stopmjolnirtime | Verse One [Action/Voice]

[Action: Locked to Loki]

[One moment he had been standing amongst his brothers (and sister) in arms, Tesseract held in a shielded sheath meant to make the passage home simpler. Safer. The day was bright, the battle won, justice to be meted out by his father and while all was not entirely well with the world it was, for a moment, as close as it might come until his family was once again in the fold.

A twist of the wrist, a blinding flare of blue-

And he wakes bereft of his armor, without the Tesseract, and without his brother.]

Loki-

[He surges to his feet, stumbling, teeth grit and braced for battle. No other being could wrest magic in such a way to transport him somewhere aside from Asgaurd- for this is certainly not his home.]

LOKI! [A beat, and then-] Hammer?

[He extends his fist and his will, waiting for Mjolnir to fly to him- but he senses it not. He is without armor and he is unarmed. It makes for a frustrated, puzzled Thor that tromps through the woods, searching for the Tesseract, his brother, and his armor. At odd intervals he calls out either for his brother, or, in a fit of frustration, his hammer. Neither answer.]

[Action: Open]

[After that...enlightening and less than entertaining discussion with his brother, Thor resumes his wanderings, seeking out the village of which Loki spoke. He is as he was when he arrived, save that he is entirely devoid of clothing.

Thank you, brother.

He shall wander until he finds the village, and wander further still until he finds somewhere to clothe himself. When he finds not a single pair of trousers that would fit him left and a pinned note to a truly hideous gown. All the dresses or feminine clothing that might fit him yet remains.

Thank you so, so much, brother.

Later still he sits, wrapped in a toga formed of a bedsheet, picking at a long since emptied plate in Seventh Heaven]

Should any find trousers sufficient enough to clothe an Asgardian I would be most greateful to have them. I might be found at the Tavern of Seven Heavens, feasting on their hot dogs, which they have assured me are not actually made of hounds.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ A beat and then she realizes that butt... on the journal] Are you property of Stark Industries? Are you a robot?

...I beg your pardon?

There was a video of a naked robot on the journal a while ago. You were just naked.

I am no robot and- what of this recording?

[He flips through the pages for a moment, stares, and slowly goes quite red.]

Pardon me a moment.

Okay, as long as you remind me when you're back.

[It takes a short while. Half an hour just about before he returns. Clothed, even.]

I have returned- I am no robot, nor am I property of the Man of Iron.

Man of--- Oh! [She reply is too instant - like the journal has been next to her the whole time. Which is has, she's just been studying other things. But she snaps her fingers, as she recalls] So it wasn't a product label, it was a BDSM thing with that Tony Stark guy.

...what is this BDSM of which you speak?

It's as combination of Bondage, Discipline, Dominance, Submission, Sadism, and Masochism ...It's a combination of three terms, basically, so the D and S both double up. ... Which is sort of strange, actually.

I...I do not understand these terms in this context. What is it that you think it means to imply?

Haaaah? Seriously, you sound older than me. Whatever- [ She exhales and rubs her eyes. Why does she feel tired now? Weird] Some people enjoy playing around with power games in their relationships. Things like ownership or bondage or other things like that. Some people just do it as a sort of game or sex thing, but other people do it as a way of life. It looked like you had an ownership thing written or tattooed on your butt, so.

I quite likely am.

[Midgardians. So strange to him with their everchanging language and lives. For a long moment he is quiet, mulling over what he has been said, squashing down the immediate surge of indignant rage that scours through him.]

...You mean to say the mark made you think that I had submitted myself to the Man of Iron sexually- and that I had taken a mark to display that I have allowed him to claim me as his property?

[ When you put it like that and she's not the one explaining it, it breaks through the influence she's under right now and it makes her cheeks tinge. But as is usual for her, when in doubt? Try to sound annoyed]

Yes! Jeez, is that so hard to get?!

[Give him a moment. He needs to try not to break the table in front of him. Try very, very hard.

So very hard.]

That. Is not. The case. Not in the slightest. The Man of Iron is my comrade at arms- a shield brother, a man wed to a most gracious Lady- not a deviant!

-- No one said he was a deviant! I'm just making a logical conclusion about what was on your butt! Someone else would have to be skillful to get it on there!