Revenge of the Flora, Part 17

Hey, Rocket!  Can we get a ride back with you?”

“Yeah, I could really use a lift!”

“Me too!”


“Come on now, you parasites!  You pile that kind of weight on my sweet ride and you’re going to mess with the gas mileage!”

“Hawkeye will give you some money for gas.”

“I will?  Hey, no!  Nat, no fair!”

“Sigh.  You know, Cap, it always makes me a little misty when the family leaves.”


“Me too, Iron Man.  We make a good team.  Bye, guys!  Be safe!”

“You do realize that we all just spent like a zillion hours punching and shooting things and saving the world.  I think they can manage to survive driving a couple of miles, even with Rocket at the wheel.”

“Yeah, but it’s my job to worry about everyone.”

“You really are the Team Mom, aren’t you?”


“I’ve got a Geometry test tomorrow, so I’m gonna web on home and study.  Aunt May doesn’t like it when I’m out late on a school night.  Bye, guys!”



Brother, it has been a joy and an honor to fight by your side once again!  The Sons of Odin, united, cannot be defeated.”

“He’s not my father, Thor.”

“The Sons of Frigga, united, cannot be defeated!”

“What part of ‘I’m a Frost Giant and adopted’ don’t you understand?”


“You may posture and prickle, Loki, but I will always be proud to call you my friend and my brother.”



“Capsicle, you maybe wanna come with me and get a bite?  Being fantastic is hard work!  I’m starving.”


“What else?”



“My friends, we have created a mighty mess.  Even the Ancestors in Wakanda never saw such a battle, or such a pile of produce.”

“What’s going to happen to all of it, Loki?”

82-let human female clean it up

“Well, it was all on account of one brown-thumbed mortal.  I say:  THE HUMAN FEMALE SHOULD HAVE TO CLEAN IT UP!

The End!

Loki in London, Day 5: Of Pussycats and Puddles

There’s an old Midgardian children’s rhyme whose entirety escapes me, but it involves interrogating a feline about his traveling to this city to gape at a monarch…

An activity we are apparently attempting.

It is NOT a good day for this, weather-wise.  Spring has exited stage left and winter is enjoying a curtain call.  There is a cold rain falling, and the humans are wearing layers of wool, waterproof shoes, rain jackets, and determined scowls.  This party must and WILL see the Queen go by.  Her route is supposed to pass this point at some time this morning, but lack of good intelligence about precisely when means we will be standing here for quite a while.

Every now and then something interesting happens.  A band goes by.


A second band goes by, playing a different tune, not quite out of earshot of the first.  Then some guards march past.


And people say my headgear is ridiculous.

There are horses. Sigyn loves the horses.  No, sweetie, you can’t call them over and feed them treats.  They’re working right now, love.


Now there’s something interesting!  Look, Sigyn!  Do you see what those gentlemen have between them?  It’s a great, big CROWN!   I could put that to good use!  If I could just distract…


But there goes the owner.


Harrumph.  You can’t tell me all those diamonds wouldn’t look better gracing my noble brow than those old-lady curls, august as they might be.

And that’s it.  That’s the end of the show, a lot of waiting and fuss for a few minutes of pomp.  The humans female is making fretful and tooth-chattering noises, so I think we are moving on to indoor pursuits.

By Asgard’s arches!   We’re stopping here?  I understand that the humans like to admire architecture, but do we really have to stop and take notes on a train station?


It looks very church-y for a depot.  It even has a holy-ish name, St. Pancakes.  I will admit that it is good to look at.  Everywhere one looks:  fiddly bits.  There’s a fancy hotel adjacent (MUCH nicer than the establishment the humans are staying in), and it is equally splendid.


I think the humans are going to be thrown out for being too shabby to breathe the air in here.  I think there may even be an admission fee for simply gazing at the lobby…

Moving on!  Our next stop is one I expect to enjoy–the very famous British Library.  A building full of books!  I approve unreservedly.

I take that back.  I was hoping for another ancient, venerable building, but this library is very modern, inside and out.


Ehehehe!  The human female looks very silly right about now.  She was hoping to wander through the stacks, admiring all the tomes.  Come to find out, one has to have a pass (two forms of identification required and she’s only carrying one) and any reading materials have to be requested at least twenty-four hours in advance.  No Medieval herbals for you!

They will have to console themselves with lunch.


Once again, the human female has misunderstood what comes with what and ended up with more food than she wanted.  Not that that has stopped her from gobbling it all up.

The humans will now have to content themselves with perusing the volumes in Library’s publicly-displayed collection of treasures.  No photographs allowed, but I am enjoying looking at the old codices and scrolls.  Some things are to be savored slowly.  There are famous religious texts, political documents, and the handwritten scores to some very hummable music.   The humans are disappointed that the book they most wanted to see is not currently on display.  My, I wonder how that happened?

Time for a good fossick in the gift shop/bookstore.  While the humans are bemoaning that they really haven’t any room in their baggage for more books, Sigyn and I are making the acquaintance of some flamboyant thespians from some of the plays of one William Shakespeare.  (For a fellow who has been dead for four centuries, he is amazingly popular.)


The one on the right looks like the human female first thing in the morning…

It is time to leave now.  This bookish day has been rather enjoyable, despite not handling any actual library books.

(later.)  What, eating again?  We have all ended up in a small Lebanese restaurant not far from the hotel.  We have bread and olives already, though we have scarcely placed our orders.


Sigyn is eager to try this smashy roasted eggplant.  I don’t trust it.  (What are those red things?!)


Hmm. Roasted meat wrapped in more bread.  Is this the lamb one or the chicken one?  Let’s have a peek.


(Several thousand calories later.)  What a nice surprise–the waitstaff completed the meal for us with a plate of fresh fruit and some very sweet desserty bites.  I’d show you, but the human female gobbled it all up before I could lay a hand on the camera.

Replete sigh.  Not so much walking today, but a fine day nonetheless.  I shall sleep well tonight, dreaming of how to liberate one sparkly overgrown tiara from a smallish nonagenarian…

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