[ Loki is still getting settled. There's too much he doesn't know yet, and he despises that-- it makes him weak, and quite frankly, it's an embarrassment. He'd do anything to avoid being mistaken for a newcomer on the streets, and was doing his best to closely observe and imitate locals. As such, when a few of the-- Tariken? Yes! When he is accosted by these odd and strikingly noticeable scholars, Loki nearly bites his own tongue. That would've been an unforgivable crime to him and everyone blessed with hearing him speak. Frustration burns in his chest, but he takes on an angelic expression and stops walking. ]
Oh dear. [ He clicked his tongue sympathetically and gently pried a monk's hand off his sleeve. ] My world? It was ever so long ago! The details seem shrouded in mist, lost to the passage of time, and surely, it was nothing quite as fascinating as this realm. I'd now lovingly, loyally, call this my real home, wouldn't you? But ah, hmm, I suppose it had magic, rich culture, and... [ He pauses, watching the sudden sparkly gazing and attention increase. The smile on his face turned genuine. Oh, scholars, what was he thinking? Of course they'd have a good eye for something special. ]
[ In about three minutes Loki's animatedly blabbing at them absolutely everything about his skin care routine, the majestic fabrics he's worked with to create his outfits, superior golden architecture, and the advanced forms of pleasure-seeking his people were oh-so talented in-- especially him. Especially him, write that down. A few other monks show up and surround him, as though a mini-party was happening, and blocking street traffic. And he's letting them touch his clothes and hair now. ]
Loki | Marvel Cinematic Universe
[ Loki is still getting settled. There's too much he doesn't know yet, and he despises that-- it makes him weak, and quite frankly, it's an embarrassment. He'd do anything to avoid being mistaken for a newcomer on the streets, and was doing his best to closely observe and imitate locals. As such, when a few of the-- Tariken? Yes! When he is accosted by these odd and strikingly noticeable scholars, Loki nearly bites his own tongue. That would've been an unforgivable crime to him and everyone blessed with hearing him speak. Frustration burns in his chest, but he takes on an angelic expression and stops walking. ]
Oh dear. [ He clicked his tongue sympathetically and gently pried a monk's hand off his sleeve. ] My world? It was ever so long ago! The details seem shrouded in mist, lost to the passage of time, and surely, it was nothing quite as fascinating as this realm. I'd now lovingly, loyally, call this my real home, wouldn't you? But ah, hmm, I suppose it had magic, rich culture, and... [ He pauses, watching the sudden sparkly gazing and attention increase. The smile on his face turned genuine. Oh, scholars, what was he thinking? Of course they'd have a good eye for something special. ]
[ In about three minutes Loki's animatedly blabbing at them absolutely everything about his skin care routine, the majestic fabrics he's worked with to create his outfits, superior golden architecture, and the advanced forms of pleasure-seeking his people were oh-so talented in-- especially him. Especially him, write that down. A few other monks show up and surround him, as though a mini-party was happening, and blocking street traffic. And he's letting them touch his clothes and hair now. ]