to app @ witchesreign

[fotlenke]

Let's not get too wrapped up in the details. I am going to be a student, is that right? So let us ignore the large flying machines that can shoot from mid-air. Actually, let us not. Put it aside...we are focusing on what I can bring to the academy if I am to be accepted.

And, no, lessons in Dwarven curses is not applicable. Don't you try that teasing attitude. It works with Loki, not you.

Comments

[lunging]

Well, at least he's got something going for him these days.

[fotlenke]

[Flick to your forehead.]

Stop that. He may be an ornery, rude and sometimes inconsiderate...but I love him.

[lunging]

[HOW DARE YOU
THAT IS THE FINEST FOREHEAD IN ALL THE REALMS!
HE WILL HAVE TO MOISTURIZE DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY GERMS AND OILY NASTINESS A FINGERTIP CARRIES?]

You're young. I'm sure you can find a cow who'll...do you better.

[fotlenke]

How descriptive. I believe I have heard that statement spoken from the mouths of the women you've wooed.

[lunging]

I'm not the one who turns into animals, curious about pregnancy.

[fotlenke]

Are you hearing yourself speak, Fandral the Brave? Are you not a sworn warrior of Asgard? Are you not bound to Thor, Prince of Asgardia, in friendship?

[lunging]

[omg
why do you know everything
have you been watching him

DO YOU HAVE TEA WITH HEIMDALL?]

Aye, I am. But you are so young and there are already many children for you to care for. [because no one else does boohoo] Are you sure you can handle that challenge?

[fotlenke]

Fandral...are you honestly thinking that my love for Loki will lead me to immediate pregnancy? And do you think that by having Loki's child, I will be laid to eventual ruin?

[careful with your words, now. she's got that look that Njord wears right before he executes an enemy.]

[lunging]

[what no]

No, not at all. I only meant that there is the wolf, the horse, the serpent, and she of Hel as of now. Can you care for all of them?

[fotlenke]

If Loki so wishes me to, yes.

[lunging]

[why is the descendent of Freya so sweet and kind
this goes against everything he's supposed to be prejudiced against gdit]

Then I wish you luck.

Also, Dwarvish is a terrible language to learn, isn't it?

[fotlenke]

[She beams at his comprehension. It deserves something. She rushes over to him and give a full-on tackle-hug courtesy of learning from her dear sister, Syn.]

Not at all. It is mainly the clicks and clucks, like metal upon metal.

[lunging]

[Aha, oh gosh. Usually women run into his arms and clasp their legs around his waist while laughing or purring with desire. Not Sigyn! No, not the future wife of once-friend Loki of the Silver Tongue. She's a curious thing, but he grabs her up tightly with a heavy laugh before spinning her about and letting her rest upon his arm if she wants, not unlike a bird.]

Isn't there a nicer language to speak foul words in?

[fotlenke]

[Sigyn squeals with laughter, cheeks flushed with joy.]

Ha! Any language sounds far more pleasant when you've not learned its translations.

[lunging]

Oh, you have heard every language in the Nine Realms? You are a linguist, Sigyn?

[fotlenke]

I have heard languages of Midgard. Do not overestimate my brilliance. [She is a bird, hanging onto his arm, pretty mug just hanging there.] But, yes, I know of many languages.

[lunging]

[And then Sigyn became a bro.]

Well, don't be too smug now; it's unbecoming a lady!

[fotlenke]

[she is totes a bro.]

How many times must I tell you noble warriors? I am no lady. I am a Vanir.

[lunging]

[he will be in the back of the wedding giving thumbs ups fo sho]

Little Lady Vanir?

[fotlenke]

[Before or after she mops the floor with Agent Coulson?]

Not quite.

[lunging]

[what no
son of coul is a cool guy and deals with a lot of shit okay
he deserves a vacation]

Little Vanir.

[fotlenke]

[Easy. More like...poker. C'mon. You'd pay to see Sigyn mop the floor with him in poker.]

Allllmost.

[lunging]

[Only if Fandral is allowed to take bets!]

Itty Vanir.

[fotlenke]

[Betting oreo cookies and milkshakes!]

You were closer with the first one.

[lunging]

Tiny Vanir!

[STOP MAKING HIM GUESS HE IS NO GOOD AT THIS]