That's a long-winded way of saying I'm your BFF in this dimension.
[ He's not sure what he should be grateful for, though he is, because he can sense the sentiment even if he's too far gone on drinks to follow up with some smart wordplay. The Silvertongue could, the immortal god could, but the twenty-something wondering why he can't just be told Yes, you're my Favourite Loki by anyone (save to himself) just sits up on the table and leans on his folded knees. ]
Which could be part of my diabolical plan, you just don't know.
[ A shrug, easy. Anything being possible, there may come a day he's given cause to seriously doubt Loki or his intentions. At this point he thinks it about as likely as being given cause to doubt Tony or Damian. Nothing that needs planning for.
He sets his glass down, finally, to one side of Loki. ]
[ Loki brings his knees up, an arm wrapped around them as he plays with his empty glass, tapping it against a knee. ]
If you say the reward is my friendship, I'll turn into a pony right here and now.
[ He does shimmer with green but it only scours away the smart shirt and tie combo, leaving him in the comfortable jeans and soft green hoodie he favours most.
The glass is tapped near Stephen's edge of the table. ]
We should go get a bucket of fried chicken before we crash. Lots of little saucy pots. Pots of sauce. You know.
I do know. [ There's comfort in Loki's return to his most comfortable, and Stephen tries offering some back with the swift answer to that call to motion. Yes. Let's go. ] I think that sounds like a very good plan.
[ It's with an old man's gear-up - a couple of preparatory back and forth rocks on his seat - that Stephen eases himself up to standing. The pat to Loki's knee is only a little bit to offset the overbalance. ]
Come on. Before you turn into anything you regret.
I never regret anything I turn into! Except bears. They leave a weird aftertaste like the fuzz of a peach on your tongue ...
[ He hooks a stabilising hand into Stephen's clothing and opens a portal for them, muttering all the way through it about why being a snake is superior to almost any other animal, including the pro "you can swim in a glass of ale". ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ He's not sure what he should be grateful for, though he is, because he can sense the sentiment even if he's too far gone on drinks to follow up with some smart wordplay. The Silvertongue could, the immortal god could, but the twenty-something wondering why he can't just be told Yes, you're my Favourite Loki by anyone (save to himself) just sits up on the table and leans on his folded knees. ]
Which could be part of my diabolical plan, you just don't know.
[ Siiiip. ]
no subject
[ A shrug, easy. Anything being possible, there may come a day he's given cause to seriously doubt Loki or his intentions. At this point he thinks it about as likely as being given cause to doubt Tony or Damian. Nothing that needs planning for.
He sets his glass down, finally, to one side of Loki. ]
The reward justifies the risk.
no subject
If you say the reward is my friendship, I'll turn into a pony right here and now.
[ He does shimmer with green but it only scours away the smart shirt and tie combo, leaving him in the comfortable jeans and soft green hoodie he favours most.
The glass is tapped near Stephen's edge of the table. ]
We should go get a bucket of fried chicken before we crash. Lots of little saucy pots. Pots of sauce. You know.
no subject
[ It's with an old man's gear-up - a couple of preparatory back and forth rocks on his seat - that Stephen eases himself up to standing. The pat to Loki's knee is only a little bit to offset the overbalance. ]
Come on. Before you turn into anything you regret.
no subject
[ He hooks a stabilising hand into Stephen's clothing and opens a portal for them, muttering all the way through it about why being a snake is superior to almost any other animal, including the pro "you can swim in a glass of ale". ]