#FRIENDLY THORRESPONDENCE

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

*slaps your butt* pass it on the the next 5 people on your dash.

GREETINGS BROTH -

YOU ARE NOT MY BROTHER! [ Suplexes. ]

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

(( I saw you RP with Arty and I just thought I should let you know my version of Sif is male ^^' Though I know the war god is female, I've always played DaS Sif as a male. ))

ooc: oh yes, i know! it's just that she confused the sif that artorias referred to for her friend, sif from the marvel-verse and from mythology, since she just heard the name and got a bit confused!

sorry if that was confusing - XD

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

*slaps your butt* pass it on to the next 5 people that appear to your dash

A MOST JOVIAL MIDGARDIAN GREETING - WHAT AN AUSPICIOUS MID-EVE GRACE!

AYE, I SHALL DO AS YOU SAY AT ONCE!

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

Thor what are you doing? {Tony steps closer to herTthe fire in the room is making everything so hot, he nearly feels his skin melt.} Why is it so hot in here?

[ The grin shatters and she gains a panicked expression, quickly shoving the breastplate behind the forge and out of sight as she steps forward, beginning to push him away - not violently, but firmly. Her hands burn to touch, and she quickly removes them from him, using her forearms instead. ]

Friend Tony, I beg of you, come no closer! The flames of Asgard's forges bear the seed of Múspellsheimr - it shall surely sear your flesh to ash!

[ Once she's shoved him back a sufficient distance - that is, to the doorway - she stops, barring the path with her impressive arms and broad figure - which is all the more visible for the fact that she's not clad in her usual armour, but sweating profusely only in her greaves and breast-bindings, her short-shorn hair clinging to her head. ]

I am forging, but of course! Might I assist you whilst the fire yet burns?

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

Hey Thor~

[ Startled, she jumps a good several feet in the air, and hurriedly hides whatever it was she was so engrossed in forging that she did not so much as suspect his presence behind her back.

The smithy-fire burns ungodly hot, veiling the air with a haze of heat, and she grins, for the metal, burning though it is, does not scald her. ]

Greetings to you, shield-brother!

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

Poptarts or a slice of the most yummy pie of your choice.

PIE, FOR A SINGLE SLICE HAS THE BOLD FLAVOR OF A HUNDRED TARTS OF A POP!

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

stag of stars omg i get it you're hilarious

ooc: are you being sarcas -

thank you, even if you are, mystery anon XD

nowait

i should have called it the flying stag

or the sky-traveler stag

how about

shit

the BIFRÖST STAG

but that would be too obscure

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

loki and tony had a fight. they ended up killing each other.

From Asgard the thunderer came, bearing gifts: mead, her favorite mead, honeyed and spiced and bursting with the juice of blackcurrant. Tony would have grinned, patted her on the back. Tony would have taken a single sip and nearly collapsed from the strength of it, and there would have been laughter - there would have been drink - there would have been happiness, and life.

She falls from the sky, and smoke chokes her lungs; a burst of speed. An omen. Thick arms clutch their burden tighter.

And Stark Tower is ruined. Stark Tower burns; the thunderer cries out in shock and despair and terror, all the things a protector must never know the pain of seeing, all the fears and failures that have chased her come true, and heedless of the flames she claws her way inside, through the glass and wreckage. Her eyes sting with tears, inflammed by the ash.

Two bodies. It is nearly too much. Her cape blackens, devoured by the flames, and she unclasps it as fire scalds her flesh and the air becomes thin and she will be in such pain after this, she will know such pain, such grief -

"Valhalla," she whispers, kneeling and laying their bodies upon the green grass, side-by-side. Mortal eyes watch. Mortal lips do not speak, just as these two, her friend and her brother, will never speak again, never see again, never know the comfort of their love or hers.

She crosses their arms over their chests, tears away Tony's golden mask and closes their eyes, and wipes away the blood and the soot through the veil of her own tears. There is still so much to be done, to be said...

When Tony is buried, he is anointed by the sweetest mead and crowned by the diadem of a prince.

When Loki is burned, it is by lightning, and his sister's heart burns with him.

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

Nine steps, sister. Nine steps.

I - I am no kinslayer, and yet - to think - nay, to know that -

Perhaps this time I shall make ten, and you shall call me sister again. Promise me that, even if 'tis as we lay bleeding worlds away.

