the_variant | (no subject)

Spending the day as a man is exhausting.

Though it has yet to work in Darrow, Sylvie is convinced one day her alter ego -- she's called him Dan and he works at City Hall and no one actually knows what he does, but they all like him -- will yield some kind of results. Some information someone doesn't want the rest of them to know, the transplants from elsewhere. Because Dan, like so many others, has always been in Darrow.

Still, she doesn't especially like being Dan. He's handsome and he's charming and he's funny. He's also non-threatening. Women laugh at his jokes, men invite him out for beers with the guys. It's all so generic and boring and mundane, and not in the way she's come to enjoy. Dan would never be caught dead somewhere like Hideout, where Sylvie has been half a dozen times since the vampire's show. Dan doesn't stomp around like Sylvie does, Dan doesn't listen to loud music, he drinks Darrow's equivalent to Coors light and he sure as hell isn't in a relationship with more than one person.

Dan's single. He'll always be single. That's just easier for Sylvie to deal with.

Sylvie is not single, however, and as she stomps into the townhouse, still wearing Dan, she knows at least one of her two men is present. He's seen her in this form more than a few times, so she knows he won't be startled by the angry blond man suddenly slamming cabinets in their kitchen and she should revert back to her preferred form, but there's something more satisfying about slamming things with a big stupid man's hand.

Which she does. Vigorously.

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"Hello, Daniel," Loki said, leaning casually in the doorway, arms crossed and barely stifling a smirk. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

It wasn't much of a pleasure, as Loki preferred Sylvie in her chosen form on any day, especially one when she was in such a mood. Still, if he couldn't tease her a bit, what was the point of any of it?

"My hands are bigger like this," she reminds him, turning toward Loki and scowling at his smirk. He thinks he's tempering the edges of it, but she knows it's there and her eyes narrow, though without any real heat.

It's been a long time since she's been well and truly angry with Loki.

"It's more satisfying to slam things with bigger hands," she explains and then demonstrates by slamming a cupboard door. It doesn't break, she isn't slamming things hard enough for that, because she respects their home too much. She respects what he's given her far too much to damage it.

"I suppose it is," Loki agreed, as if that explanation made perfect sense. "Would you like to tell me the reason you're slamming cabinets, or would you prefer I leave you to it?"

He didn't clarify whether or not he would actually do whichever it was she wanted.

He's too charming, even when she's annoyed, and she scowls at him again, an attempt to cover the little smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. She doesn't have an answer for him, doesn't even really know why she's still so annoyed to not have found any solid information about Darrow.

"I spent the day at City Hall," she admits, then turns and leans against the counter, running a hand through her short hair. "I don't even know why I bother. I don't want to find a way out and it isn't as if I've managed to gather any useful information before."

"Someone has to know something, and it's driving you mad," Loki suggested, "The not knowing. Even if it's knowledge you don't intend to use."

Loki felt the same, but he'd never been as single-minded as she was. He'd dig a bit, and quickly grow bored when there was nothing glaring to find.

She sighs as a green shimmer washes down the length of her body, returning to her preferred form, and then she goes across to where Loki is leaning against the door and slips her arms around his waist. She leans her head against his chest and listens to the beat of his heart for a moment.

"Are you suggesting I'm mad?" she asks finally, a small smile blooming against her will.

"Good Gods, no. I'm outright acknowledging it. That's a core aspect of a Loki's personality, is it not?" Loki teased her, lips dropping to the crown of her head. His own smile threatened to widen on his face, his arms secure around her petite frame.

Tipping a finger under her chin and looking down at her familiar face, he smirked faintly and said, "Well, hello."

"Hello, gorgeous," she answers, smirking back. "You don't like Daniel? I thought I made him rather attractive in an unassuming way."

She prefers men like Loki and Bucky, dark hair, sharp angles, more prone to a scowl or a smirk than a proper smile, but she's had favourable reactions to Dan in general.

"I'll have you know, he had two invitations for after work drinks today," she informs Loki.

"Now, I didn't say that," Loki pointed out, his smirk deepening. "I just happen to prefer you like this."

His hand was gentle in her hair, pushing blonde strands of it back from her face.

"Well, were they worth considering?"

Sylvie's nose wrinkles and she shakes her head. "Not especially. Not when I have better options waiting for me at home."

Were she on her own entirely, maybe she'd have considered the offers. There are plenty of places Sylvie can imagine herself without Loki and Bucky, but none of them are even half as appealing as what she actually has. A stunning thought, most of the time, even now.

"I was hoping I'd find out something more about this Purge," she admits. "I'm not worried about us, but Hilde..." She shrugs. It's difficult for her to admit what the girl means to her.