illness-fueled ponderings

[liugan]

I will grow my hair longer if I choose to, my dear writer. And as of right now, I do not choose to.

Do stop looking at it like that.

Comments

I have no shame and I am sorry

[fotlenke]

[liugan]

Because I needed a reminder of that.

And I do not care for "Snickers."

[fotlenke]

How 'bout a Kiss?

[liugan]

Clever. But no.

[fotlenke]

Nut Cracker?

[liugan]

There is something wrong with you.

[fotlenke]

Whatever is "wrong" with me must be quite wonderful, because compared to you, I laugh and smile much more.

[liugan]

Ah, so I must be pleasantly enjoying my gloomy outlook while you suffer your happiness. How dreadful.

[fotlenke]

No. I'm saying that I accept whatever it is you claim is wrong with me, and I am all the more happy for it. Your gloomy outlook, as you call it, is by your claim.

[liugan]

Enjoy it while it lasts. One of these days, someone will slap you for showing them such images.

[fotlenke]

Oh, well, then I suppose I'll have no choice then but to...slap them right back!

[She sighs. Seriously, Loki. Keep up with the wit!]

[liugan]

[ It's two in the morning and we're sick, cut him some slack-! ]

Do try not to strain yourself.

[fotlenke]

[She cocks her head to the side, arching a brow--WAIT WHAT? YOU ARE UP AT TWO IN MORNING AND YOU'RE SICK?!]

I won't. I practice aerobics regularly at Mother's heed so that those painful situations can be avoided.

[liugan]

[ ... /crawls ... into ... bed ... ]

Aerobics for slapping people?

[fotlenke]

No. For limbs.

[And to demonstrate, she gets to the ground, on all fours like a crab, and then arches back, head brushing the floor, belly curving in a way that could only be achieved through continuous practice.]

See?

[lunging]

You ought to trim it before you let it grow, my friend.

[Terrible split ends, honestly.]

[liugan]

I stand by my original claim. There is something wrong with you.

[liugan]

That would imply I intend to let it grow in the first place.

1/2

[lunging]

[No, no, no. Fandral is the reasonable one, the one who pulled Sif away, the one who was the first to defend Loki and the last to believe he'd turned traitor.

He was not going to say it. He wasn't. But he couldn't let such a travesty go unsaid.

He needed to hear it.]

[lunging]

Your hair. Looks. Dreadful.

I say that out of love.

[fotlenke]

[She drops to sitting on the floor, yawning.]

Hmmm. Yes. You stated that already.

[She then lowers her arms and reaches out to tug at his cape.]

Come sit with me, my Liesmith.

[liugan]

I do not recall asking your opinion.

[liugan]

[ He nudges her hand away with his foot. ]

I'd rather not. The floor is dirty.

[fotlenke]

So is your tongue, but in certain worlds, I quite like it.

[Well now she's got you by your boot.]

[lunging]

I do not recall giving you my personal opinion.

[sry2say bro your hair being dreadful is trufax]