried, to some avail, to say hello again, but it seemed as if the demonic squirrel had been avoidant. Even now, as Six was calling, there didn't seem to be an answer.

Besides, a glance in the mirror confirmed that his hair looked good, and that was all the pep he needed.

The rumination was interrupted by Six's failure to conjure Ratatoskr. Loki turned with a furrowed brow and her coat in hand-- a large blue parka, a gift from her mother. Loki had opted for a fur-lined cloak, because of course he did. "Ratatoskr? Hmm. No, I haven't, but..."

Six didn't mean to oooooooh! the way she did, amazed and impressed by the news. He hadn't mentioned this yet. But she did in fact ooh, excited by the sudden reveal, even with all the attached implications that came with it.

It meant -- did it mean? -- she was a queen. Was that good, or bad? Her jaw dropped, and the only thing she wore on her expression was wonder at her husband's new title. It was absolutely complicated, but she thrived in difficulty, didn't she?

"Can I tease you about it? Playfully? Kind of flirtin'ly? Like can I curtsy?" If he was more hands off, far be it from her to overstep or offer any suggestions until asked. If he needed help with diplomacy, it was best to wait to see just what the issue was that needed the Courier's touch. "That's amazin'." Open-ended, of course; only two audiences and allowing them to self govern could have been for any litany of reasons.

"Yes, of course. Just... obviously not in front of the Jotun, yes?" His hands lifted to cup hers, to draw them lower as if he was getting ready to bring something somber to the moment. He had to explain it point-blank now, before she could assume anything else.

"You'll have to be careful though, alright? The giants only respect two things-- brutality and size. Things we are currently both lacking. I may be King, but I'm not winning any popularity contests-- thankfully Jotun aren't particularly ambitious towards lofty political titles. Do you understand?"

His hands released hers, and Loki stood up. "Can you call Ratatoskr while I get our coats? She's our best way in-- my palace is a bit of a hike from the Bifrost Platform."

She'd caught up as quick as she could after being away for two years -- having studied what she'd missed thanks to organizing the information like she had didn't take long; she was about to the present when Loki re-entered. As was routine, Six put her Pip-Boy down into her lap to give Loki her undivided attention. Honey buns was new, but she knew that posture well enough. All judgment was reserved until the end, which had her suddenly sitting upright, concern knitting into her brow.

"Jotunheim?" It certainly surprised her, but nowhere in that did it seem to be negative. Just a shock, considering everything. There'd been a sense of urgency the last time they had to go there, and that had ended in his untimely death. The memory still made her stomach churn. Still, she was patient.

The Trickster sheepishly meandered over to where she sat so he could perch on her armrest, one knee propped up and his chin in his hand. The smile on his face was small, but fond. "Nothing dire. But I'm being summoned for a hearing by one of the ice giants. I'm... sort of their King."

"I assumed the throne a while back for largely political purposes. Sort of a technicality with realms of the Aesir, even the ones who would rather a more anarchistic approach..." a hand waved as if to just glaze over the fact that Loki was now an actual King with actual subjects. "Long story short, as the last living heir of Laufey I'm now King of Jotunheim, and none of my subjects listen to me, but that's alright."