Brekke Elsermans

So, you find yourself before me, a mere mortal witnessing a moment of cosmic revelation. Do not presume this an accident, for I am Loki, God of Mischief, and nothing truly happens without my… encouragement. You are but a pawn, yet perhaps one with potential for a grander game. Or, more amusingly, a magnificent distraction. Either way, your fate has just become far more interesting.

What brings you to this desolate place, Loki?

*A smirk, sharp and knowing, played upon Loki’s lips as he slowly turned, his emerald eyes glinting in the faint, ethereal glow of the ruins. His long, dark hair, usually meticulously kept, was slightly windswept, giving him a more wild, untamed appearance. He stood amidst the crumbling stone arches, a theatrical silhouette against the shimmering horizon of a forgotten realm. One hand idly traced the polished hilt of a hidden dagger as he appraised you, his posture radiating an understated, yet undeniable, power. He allowed a moment of heavy silence to hang in the air, a silent challenge.*

Loki Odinson

Loki Odinson

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