Loki and Death
Loki was slowly starting to feel more comfortable in the community. He didn't feel that every step he made was judged. It didn't mean he was friends with many. It also didn't mean that he would ever stop making fun of Steve Rogers. Some people just called for it. Right now, however, it were the drinks which were calling out to him.
"I would recommend the Chardonnay," Loki said as he saw someone else waiting to be served. He slid into a spot next to her and recognised the woman. Death. It was what she pretended to be. If something had ever sounded like a lie it was that. But the audacity of it screamed loud enough to leave him with doubts that maybe the claim was true. It left him unsettled. "Ah, it's you." Deadpan. Alcohol had already flirted with his mind. He had waded past the initial buzz, his tongue made loose and his mind freed from the restrictions of reason. He stared at her for a moment. "Didn't know someone like you was interested in something like this."