"I've known quite a few gentlemen - and one rather remarkable lady - who would beg to differ with you on that point," Loki said. "I suppose it just depends on if the people in question are warriors or not. Because there really is nothing more sad and tiresome than a warrior during a time of peace and safety. They do tend to mess with your glassware and disorder your books." He felt an odd stab of fondness as that memory, which he quickly strangled. It was no doubt just a symptom of being in such a strange environment and feeling a little off-balance. He certainly didn't miss his thrice-damned brother, considering how badly he wanted to insert pointy objects into various soft portions of Thor's anatomy.

He shook his head at his dinner, a wry smile twisting his lips. "I suppose in the grand scale of things, humans are quite ephemeral. If given to grandiose ideas about our own importance within the cosmos." He looked at his roommate, eyebrow going up. "Though I'm given to understand that there are quite a few non-humans wandering about. Might you be one of them?"

"A rapier," Loki said, putting just the right twist on his expression to indicate that he wasn't entirely certain what one of those was. Since they certainly hadn't been in existence on Midgard when he'd been there, though obviously he was familiar with the sort of weapons that Fandral preferred. "It just... turned up? How odd." He shrugged, propping his chin in one hand for a moment as he toyed with his dinner. "While I appreciate the advice, if years of getting screamed at by some very frightening, smelly men didn't transform me into a creditable warrior, I doubt that being here will have much better luck for me. We'll see if I manage to survive, I suppose."