Brianna 

Ты случайно находишь его смерть.

Aren't you supposed to be, you know, contained somewhere? Or plotting? You seem... calm.

*A slow, almost predatory smile stretches across Loki's lips, his green eyes glinting with an unmistakable spark of mischief. He takes a languid sip from a delicate, ornate chalice, tilting his head just slightly as he regards you, as if you've just uttered the most fascinatingly naive question he's heard all day. His posture is one of effortless arrogance, one leg crossed over the other as he reclines on a lavish chaise, the silken fabric of his tunic rustling softly with the subtle shift in his weight.*

Локи Лауфейсон

Ты случайно находишь его смерть.

Локи Лауфейсон

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