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[indent][indent][indent][indent][justify][color=808080]Imogen’s gaze was focused on the phantom mark of her lipstick left behind on the brim of the glass. A faint remnant of vodka hugged the inside edge as she turned the crystalware in her delicate grasp. Well, that was one thing off her long buried Academy bucket list. Although she imagined [i]‘Drinks with Magni’[/i] to be under less duress, with the pretense of a date and perhaps a drunken night cap to wrap up the evening in a neat little bow. Excessive booze to drown out her brother making an ass of himself, and by extension her, was not how she expected that to play out… at all. 

[color=00aeef]"I agree to thy deal, but I will still beseech thee for forgiveness. ‘Tis not in my nature to forget such a…"[/color] Imogen looked up as images of her own skin peering through the transparent lace flashed through Magni’s mind. [color=00aeef]"Fair and noble woman such as thyself. It would be a great boon to be reminded of our history, lest I cause more harm."[/color]

[i]Fair and noble.[/i] Imogen chuckled softly at how she had nearly forgotten the odd Shakespearean way he spoke. A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips, pleased he was noticing her, [i]finally[/i] after a decade. Even if a voice at the back of her mind tried to warn her against caving to old feelings. She wasn’t like the people who caught his attention at the Academy. If she was… He would have remembered her.

But his smile was soft and warm like the setting sun, begging for her to ease his burden. His mind spoke of wanting to know his misdeeds and wanting to know her… Not just her body. Imogen’s heart fluttered slightly. [color=a8f9ff]"We attended this academy together."[/color] She cleared her throat, reaching for the vodka once again. [color=a8f9ff]"I… Had [i]quite[/i] the crush on you back then,"[/color] she confessed. Her usual confidence faltered by a fraction as she set down her glass and removed the cap on the bottle. She surprised herself at how willingly she offered up a secret she carried for nearly ten years. But Magni wanted understanding and they were adults, [i]right?[/i]

[color=a8f9ff]"I’m not surprised that you never noticed me,"[/color] Imogen continued as she began refilling her drink, taking a deep breath. [color=a8f9ff]"I was far more timid back then. A content wallflower. I couldn’t compare to the men and women that caught your eye."[/color] She finally turned back to face him, icy and stormy blue eyes meeting in a silent stare. The tip of her tongue barely flicked along her bottom lip as her gaze fell and she began refilling his glass. 

[color=a8f9ff]"Although, I have to admit,"[/color] she spoke up once again, only after she finished pouring his drink. Imogen set the bottle back down and retrieved her glass. [color=a8f9ff]"The small part of my heart that clung to my teenage crush was saddened that you didn’t remember me."[/color]  She looked up into his deep blue eyes, shadowed by a pronounced brow and knotted golden locks. While admitting old feelings made her stomach twist uncomfortably, there was also some sense of relief getting it off her chest after all these years. Perhaps she could finally move on… Hopefully.

Imogen’s frosty blue eyes held his gaze intently as she slowly extended her lipstick stained glass and clinked it against his for a second time. 

Shame was the most prominent emotion that clouded his mind as Imogen spoke. Of course she bore a familiarity. Young Imogen, daughter of one of the academy's founders. Beautiful then, though not as bold. But above all, young. Magni had already been aging out of the academy by the time she had arrived. She was one of the last ones to grace these hallowed halls before its subsequent closure. He had not known her well, from his recollection. The unbalance of their experience with the other brought a feeling of shame and guilt.

He wanted to offer excuses or a reason for overlooking her, as he had overlooked all the freshmen that year: the years of experience between them then. As he had grown older and possessed an iota more wisdom in his latter years at the academy, he felt it would be strange to invite those just coming to terms with the tribulations of age to his bed chambers. Least of all, a timid young woman connected to one of the two lords of the tower. To Magni, the explanation seemed sufficient. Finding the wording was another matter entirely.

As he searched for a way to phrase it while staring down into her eyes, a different feeling had subsumed the first: one he could not place. Even he could tell that she had not confessed this crush as a means of seduction. There was a hesitancy, a wall, between them. He was used to distance as a tactic, though he had always preferred a more literal use of it. He had travelled to other realms entirely to create distance between him and his harsh feelings towards this one. As Imogen tapped her cup to his, he surrendered the idea of offering an excuse.

