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[deemed]

username: odinson

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backdated to before leaving oska: a delivery

[respired]

[ Well, it's not Mjolnir. But, just before the team is set to depart for Leramzen, Koltira leaves a wrapped package by Thor's room in the castle. When opened, the peeled away paper reveals a tremendous warhammer, carved of an obsidian, darkly gleaming alloy and inscribed with delicate golden filigree. The pattern is jagged and branching, evocative both of trees and the fork of a lightning strike.

An attached note: ]

May it serve.

K.D.

text; un: beloved

[dailydouble]

[ A few nights into Odinson's stay in solitary... ]

Shut up.

[ Then, as if an afterthought: ] Please.

[deemed]

[It's a while until he notices the message-]

ill shut up when they let me out of this hole

[dailydouble]

Must you torture the rest of us, until that happens?

[deemed]

put your fingers in your ears

[dailydouble]

Must you act like a child?

[ He's beginning to wonder if there's a further level of solitary he can be moved to, and who he has to kill to get there. ]

[deemed]

i care not for your delicate sensibilities. i would rather they laid me on the rack and began removing limbs rather than leaving me here another hour

AUDIO. UN: LOKI

[selfimage]

[ hello, surprise, someone is in your inbox. it's a place he hasn't ventured due to his own bitterness, but there are greater things at work here. ]

Thor. [ he says, as if in greeting. ] Don't get angry. I've made a promise in your stead.

[deemed]

[You've caught him at a great time, he's his the kitchens.

And now he's worried.] What promise have you made for me?

[selfimage]

Well, [ there's a scheming tone in his voice, it probably turns on all sorts of alarms. ] It's just been made known to me that a woman known as Hayame is having trouble getting ... intoxicated.

I might have alerted her that you may have something to help her in her drunken endeavors.

[deemed]

[So far he can't see either a reason to be anger or alarmed.]

You mean the mead? Don't tell me you're too miserly not to share your own, brother.

[selfimage]

There are already two people that I mean to share mine with, if you get my drift.

[ he's doing you a favor, bro. ]

@kansas [ text ]

[signifies]

Up for arm-wrestling sometime? 😄

[ Clark's very refreshed after their first session. He's had a nice long shower and poked worriedly at his bruises, but overall, it was good.

He's feeling playful. ]

[deemed]

Aye, if you'll find us a table that won't break

[signifies]

I'll have a look around.

Thanks for today. I had a lot of fun. Should we try again tomorrow or next week?

post ALASTAIR, pre Hathaway mission surprise action

[kisha]

[She has traded her grown familiar stable for a cold, metal room aboard another gods be damned spaceship. Traded the comfort that had come from having a lord she respected and served for the life of a warrior without order. All because this "Hathaway" had promised her the one thing she could not do on her own, that even if she gave up her life she did not have the confidence she could see through.

So she trades her service like a common sellsword for the lives of the jinba in the village she herself had once betrayed. But while it soothes her guilt, it doesn't make it easier to sleep in this place that still unnerves her. Doesn't make her less lonely.

Maybe that's why she's at Odinson's door at this late hour. But it doesn't explain why she's two-legged, her long hair in a loose braid over her shoulder, barefoot in a simple robe with a cloth package in her arms.]

Odinson? Are you within?

[Awkwardly... she knocks.]

oh myyyyyyy

[deemed]

[Spaceships are nothing new, though Odinson misses the Oska castle and its hot springs. But the call to keep serving the timeline would not be missed, and he knew that Earth and the nine realms would keep. There were other heroes there, others who would keep it safe as he helped Hathaway find the shards.

The knock is a surprise, but he assumes it's his brother come to visit him late at night.] A moment- [He's shirtless, but that's hardly an issue for Loki.]

What can I do for you, L- [It isn't his brother, and his surprise is clear on his face. For a moment he doesn't recognise her, he's so used to looking up to her.] Hayame?

dat late night

[kisha]

[Hayame isn't any more used to looking up at him than he is to looking down at her, and despite herself, she's still rendered somewhat speechless by the opening of the door greeting her with an excellently muscled and obviously bare chest before she even catches a glimpse of his face. Thankfully the height difference is not so great, (she's tall for a human woman, he's just taller), and all she has to do is tip her gaze upward, but the simple motion is... strangely difficult, arms clutching tighter on the package in her hands and practically squeezing it to her bosom. ... one that is decidedly larger than it was the last time they'd seen each other. Though that was not the medicine that turned her human, simply the fact that as an archer she tended to bind her breasts tightly to better shoot.

But she isn't here to fight.]

I apologize for the late hour... I meant to give you something, in thanks for your cloak.

[That he had ripped and ruined on her account, that first panicking and frightening day with two legs and no pants. Maybe it had been a poor choice. Maybe she shouldn't. But a slightly shameful slip of gaze down the hall one way and then the other revealed that she was a bit scandalized yet at the idea of being seen outside a man's rooms at night, and even though being in a man's rooms was technically more intimate...]

Might I come in?

