She's greeted by the coppery scent of blood, rich and sweet and undeniably fresh. "Put it away," he hisses, eyes narrowed. "I don't know what you expected me to hand over, really, but you can't expect to be the only one here who is sensitive to such things."
She caps it again immediately, giving him a flat look. Other than him, who should she be expecting? She didn't argue, though. "You seemed to find it safe enough before."
Natasha doesn't rise to the snide tone. "Probably not that," she says evenly. It only made sense to check anything Loki offered her. On the other hand, she worries that she opened it to be sure it really was blood because she was hungry and needed to be sure.
What if it had clouded her judgment? "Only one way to be sure."
Loki gives her a long look, propping his chin elegantly on the heel of one hand as he swirls his wineglass with the other. "Tell me, Lady Romanoff. How many of your type do you suppose are in this city?"
"How long has it been?" he then has to ask. How long could she have gone being what she is without knowing anything about it? The lore, the legends, the lies and the truths?
"Oh?" That's interesting. Very interesting. "I wasn't aware mortals had that sort of capability, to manipulate your condition thus. Especially considering your...line of work?"
How much blood she must be constantly coming into contact with...
"My line of work is a big part of why they had to find a way to suppress it." Her job is a lot more complicated these days, though this isn't the only reason why.
"I might use the word inconvenient. Obviously it didn't last forever."
Natasha finally takes a cracker and some of the brie, though she has no enthusiasm for it. At some point, her lack of interest in food is going to become suspicious though.
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"I am Loki," he says. And then stops there. He's not of Asgard, nor is he of Jotunheim. He's simply... Loki.
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"...Fair enough. That's more of an answer than I was expecting."
She can't say it satisfies her, but it is what it is. She opens the flask.
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"You expected me not to check?" she says instead. It's not as though she has a reason to trust him.
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What if it had clouded her judgment? "Only one way to be sure."
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He couldn't be surprised.
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"You'll have to forgive me if I don't exactly know the ropes."
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He's curious as to what she thinks he wants.
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How much blood she must be constantly coming into contact with...
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It is. He'd be interested in examining her blood.
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Natasha finally takes a cracker and some of the brie, though she has no enthusiasm for it. At some point, her lack of interest in food is going to become suspicious though.
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