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It was a beautiful day. A beautiful, outdoors-worthy kind of day. And it was completely due to the fact that Sif was once again a woman. She hadn't gone to find one of her new female friends for clothes yet, or gone back home to get her own gear, and so Sif was sporting the same diminutive training garb Natasha had lent her weeks ago. However, this time she had paired the clothes with some peculiar shoewear, platforms that held onto the feet by a simple strap between your big toe and the rest - the lady at the shop had called them 'flip flops'. Egged on by her so casual attire, Sif had gone outside instead of heading for the training room, to walk the grounds and catch some sunlight.
With this wonderful day it was even fitting that her clothes exposed some of her midriff and calves. Her hair was flowing uncharacteristically lose behind her back and Sif more glided than walked through the grass. Really it was all relief. While she had enjoyed herself as a man Sif had began to wonder if she would never go back to who she really was, who she felt like. Even despite the embarrassment of having had her pants drop in front of strangers, and her top cover very little of her breasts, Sif had not felt so good in weeks. And, apparently, it was a feeling meant to last.
With this wonderful day it was even fitting that her clothes exposed some of her midriff and calves. Her hair was flowing uncharacteristically lose behind her back and Sif more glided than walked through the grass. Really it was all relief. While she had enjoyed herself as a man Sif had began to wonder if she would never go back to who she really was, who she felt like. Even despite the embarrassment of having had her pants drop in front of strangers, and her top cover very little of her breasts, Sif had not felt so good in weeks. And, apparently, it was a feeling meant to last.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-05-30 02:31 am (UTC)"Right. Of course that's what it was." She replied, attempting not to sound too bitter. Sif was not sure that she was a woman of more elegant tastes or simply more pragmatic than most, and thus not susceptible to the elaborate (yet transparent) way Fandral did things. Not to mention the fact that she had never been the least bit attracted to the man, of course. And while Loki was right in his assumptions as to how to reach her heart, Sif could not come up with firm ways in which to achieve it. "I don't think there are any clear keys to my heart." Sif blurted out, more as a musing than a clear reply to what Loki had said. Now she wondered, and in wondering she was again confronted by how different the men whom she had given her heart - or part of it - to were. With ease she could list honour among the things she treasured, but then Loki wasn't that known for being honourable and yet... This was an exercise in frustration, Sif concluded with an eyeroll and a deep sigh.
The subject had turned a bit lighter again, and Sif found her smile creeping back into her features. It was eerie how conversations about bloodying someone's clothes got her in good spirits, but that was something better left unexamined. "Unlike certain other soldiers I never felt the obligation to go easy on either of Odin's sons. You would learn nothing if I had." She replied with a smirk.