>> 2. Pairings. He's old, like over 12 billion years old, and kind of intimidating looking and fucking tall. Intricate braids of white neatly falling down just below his shoulder blade. Chin held with pride, even now, even after everything. What else did he have but pride at this point?
Amazing he's lived this long, really. Pathetic he died the way he did but we'll not talk about that. We'll also not talk about how the Aether was taken from him again. So here he was back in sickly pale skin save for the half that's been burned in retribution of an action he does not and will not apologize for. An eye for an eye, they say, it wasn't Bor's wife but it was good enough.
Powerless, weak, and moderately enraged hidden as neat as his braids behind a mostly expressionless veneer. Was Malekith here upon his own volition? He absolutely was not. The Svartalfer wasn't about to throw a tantrum, though. He could bide his time, come to understand what all this really is, and maybe find something useful in all this nonsense. If nothing else, being in space was marginally comforting even if this disgusting universe continued to scorch him after death. What is up with that, honestly.
So he's just looking out a window. Thinking, contemplating, when someone decides to invade his incredibly large personal bubble. Head snapping over a shoulder -- fully black sclara and almost glowing blue eyes stare in silence. Waiting, observing, probably judging. Definitely judging.
>> 3A. Lights Out Oh. Well isn't this convenient? Darkness. Quickly followed by panic; chaos. Ridiculous light creatures. Take it away for but a moment and their world crumbles. Mild satisfaction were it more than a mere black out. Muttering things about life support; oh good it still functions the ship can still run and other such commentaries. Security is down; doors are unlocked. Oh? That gets him up.
Speaking of life support, you know what's funny about the term life support is that it seems to be catered to one type of life and you know what, Malekith is just sort of curious how it might feel were everyone else to experience what he experiences on the daily. And wouldn't luck have it that everything's pitch black, an atmosphere he's very comfortable with. Such a perfect time for precisely this kind of experiment. For science.
So while there seem to be plenty of people running about. Some fights, it seems, and all other sorts of nonsense, this one particular elf is looking for an engine room or something to that effect; noticeable only by the pale blue irises that pierce the dark. To no avail, it seems, but there has to be something somewhere. Hidden someplace. Narrowly avoiding various running bodies along the way on his search, he may or may not end up in some other place he probably shouldn't be.
>> 4B. Stuck Together Malekith is pretty used to excruciating pain. This doesn't exclude him from the effects of it but you know it's not nearly as debilitating as it may be for someone else -- which does make the threat of it an awfully useful tool now doesn't it? Particularly when you want someone to shut up. Which is what he wants. Right now. This very moment, exclusively. Staring blandly at the person he's been so unwelcomingly tethered to, for lack of better terms.
Sensitive ears, it's an elf thing, and you? Are taking up a lot of its precious hearing real estate. So whoever it is that's unfortunate enough to be stuck in Malekith's proximity might notice him kind of just slowly start stepping backward upon being appropriately annoyed.
>> WILDCARD. Idk, hi. lmao. Catch this delf wherever or hit me up on disco: yikes#4009
Malekith | Marvel Cinematic Universe | Inmate
He's old, like over 12 billion years old, and kind of intimidating looking and fucking tall. Intricate braids of white neatly falling down just below his shoulder blade. Chin held with pride, even now, even after everything. What else did he have but pride at this point?
Amazing he's lived this long, really. Pathetic he died the way he did but we'll not talk about that. We'll also not talk about how the Aether was taken from him again. So here he was back in sickly pale skin save for the half that's been burned in retribution of an action he does not and will not apologize for. An eye for an eye, they say, it wasn't Bor's wife but it was good enough.
Powerless, weak, and moderately enraged hidden as neat as his braids behind a mostly expressionless veneer. Was Malekith here upon his own volition? He absolutely was not. The Svartalfer wasn't about to throw a tantrum, though. He could bide his time, come to understand what all this really is, and maybe find something useful in all this nonsense. If nothing else, being in space was marginally comforting even if this disgusting universe continued to scorch him after death. What is up with that, honestly.
So he's just looking out a window. Thinking, contemplating, when someone decides to invade his incredibly large personal bubble. Head snapping over a shoulder -- fully black sclara and almost glowing blue eyes stare in silence. Waiting, observing, probably judging. Definitely judging.
>> 3A. Lights Out
Oh. Well isn't this convenient? Darkness. Quickly followed by panic; chaos. Ridiculous light creatures. Take it away for but a moment and their world crumbles. Mild satisfaction were it more than a mere black out. Muttering things about life support; oh good it still functions the ship can still run and other such commentaries. Security is down; doors are unlocked. Oh? That gets him up.
Speaking of life support, you know what's funny about the term life support is that it seems to be catered to one type of life and you know what, Malekith is just sort of curious how it might feel were everyone else to experience what he experiences on the daily. And wouldn't luck have it that everything's pitch black, an atmosphere he's very comfortable with. Such a perfect time for precisely this kind of experiment. For science.
So while there seem to be plenty of people running about. Some fights, it seems, and all other sorts of nonsense, this one particular elf is looking for an engine room or something to that effect; noticeable only by the pale blue irises that pierce the dark. To no avail, it seems, but there has to be something somewhere. Hidden someplace. Narrowly avoiding various running bodies along the way on his search, he may or may not end up in some other place he probably shouldn't be.
>> 4B. Stuck Together
Malekith is pretty used to excruciating pain. This doesn't exclude him from the effects of it but you know it's not nearly as debilitating as it may be for someone else -- which does make the threat of it an awfully useful tool now doesn't it? Particularly when you want someone to shut up. Which is what he wants. Right now. This very moment, exclusively. Staring blandly at the person he's been so unwelcomingly tethered to, for lack of better terms.
Sensitive ears, it's an elf thing, and you? Are taking up a lot of its precious hearing real estate. So whoever it is that's unfortunate enough to be stuck in Malekith's proximity might notice him kind of just slowly start stepping backward upon being appropriately annoyed.
>> WILDCARD. Idk, hi. lmao. Catch this delf wherever or hit me up on disco: yikes#4009