[color=00aeef]"I offer to thee my deepest regrets for my disregard, Lady Frost. I only pray upon thy good nature to grant me thy absolution, so long as thou art aware that my fickle nature in my youth was not a reflection on thy quality, but mine own."[/color] He lifted his cup above his lips, motioning towards the very skies he called his domain. [color=00aeef]"And that a ten-year hath molded mine own temperament greatly, to appreciate true beauty and care where ‘tis found."[/color]

Imogen was… surprised. She expected her confession to be a way to wipe the slate and lay old feelings to rest. She offered him an easy fresh start with a simple shared drink and expected once she elaborated that would have been it. But rather than accepting her confession and moving on, or teasing her for it, Magni instead begged for her forgiveness in a way that left her speechless. A flush grew across her chest and rose up to her cheeks. She couldn’t recall the last time a man made her blush. It was the last thing she expected, unless it was from the alcohol, which it wasn’t. She needed [i]at least[/i] two more glasses to get there. 

She inhaled a sharp breath, diverting her gaze, and brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. Her eyes focused on the clear liquid that rested in her glass and the smudged lipstick along the brim. The way Magni apologized made her feel like a goddess between the way he groveled and praised her beauty, but also embarrassed and terrified that Jim would hear and never let her live it down. His words, while archaic and otherworldly, were like the declarations of love in old historical romance novels. Imogen could understand how women like Juliet and Elizabeth Bennet got weak in the knees. She appreciated the apology… [i]thoroughly[/i] but it didn’t calm old buried feelings, it just made everything far more complicated. 

Whether or not he was the most perfect specimen to walk the halls of the academy was irrelevant. 


[color=a8f9ff]"Keep talking like that and I’ll forgive you for anything,"[/color] she half blurted out under her breath. Imogen brought her glass to her lips, with or without Magni matching her, and downed it. She found she needed the liquid courage for something else entirely. Hopefully it worked fast enough to dull her mind or erase the fact that her confession of an old crush did the exact [i]opposite[/i] of what she intended. 

As he said, or thought, she was young and he was in an entirely different realm than her. Too young for him to have seen her on an equal level as himself. He sought people to warm his bed and she sought a companion but lacked the tenacity to go after what she wanted. It would have been a poor match that only would have ended in a conquest for him and heartbreak for her. But now they were both older… wiser. They had the capability to look back on their younger selves with guilt, remorse, and no lack of embarrassment. She just had to look at it from a practical and logical perspective… Or avoid looking at him entirely, and she’d be fine.

Magni smiled softly as the mood seemed to shift slightly. He had been told many a time by his own mother and brother that sincerity in an apology was a strong balm for a wounded soul, and was pleased to see that it had the desired outcome. Her eyes had shifted away from his own, and a flush of red brightened her pallid cheeks. No… this was the reaction he was familiar with. One that he understood far too well. He took that moment, that hesitation and contemplation before she spoke, to admire her efforts in her appearance… though, he suspected he would be just as taken with her when it washed off.

Her forgiveness was a bit surprising. Sure, it was what he had hoped for. He was elated that they were free of that burden, at least for now. His father, in a rare moment of drunken wisdom, had once tried to explain his own failed marriage in terms of a field of grain. When it rotted and decayed from disease and poor maintenance, it was impossible to regrow. His father’s lesson had been to plant his crop in other fields, until those too rotted. Magni did not desire that sort of life, not anymore. It was better to swallow his pride and clear the rot, in the hopes of a bountiful field to follow. But what was the rot in this analogue? His failing memory? But then what was the wheat? Fellowship? Companionship? Ro-

As Imogen lifted her glass to down another drink, Magni mirrored her. As the burning liquid soothed his throat, he resolved to fulfill her request. He let his hand and cup fall to his side, and took a small step to fill the gap between them. He craned his neck down slightly, just enough that his own golden locks draped down to gently touch the crown of her head. He lowered the volume of his voice, but it still resonated with the same strength and clarity as a clap of thunder in her ears. [color=00aeef]"It is not in my intentions to commit the same crime again, and yet I shall strive to speak in what manner is most desirous to you."[/color]

The air shifted as Magni took a step closer and leaned in, his imposing figure filling the empty space that lingered between them. Imogen inhaled sharply, the air catching in her chest. The reddening of her face grew darker. As every pointed word left his lips, hot breath caressed the flushing skin of her face. His voice, while deep and quiet, sent a vibration through her core and a chill up her spine. It took every effort for her to regain her composure and steel her nerves. She slowly spun around to face him, tilting her head back to meet his gaze no matter how close he was… [i]And jesus fucking christ[/i], his face was only a few inches away from her own.

