<div class="floatright">(http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m8wuwejmrA1rclql1o1_500.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Name:</strong> Loki<br/><strong>Title:</strong> God of Mischief<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Fortress of Lokitude <br/><strong>Time:</strong> 6:40 PM EST<br/><strong>Tags:</strong> Amora </span></span><br/><hr/><br/><em>(Continued from Earth - All Other Locations (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=144303.msg6979246#msg6979246))</em><br/><br/><br/>His smile faded when she turned away, his mind besieged with memories as he watched Amora's golden locks flounce around her shoulders. She was his unexpected treasure, the strangest trick the Norns had ever played on him in a life born of chaos and carved from cruel twists of fate.  The secret he kept safe from all in Asgard, save perhaps Odin himself.<br/><br/>She was a talented student of Karnilla's. Gifted with a talent for sorcery and controlling the minds of men, she sought him out and he accepted, mentoring her further training on the dark path. Loki was both suspicious of her devotion and hungry for it; a conflict he doubted would ever be resolved. What mattered right now, in this moment, was that Amora was here on Midgard, weaving her spells against his enemies while she waited for his return. Whatever her reasons, she had waited for him and she welcomed his touch. He felt a twinge of sentiment, like a needle piercing his heart, and attempted to crush it with the purity of lust as he entered the portal after her.<br/><br/>They emerged in another place within Midgard yet out of step with its time. Crystalline walls around them glowed an ethereal blue in perfect darkness, their light barely hinting at a bare and rocky landscape beyond. Before them, sculpted from stone, was a long and low pedestal strewn with furs. Next to it sat a table, holding a pitcher and two goblets of luminous glass. Arching overhead the stars of the realm formed a glittering dome, dulled only at the sharp edge of the horizon.<br/><br/>Loki strode towards the table, his steps echoing from the polished stone floor across the chamber. He poured the mead and offered a glass to Amora with a sly smile.  "Now we have our privacy, my dear. No need to be so formal with one another." He looked meaningfully up and down her body as he drained his own glass. "Remove your rags and let me gaze upon Asgardian perfection, as I've longed to do since last we parted."<br/>