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

(Uh. Hi. I've been stalking your blog for a while... Aha... maybe we can RP sometime?)

ooc: i would love to, but right now, i'm really very sorry... i'm not sure if it's entirely advisable, for i already have too many threads that i have much difficulty keeping up on. i couldn't promise i would prioritize you even if you were so kind as to post a starter, or for it to be simple one-liners/single-para, because that i just have so many i literally have difficulty even remembering to check for the replies i am owed, much less to reply to those i owe. and since i can't promise that, i would rather not at the moment, simply because that that kind of treatment doesn't live up to my standards of etiquette. if i'm going to rp with you, then i want to be able to do you the service of not half-assing it and replying well and promptly, so i think i must decline.

but you know what? i have been stalking your blog too, and i've also wanted us to interact for the longest time! but... i just... please understand, it's not that i don't want to rp with you, but that i want to be able to better respect both you and the partners i already have than i would be able to if i added more partners/threads. ;w; i'm soooo sorry!

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

"Air, air!" Clint choked, poking her side.

"Air -"

A blink, confused and almost endearing in the innocence of that confusion. And then it clicked into place - one could almost see the lightbulb flaring.

"Ah!" Clint found himself released, tumbling to the floor beside her. "Please, accept my greatest apologies! You mortals are forever struggling to find their breath - 'tis so easily misplaced!"

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

((hey! I just wanted to tell you, by the way, that I really really enjoy your writing style. It's great fun to read your posts and I just grope air at the quality. *^*))

ooc: sCREAMS why would you saythat I DON'T DESERVE.... auuugh your writing is so beautiful and quality and i love your loki i love her okay i don't even care GAH just perfect and i love reading your posts tooooo i'm so glad i found you!

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

Excuse me.. for I am too shy to post out of Anon. I love your account and your role playing ability. Sorry...! ♥

GOOD FACE OF GREY, THERE IS NO REASON TO FEAR ME - NOR MY MORTAL COMPANION!

JUST AS WE HAVE TOGETHER STRIVEN, THROUGH WAR AND PEACE, THROUGH THE STORM AND THROUGH THE BEAMING, BEATING SUN, TO SHARE THE SOUL'S GLORY IN THE PRACTISE OF ARTS MOST OBSCURE TO YOUR KIND - SO SHOULD YOU GREET EACH DAWN, NOT WITH TIMIDITY, BUT WITH TEMERITY, AND GILD YOUR NAME UPON THE HEARTS OF MAN!

THOUGH I KNOW NOT YOUR FACE NOR YOUR NAME, 'TWOULD BE THE GREATEST HONOUR TO RECEIVE THE FRIENDSHIP OF SUCH A BRAVE AND GENEROUS BEING AS YOU. KNOW THAT KIND WORDS ARE AS PRECIOUS AS THE STARS, SUFFUSING THE EVE WITH GENTLE LIGHT, AND THOSE WHO TRADE IN GRACES ARE FOREVER WELCOME IN THE HOUSE OF ODIN.

I WOULD THAT YOU BUT SHARE YOUR NAME, SO MY PEOPLE MAY REMEMBER YOUR BENEFICENCE.

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

Hey Gloriytits, it's been a while!

"TRUESIGHT!"

And just like that, she drops the phone that she had been so diligently taking gratuitous self-portraits with and bull-rushes the archer, not hugging him so much as swooping upon him and carrying him off in her arms like a bird of prey - ironically enough.

Oh, gods. Her grip squeezes all the breath out of his lungs as she drops to the floor and rolls about like a puppy.

"How I have missed you - as the sky has missed the earth! 'Tis good to see you yet grace the realm of the living!"

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

"You have also grown as well...!"

She turned, a greeting smile already finding its way to her face without will or consent, as if her heart had known the presence before her mind had dared to speculate -

"Broth - !

You are -"

And the smile was replaced by an open-mouthed frown of surprise... and consternation. "You are but a babe!"

[sweetmeatsnotfiends-blog]

While that was most certainly a nice example of well kept feet, that's not quite what I meant. Let me rephrase it then, what are your particular grooming habits when it comes to the hair that grows at the juncture of your thighs. Do you shave? Trim? Let it flow wildly untamed?

- WHAT?

WHY WOULD I SHEAR AWAY MY - NAY, SURELY NOT!

WHAT WOULD DRIVE A MAN OR MAIDEN TO SUCH ABOMINABLE SELF-AFFLICTION AS TO DO HARM UPON THE VERY CROWNING GLORY OF THEIR FERTILE LOINS?

I DO NOT WISH TO SHAVE OR TRIM THE HAIR OF MY WOMANHOOD!

I WISH TO STAY RESPLENDENTLY TRESSED AND LIBERATE MY MANE TO FLOW IN THE WIND AS I GALLOP THROUGH THE FOREST DOING BATTLE WITH ALL THAT WOULD SHAME MINE HIRSUTE GLORY!