Loki continues to grin, holding his tongue patiently to allow Hayden to try to string words together. For a moment he thinks of himself and Thor on the street in New York, and the handful of wide-eyed young women gathering around his brother for selfies. Naturally he was jealous, he always is, although in retrospect it's probably for the best that he wasn't recognized just then.

Pity Thor isn't here to see this. It might actually make him think a bit better of Loki.

"You've a familiar or some such, I take it? Well met to them, as well." He's curious, but questions can wait. The more important matter is that someone is selling statues of him. He takes a deep breath, resisting the urge to preen.

"Actually, I'm grateful. My stories are what make up my lifeblood. As long as I mean something to someone, I live. I hope my image brings comfort to whoever holds it, though I doubt I have any power across worlds." He smiles again, a little softer. "But with any luck, there's an iteration of me in your world who's just as interested."