driftfleet | Video + action

Entry tags:

Video + action

Who: Loki
Broadcast: Video
Action: Marsiva
When: Current

[When last he was awake, Loki had been curled up in the bed he shared with Rogue, in the addition of his house they'd built together in Luceti. He ascertains very quickly that many things had changed, including:

No Rogue.
No wings. He can find no objection to that development at least.
Even if he could really do without the new set of scars, however neat, on his shoulderblades.
But there is this ghastly thing in the back of his neck now.
Definitely no longer in Luceti.
Definitely not back in Asgard, either.
Which is a bit annoying since he'd just been getting down to the business of ruling the place from behind Odin's face when Luceti had snatched him up anyway.
Someone's taken all his daggers. Smart of them. He shall find out who at his earliest convenience and then gut them with something far duller so that they can fully apprehend what a bad idea that was.
They took his books as well, somehow. Gutting will occur with the most blunt instrument he can find.
Oh, this is space. And he's on a space ship. Hm.
He cannot easily escape said space ship. Really, again?

New situations are, at least, interesting. The first order of business after a bit of arcane poking about to ascertain his imprisonment and its nature, is to find out more information so he can begin prodding the pieces in place to improve his lot and get him out of here. There's to be an audience? One part amusing (he does so like to manipulate an audience) and one part infuriating (how dare he be treated like a sideshow).

Well, there will be blood, etc etc etc. On a time scale that pleases him.

The most unexpected result of his initial quiet investigating is that there's an arcane signature about that is his. Something of his, something he has touched and bespelled, is already around. And he would very much like to know just what that is. After brief consideration, he decides to make a video broadcast (well, isn't this familiar, even if the trappings are different) since that will also no doubt find out for him if he is known by anyone in this place.

If he is? Well, he could always do with a list of chew toys. And if not? Could be very fun indeed.

Thus, video. Loki looking coolly amused.]

There's something of mine that seems to have wandered off and found itself here. I [will... no, let's be plausibly courteous for now until the situation unfolds a bit more] would very much like to have it back.

[Video ends there.

After that, he'll take a more thorough stalk through the Marsiva, trying to get a full sense of this new prison.]

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In this corner of the world, we say please.

[ It's a miracle it's not a snarl. ]

[What's this, a volunteer to be chew toy? He doesn't recognize the voice, but the hostility is like catnip.

Here, have some amused surprise.]

Truly? What sort of realm do you come from, that you so commonly say please to thieves?

[ Natasha would say it is a very, very bad idea to keep talking. He's nowhere near ready to play any kind of game with a god of mischief. Jim just huffs irritably. ]

Me? I'm planning to send the powers that be a bouquet. You like daisies?

Oh, so you come from a realm that enjoys and encourages thievery. I hope everyone does watch their purse strings about you.

[Right, as if Loki himself cares one way or another. He can pick pockets with the best of them when he's so inclined. But this is about the game, and playing the wounded party.

He's going to lay a bet with himself that this one is from Midgard, from the way he speaks. Thus...]

Should you not have asked after pansies if you wish to be cutting? Will I have to craft all your insults for you? I'd not mind so much, but I prefer to not put myself out so for someone I know not.

[ He opens his mouth, and then shuts it, and sulks. It'll end badly for him anyway, the best response is probably to ignore it. ]

[ Of course, the better idea is not engage, but he's like a starved dog with a piece of meat dangling in front of him. ]

Fair enough. Captain America. Pleasure to meet you. [ not. ] Again.

[If Loki thinks the Mind Stone is his, he'll be sorely disappointed.]<

I think not.

[Bored.]

And why would that be, pray tell, o mysterious stranger who mocks a newly abducted corpse?

[What an intriguing way to refer to oneself; the Vision doubts Loki is in fact a corpse, no matter what he says about the matter. Still, he considers his answer carefully. It won't do to tell Loki "because I am worthy and you are not", even if it is accurate.]

I hold it to keep it safe.

[Aw, it thinks it's cute.]

I've had a great many discussions at varying volumes with that meathead Rogers, and you sound nothing like him.

Pull the other one, it's got bells on.

[Oh, his smile is becoming increasingly knife edged.]

As you sound nothing like the one who held it in trust, I do believe you are lying to me.

Then perhaps you're thinking of a different item than I am.

