I don't want somebody to love me... [open]

[cosmetological]

Who: Thomas and YOU!
What: a simple meal as Thomas and Margaery get used to one another
When: Post-exploration trip
Where:Carmichael's Deli, City of Tomorrow
Notes & Warnings: None so far! It's just song lyrics.

What's Thomas doing in the City of Tomorrow?

Looking over possible storefronts to purchase for what he's hoping will become Coiffure Cup's second location. That's why he's his laptop and a few printed out listings that he's checking off, circling, or X'ing out as he does his research on the various locations using some of the demographic information he was able to find.

Because the thing of it is, he really likes this place. Like... really likes it. Especially since he can come here without being unavailable to his brother much. But he doesn't have to deal with his sister's bullshit, or the small amount of bullshit that he actually minds from Harry, and hey, he might even be able to find an utterly out of this world Christmas present for the cranky beansprout.

But the thing of it is, if he's going to spend a decent amount of time here, he needs a local cashflow source and a local location to get his fix. Which means... a salon. And given how well his salon fusion has worked back in Chicago, he sees no problem with making a franchise of it.

Of course, all of the things around him make sense for someone working on this goal except, perhaps, for the black and white california king who's coiled up around his shoulders. Her name happens to be Margaery, you see, and she's something of a souvenir from his time on 'Demon' Island. For the moment, she's resting and soaking in his warmth happily enough, but there may be a few whispers in his ear as she notices a tiny detail or otherwise passes judgement on the various locations that he's looking through.

All in all, a rather relaxing afternoon, all things considered. But do feel free to interrupt...

Comments

[cosmetological]

"Well, who am I to neglect the vibe of..." he tilts his head. "Actual Loki?"

[story_and_teller]

"Genuine article, in the flesh," he affirms. "What gave me away? Was it the horns? The manly good looks? The aura of indefinable mystique?"

[cosmetological]

"I'm not blind, no," he says with a quick snort, before shrugging a little. The snake around his shoulders looks up and speaks.

"You smell good."

[story_and_teller]

Loki arches an eyebrow at the cute little snake.

"Do I?"

[cosmetological]

The snake nods, but doesn't add anything further.

...for which Thomas is so glad.

[story_and_teller]

The arched eyebrow takes on a wryer angle as Loki tips his chin toward Thomas.

"I know how those guys work, yanno."

[cosmetological]

"And your point is?"

He didn't say you didn't, after all.

[story_and_teller]

"Mmm... Don't have one. What do I smell like?" he asks immediately after, all but completely contradicting his prior statement. There's a note of genuine curiosity there though; he knows what other Lokis smell like, King Loki and his own precious Ikol, but himself? That's a bit different.

[cosmetological]

The man looks at his snake and the snake looks at her person. The snake turns back to Loki.

"Like a snake. Like life."

[story_and_teller]

"Well. I am Loki," he says, as if that explains everything.