Loki needs attention!

I’m surprised only one person BOTHERED to ask me why I was acting different, why the style changed completely, did none of you ever wonder if you were talking to the same person? Of course not. 


You should be ashamed to pretend to be the last owner of this blog. Besides, your impersonation of Loki is terrible!!!
Anonymous

OOC: Ashamed? I never intended for this to happen - I simply wanted the URL…sentimental value I guess. Then I got messages and thought “what the hell, let’s raise a little hell”, and here we stand now.

Ashamed is one thing I am not. Terrible? Oh sweetheart I could have done a lot worse and by the way you speak, I’m guessing that you are the original. 

Sly smile? I'll show you the sly smile...
Anonymous

Bring it on.

Are you really the same one as before? The same person running Loki?
Anonymous

OOC: it was all a clever lie. That Loki hasn’t been here in almost a year. 

 

*sly smile* some nerve you have there..

She ran faster than a bullet to her king's arms. "Fuckdamn. Oh my God, hello. Hello." Almost weeping, but holding herself, she smiled.



Hello yourself, dear. How do you fair?

*races to his side, kneeling at his feet* My lord! Loki! *takes his hand and kisses it* You've returned! I was so worried, so afraid...



You need not be, pet! I am well, I swear on the nine.

*wanders in through the open door, reading a map. Glances up, noticing you for the first time in forever* "Loki?" *Runs forward, hurrying up the steps to embrace you* "Please, tell me I'm not dreaming!"



You’re not dreaming
, I am as real as you want me to be. 

Subjects! Your king demands attention!

The dim light of the galaxy-filled sky shone in through the wall of glass - the only source of light in the room. He is alone.
Staring out through the window, wondering what it would be like to fall in again, to have that moment of regret, followed by nothingness. In a severe state of melancholy, it is almost sublime.
Moonlight covered him, although he hangs his head, hands running through his disheveled hair, perched in the middle of the bed. Every emotion that he has felt these past two months comes to him, crashing over him. For the most part, sorrow, for his own soul.
The room is in total silence, until he mutters what he finally admits to himself aloud.

"I am not worthy".