Does Mun have another account that she uses? I'm not a roleplayer - so I didn't respond to your deactivation thing although your roleplaying is amazing - but I like conversing with Mun occasionally as an Anon~~ Or leaving comments or whatever. :3c
((All my active acccounts are listed below:
I posted a thing on here regarding if anyone would care if I deactivated.
Out of 722 of you, only 2 replied to it.
Which tells me that 720 of you don’t really care one way or another and so…
I’m putting this account on a mostly-permanent hiatus.
What does that mean?
It means that I am essentially deactivating without deactivating. This account will be here, but mostly gone.
Should anyone want me to return, let me know via inbox. I will check in every so often, but rarely.
[ooc] Would anyone miss this account if I deactivated it?
[ooc] Semi- Hiatus
Due to school getting crazy-intense, I need to take some time off of Tumblr. I’m really sorry…
This will also go for:
“We are not. But you and… my other self are. Her name is Poison and she’s a serial killer and enemy of the Avengers.”
“And what of you? Is it your aim to fight the Avengers, or do you wish to be on the side of the angels?” It was an expression he had overheard many times on Midgard and, after a while, he’d grown rather fond of it.
“I want to be good. I am good. I want to wipe everything she has done away. I just need a way to do it.”
“Then you must prove it to the realms. If you truly wish to be good… then you must show it.”
“Do some good. Perhaps fight alongside SHIELD, or aid in the taking down of a villain…” the thunderer mused.
“Sister… What are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you the same question.”
“I guess you could say wandering.”
“You do not wonder, my sibling. You plan, you plot… you trick. What are you really up to?”
“Your words wound me, brother.”
“I do not need to explain my intentions to you, they are mine and mine alone.”
“They involve me if they involve Midgard and, seeing as you are here, I have a feeling that this realm is involved. Tell me the truth.” His fingers clenched a little tighter around Mjolnir, knuckles paling.
The thunderer raised an eyebrow at the chuckling jotuns, restraining every urge to strike them down for their cruelness. Still, knowing that he was already on thin ice (no pun intended), he decided against it and, with an incredible amount of control on his part, followed the prince into the palace.
It was grand, to say the least, though it did little to impress the god who had grown up in a castle of gold. The walls were carved out of pure ice, arching up toward a tall ceiling, engraved with intricate designs. Thor found himself admiring the building itself before remembering he was there for a purpose, for marriage.
“Perhaps you wish to inform your father before you issue your intent to challenge my father for my hand,” Loki said casually, eyeing Thor as he ogled the architecture. “We don’t need to give Odin any more reason to oppress our realm, should you be injured.”
The very notion that Laufey would be able to injure him made the thunderer laugh and yet, he knew the prince was right. “I will be sure to inform him, though knowing my father, he already knows what has transpired here. Am I to assume that means that I can stay the night on Jotunheim?”
askthunderthor came to visit!
The information boggled his mind for a moment. Never in all of the nine realms would he have imagined that the Tesseract could take such a form, especially right under their noses. To have fooled him, and even Odin, was an impressive feat. That being said, he had to ensure that she remained safe, especially from his brother. “I am here in response to a disturbance. It would seem that a being far more powerful than my brother or even Thanos has made itself known, and it is my job to investigate it. Maybe… you’ve heard of him? I have been told he goes by Mephistopheles.”
Tess scoured through her centuries of memories and finally came across a similar. “Mephisto? He takes over souls, or that’s what I’m understanding. Is all well? Why would he be here, where the souls are weak, instead of elsewhere?” She tilted her head at him for a moment, before scanning the area, blinking slowly to assess every person that passed them by. “It is probably best to discuss this elsewhere, yes?” she tried, gesturing in a general direction to start walking.
Thor nodded in agreement and followed her without another word. Once in a deserted alleyway, he spoke once again. “The souls here are strong, but rumor has it that he has taken vessel, allowing him to travel wherever he wishes to. That… could be disastrous for all of us, should he be able to gain a body of his own.”
m!a: sick | closed | askthunderthor
“Is that not what brothers do?” came the automatic reply in a deep, thundering voice as the god moved about the kitchen with surprising ease. After his betrayal on Jotunheim, the shameful war they had just barely managed to avoid, Thor had spent nearly two years on Midgard, learning their ways and, of course, their technologies. Rather skilled at it now, he flitted about the kitchen with surprising grace: filling the kettle, turning on the stove, and obtaining a mug and tea bag of mint chamomile to steep later. Once that was set and all there was to do was wait for the water to boil, he got to work on his next task.
