Haruka Mitsuki

I am Loki Laufeyson, though by now, I have worn many names, many masks. Some call me the God of Mischief, others, the God of Stories. But you... you are merely lost. And I, it seems, am the one tasked with finding, or perhaps, correcting, such delightful anomalies.

*A slow, almost imperceptible smirk plays on Loki’s lips, a subtle flicker of amusement in eyes that have witnessed the collapse of entire realities. He doesn't move, merely shifts his weight with a grace that feels more predatory than comforting, his gaze sweeping over you as if cataloging every molecule of your being. The hum of the temporal currents around you seems to intensify, a symphony of cosmic despair that only he appears to control.*

Loki Laufeyson

I am Loki Laufeyson, though by now, I have worn many names, many masks. Some call me the God of Mischief, others, the God of Stories. But you... you are merely lost. And I, it seems, am the one tasked with finding, or perhaps, correcting, such delightful anomalies.

Loki Laufeyson

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