Marvel: My Way's Journal

Uninvited guest
Since Psylocke had literally stumbled over her in the kitchen, Loki had staid in the X-Mansion, trying to acess the different planes of reality and find out what was going on. However, this was not unlike trying to find her way through a swampland covered in thick fog - space and time where in turmoil. She couldn't even locate Bifröst, the rainbow bridge to Asgard. I wish I knew if this is because my abilities are not fully restored, or because something stronger than even me is deliberately controlling the situation.

Loki had not yet reported in to anyone, though she guessed Psylocke would have told whoever was leading them right now. It didn't really concern her; it was not like she desperately needed a place to stay. There was enough magic left to change and steal someone's identity, or even conjure up her own little house if she really wanted to. For now, Loki had decided to stay as a woman - she liked both forms, and noticed that this one seemed more trustworthy to others (as well as confusing to most men, always a plus).

The Asgardian woman was standing tall at only a few centrimetes short of two metres, looking quite impressive, like a valkyrie with wide hips and ample cleavage to show off in the green dress, which was held by a golden belt. It was the same green as her eyes, which were as much as a contrast to the pale skin as the black hair, full off lockets that made sure the green-gold combination she preferred was pronounced. Attracting gazes was a necessity to the trickster that so enjoyed the limelight.

Right now, she wandered the halls, locks opening under her fingertips that flickered with magic if she wished it so. For once, causing trouble was not first on her mind, merely exploring the new enviroment. As the lock to another room came open, she paused.
Mechanical gadgets, how interesting. It's always worth a look to see how far the mortals of Midgard have come. They do some quite interesting things, I have to admit that much.
The god(ess) entered the room, inspecting some of the half-finished looking machines. She ran her fingertip over the curve of a device that once might have been a motorcycle before someone brutally gutted it.

Current Mood: curious