I’ve been touching up/finishing older works to make into prints and I don’t know if I should go with type? Or if this woulds even sell?
((Not even lying I would buy either form. Both.
I would buy them both.))
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@justaskthenightcrawler-blog
I’ve been touching up/finishing older works to make into prints and I don’t know if I should go with type? Or if this woulds even sell?
((Not even lying I would buy either form. Both.
I would buy them both.))
Make me choose: thatweirdjewkid asked: favourite teleporting mutant
↳ Blink, Wraith, Azazel, Nightcrawler, or Psylocke
Inferno #1
Looking for Trouble
He frowned. “I did not hear of such news– but I have heard of the trials Mutants face in this realm.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I wonder how my brother happened upon this– and what possessed him to help you.”
“Right place, right time,” Kurt said dryly. “Though for me–I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And–who knows?” He flashed Thor a quick grin, teeth startlingly white in the deep navy shadows of his face. “What I have read of Loki is that he does what he wants when he wants to, so whatever reasons he has are a mystery to me.”
“An astute summation of my brother,” he said, and his voice sounded just a touch weary. “Tell me– did he still have a pair of shackles about his wrists?” He wouldn’t put it past Loki to have found a way to shed them, enchanted against such a thing as they were.
Kurt nodded. “He did--and--” his lips tightened, his face puzzled. “His hands and arms were blue around the chains. Who did this to him?”
Looking for Trouble
He eyed him, as if he was expecting him to become more damaged before his eyes. “How did you come to be my brother’s guest?”
Kurt settled himself a little more comfortably on the couch, tail coiled neatly about his arm. “If you watch the news,” he said pleasantly, “you might have seen the story of the Mutant riot late last night. I was, as far as I know, the single casualty. Your brother was good enough to pluck me from the loving arms of the masses.”
He frowned. “I did not hear of such news– but I have heard of the trials Mutants face in this realm.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I wonder how my brother happened upon this– and what possessed him to help you.”
“Right place, right time,” Kurt said dryly. “Though for me--I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And--who knows?” He flashed Thor a quick grin, teeth startlingly white in the deep navy shadows of his face. “What I have read of Loki is that he does what he wants when he wants to, so whatever reasons he has are a mystery to me.”
Looking for Trouble
Thor turned a look of surprise on Kurt. “Please, Kurt Wagner– sit. I am not your guest.”
Again, the one shouldered shrug. “Well–you are in a way.” he smiled and sat–carefully.
He eyed him, as if he was expecting him to become more damaged before his eyes. “How did you come to be my brother’s guest?”
Kurt settled himself a little more comfortably on the couch, tail coiled neatly about his arm. “If you watch the news,” he said pleasantly, “you might have seen the story of the Mutant riot late last night. I was, as far as I know, the single casualty. Your brother was good enough to pluck me from the loving arms of the masses.”
Looking for Trouble
The apartment was sleek, posh–utterly soulless. “Forgive me if I sit,” Kurt said, his tone making the statement a question. “I would offer you something to drink, but Loki does not have much in his kitchen.”
Thor turned a look of surprise on Kurt. “Please, Kurt Wagner– sit. I am not your guest.”
Again, the one shouldered shrug. “Well--you are in a way.” he smiled and sat--carefully.
Nightcrawler at Dragon*Con 2014 photographed by Lbc42 on Flickr.
Looking for Trouble
“Tell me of the truth, then.” he said, a frown touching his face. “And of anywhere you think Loki could be.”
Kurt tipped his head and then stepped back, holding the door a little further open. “Come in–I will tell you what I know.”
“Thank you,” He said, entering. He gazed around the apartment with curiosity.
The apartment was sleek, posh--utterly soulless. “Forgive me if I sit,” Kurt said, his tone making the statement a question. “I would offer you something to drink, but Loki does not have much in his kitchen.”
Looking for Trouble
His expression was still uncertain. Was this some sort of trick? He wouldn’t put it past Loki. “A guest?” He took in Kurt’s bandages and sling. “I have never known my brother to be particularly partial to guests.”
