Sock-hime (
wheesockies) wrote in
bakerstreet2014-01-23 09:31 am
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The "No Reason, I Just Wanna SHIP With You" Meme for Character Admiration, Missed Opportunities, etc

You know the moment. You see a character on a meme and you really, really want to tag them. It's not the meme's premise that's so alluring, it's the options to pick from in the comments! But for whatever reason, you either don't see that perfect character, they're on a different meme, you come too late, real life happens, or, if you do start a thread, it never goes anywhere. This meme is for all those times you've wanted to tag, but didn't, meant to tag, but forgot, or just otherwise didn't do what you wanted to.
Here is your chance for tagging because you can and you want to. No rhyme, no reason, just
x Comment with your character and preferences. People who want to tag your character and play with them in whatever capacity will tag you! If you're feeling particularly bold, you might even want to list characters you've always wanted to play against (ie, "I'd really like to smut with Dean Winchester or Goku").
x In turn, you tag others you've always wanted to tag. If you want to, you two can talk out ideas. If not, just start a thread! Or, if you've threaded before, maybe you can continue it here!
x Play nice and respect others.
x In turn, you tag others you've always wanted to tag. If you want to, you two can talk out ideas. If not, just start a thread! Or, if you've threaded before, maybe you can continue it here!
x Play nice and respect others.
Re: Loki Laufeyson || MCU/Norse mythology
She always ended up on the back deck at these things. God, if she had to listen to one more old man go on and on about his investment portfolio, she was going to strip down naked just to give them something else to talk about. (It tended to cause less of a stir than setting things on fire.)
She was currently stalking around, looking for a comfortable corner to crash in, holding a dusty bottle in one hand and an unlit cigar between her teeth. She hadn't opened the cognac, yet. Though Cuban cigar was beginning to taunt her. It wasn't even gone ten yet. She flopped down into a deck chair and threw one leg over the arm, dragging her free hand through her hair.
"Why do I even show up to these things, again? Oh right. Clients."
She may be just talking out loud to herself at this point. Bored.
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Fortunately (or perhaps, unfortunately for them), Loki could create his own entertainment just as well. He just had to find something worthy of mischief. He crossed the room slowly, a waiter tripping and dropping his tray in his wake, delicate champagne glasses crashing to the ground. It created a short-lived commotion that made him chuckle, his grin widening as he spotted the huge mirror that nearly covered an entire wall at one end of the ballroom. It was strongly affixed to the wall, he suspected, but should he prod it with his magic it would undoubtedly crack and fall down, showering a good half of the room with shards.
He strolled to the back deck to find a spot from which he could plot in peace, his green eyes mischievous and looking almost luminous in the dim light.
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"I forgot to nick some glasses." She waited until she had his attention, and then waggled the bottle at him. "But you're welcome to share."
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"And here I was just going to drink straight from the bottle. But I suppose the whole point of the evening is to pretend to be civilized." She smirked at him, and then pulled the cork from the bottle with her teeth.
"What are we drinking to? Other than not clawing our eyes out from sheer boredom?"
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"Pretend being the key word," he replied impishly, sitting down on the chair she had picked for him. Luckily Loki was very good at pretending.
He held the glasses out for her to fill, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Mischief, I think, would be appropriate."
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"To mischief. And mayhem. And anything else that starts with M and is more interesting that this snoozefest." She gestured with her glass to the party, and then took a long sip.
"Mmm, that is the good stuff."
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"Misbehaviour?" he suggested, clinking his glass back against hers. He took a cautious sniff from the liquid inside, swirling it thoughtfully before having a sip, his eyebrows rising faintly. "Acceptable," he agreed, smirking.
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She holds the glass up to the light, admiring its contents. "Bisquit Dubouche Cognac, 1811. Bottled in the year of the Great Comet. It was just sitting in a cabinet in there. It wasn't even locked up."
Honestly, did they think she'd just walk passed and not even notice? It was like they'd left her a present.
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"Now, that's just asking for trouble," he replies, his tone dry. "A thief, then." He's sizing her up now, not entirely benevolently, his eyes narrowing cunningly.