With nothing to bring with him but the clothes on his back (and an entirely unnecessary selection of knives) there is nothing to unpack. Loki had lingered barely long enough to walk the floors of his new living quarters and craft a glamoured Midgardian set of clothes for this first venture into the city of wishes. Perhaps in defiance of Thor's opinion, he'd chosen the same all-black suit he'd worn on his last trip to Midgard, because it is in fact very stylish, and what does Thor know about style anyway?

He'd passed a number of busy places that hadn't caught his interest, but any establishment that billed itself as "Good Times" must have something to hide, Loki had reasoned, and so he'd gone in. Thus far, he hadn't found what that hidden side might be, people seem to come here with the intention of strapping wheels to their feet, but he has noticed someone interesting in the circling crowd. He can't pinpoint her race, she isn't from one of the Nine Realms, but she isn't of Earth either and that in itself makes her more interesting than most.

Loki waits until she's had her fill of circles and ventures over to lean against the wall that separates the skaters from the observers. "You have a talent for this pastime," he says. "Did you learn in this city, or were you already acquainted with it?"