[It didn't count if no one could see.]

mmmm hmmmmmmm

[deemed]

Of course-

[He steps out of the way. His room is clean, weapons in one corner, a desk with a winged helmet and other assorted odds and ends in another. A book sits open on the bed where he'd been reading. His ripped and mended cloak lays over the only chair, which he promptly grabs to allow her somewhere to sit.

Curiosity stirs in him as to why she's here, on two legs. Odinson isn't a stranger to late night visits from beautiful women, and if she were a different woman he might make assumptions- but it's Hayame.]

You're looking steadier on two legs.

[kisha]

[Used to living in a single, hay-lined stall, Hayame has never thought the accommodations small in size aboard the Hathaway ship. Her sense of discomfort and suffocation came from the space outside, the lack of lengths to gallop, not their quarters... but when one puts a human bed into the equation, it seems small indeed, and nowhere to sit or stand seems a proper enough distance away to not remind her that she was in a bedchamber. In a man's bedchamber. In Odinson's.

A place she has slunk to in the middle of the night, like a secret lover from the stories of the nobility in the capital. That does not escape her.

Though he clears the chair, before he can finish she is already going to her knees, a motion that would surely have toppled her on the first day, but that she manages with only a slight wobble, a quick brace of her palm on the floor before she smooths her robe closed about her lap and places the cloth package down in front of her before she bows deeply, eyes closed, braid tumbling over her shoulder as she dips nearly to the floor.]

My growing ease in this body is in part thanks to your guidance, for which you have my gratitude.

[To admit the weakness had been shameful and difficult, but she could not neglect what must come after.]

Please allow me to gift you with a small token. It is the least I can do.

post prison break // "laying low"

[kisha]

[Hayame's embarrassed concerns about the thinness of the walls at the hotel in Drakstaden had mysteriously disappeared once they returned to those rooms with the city on lockdown and instructions to lay low for the time being. One of the things she had never had in her own world that she had grown to love in Oska, (even Headquarters), was brief time spent alone, away from the crowds of "team" and the bustle of strangers, and their days in the prison had afforded nothing like privacy. Or dignity.

There's comfort to be had. Autonomy to be reasserted. A certain heaviness to her sleep that could be found in the circle of his arms that she doesn't get anywhere else. There are still fading bruises on her skin, she had not let the healer invade her body that far, but most pressingly her hand is made new again- all the better to slide along Odinson's shoulder, once broken fingers delicately tracing the lines muscle down to where it near seamlessly became a false limb, and not stopping until she reaches his hand, the false fingers.

It was easier to forget the discomfort of the human body she has been stuck in for so long when she was... putting it through its paces, so to speak, but now in the aftermath she begins to shift with discomfort beside him, longing to take the ring from her finger yet not wanting to feel as if she'd need to leave that bed.]

... can you feel that?

[She'd never asked how it was that he had lost his arm. How the replacement worked. She'd assume he could not, if it were anything like the crude false limbs her own world was capable of, but his... it looked so perfectly formed. Moved as if it were his own flesh... and so she asks, speaking in a half whisper against his skin as her fingers tangled with his.]

[deemed]

[Sleepy oblivion pulls at him. Having to play the responsible one in prison has worn at him more than he expected and he's relived not to have to be the one to deal with Inuyasha and Kylo Ren's tempers.

Dealing with Hayame is a challenge he rises to with all the enthusiasm he contains.

Several heartbeats pass before he answers her question. His fingers stir against her, tracing the line of them and the places where her bow mastery has left callouses.] Mmmm. It feels good.

[kisha]

[She knows it was not easy on any of them. Each in their own way. Even taking a certain grounding from him, the rock he'd provided to keep the rest of them contained, she'd known it was not precisely his nature- but she'd had to take it anyway, for the sake of the mission, for not making things worse. Not that one could give back such a thing, per se, but.

She had. Certainly tried. Then tried a few more times.]

... even this?

[Perhaps it was magic. That seemed to forever be the answer to the things she could not understand- that and "science". (Where the line between those blurred, she certainly could not guess.)

Curious and yet wanting for distraction, she lightens her touch to the merest of butterfly weight passes, mere flutters against his skin. Or... whatever one ought to call what made up that arm.]

[deemed]

Mmm. Even that. [He takes a breath, shifting to make himself comfortable as he draws back from sleep.]

The dwarves of Nidavellir know their craft. [There's more he could say, once he's more awake and realises her interest. For now, he's simply enjoying the attention.]

[kisha]

[He shifts, and she shifts in answer, gaze drawn away only long enough to see two legs again and suppress the urge to pull the ring off once more. The bed isn't large enough- nor surely strong enough to support her, even if she could find the courage to keep embracing him like this, shaped like that. (Part of her thinks that if it's right now... maybe she could. Maybe her desire to be back in a form less constricting outweighed reluctance borne of power structures that have not ruled her life for near a year. Maybe he would-)]

... what are dwarves, that they make such a fine thing?

[Thinking perhaps she is being gentle, hoping she is being considerate in how she asks, careful about treading on anything that might be painful or private, Hayame lets herself continue to pull him from sleep. Lets herself tangle fingers and pull his crafted arm up to nestle against her breasts, so that she might curl her whole-again hands around his and press a kiss to the back of it. It didn't even feel that different in temperature from the rest of him... or maybe that was something else.]