Kurt shrugged his one good shoulder. “Well–I can’t think of a better word for it.” A smile touched his lips. “If you are afraid I am your brother’s prisoner, Thor Odinson, you could not be further from the truth.”
“Tell me of the truth, then.” he said, a frown touching his face. “And of anywhere you think Loki could be.”
Kurt tipped his head and then stepped back, holding the door a little further open. “Come in--I will tell you what I know.”
Looking for Trouble
“Ah–no,” Kurt said, and his smile was even more apologetic. “I have not seen him today. He left this morning. Forgive me–” he gestured with one strange, blue furred hand. “I am Kurt Wagner, a–guest of Herr Loki, for the moment.”
His expression was still uncertain. Was this some sort of trick? He wouldn’t put it past Loki. “A guest?” He took in Kurt’s bandages and sling. “I have never known my brother to be particularly partial to guests.”
Kurt shrugged his one good shoulder. “Well--I can’t think of a better word for it.” A smile touched his lips. “If you are afraid I am your brother’s prisoner, Thor Odinson, you could not be further from the truth.”
Looking for Trouble
Kurt was on his feet in an instant, instincts dragging him out of the drugged sleep and leaving him momentarily desperately confused. A moment’s thought reminded him of where he was and what had happened, and he crossed to the door with some caution. A glance through the peephole in the door showed him a hulking blond figure that he knew very well by sight, though he had never seen the Thunder God in person before. “I wonder if he knows Storm,” he thought a little dizzily, absurdly amused by the idea–and then had to wrestle with the question of whether or not he had the right to open the door. Last he had heard, Thor and Loki were infamous for being the poster children for Children Who Don’t Play Nicely Together, and he wondered if letting Thor in would be a betrayal of his rescuer.
Kurt’s hand hovered in uncertainty over the knob, and then he made up his mind. He turned the handle and pulled the door open, greeting Thor was a smile that was at least part apology.
Thor was a little surprised the door opened– he’d expected Loki to be more cautious than that– and even more surprised to find someone other than Loki on the other side of the door. For a split second he only registered the blue skin, and was expecting Loki without his Asgardian glamour– but the strange yellow eyes and apologetic smile were definitely not Loki’s. “Ah– hello,” he said uncertainly, giving Kurt a confused look. “Is Loki here?”
“Ah--no,” Kurt said, and his smile was even more apologetic. “I have not seen him today. He left this morning. Forgive me--” he gestured with one strange, blue furred hand. “I am Kurt Wagner, a--guest of Herr Loki, for the moment.”
Looking for Trouble
“I do understand,” Thor answered with a faint chuckle, grasping the man’s arms at the shoulders and bodily lifting him up– only to move him a few to the side, out of the doorway. “You have done your job splendidly.” And with that, he walked inside.
The doorman sort of collapsed into his chair, and didn’t watch to see whether Thor decided to go by lift or by stair. However the God of Thunder decided to reach the top floor, Kurt wasn’t expecting visitors. He was still wearing the silk pyjamas and had fallen asleep again, stretched carefully out on the couch to avoid angering any of his hurts. He had taken the medicine, but he’d mostly been left uncomfortably loopy, rather than free of discomfort.
In a few moments time came a knock on the door, plenty loud enough to wake any resident inside.
Kurt was on his feet in an instant, instincts dragging him out of the drugged sleep and leaving him momentarily desperately confused. A moment’s thought reminded him of where he was and what had happened, and he crossed to the door with some caution. A glance through the peephole in the door showed him a hulking blond figure that he knew very well by sight, though he had never seen the Thunder God in person before. “I wonder if he knows Storm,” he thought a little dizzily, absurdly amused by the idea--and then had to wrestle with the question of whether or not he had the right to open the door. Last he had heard, Thor and Loki were infamous for being the poster children for Children Who Don’t Play Nicely Together, and he wondered if letting Thor in would be a betrayal of his rescuer.
Kurt’s hand hovered in uncertainty over the knob, and then he made up his mind. He turned the handle and pulled the door open, greeting Thor was a smile that was at least part apology.