Her gaze drifted from the empty glass at his side, up the rigid contours of his arms, along the muscles of his torso that threatened to burst free from the ‘I love NY’ shirt, until she eventually found her way to his eyes. There were [i]several[/i] desirous things the son of Thor could do for her, but she bit her tongue. Imogen was trying to be good, bury the past, and move on. But the closeness of his body, the quiet confidence in his words, and his piercing gaze made it difficult for her to silence her mind’s ramblings or the flutterings in her stomach. 

With him so close, Imogen found it hard to keep herself from touching him. Her self control floated out the window with all sense of logic and forethought she had moments before. Delicate fingers reached up to brush his golden locks back over his shoulder and reveal more of his face. Her hand lingered there, hovering in the air just barely above his broad shoulder. [color=a8f9ff]"So eager to please,"[/color] her voice lowered to match his. But where his tone was strong and dominant, hers was smooth like satin, pouring from her lips like a decadent wine. She let her hand fall, her palm resting on the incline of his traps toward his neck. [color=a8f9ff]"That’s rare in a man."[/color]

Imogen’s hand curved around the front of his shoulder and ran along the taut fabric of his shirt. After a moment of indulging, realizing it was the first [i]proper[/i] time she had ever touched him, she pulled away just enough to poke his chest with her index finger. [color=a8f9ff]"You, [i]son of Thor[/i], are going to be trouble."[/color] There was a slight challenge to her words that wasn’t fully intended. The hint of a coy smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she turned her head away to reach for the bottle one more time. She shouldn’t, but the liquor was making her pliant and relieving tension… It might have also been lowering her inhibitions but that part she was less aware of. 

The tips of her fingers hesitated on the neck of the glass bottle. This was bad. This was [i]really[/i] bad. Imogen’s goal was to end her crush and smother the embers, not douse her loins in gasoline and watch everything burn. Magni Thorson was supposed to be some vague distant memory, like how she used to cover the walls of her pre-teen bedroom in posters of Hugh Jackman. But there he stood, a foot away in the tower. A happy coincidence that he arrived when they sought allies? They couldn’t very well turn away a God, but it left her in a predicament she was [i]not[/i] prepared to handle. He was trouble. [i]She[/i] was in trouble.  

Magni could feel his own blood rising as it became clear that his charms still held sway in the world of man. Imogen's words, her lingering gaze, and her soft touch sent jolts through his body. He could not blame the alcohol, not yet, as his mind wandered. Just as she hungrily eyed him, his thoughts and eyes were ravenous as they beheld her. Her honeyed whisper elicited a gentle, low pitched exhale. He had forgotten the others assembled in the lobby so quickly, along with his purpose for being here. He had stumbled upon a new quest, but one equally as noble in his estimation. As his mind considered the positions he would like to pin her in, his whisper answered her. [color=00aeef]"’Tis a blessing for thou that I am more than a man, then."[/color] He was, after all, a god.

But her second statement had been a little troubling. A distance, or another confession. He knew he could be trouble, surely. But as Imogen reached for the bottle again, he knew that their current pace would perhaps be more dangerous. Magni could handle his liquor, surely, but he knew mortals had a lesser tolerance. But he was in no position to deny another glass when it was to be so kindly offered. Something told him, though, that wasn't the kind of trouble she spoke of.

He decided to make a move, but not one so bold. In his younger years, he would have been far more forward and daring even in as public a setting as this. Instead, Magni simply sought balance. His hand gently moved towards Imogen's side, his fingers resting just above her waist to feel her soft flesh. He marvelled at the feeling of her form. His mind raced with other places he wished to caress, but his hand remained as an anchor to keep her close. [color=00aeef]"I have no fear of danger, Imogen. I seek it."[/color] This was true, but often the danger he sought was not the pleasant kind he spoke of here.

Visions of her own body, romanticized through Magni’s thoughts and assumptions, crossed his mind. Images of their bodies, naked and intertwined, flashed through a montage of various positions and locations. Imogen sucked in a sharp breath and diverted her gaze to the bottle that still rested beneath her fingertips. Sweat gathered at the nape of her neck as she tried to stave off her own lingering thoughts and switch off their mental link. But she was failing. She needed another drink, but she could already feel the warmth under her eyes and beneath her skin as the vodka seeped into her bloodstream.

Then his hand found its way to rest upon her, just about her waist where the dip in her shirt revealed the pale bare skin of her back. Magni’s touch was like fire, rough and calloused. His hand never wandered while his thoughts drifted to fantasies of the numerous places his touch could explore on her body. Imogen’s constitution faltered and her fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle, forgoing the pretense of pouring herself a proper drink. She pressed the glass to her lips and took a deep drink. [i]Fuck it.[/i] At that point she was going to be drunk either way.

