2017-04-29 Back to the Hungry Catipillar
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
Players: Loki, Mike
GMed by Who GMed?
Title: Back to the Hungry Catipillar

The decor of the large room is very VERY simple. Against the wall, there is a queen size murphy bed system that also functions as a sofa and shelf setup. To the side of that sofa is a slot sofa, with a coffee table, ottoman combination that's designed to slide into the sofa when more floor space is needed. To the opposite side of the murphy bed, two oversized beanbag chairs.
Over to the far end of the room, furthest from the entrance, the music gear rests. Drum pads, The actual kit, keyboard, two guitars upon stands, and a violin case.
There's also a sketch pad, a note pad, and writing utensils. Thaaaaat's about it. For you snoops out there, the sketch pad contains sketches of people Mike has seen in passing. There may even be more than one of Wade, Felicia, Loki, and a woman who bears some resemblance to Mike himself.
In an odd feature of the room, there is a door on the same wall as the window, which logicaly should not be there. Nor is it a part of the original building designs. And yet, when you open it, it appears to be a simple closet containing, of all things, sound dampening foam, recording equipment, and other supplies to convert the room into a temporary recording studio when needed.

With the occasional showers that errupt outside upon the streets of New York City. Most people have opted for indoor activities to pass the beginings of their new found weekends. Some go to watch movies with their friends, others opt to watch tv. But in Mike's room, he works.

As the droplets lazily roll down along the window, a slow soft melody comes from the stringed instrument that lays across Mike's lap as he's resting in one of the bean bag chairs. He frowns, eyes closing as he gently plays, singing at a similar volume. "She mustn't know the sorrow, She mustn't know the tears. Tomorrow mustn't bring her A future that she fears. - How many now lay crying? Their dreams will have to keep. How many never have a chance? Tonight, let this one sleep…."

Loki doesn't feel that he has many friends on Midgard at the moment, so he settles on spying on those citizens of the tower he can tolerate. He has a horrible habit of just appearing in a room either visible or invisible to mortal eyes and just kind of staring at the back of the person's head. He is doing this now, arms folded, dressed in a neatly tailored suit with green and gold tie, and his smaller crown rather than a helmet. No need to be ostentateous. He can also sort of act as an autotune, using a flick of his slender fingers to fix any slightly off notes.

Without the courteousy of a knock or hello to indicate that he has a guest. Mike continues strumming along to the guitar, "A child is filled with wonder. Let this one's dreams be blessed. Don't ever let her wonder, If God might love her less. She mustn't know what we know, She mustn't be so wise. There's time enough for her to see Just let her be a child For now." But dammit all, there's always that feeling that you're being watched. And although Loki only remembers remembering Mike, Mike remembers Loki. The guitar playing stops. Mike's eyes open and his head rolls back, looking at the Asgardian prince upside down. "Hey Loki."

"Greetings." Loki replies without much tone, looking at his upside down face. "What are you doing? It seems that it is raining quite hard. Have you rulled out invasion by storm giants before choosing to relax?"

Pale eyes focus on Loki for a few moments after the question before he glances to the window, "The weather man did predict that there was going to be some scattered showers today." The musician glances back towards Loki, "And I'm not entirely relaxing. I'm practicing."

"You can predict your weather? Most impressive. I thought you did not have such things as a shaman." He unfolds his arms and walks around the room to stand in front of Mike. "Take me to this Weather Man. Or is that his codename since so many mortals have secret identities these days?"

"Mike cracks a slight smile, reaching over to his phone to check on the time. "The next weather person won't be doing their bit for another half hour." He sets the phone back on. "I think the more appropriate term for he ones who do the prediction would be meterologists. People who study the science that focuses on the atmosphere in order to predict the weather."

Loki looks at Mike blankly, refolding his arms. "Where is he located? I doubt he is some sort of fairy that resides inside your device. I wish for him to impart to me his wisdom in predicting the weather, so that I may take this knowledge back to Asgard to perhaps allow us to predict when we are under impending attack. Jotuns are easy to predict, but others are not."

"We have more than one, Loki." Mike replies, setting the guitar down on his lap, "People who become meteorologists do so after several years of study at a college or university. But they're focused on how weather behaves on earth, not Asgard."

Loki frowns. "You speak in terms for which I have no reference." He places his hands on the sides of his head, frowning. "I hate this planet. It is a wonder noone has attempted to enslave your species and give them a more organised purpose."

Mike says, "People who learn to predict the weather do so after studying for a long time at a really big school."

"Oh well. We have Thor, anyway. He seems to be a good method of predicting the weather since he is usually the one creating it."

"Which in a way seems like cheating," Mike murmurs, "If years of schooling seems like too much, you can try researching weather prediction at the library."

"Very well. You obviously are not informed in such matters. I shall seek out a library, but I cannot read your language. Perhaps they have it in mine."

Mike's brow raises at that statement. "You forgot how to read in our language?" He pauses, "I think the first time we ever met, you were reading The Hungry Catipillar."

"I was?" Loki asks, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I..I don't remember. Why would I read a book about a catipillar?"

"You were teaching yourself how to read our language. Children's books tend to be the best way to start learning how to read."

"Oh. Perhaps I will look for it again. Or perhaps they have another book more befitting a prince." Just don't give him Everybody Poops or the planet might end up missing a half.

"When you get back to the first grade reading level, The Prince and the Pauper perhaps."

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