"This one looks fairly highly reviewed, so I suppose it's a good place to start. The story is called 'A Sweet Taste'." Winter shot the screen a rather skeptical look, peering past the flickering phone balanced upon her palm to Loki, who'd settled himself cross legged on her bed peering over her shoulder curiously, "Sounds oddly sexual." She noted shortly with a look of suspicion dancing across her prepared to be disgusted features.
"How so?" He raised both eyebrows, mocking ignorance to the topic.
"Can't put my finger on it," Winter joked with a smirk, as she selected and opened the story file with a firm tap of the finger, "But I know for certain you don't have a particular sweet tooth." Winter continued, shooting him a rather 'this won't end well' look.
"By your interesting standards not many Asgardians do." Loki gave a bored sort of shrug, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
As always, actually.
"Fair point." Winter admitted with a mock trivial shrug, "Now, let's see what we have here.." Winter hummed to herself softly, turning the device lengthwise in her palm, the screen shifting within her palm at the movement. "What's that?" Loki frowned, curiously gesturing to a line below the summary upon the top of the page, listing the rather strange sentence centered proudly, 'Rated M'.
"Looks like a rating." Winter contemplated around, an eyebrow quirked at the coded words.
"I understood that much. What does the M stand for?"
"Modest, maybe? Measured? Moderate? Who knows? To be honest, it doesn't seem very important. Otherwise they would have made it more clear." Winter gave a shrug, scrolling further into the story itself, a chapter's worth of words lying before her eyes. Her brow furrowing in soft concentration, eyes studying the strange lettering of the English alphabet, "It.. Ha- Had... Been... A... Go-od... Hmm.. L-.. Long.." Winter managed thoughtfully, her voice drowning into the air painstakingly slowly.
Loki's eye twitched impatiently, with a broken sort of look about him in every maddening sense of the word. It appeared for all the world as if Winter had just suggested he run off and kiss Thor. "You are an astonishingly slow reader!" He complained as if her reading had pained him physically, impatiently snatching the phone himself.
Winter gave a huff, shaking her head with an expressive shrug, "It's English, they couldn't have picked a harder language to translate." She muttered grumpily, crossing her arms, "I can read old Norse, I can read Greek, I can read Nightmarish," She listed tirelessly, "Frankly, it would take hours for me to list all the languages I speak fluently." Winter assured him with a pointed look, "English is simply impossible to decode from the nonsensical, squiggly letters they reside inside, into any sort of common tongue in any time less than an hour a page!"
Loki gave her an unimpressed look over the top of the screen before dropping his eyes to the flickering words, reading effortlessly, "It had been a good long while since-"
"Damn you."
"-Since Winter had arrived-" He continued before looking up with a disappointed frown, "Hmm.. You're in this.." He narrowed his eyes, turning the black clad phone in his hand, "It is a disappointment that there are other people featuring within this story.. But.." Loki supposed aloud, "I suppose a supporting cast is necessary." He concluded thoughtfully.
"Excuse me?" Winter leapt up from the chair, throwing a glare across the room, "Supporting cast my ass! You're the supporting cast!" She threw an accusing finger, "I appeared first, thus, I am clearly the main character!" Winter expressed, plonking onto the bed as she shoved aside the bedding to one corner. Crossing her legs pointedly, she shifted her gaze over his shoulder, to the flickering screen.
"The author felt it necessary to develop a certain level of realism, I'm certain," Loki scoffed as she rested her chin upon his shoulder, eagerly peering at the screen, "Now, let's skip to the good part.." Loki scrolled through the page, skimming the flickering words for his name.
"When YOU appear, you mean." Winter accused.
"You have an objection?" Loki seemed rather shocked to the idea.
"Either read from the beginning, or it's not doing justice to a good story." Winter gave an unamused look, raising both eyebrows bluntly to Loki. "It's a page long, written by a fanatic you dragged to Asgard." He expressed openly, "How could that be a good story?"
