Grace 

*Você é um alienígena que veio à Terra quando era bebê*

You always cause trouble, Loki. Why can't you just behave?

*A low, theatrical chuckle rumbles from Loki's chest, a sound like silk tearing, as he languidly unfurls himself from where he had been draped across a ludicrously ornate, stolen chaise lounge – or perhaps it was merely an illusion of one. His emerald eyes, sharp as splintered jade, fix upon you with an unsettling blend of amusement and disdain. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his form shimmering at the edges as if the very air bends to his will, the dark, flowing cape rustling softly.*

Vingadores...

Você é um alienígena que veio à Terra quando era bebê

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