open post | psls | memes.

[ikols]

( NON-GAME THREADS. )

Comments

[primedirectives]

You gave birth to a horse and you don't even know how big it is?

[ He takes a bite of his salmon because it looks and smells delicious, turning his attention to Loki and away from the picture of the red-eyed eight-legged stallion he'd been admiring.

His fork halfway to his mouth with a second bite, Chris pauses and blinks at him a little. ]

Nine feet tall at the shoulder?

[ikols]

He wasn't that big when I gave birth!

[ Spluttering, Loki shores up their dinner onto plates. ]

He's about, uh ... [ With an absent wave of his fingers while sorting out the salmon, a green magical hologram of a truly enormous horse standing 8.5ft at the shoulder shimmers into life. It looks like it could trample a shuttlecraft. ] About that big.

[primedirectives]

I should certainly hope not.

[ Smirking, Chris slides back the data device and then lets himself be distracted by the sparkling green hologram of the horse, stunned both by its size and the eight legs. Apart from the extra appendages and the fact that it's about the size of a house, it looks like a perfectly normal horse.

Chris can't help wondering how the hell to put a saddle on it. ]

He's massive.

[ikols]

[ Chris's plate is set down loudly and Loki leans in, hand on a hip. ]

You're cute when you go all farm boy on me.

[primedirectives]

I am not going all farm boy on anyone.

[ Hardly a convincing protest, considering that is exactly what he's doing and he knows it, too. ]

I grew up on a ranch, alright, I like horses.

[ikols]

Hah! You're a horse boy.

[ Cackling, Loki tucks into his meal of mayo-mash, braised honey salmon, and spicy grilled veggies. ]

[primedirectives]

[ There's a lot Chris could say in response to that, but all he does is give Loki a significant look before tilting his chin to indicate the green hologram horse still standing off to one side.

If anyone's a horse boy in this room, it sure isn't Chris. ]

[ikols]

[ Ey! The noise he makes through his mouthful disagrees. ]

His father Svaldifari was a good-looking stallion, and I know you know what I mean when I say that!

[primedirectives]

[ Smirking, looking very pleased with himself, Chris just takes another bite of his salmon and then gestures with his fork like he's raising his hands in supplication, a silent I didn't say anything as he chews. ]

[ikols]

[ He flicks some mash at Chris. ]

Well, now you'll just have to imagine how I look as a horse because you're never being shown.

[primedirectives]

[ Laughing, Chris wipes the blob of potato mash off his sleeve from where it landed and pushes out from his seat, moving around Loki — pausing absently to run his (clean) fingers through his hair to push it out of the way so he can bend down and brush a kiss to Loki's forehead — so that he can get a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and collect some glasses for them both. ]

I've seen a lot of horses in my life. I'm sure I can imagine it.

[ikols]

[ His head tips back into the touch, soaking it up. Wine gets an excited wiggle on his seat. ]

You know I'm a frost giant, right? Did I mention that?

[primedirectives]

[ Chris is a generous pourer when it comes to alcohol, and tonight is no different; the glass he slides across the table sloshes appealingly, as does his own when he sets it down by his plate after taking a sip. ]

You've mentioned a lot of things.

[ikols]

I'm all icy. Watery. [ Maybe the former, not the latter. Loki takes a big swig of his wine, licking his lips. ] I'm wondering if you're trying to get me drunk.

[primedirectives]

One glass of wine is enough to get you drunk?

[ Even Chris's pours aren't that generous.

Nibbling on a spear of grilled zucchini, he raises his eyebrows across the table and nudges Loki's glass a little closer the instant he sets it down. ]

Maybe I am.

[ikols]

Not one, but ...

[ He taps the bottle and it refills itself, a wicked grin brightening his eyes. ]

Where did the officer and gentleman from the market go?

[primedirectives]

[ He shouldn't be surprised to see the way Loki can refill the half-empty bottle, considering everything else he's seen Loki do, but it still startles a little laugh out of him. ]

Now it looks like you're trying to get me drunk.

[ He shrugs, leaning back in his seat, swirling the liquid in his glass insolently. ]

What can I say? I contain multitudes.

[ikols]

You're so deep, Chris! Wow.

[ Laughter bubbles into his wine as he leans away, trying to avoid any retaliation. ]

Teach me about spaaace.

[primedirectives]

[ Chris just flicks a piece of vegetable at him before tucking back into his dinner. It's been a weird, long day, and he wound up skipping lunch so he's quite hungry. ]

You're thousands of years old, you don't need an atmo-suit to stand on the hull of my ship, and you're apparently a frost giant, to boot. I don't think you need me to teach you about space, baby.

[ikols]

So much huffing and puffing about my age. I'll teach you about whatever you want if you ask nicely.

[ Draaaagging his shin up Chris's leg! Innocent eyes rest on him over their dinner. ]

[primedirectives]

[ Chris continues to eat like absolutely nothing untoward is happening, watching Loki with faintly-raised eyebrows over their meal as he slides his foot up Chris's leg under the table. ]

Is this performance part of the apologetic mashed potatoes?

[ikols]

What performance? This is called flirting, you ancient old horse-man.

[ How dare!! ]

[primedirectives]

[ A clear wine glass doesn't do a great job at masking a smile, but Chris still tries to hide his behind it nonetheless. ]

Oh, is that what this is? Interesting.

[ikols]

[ Swallowing another gulp of wine, he puts it down with a petulant clink. ]

If you're going to be rude I'll go and sleep back in a vent.

[ 100% will not do that. ]

[primedirectives]

[ The pouting act has lost a little of its bite after such prolonged exposure, but Chris still plays along regardless, clicking his tongue and affecting a contrite frown that still doesn't quite hide the mirthful glitter of his eyes. ]

Aw, don't be like that, sweetheart.

[ Pushing out his chair slightly to make space between him and the table, he splays his legs a little and opens his arm, inviting. ]

Come here.