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This door was interesting.
Instead of leading to another place in the hotel, he found himself somewhere altogether different. For a moment, Loki wondered if this was going to be another form of being stranded - that he was hopping from one universe to the next, cutting himself further and further away from the world he knew, and making his way back would be a long and arduous journey. This did occur to him. He shut the door behind him anyway, and did not bother to open it again.
He stood outside of what looked to be a storefront. Like everything else he had come across lately it was Midgardian in its smallness and style, yet that was the only thing boring about it. The world he looked upon was grey and dim, and there was that sound, near silent but pressing in on the ears, of falling snow. Of course, it wasn't snow, and had been the first thing to tug at his curiosity.
Stepping out from under the overhang, he held out his hand, which looked startlingly pale in the light, and touched the ash that landed in his palm. He smeared it slightly. It wasn't volcanic, he didn't think. While the world was cool and dim he could feel a heat burning, though he wasn't sure where from.
"I think I like this place," he decided aloud. Loki did not feel alone, instead sensed that there was someone in his blind spot, hovering. Wherever he did not look he was missing a secret, a hidden danger, and that alone thrilled him. Caution be damned; he was tired of it. He set off, leaving bootprints in the ash.
Instead of leading to another place in the hotel, he found himself somewhere altogether different. For a moment, Loki wondered if this was going to be another form of being stranded - that he was hopping from one universe to the next, cutting himself further and further away from the world he knew, and making his way back would be a long and arduous journey. This did occur to him. He shut the door behind him anyway, and did not bother to open it again.
He stood outside of what looked to be a storefront. Like everything else he had come across lately it was Midgardian in its smallness and style, yet that was the only thing boring about it. The world he looked upon was grey and dim, and there was that sound, near silent but pressing in on the ears, of falling snow. Of course, it wasn't snow, and had been the first thing to tug at his curiosity.
Stepping out from under the overhang, he held out his hand, which looked startlingly pale in the light, and touched the ash that landed in his palm. He smeared it slightly. It wasn't volcanic, he didn't think. While the world was cool and dim he could feel a heat burning, though he wasn't sure where from.
"I think I like this place," he decided aloud. Loki did not feel alone, instead sensed that there was someone in his blind spot, hovering. Wherever he did not look he was missing a secret, a hidden danger, and that alone thrilled him. Caution be damned; he was tired of it. He set off, leaving bootprints in the ash.