Only in extreme cases did Loki feel the awkwardness of being out of place; hailing from the royal family in Asgard put into motion the supposition that you belonged anywhere you happened to be, at least unconsciously. Sitting in a bar in a world he could not place was in no means extreme enough to put Loki on edge.

He noted her movements without even having to think about it. She certainly didn't jump at his request, but he didn't mind that. Worrying about what other people thought of you suggested you cared enough, and if she wasn't fond of him on sight he wasn't particularly bothered. "I suppose it must be," he said, raising one shoulder in a shrug. "Yours is to mine. Where are you from?" The curiosity was real. After all, he was still sitting in a small cloud of confusion, which was not a state Loki tended to be in often.