It's been ridiculously, maddeningly hot for the past two weeks, and even Loki's tricks can only do so much to cool down the shabby little apartment where they've been sleeping
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The windowsill, empty until a fraction of a second ago, suddenly houses the trickster in question, sprawled inelegantly across the lip of plaster and taking in the sights without a care in the world.
Replacing that care: many, many beads and a round pair of glasses perched on the tip of his nose.
(Man. If there's one new usage she genuinely despises, out of all the deliberate reworking of their own language that this generation seems bent on, it's that one; using the word not as an appellation but as an oath.)
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The windowsill, empty until a fraction of a second ago, suddenly houses the trickster in question, sprawled inelegantly across the lip of plaster and taking in the sights without a care in the world.
Replacing that care: many, many beads and a round pair of glasses perched on the tip of his nose.
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"You're joking," she says at length, flatly.
(Man. If there's one new usage she genuinely despises, out of all the deliberate reworking of their own language that this generation seems bent on, it's that one; using the word not as an appellation but as an oath.)
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He's been joking since the day he was born. Haven't they covered this?
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