- Why did you choose/create your muse and how do you choose to portray them?
- Do you identify with or relate to your muse on any personal level?
- Would you be friends with your muse?
- Do you consider yourself to have a “relationship” with your muse?
- How does your muse feel about you?
- What do you admire about your muse? What do you hate about them?
- If you could spend the day with your muse, would you? If so, what would you do?
- If you were dating, who would “wear the pants” in the relationship?
- What do you consider to be your muse’s biggest flaw?
- Is your muse a hero, villain or something in between? What’s their motivation for being such?
- Do you play your muse as canonically as possible or do you take some liberties?
- Do you feel there is anything that distinctly sets your blog apart from other role plays of the same character?
- If you could change something about your muse, would you? If so, what would it be?
- Where do you see your muse in ten years?
- Has your muse had any life changing revelations? If not, will they in the future?
- What is your muse’s biggest regret?
- What is your muse’s greatest fear?
- Is your muse satisfied with themselves?
- Does your muse have any secrets?
- Is your muse adventurous in the bedroom?
“But angering people is what I do best,” Loki insists playfully; and though it’s true, and he tells himself he doesn’t care, there’s the barest hint of resignation or even sadness in his tone. Just because he’s good at something doesn’t mean he has to be proud of it. He’s excellent at sneaking about causing mischief where he shouldn’t and even better at lying, but if Thor doesn’t approve of any of these talents then what good are they? Thor’s the one it matters to impress, after all.
He lets his head flop onto his brother’s chest with a heavy sigh. Moving again. It feels like they’ve done nothing but move lately. Though he can walk much faster than Thor, his brother’s endurance is—of course—inhuman. Particularly given that Thor tends to sling him over his shoulder or under his arm when they travel, Loki is starting to feel like a rather worn-out suitcase that ought to have been thrown out years ago.
Of course, now Thor is trying to make him feel better and Loki feels awful when he doesn’t let Thor fuss over him. Imposing though he can be, Thor really is not much better than a big, gentle puppy once Loki pushes his buttons just right. “I remember. Paris.” He smiles and takes his hand, lacing their fingers together and batting his eyelashes at him with a mocking laugh. “City of love. Full of saps like you, especially in tourist season.”
“True,” he agrees. ”But I’m sure you have other talents you can flaunt while we’re trying to lay low. Hm?” And though he himself sounds playful, Thor can sense the slight trace of sadness in Loki’s voice. It’s a voice he knows well, after all, even when softened with youth and teasing.
As Loki’s head leans to his chest, Thor’s arm tightens slowly around his small waist to offer more closeness. He knows he’s hard on him sometimes— knows he gets upset or annoyed with him far too easily when he stirs up mischief, but it’s because he wants to keep him safe. They’ve been handed a second chance… That’s not something to be thrown carelessly aside. He’s sure he knows this well by now.
Slender fingers lace with his own and he glances down at that small, delicate-looking hand. (Fragile when compared to his own broad palm and fingers capable of crushing metal, bone…) But he lifts an eyebrow at the boy when he bats his eyelashes like that. Wait. Is he… mocking him?
“Saps? When has Thor, God of Thunder, ever been known as a sap?”
His brow furrows and his voice lowers into a growl, as though he’s genuinely offended by the insinuation. It lingers this way for a moment or two… before an amused smirk starts to curve at the edges of his mouth and he squeezes him tighter, even ruffling his hair with his free hand.
“Brat. The city’s reputation matters not. I merely thought it would be interesting to visit as we journey. You know it well and this could be used to our advantage.”
The Mighty Thor (2011) #3: “You bald and glinting bastard! I am having yet another in a string of bad days, and you’ve just given me every excuse to take them all out on you…”