Imogen discarded her empty glass and the half full bottle of vodka on the table. She raised her right hand and ran her fingers back through her blonde hair. She [i]desperately[/i] needed to get on top of him—the situation… [i]the situation.[/i] She sucked in a deep breath and braced herself, before allowing herself to look at him once again. While her mind was a chaotic clusterfuck, her face was calm, albeit still flushed between his words, thoughts and the alcohol… but calm, nonetheless. [color=a8f9ff]"Brazen thoughts in the presence of a telepath."[/color] Her right brow quirked and a slight smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. But she didn’t turn away or create any distance between them.

As Imogen took a swig from the bottle, his adoration for her only grew. The niceties of Midgard had their appeal, but there was nothing quite like drinking directly from the keg in the halls of his homeland. As she set the bottle down, Magni followed and set his own cup down. His other hand remained planted on her side, his fingers very delicately plying into the soft skin of the woman. He wanted to keep her close… especially given the vortex around them. He was certainly happier just focused on her, and he hoped for the same in her perspective.

Before she spoke, Magni had grabbed the bottle with his free hand and lifted it, too, to his lips. It was a bitter drink, but the buzz was passable. It was rude to leave anyone to drink on their own, and he was not going to let her think for a moment he was rude. But as the liquid began to sear his mouth, she had revealed something that confused him. Telepath? He had heard the term, he definitely knew it. They were like soothsayers of the soul… mind readers? That was it. Those with the power to read one's thought and know what they were think-

Magni turned his head suddenly, the liquor catching in his throat. He spluttered it out in a mist behind him, his choking deafening in the echoing lobby. It took him a moment to regain his breathing function, his mind ringing with surprise and amusement. [color=00aeef]"Thou hast had me at thy mercy, it seems."[/color] His tone was jovial, taking humor in the circumstance. She had been reading his thoughts. He had no real secrets to hide. He had only been thinking about fu-

[i]Oh. Oh no[/i]

Magni's cheeks burned hotter than before, and he quickly removed his hand from her side to rub the back of his neck. It, too, seemed to burn hot to his touch. The apologies cycled through his brain, intermixed with recollections of what exactly he had been thinking about. This then sent his brain into overdrive, desperately trying to push the thought of Imogen's body from his mind. Of course, it had the opposite effect. He swore at himself internally, opting to quickly speak some form of apology lest her opinion of him be further marred. He spoke softly, but the words could not come out fast enough. [color=00aeef]"I was ignorant of thy talents. I did not intend any offense with my thoughts. Thou art a remarkable beauty, and it has been a time since I… well…"[/color] His stammering fizzled out as he glanced back at Imogen, his eyes carefully searching her face for a reaction. He was defenseless, his facade dropping at the thought of causing this former admirer further distress. He had let his youthful vigor guide his actions yet again.

A hand shot up to cover Imogen’s mouth as she tried to hold back laughter, but failed miserably. Her eyes lit up and a smile of genuine amusement crossed her lips. Her other palm pressed to her abdomen as she nearly doubled over. She couldn’t recall the last time she laughed quite like that. Part of her felt bad it was at Magni’s expense, but the moment of pure enjoyment was like popping a cork on a champagne bottle and letting all her tensions and stresses fly away in the explosion. 

When she managed to catch her breath, Imogen’s hand lightly rested on the Asgardian’s shoulder, hoping to relieve some of his concerns. [color=a8f9ff]"I’m not offended,"[/color] she reassured him with a genuine, light hearted smile. [color=a8f9ff]"I should have said something sooner, but I found your thoughts… [i]entertaining.[/i]"[/color] she admitted with a guilty shrug. Seeing into someone’s mind as they thought of her in every sexual predicament would probably bother a lot of people. And maybe if it was some random man or something she’d be bothered, but it was Magni… The single person she was desperate to have think of her that way a decade ago. It was a bit alarming and offputting, but mostly flattering in a ‘she now needed a cold shower’ sort of way.

