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She Searches for You- Chapter IIIIII.
It took Sigyn less than a day to find any sort of civilization, though it certainly wasn't what she was hoping to find. This town was small, little more than a handful of roads and buildings and so quiet that for a moment Sigyn feared it was abandoned. When someone came out of a building with the word 'Diner' in glowing, flickering script above it she nearly jumped at the sudden disruption. A quick glamour concealed the cut on her face and altered her clothing to make her clothing look less Asgardian.
The diner was nearly empty when she entered, a single bell announcing her arrival. A woman with greying red hair came out from the back. "What can I get for you, honey?"
When Sigyn opened her mouth the words wouldn't come. It had been many years since she'd last been to Midgard and suddenly she felt very lost. Something as simple as ordering food shouldn't be this difficult, but contact with anyone after days of paranoid isolation left her overwhelmed.
"Hey, you alright?"
The loud cl
She Searches for You- Chapter ITitle: She Searches for You
Pairing: Sigyn/Loki, Jane/Thor
Summary: While Jane searches the heavens for Thor, Sigyn searches the earth for Loki.
Note: So this is the sequel to My Fall Will Be for You. I have no idea how long this will be, but I think it will probably lead right up to the Avengers.
Sigyn opened her eyes to thunder rolling in the distance. The morning sky was mottled with shades of grey and dark blue, and the air was heavy with an oncoming storm. A storm. The realization knocked the wind back into her lungs and she shot upright. Pain laced along her ribs with every breath of cold air. Cracked. The fall had cracked her ribs and she would need to heal them before she could go much further.
And Sigyn could have sworn the thunder sounded like a war drum.
hey newton, gravity's flawedi.
starting anew from the flutter
and the sputter of lungs.
a vacant sea filled with feathers
and tumultuous clatter,
ribs in a treacherous pattern
resembling exiting rungs.
i want to wrestle the angels,
your tendency is the ladder.
involved with full indiscretion,
trading lazy for lace.
unspool the curse of the long-
limbs in a languorous flexion
i like the stab of the ankles,
you need the curves intersected.
opting to cull my extents
with trans-dimensional vigor.
spent my dysphoric corrections
on reconnecting lax ends.
lips in a spurious accent
feign a passionate rigor.
i tie myself to the anchor,
you extricate and ascend.
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