Looking for Trouble
“I still have to do my job,” the man said, and his voice was almost pleading. “Mr. Laufeyson has asked that you not be allowed entrance, and so I can’t let you in. Please understand.” The man was standing directly in the doorway, looking up at Thor–but he didn’t look even remotely hopeful.
“I do understand,” Thor answered with a faint chuckle, grasping the man’s arms at the shoulders and bodily lifting him up– only to move him a few to the side, out of the doorway. “You have done your job splendidly.” And with that, he walked inside.
The doorman sort of collapsed into his chair, and didn’t watch to see whether Thor decided to go by lift or by stair. However the God of Thunder decided to reach the top floor, Kurt wasn’t expecting visitors. He was still wearing the silk pyjamas and had fallen asleep again, stretched carefully out on the couch to avoid angering any of his hurts. He had taken the medicine, but he’d mostly been left uncomfortably loopy, rather than free of discomfort.
Looking for Trouble
“I was afraid of that,” the man muttered, then gave himself a little shake and got ahold of himself.
“Ah, Mr. Odinson–here to see Mr. Laufeyson, I presume. Sir–please pardon us, but you have been placed on a restricted list. We are not to allow you to enter.”
He reached out, placing one of his large hands on the man’s shoulders. “I understand, and I assure you, you have nothing to fear from your tenant. He is well aware that no Midgardian could be expected to deter my entrance.”
“I still have to do my job,” the man said, and his voice was almost pleading. “Mr. Laufeyson has asked that you not be allowed entrance, and so I can’t let you in. Please understand.” The man was standing directly in the doorway, looking up at Thor--but he didn’t look even remotely hopeful.
Looking for Trouble
(This ties into “No Good Deed”, and I’m kind of pretending that “Blue Moon” didn’t happen, as it doesn’t really fit into the timeline I established for this story, for anyone who is reading :3)
The complex was nothing less than a towering high-rise of expensive flats and penthouses, and the doorman looked like the sort who could handle himself with all comer–but handling the God of Thunder was another matter entirely. “Name?” The doorman said warily, though he knew very well to whom it was he spoke–and where this blonde giant of a man likely wanted to go. The description Loki had left had been exact, and Thor matched it to a tee.
Thor smiled, the expression cheerful on his broad face. He didn’t doubt this man knew who he was, but it was charming to be asked to introduce himself. It didn’t happen often in Midgard. “I am Thor, son of Odin.”
“I was afraid of that,” the man muttered, then gave himself a little shake and got ahold of himself. “Ah, Mr. Odinson--here to see Mr. Laufeyson, I presume. Sir--please pardon us, but you have been placed on a restricted list. We are not to allow you to enter.”
Looking for Trouble
While it was true that Loki was undoubtably crafty, he was not so crafty as to manage to have an entire penthouse apartment to himself without Thor being aware of it. He had let Loki think his secret was well-kept and had avoided bothering him there, but it had been a whole week since Thor had placed the enchanted shackles on Loki, and in that entire week he had seen neither hide nor hair of the God of Mischief. In Thor’s long experience, this was never a good sign. And so he had had little choice but to seek Loki out, starting at the one place he could assume he would be– his apartment. Though its placement on the very top floor of the building was hardly a deterrent to Thor, he opted for the polite route of using the door, and this is how he found his large self towering over the doorman to the apartment complex. “Good evening,” he boomed politely. “I seek someone within– may I enter?”
(This ties into “No Good Deed”, and I’m kind of pretending that “Blue Moon” didn’t happen, as it doesn’t really fit into the timeline I established for this story, for anyone who is reading :3)
The complex was nothing less than a towering high-rise of expensive flats and penthouses, and the doorman looked like the sort who could handle himself with all comer--but handling the God of Thunder was another matter entirely. “Name?” The doorman said warily, though he knew very well to whom it was he spoke--and where this blonde giant of a man likely wanted to go. The description Loki had left had been exact, and Thor matched it to a tee.