"Have you read it?" Winter raised an eyebrow with a smirk dancing across her features, "No?" She answered smartly, "Then you don't know that for certain."
"Very well, let's just see how 'good' this story is. If it's no good, I'm skipping to the parts I'm in." Loki proclaimed, glancing back down at the phone balanced within his palm, reading aloud effortlessly, "It had been a good long while since Winter had first arrived to Asgard, and very little had changed -"
"That's untrue! I cracked the very universe about me when I appeared! I was thought to be an assassin for months afterwards! There were murder attempts, riots!" Winter expressed, exasperated, "Just why am I included in this story, if the author knows nothing about my appearance?" She growled, frustration decorating her annoyed features.
"Are you about done?" Loki asked bluntly, looking over the top of the screen with an annoyed expression.
"No.. But read on."
"Very little had changed, that was, of course, until the subject of her coming birthday came to light-" Loki frowned, lowering the screen as he turned towards Winter questioningly. "Do you even have a birthday?"
"Of course not," Winter scoffed, taken aback, "I'm much too old to recall just what date this host body was born upon. Seems a trivial swatch of information any way, why would anyone really mind such things?"
"Theoretically.."
"Theoretically, I suppose it would be.." Winter started thoughtfully, melodramatically gazing into the crooked rooftop with a wistful glance, "Never." She concluded sharply, "Now, will you just read the damn story?"
"You seem slightly addicted to these, fan fictions. Perhaps it would be wiser if we discontinued."
"Look, either you're reading it aloud, or I am." Winter warned with a deliberate look, "Take your pick."
"-Until the subject of her coming birthday came to light," Loki continued promptly, "It was a rather fascinating concept, and at the very least it provided a well enough reason- Hmm.." He stopped with a puzzled expression, skimming the next series of paragraphs with narrowed eyes.
"Is the phone having a problem reading?"
"No, it looks like the author's having a problem writing. This sentence just cuts off, doesn't even end properly. It just jumps into a description of a feast." Loki explained with a scowl.
"Psh," Winter waved a dismissive hand, "You're too picky!" She shrugged her carefree arms with a widening grin dancing across her features, "Just skip to the feast itself, something interesting must happen there, and we can finally get off this single sentence!"
"Won't that ruin the good story?" Loki quoted her with a smart look, giving a cunning sort of smirk.
"That is a risk I am willing to take." Winter deadpanned the decision as if it held deep weight and repercussions.
"And just why is it that I should do as you ask?"
"You're bound to show up in the feast, you know."
"- Winter turned to the man beside her with a grin, 'Well this is a nice little get together, isn't it? Not really my forte, but regardless, even I can appreciate the attempt.' " Loki raised both eyebrows thoughtfully, peering to Winter, "This author imagines that you don't enjoy feasts?"
"Apparently so." Winter blinked, taken aback, "As unfounded as that is."
"It seems that a fair amount of this story is unfounded, I wonder what her sources were.." Loki dismissed the thought, turning the phone slightly as he settled into truly reading the piece of writing, "-'The attempt? Just what does a woman such as you, do for celebrations?' The handsome-" He looked up brightly, "Ooh, I like that, it's about time someone noticed," He grinned widely, shooting Winter a pleased look.
Winter rolled her eyes, shaking her head softly as Loki continued, "-Loki inquired with a prideful grin. 'Well,' Winter supposed thoughtfully, eyes drifting down the man before her-" Loki stopped, shooting Winter a rather teasing grin, inquiring innocently, "Ooh, like what you see, Winter?"
"You're too young for me."
"You look only a few years older than I."
"It's a significant few years."
"We'll see if the story you agrees. Well,' Winter supposed thoughtfully, eyes drifting down the man before her 'It's a matter of.. Opportunity, really' Winter continued, lifting a strawberry from his plate-" Loki frowned, lowering the phone with accusing eyes, concluding aloud with a joking hatred, "I think you just stole from me."
