smartass_captain

From:

Yes, a fine place. I enjoyed their krumkaker!

Hopefully they will not be dismayed to see me back so soon. I will await you there.

Loki wasn't paying full attention to what exactly Thor ate when they were there, but he did a pretty good number on the place's stock and Loki himself enjoyed the krumkaker, so it's a safe bet his brother did, too. He is sure the staff at the place will remember the broad-shouldered tower of muscle that threatened to empty the bakery case.

He's wearing Thor's form, of course, before he even gets close to the building. The eyepatch is a new wrinkle; he doesn't like it. He can see through his own illusions, as needed, but for some reason, the weight of it sits heavy on his face. It must be psychosomatic; seiðr is, in actuality, lighter than air.

When Jim arrives, he will see Thor at a table with a cup of coffee and a plate that's heavily-loaded with croissants, danish, and whatever else Loki could find that looked like something that would catch Thor's eye. He has no intention of eating most of it; his appetite is not a match for his brother's, ever. Still, he's paid and will tip like any good guest of an establishment should. Maybe he'll bring the sweets to Thor later, or give them away in the Nexus.

He beams when Jim appears, standing up at his chair. It's more the smile of greeting Thor would have offered in the old days, before Loki fell, before so many sad and terrible things happened to them. Maybe the trickster's performance is a little rusty, but his quarry has no way of knowing that. "Thank you, friend. I appreciate you agreeing to meet me here. Will you drink?"

He gestures to his coffee.