[ It's interesting, to say the least. He might not be the person most fond of the snow and the wind, but it's ... interesting. Of course, he's used to it, thanks to the many unwarranted and unpleasant journeys to the vast frozen plains of Jötunheim over the years. But the familiarity here is gone. It's a quaint, quiet little village (presumably; the outside isn't so bad but the rundown shack he unexplicably woke up in is pitiful at best,) with fewer mountain peaks and even fewer frost beasts roaming about. Might as well take in the few pleasures there are, aye?
But he stands outside after gathering his bearings, and he's surprised. He's cold. There's a chill tingling down his spine, his extremities suddenly feeling the brunt of it. He's cold.
It's remarkable. Years, centuries passing by without wondering why he never needed more than a light coat when travelling to frozen realms and everyone else in the party bundled up in furs, now all for naught. The snow even slips into a crease in his boots and now his toes are colder.
Strange, indeed. Fascinating, but strange. And it took all of two minutes before Loki decided he fucking hated it.
His foul moods are often a force to be reckoned with, but here he has no army, no weapons, no magic, and he's cold. Figuring out what happened can wait, for now he's making an immediate bee line for the nearest unlocked house and kicking the door open, grumbling and stomping inside. ]
Brilliant. [ muttered under his breath as he dusts snow from his hair and shoulders. ] Simply brilliant.
network: prompt #1
[ somehow, he's not surprised. investigations and discoveries can be so time consuming, and now it's getting late and the houses are locked on him. fantastic.
no one seems to be answering his knocks (perhaps they know who's on the other side of the door, good on them,) and now, he falls back to that last resort: primitive technology. it's archaic and it's unreliable, and he can't believe this is what he's reduced to, but if he's stuck outside then someone at least has to throw a pillow out the window. maybe a cup of tea. he could be lucky. ]
Should there be a considerate soul amongst the lot of us all confined here, a word of advice on safe lodgings in these dreadful outdoor conditions would be appreciated.
I've my doubts, obviously, but it would be nice not to have to sleep in a snowdrift.
loki; mcu (post-tdw)
[ It's interesting, to say the least. He might not be the person most fond of the snow and the wind, but it's ... interesting. Of course, he's used to it, thanks to the many unwarranted and unpleasant journeys to the vast frozen plains of Jötunheim over the years. But the familiarity here is gone. It's a quaint, quiet little village (presumably; the outside isn't so bad but the rundown shack he unexplicably woke up in is pitiful at best,) with fewer mountain peaks and even fewer frost beasts roaming about. Might as well take in the few pleasures there are, aye?
But he stands outside after gathering his bearings, and he's surprised. He's cold. There's a chill tingling down his spine, his extremities suddenly feeling the brunt of it. He's cold.
It's remarkable. Years, centuries passing by without wondering why he never needed more than a light coat when travelling to frozen realms and everyone else in the party bundled up in furs, now all for naught. The snow even slips into a crease in his boots and now his toes are colder.
Strange, indeed. Fascinating, but strange. And it took all of two minutes before Loki decided he fucking hated it.
His foul moods are often a force to be reckoned with, but here he has no army, no weapons, no magic, and he's cold. Figuring out what happened can wait, for now he's making an immediate bee line for the nearest unlocked house and kicking the door open, grumbling and stomping inside. ]
Brilliant. [ muttered under his breath as he dusts snow from his hair and shoulders. ] Simply brilliant.
network: prompt #1
[ somehow, he's not surprised. investigations and discoveries can be so time consuming, and now it's getting late and the houses are locked on him. fantastic.
no one seems to be answering his knocks (perhaps they know who's on the other side of the door, good on them,) and now, he falls back to that last resort: primitive technology. it's archaic and it's unreliable, and he can't believe this is what he's reduced to, but if he's stuck outside then someone at least has to throw a pillow out the window. maybe a cup of tea. he could be lucky. ]
Should there be a considerate soul amongst the lot of us all confined here, a word of advice on safe lodgings in these dreadful outdoor conditions would be appreciated.
I've my doubts, obviously, but it would be nice not to have to sleep in a snowdrift.