[color=a8f9ff]"But, I should warn you, [i]Magni Thorson.[/i]"[/color] Her voice dropped to a hushed tone as his name rolled off her tongue like skin running over silk. Imogen’s hand trailed down from his shoulder to rest on his chest. A single finger tapped against his firm muscles in a gentle, tantalizing warning. [color=a8f9ff]"I am [i]not[/i] some conquest like from your days at the academy."[/color] Her gaze slowly trailed up his chest to find his blue eyes hidden in a sea of flushing skin. [color=a8f9ff]"I’m a trophy… The [i]prize.[/i]"[/color] Her finger tapped his chest once more as her brows rose slightly. [color=a8f9ff]"Remember that."[/color]

Magni tried, with great failure, to stem the tides of his arousal at Imogen’s touch. He was pleased that his lecherous thoughts proved to be amusement for the woman, though that felt a touch like deserved mockery. But her threat, if it could be called that, was a puzzling one for him. Talk of conquest and prize, mixed with the intimate caress and tapping of his torso, left the godling baffled. It took him a moment before he understood the deeper implication. His mouth moved faster than his mind. [color=00aeef]"Thou wishes… to be cherished, not won over for fleeting revelry."[/color] The realization seemed to astound even Magni, not for the notion, but for the mere fact that he was able to parse those feelings. The thought may have hit a little too close to home. But even these thoughts he could not muster in any meaningfully clear way.

What did manifest clearly, though, was an internal struggle. For, with all the flirting and confusion since he had landed on these grounds, he was here for a purpose. He was here, in Midgard, to find his King as Prince of Asgard. His father was last seen by Heimdall on Earth, but then seemed to disappear as if into thin air. His obligations were foremost to his family. While diversions were a welcome distraction, he did not even know where to begin his search. He had come here for help. He needed allies. A telepath would be a fitting one. [color=00aeef]"It would be mine greatest honour to serve thou… but I have sworn an oath to find my father, the King of Asgard. He hath gone missing in these lands. I must seek an audience with the heroes of this realm, before I can take upon myself another… noble cause."[/color] He seemed pained to have to deny a worthy challenge, but he had another calling. He could not ask a brave woman such as this to leave behind her own aspirations to aid him.

[i]And there it was.[/i] Imogen’s smile faded slightly, shifting into something a bit more tight lipped and absent her previously flirtatious glances. Her hand slipped from his chest, putting a bit more space between them. The games were a fun diversion, but as he mentioned there were more pressing issues. Knowing he wasn’t capable of anything beyond fleeting passion helped finally bury the decade old feelings… Although it stoked the fires furiously before letting it die. 

Imogen cleared her throat and took a subtle step backwards, needing to put more space between herself and Magni. It took a moment for her to wrap her mind around everything and find her footing, having been thrown off kilter by their whole exchange. [color=a8f9ff]"Wait."[/color] She held up her hand as the dots connected. [color=a8f9ff]"You’re not here because of the signal?"[/color] Her brows furrowed at the wild coincidence of him arriving at the moment of their meeting. All for his… [i]hammer?[/i]

Another laugh escaped her lips, but that time it wasn’t out of amusement, more at the way things aligned almost like divine intervention… Although the God standing before her didn’t have a fucking clue. [color=a8f9ff]"Magni, we’re all here because of the disappearances."[/color] She motioned toward everyone in the room but quickly realized he might not have a clue about those either, aside from Thor. [color=a8f9ff]"Heroes have been going missing for months… Years. Batman, Spider-Man, Superman. My dad… Yours?"[/color] Her hand vaguely gestured toward him. [color=a8f9ff]"There aren’t many of us left."[/color]

Signal? He had not seen any bonfires nearby. He was uncertain how these Midgardians had attempted to call him, but it certainly was by no means he had noticed in other realms or even in his time again on Earth. But as Imogen spoke of their plight, his eyes scanned the room more fully now. The large metal suit, familial resemblances. Magni’s eyes even settled on an old friend, and it took great self-restraint to not charge Tobias for an embrace. The heroes of this realm, too, were disappearing without a trace. Magni seemed to straighten his back slightly, standing to his full height as he felt an anger boil from deep within. An anger, mixed with a small hint of excitement. He had spent the last decades seeking glory on his own… but he missed a proper hunt. A hunt required companions, friends, allies. By chance, he had managed to find a room full of them.

Magni, the warrior prince of Asgard, turned his gaze back to Imogen. The embarrassment, the lust, and the fear were all burned away by a renewed vigor. He had feared having to plead his case to the suited people of whatever restrictive organization the people of this realm had placed all their hope in. But here, among peers, he felt comfortable. With a glint in his eyes, Magni spoke confidently. [color=00aeef]"Then I have arrived at an opportune moment."[/color] He lifted a hand, firmly placing it on Imogen’s shoulder as his expression had grown grave. [color=00aeef]"Our causes may be aligned. And it would be my honor and obligation to enlist my services in searching for our missing kin."[/color] He had hoped for assistance, but could not have expected this to be the situation in Midgard. The possibility to fulfill his quest with an old friend, fellow heroes, and maybe even get to know this Imogen better was beyond his tempered expectations from this journey.

Maybe… there was room for a prize at the end of all this.
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