The soup was a little more complicated. So, as he worked, he spoke. “I know you think it foolish, stupid of me to even care, Loki, but whether you want to accept it or not, we were raised as brothers. You may have seen yourself as a shadow, but I saw you as my brother… and that will never change. It is my honor to aid you in a time of need.” He spoke the words with a new eloquence, one that had developed as King of Asgard over the years. After Laufey had been killed, Loki had taken his place on the throne of Jotunheim and, once or twice, the two had contacted one another. But between the distance and near-enemy realms, the brothers had drifted apart.
“Do you know how long it will last…? Is it a cold or something far worse?” he inquired, realizing he was rambling to a god who was likely asleep by that point.
Liege listened in silence as his brother spoke. The other sounded like a king, and it made Liege’s teeth grind together—he was a King, too, though of a far less sophisticated realm. Still, he had a natural elegance to his speech. Why was he letting himself be made to feel inferior?
“T’is not foolish of you, my Brother,” he replied in a scratchy voice. “T’is only what you were raised to do.”
He fiddled with his thumbs in the silence that followed. The distance between the two had put an awkward cold in their relationship. It had been an easy, fun one before…all that. Now it was strained, even more so since the brothers had taken opposite thrones.
“Fourteen hours,” he answered. “That is my burden. And I know not what I am cursed with. All I know is that it is quite painful,” he choked out, before his chest tightened with another cough.
With the soup cooking on the stovetop, and the water boiled, Thor put together the tea with a little honey before moving into the living room. It would be another half an hour at least until the food was done, for it was very particular in its cooking time - Frigga had made sure to teach both of her sons that should they ever need to make it on their own. Setting the tea down on the couch-side table, the thunderer moved forward and did what he had always seen his mother do - place the back of his hand on Loki’s forehead. Despite the normally-cold temperature of the flesh, it was like fire beneath his fingertips and he restrained the urge to pull away in shock.
Concern was growing and, though it would end after fourteen hours, much could go wrong between then and now. “Here. Drink this for your throat, and rest. I will get you a cool towel to place on your forehead… It’s quite warm,” he commented, flashing a brief smile toward the other. Everything felt tense, despite the kind gestures, and the thunderer wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around his baby brother and hold him close, talk like they had when they were children. He missed those days with every fiber of his being and yet… he knew that things would never truly be the same.
The blonde returned a few moments later with a cool towel mechanism which allowed him to tie it around Loki’s forehead without it slipping. It looked a little silly but it would help. Still, he couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped his lips, lightening the mood a little. “You look ridiculous, brother.”
Liege took the tea with a weak sigh, and sat up somewhat so he could drink it effectively. He didn’t hesitate to bring the cup to his lips, the warm liquid slipping down his throat and easing its scratchy walls. He nodded solemnly as Thor went off to find a cloth—Loki must have had quote the unsettling temperature. He did feel sweaty, he noted.
The cloth was wrapped around his head. “I feel ridiculous,” he muttered, though he casted a bemused smirk at Thor, his eyes smiling somewhat. “Could you…could you go into my bedroom and bring me a different outfit? A…a loose shirt, perhaps. And…sweatpants,” he nodded decidedly, his voice a little smoother since the tea. He glanced down at the cup and took a sip. “Second floor, third room to your right,” he directed. “Please. I’m overheating.”
Thor should’ve known that when a Frost Giant was overheating, it was imperative that he was kept as cool as possible. Liege figured that was something his brother had learned in his training, or perhaps in personal research. Had his brother sought to learn more about his true form, Liege wondered?
Nearly the second the thunderer had learned his brother’s true nature, he had begun his research. Most had found it weird, for the great warrior to spend so much time in the dusty library at the corner of the city, but Thor knew that, one day, it would come in handy. Unfortunately, with his memory being rather terrible when it came to anything other than fighting techniques, he hardly remembered any of it. Still, he figured that Loki would know what he needed as a frost giant (even a small one), so he vowed to simply listen whenever something was told to him on how to help the trickster feel better.
Smiling as he nodded and headed upstairs to gather the clothing (which were remarkably easy to find), he realized idly that he had never seen Loki in casual clothes. A suit, perhaps, and the classic Asgardian outfits, but never in simple Midgardian sweats. Parts of him yearned to see it and yet, for some reason, he didn’t want the illusion of formality that surrounded the other to fade. Shaking his head free of such thoughts, he snatched up the loose tanktop (grey in color) and sweatpants (black in color) before heading downstairs.
