"Claim the title...is there a battle to the death ceremony, tournament style, the last one standing claims the privilege?" Loki is, of course joking, but the thoughtful expression on his face suggested that he wished people would vie for his attention on a similar level. Maybe not to the death, but to humor him with some kind of display.

Of course there's only one sibling he even remotely cared about, but Thor had done quite a bit and more to earn it. Of course Loki also had to work very hard to earn the title brother as well, even at the best of times he wasn't entirely certain he deserved it.

But family. Complicated things. That was always the story.

"Hmm..." Loki thought idly about what he wanted, the tip of an index finger tapping the head of a warder, or a rook, biting its shield like some kind of Viking berserker, "...it's been a while since anyone's taken me on a date for breakfast."

Of all the things he could ask for the thing that he liked was breakfast food.

"Oh? Maturity is a virtue, one that comes with so many rules...so many people have so many things to say about maturity and what it means," obviously Loki wasn't a stickler when it came to rules, responsibility was often a suggestion, but he did his best in his own way. Responsibility was a balancing act.

Of course all maturity flew out the window the moment Damian conceded that his face was attractive, no matter how blasé he was, "it's so sweet of you to give me hope."