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St. John Allerdyce ([info]untamedinferno) wrote in [info]snapthread,
@ 2020-01-20 09:34:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:loki (616), st john allerdyce (616)

Who: St. John Allerdyce and Loki Laufeyson.
What: A tethering, a stabbing, and a fire happen at the Fjord.
When: Morning of the 20th.
Where: Loki's bedroom.
Rating: V for Violence. S for Stabbing. F for Fire. Bad things happen.

St. John was happy. He had fallen asleep with the love of his life, their many pets, in their gigantic bed that she was given for her efforts of living in this backwards town. Despite the strangeness of the place, John had learned to call it home, and frankly nothing bad had been happening since the time through the doors with his good ole pal Quill. So life was just simply good.

Well, up until he started coming conscious. Waking up, John felt an immediate difference. The bed first of all wasn't what it felt like previously. Not nearly as comfortable. Well, it was very comfortable, but the pillow his head was didn't have the mixed scent of his and Kitty's.

Neither did the body that he was so intent on being cuddled up to. This wasn't Kitty...

THIS WASN'T KITTY!

John sprang out of the bed with great momentum with a loud "What the fuck!?" Trying to put as much distance between himself and the other body, which abruptly ended as he felt something go taunt. The best thing he could describe the feeling as, when you watched a dog on a leash go running and suddenly hit the end of the leash - that was John. The momentum of his moving away from the other person came to a snap and John felt his body lurch and stop and down he went with another "What the fuuuuck?!" More confused before getting to his knees to learn who he was sharing a room with.

Loki. Well, this morning could be starting better.



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[info]lie_smith
2020-01-31 11:56 pm UTC (link)
"Don't do anything to get stabbed for, and you won't have that extra mess to clean up," Loki said -- because obviously she wouldn't be the one to clean it. "Work smarter, not harder," she repeated. Well. The mantra wasn't wrong, in any case.

She agreed anyway, waving the knife into - whatever plane of existence it want to when she wasn't holding it - and then lead him to the kitchen -- seating herself on the kitchen island, bare feet dangling, (it was right in the middle, so obviously the smartest spot to allow room to wander) even as she closed her eyes to focus on the task at hand while she assumed John could find his way around.

It was, of course, a very unfortunate thing that she couldn't work the magic out properly. But breakfast was decent.

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