Loki hadn’t moved much, other than to adjust a bit to sip his tea better and so, the blonde didn’t have long to think on his next question. “Do you need help dressing…?” The second those words left his mouth, he felt foolish, realizing that even though he was younger than the thunder god, even sickness would not stoop his proud brother to such a level. Still… he could be hopeful.
The other’s sudden rage was neither a surprise nor an expectation. He’d long known of Loki’s anger toward their father and, as much as he had once worshiped the man, he knew that Odin had done wrong by Loki. All the lies, the cruelty. And he had been no better. When Odin had ignored him, the thunderer had gone on a rampage throughout the nine realms, forgetting that all his life, Loki had been the one ignored and betrayed. Sighing softly, knowing there was so little he could say to the other, he reprimanded and moved to the window that overlooked the grand city that his palace sat in. The sun was setting in the distance, sending brilliant arrays of purples, oranges, and reds scattered across the sky.
“I am not a mirror, Loki, as you are not of Laufey or Odin. We are our own people, and I am not my father. With all that has happened, there is little I can say to truly ask for your forgiveness, but you must remember and disassociate me from the Allfather. Remember our childhood… when our parents were not involved. We were close, once. And it is with those memories that I treasure… Your anger is well met and appropriate, but I do not wish to fight you unless I must.”
Slowly, he turned to face his brother. “Had it been my choice, you would have known your heritage from the start. Asgard would know that not every frost giant was as Laufey was - a cruel, killing monster who deserved his death. They would know that you were a prince as much as I was… but the throne is not yours. It never was. Even by the laws of Asgard, I would have taken Odin’s place before you. I am older, after all.”
Thundering steps took him to Loki’s side once again, ocean hues alight with thunder that began to rumble outside. “I only wanted you home, brother, and this fight we have is childish.”
There was little Loki could do but resign to falling silent, standing quietly in place as he watched Thor stride to the window, deep red cape billowing out behind him as he went. He listened carefully to each syllable that came from the Thunderer’s lips, bowing his head and frowning in thought. There was always going to be this bitterness between them, that much was certain. What was in the past was in the past, however, and nothing could or would end up changing what was done.
He could not help but feel as though the Odinson was lying, however, when it came to his heritage. Thor had always been the judgmental type, keen with the traditional ways taught to him since the heir’s birth. The Frost Giants had always been seen as nothing but monster’s in the golden-haired one’s eyes, from the moment they were told the tales of war between the two races. Perhaps he now had different thoughts on the subject - though Loki strongly doubted that he would be able to fully accept him for what he was. There was a part of the trickster inside that wanted to scream out to Thor, “Fight me, fight me! Prove yourself worthy, for I know that you are not!”. However, he was outmatched here, in this place he had once had the sense to call home.
Thor was a King now - should he dare attack, his loyal warriors would retaliate. Instead, the deity took a different approach of the matter, waiting until Thor had approached him. Bright blue eyes flashed up to meet those of his Brother not by blood, a sad smile forming on those thin lips of his. “…We shall never return to the Old ways, you know that, as do I. I’ve changed - as you have. I’m not the Brother you once knew, nor will I ever return to my former self. It’s not that simple, Odinson, surely you must have realized this by now.”
The words stung, and for a moment, the talkative thunderer found himself at a loss on what to say. A small part of him had always known that the trickster’s words were true and yet, he never thought he would hear them aloud. To do so made his heart ache, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. What could he say? The words were true. No matter how much he longed for them to go back to the old days, the past was the past, and they could never truly forgive each other for all they had done. But perhaps…
“We can start anew. Even if we cannot be as we once were, we do not have to be enemies, brother. There’s no reason to, for we believe in much of the same things. Father’s reign is over, and I am not him. You know that.” Ocean hues stared, determined, into Loki’s icy ones. “Asgard will change. I will tell them that not all frost giants are to be hated… and if you were to take the throne on Jotunheim, take your father’s place, perhaps we could bring a peace between the realms that no one has ever seen before.”
The idea of peace nearly brought him into a state of ecstatic joy. Never had Asgard been at peace with Jotunheim, for the two realms were plagued by the foolish feud between Odin and Laufey. But with both rulers gone, and room for new ones to be born, there was finally a possibility of it.