"Oh hell.." Winter blinked in shock, the weight of the depicted scene finally coming into lights, "I think I know what Rated M means now." She muttered aloud, features a rather deep, spreading red.
"What does it mean?" Loki inquired curiously, furrowing his brow in bafflement.
"Just stop, just stop reading." Winter managed, covering her eyes with a hand and willing the story itself to realize it's own faults, and take to spontaneously combust for such. Loki raised an eyebrow, scrolling through the story and skimming the flickering words. Raising her eyes, Winter snatched a hand out, tearing the phone from his interested grip.
"What are you doing?" He complained sharply, "I was reading that!"
"Fixing this." Winter snapped, rising from the bed and quickly dialing numbers onto the touch screen, "This needs to get fixed immediately." Winter concluded aloud, turning her back to Loki's deep glare for the removal of the phone, "Greetings, Lacey!" Winter exclaimed with a mock pleasantness about herself, "Do you recall the favor you asked of me? Well, I started reading some of your stories, it looks like your story, A Sweet Taste requires some improvement. Actually, a lot. I want the entire thing scrapped. Can't be salvaged."
Protests sounded from the other end of the phone, offended upon the idea of a story so disliked by it's subjects, "Well," Winter interrupted with a shrug, "You asked me for my opinion in the stories I feature in, so shut your talking hole and hear it. Because it sure as hell isn't optional any more." Winter growled into the phone with bared teeth, annoyance flooding her as Loki took to trying to snatch the phone back himself. Ducking, Winter spun in evasion, resting her back against his for a moment as she listed the countless issues within the story, "First problem, it's impossible to read, too many broken sentences."
Loki took a step to the side, spinning around in the pursuit of the phone, or rather the story resting upon it. Rolling, Winter slipped past him, rising with a triumphant 'Ha!' in his direction, "Second problem, I don't talk like that." She proclaimed into the phone, her triumphant smile dropping as an army of illusions filled the room, all beaming from ear to ear. "Er, thirdly," Winter supposed slowly, backing up quite the number of paces dreadfully, reaching a hand behind her back for the doorknob of the wilted doorway, "I rather like feasts.."
"What? Me distracted?" Winter gulped as the illusions charged forward, wrenching open the door with a firm hand, Winter bolted down the winding stairs, a stampeding army upon her heels. "Never!" She dismissed, reaching out a hand to catch the edge of the ending column of the stairs, swinging around the sharp turn with momentum as she sprinted out of the rather impressively crammed Inn.
"Where was I? Fourthly, yes, We're not involved, in any way shape or form. I forbid you to depict us as such. I do have a reputation, you know." Winter reminded the midgardian woman as she bolted past a stunned stable master, who's eyebrows raised to the shimmering army half a pace behind a mad woman speaking into a blackened device resting in her palm.
"And lastly, and perhaps most importantly," Winter noted, sliding to a sharp stop, the physical contact with the illusions causing the majority to dispel. With a smirk, Winter bolted in the opposite direction, her footsteps falling over the marketing districts of Asgard, "If I DID take something from Loki's plate, he'd likely cut my hand off." Winter breathed, gnashing her teeth with effort as she leapt from the stone clad ground, flipping into the air she bounced heavily upon the cloth roof of a sturdy stall, landing pleasantly upon a low hanging rooftop of some tavern.
Giving a smart sort of grin, Winter reclined upon the sun baked metal, speaking easily, "No, really. He would. There was some legend where he got into an eating contest with someone, and lost to Logi, the fire, because it ate the table and plates, and he just ate the food. Thing is, there was a mistranslation."
"There was not!" A voice sounded argumentatively behind her, reminding Winter rather adruptly of Loki's newfound ability to teleport short distances.
Damn.
"So says the guy who trademarked the phrase 'Lying.' " Winter added into the phone with a smart look, "I've got to go, I get the sense a chase is about to ensue."
"I'll be in contact, Lacey." Winter added, leaping to her feet, dropping the phone into a pocket pointedly and bounding from the rooftop.