[He hardly thinks Lokis sceptre had been left "in trust" to any human, after all.]

And what of mine do you have, then? It sounds I have lost more than I realized.

Can you think of nothing you have claimed and lost that never truly belonged to you?

I hope you like hospitals.

[ Don't mind Haruka. She's just leaning against this wall with her legs crossed and a smug look on her face. As you do. ]

[This has not been a very good month in terms of stepping forward into freedom and healing. If there was one thing Rogue had appreciated about Drift Fleet, it was the fact that despite her loneliness... it was a fresh start. Brand new, as Anne would have said, with no mistakes yet in it.

Then Tony had arrived, and that hadn't been so bad. There had been too much blood and pain spilled between them for either of them to hold anything against the other for long.

Then Kurt had arrived, and ripped open a scar in her heart and tainted all she saw with red. Remy had almost been a relief, despite the way he kept poking her - he was also someone willing to take her as she was, and she him.

And now... this voice. This face. She felt another scar - still new, still pink - rip open with the jagged edge of hope. Was it really? Could it be?

Her mouth formed his name, though no sound escaped, as if afraid to pray the name she had once shouted, screamed out by bonfire under false stars.

She forced herself to wait. She had to know. She had to be sure. Of course she thought of the pendent, and when it worked again - a wild surge of hope and pain - but a moment's reflection told her she had no way of knowing if it would just respond to any Loki at all...

Rogue knew, perhaps more than most, just what kind of vulnerability she would be leaving if she exposed her heart to any version of Loki who was not hers. She needed to be more than careful. She needed to be wise.]

Anything I have claimed belongs to me.

[Idiot.}

[And after a time, Rogue struck on something that would work.]

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

[To anyone who was not him, this would be a meaningless lines of poetry, written anonymously on a public network -- a joke, perhaps, in response to his query about something being missing. She doubted another Loki would even know the poem at all. ...she doubted her Loki would forget it. He never forgot anything.]

[He recognizes the words instantly, and they pierce through his heart as surely as that spear had on Svartalfheim.

He cannot take it as certain, but who else would know? How? It seems so impossible, considering he had only just seen her. What are the odds, that they could both be so taken? Perhaps, perhaps...

Carefully, he replies:]

You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

[...oh. That. Oh.

She'd listened to the poems he'd read her while he was courting her enough times in the year since he'd been gone to know them intimately. And, yes, those were the next lines. The most important lines.

Rogue fumbled with the buttons, needing visual and audible confirmation -- she couldn't believe it. She couldn't-- ]

Loki?

[The face that stares at him through the com is bare of make-up, and carries traces of further maturing - the kind of aging that taking sorrow gracefully and fighting through pain gives. It has been a long time since she has seen him. He may tell the differences more easily than she - as for him, he looks exactly as she remembers, short hair and all.]

Edited (the department of redundancy called) 2015-10-10 23:16 (UTC)

I loathe them.

This does not smell as a hospital does.

[Eyebrow raises.]

And if you are about to make some sort of joke about "playing doctor," someone may get flung out the nearest airlock. [It won't be him.]

What is it you have lost? Maybe I can help you find it!

[ she's a very good finder. ]

[For him, it hasn't been long at all; a night's sleep. But that doesn't stop him from smiling at her. It is still good to see someone he knows. He still wears her ring on his finger.]

Hello, dearest.

[ Hey, she mostly saw medical equipment here. She calls it like she sees it.

But, fair point. Haruka detaches herself from the wall. ] Is there really anything else we can do? Talking's free.

[For a moment, Rogue simply lowered the communicator, not willing to let him see her face - she wouldn't want anyone to see the naked, raw emotion there.

Love. Yes, of course love. And loss. Such remembered pain -- loose heartstrings with no where left, since the one they had been tied to was gone. And dread, a little too. She thinks of Jim and Natasha... she thinks of her fresh start. She thinks of the freedom she'd felt, to befriend or not as she would, and feels as if she has already lost some of that.

And of course, there's a little anger as well. He looks at her as if he'd seen her yesterday.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. He was always the one who left. And now that she'd begun to build a life without him, he'd returned. And she didn't know what to do with anything about how she felt, because also... love.

She shuts her eyes, does her best to get herself under control, and then raises the com again.]

You're really here. I can hardly believe it.

Something that has relinquished its hold on you, then.

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