selfimage: — ɢᴀʀʙᴇᴛᴛ — (Dumpster laughs.)
nerd baby ([personal profile] selfimage) wrote 2016-07-31 01:43 am (UTC)

[ there's a swell of his chest as he sighs and loses. Daenerys 1, Loki 0.

Bacon has to be handed off to Ahad, and the bubble baby reaches its stubby little hands toward him again. while Loki would, perhaps, take it with him, it's been proven more than once that neither Bacon nor Eggs are terribly fond of teleportation. with a quiet shush, Loki tells it that he'll be back shortly.

the sorcery is the easy part. by now he knows Daenerys well enough to find her signature, trace it, and work out the details in less than a few minutes. bright green tendrils lick around his fingers, and with a low mutter of a word in an old tongue, he flickers out of sight in the cave (leaving Bacon distressed).

when he appears there's always a moment of distortion. the fabric of reality ripples and has to adjust accordingly. the tendrils curl around his fingers and around his elbow. the harsh winds blowing his hair and his jacket and every which direction, but with Loki's weight, he's well anchored.
]

Oh, yuck. It's a little windy out here, hm?

[ he has to shield the side of his face from the storm, keeping the sand from his eyes. ]

Hello!

[ see? not a slouch. ]

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