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Who: Loki
Broadcast: Everyone
Action: Paisley
When: Right now!

[Action]

[Guess who just shows up to breakfast one... afternoon? Loki emerges from his office, looking for all the world like a man who has just woken up from an extended nap, barely open eyes, trying to stretch his back and shoulders, the whole nine. He wanders into the kitchen, fumbles around until he makes himself something hot and dark enough that he can pretend it's coffee, and stares suspiciously into the cup before drinking.

Ugh, his mouth tastes like someone glued one of Thor's feet to it. Ugh. What possessed him to sleep like this...

(Guess who has no idea he's been missing for weeks~)]

[A bit later: Broadcast]

[Awake now, and... well, he looks amused. Which is to say as if he's planning on flaying someone alive.]

Why yes, I have returned. Hide all of the party favors, lock up your sons and daughters, cancel the pedestrian fireworks displays.

A funny thing, missing time. You'd never know it was gone until someone tells you. Has anyone else fallen victim to such thievery?

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Nevertheless, I will not encourage the process. I do not think you are a monster, though I am sure you have undertake monstrous actions once. I am only here for you. I cannot act contrary for that.

[ He cannot and will not absolve Loki. He is only here to be, not to act. That being said, Leto wonders if Loki will understand this kind of commitment. They do not have any ties, save the ones made in another world. Words are worth less without some titular proof and Leto has none. And what he does have, he will not give.

He will not mastermind Loki's destruction, no matter how badly it is wanted.

While he lets Loki stew on that, Leto considers his next action and strips. Personal nudity (or nudity of any kind, really) holds little meaning to him. He has no shame, no social constructs.

And he enjoys "messing" with people, as they say. The jacket and shirt falls to reveal smooth, golden skin. But also, veins and the scattering of brown . . . leeches or worms, heavily fragmented and overlaid on top of each other, like armor. The skin breathes and sighs, a living thing molded into one terrifying rash that seeks dominion over its owner. ]

["I am only here for you." It feels like a slap on the face, and he draws back, like a cat that's been tapped on the nose. But that sentiment is far too reminiscent of other recent times, emotional wounds that are well nursed so they will never heal. His expression shutters, going from that relaxed engagement he'd begun to settle in to, the genuine hint of emotion, to that cold faintly amused smile that he wears when hurt and angry because he has been hurt.

And he laughs, because that's what he does when he's hurt or angry or confused. The world is a ridiculous place. He'd almost started liking this person, which is a thing he ought to know better than to do, really. Fool.]

You and Odin would get on so well. [An outwardly mild statement, as if just a point of conversation. It's one of the most dire insults he ever speaks and a shorthand for, you have hurt me more than I will ever admit.]

[He still watches for the answer to his much more minor question, because curiosity will be satisfied. But it's a more clinical sort of examination; he's doing his best to set feelings entirely aside, regarding this as information that might be useful some day.]

Interesting. The human runs deeper, then.

Edited 2016-03-04 14:03 (UTC)

[ Leto cocks his head again. Another misunderstanding. He sighs. Why was it so difficult to talk to Loki. ]

Not here in the deliberation of being here for you, or dictating your actions. I am simply here. Not to jail or blame. I do not see how Odin and I are alike in that. I am here, he is not. You both let go. I have not.

[ Was it really unclear? Or was it just like Loki to take an innocuous statement and see the worst in it?

Finally he retrieves his clothes. The ships were cold and they made him irritable. ]

To some degree. Not for much longer.

Edited 2016-03-05 00:12 (UTC)

[It's difficult to talk to Loki because he assumes everyone has perfect knowledge and is keeping up with his unspoken thought processes, really. And because he hates to explain himself.]

[Quietly:] Oh, that isn't it at all. Odin withheld a horrible truth from me for a thousand years, and congratulated himself for being so kind, so benevolent. And in so doing, he murdered his son.

[He has no stomach for such benevolence. And he wishes he could disagree with the statement that he let go, but he already had to confront that with his brother, and it's a lie he can no longer tell himself.]

Will you miss it?

[ Ah. That would explain it. Leto purses his lips. Loki did have a point, but so did Leto. Seeing all of time meant that he could not flagrantly interfere with other people's timelines. It closed off their other possibilities, limiting them to one path and one path only. ]

It is not a matter of benevolence. If I simply delivered the truths, I would cut you off from other possible futures. And even if I did, it is a truth only Loki can learn from Loki. You might already know it, but I cannot simply hand it to you.

[ Which leaves open the possibility of Loki dismissing him. Leto didn't like the thought, but rather to be hated and disliked than lead someone to their destruction. And he's no stranger to being reviled. ]

Hate me, if you must. Compare me to Odin, if you need to. I will not limit your future.

[ There. Now it's Loki's decision. Leto is starting to feel heartsore of it. Perhaps Loki will understand the magnitude of seeing all futures.

But then, perhaps not. ]

Yes. I will miss . . . being myself.

[Dryly:] Please, feel free to limit my future away from being horribly mangled again. I can stand to miss out on that. [Utter twaddle. Loki is the exception to all rules. That's the point of being Loki.] You are here. My younger self is not. Nor should I like to calculate the attendant odds that he will appear.

And yet you still might be less annoying than him, for all you have chosen to curse me with an itch I cannot scratch. [He's frustrated. He also knows that losing his temper will buy him absolutely nothing, so he will brood on it for later until he finds a solution.]

[A slight, curious twitch of the brows.] And who else would you be?

[ His lips twitch a little. Not a bad reaction overall. He shouldn't have worried so. ]

There's no need to be dramatic. You are Loki. I'm sure you can overcome those odds. I believe you can.

[ He buttons up his shirt, straightening the collar. Here I am, here I remain, Leto thinks to himself. Here, I exist in the now. ]

Who, indeed?

[ Eventually he will be reduced to the base instincts of the Worm, as it devours his body. Then it will break apart and he'll be reduced to a screaming consciousness. Never to touch, never to speak, never to feel. Just a voice. ]

Your confidence is a boon to my spirit. Though you seem to have forgotten that I've failed to overcome the odds once already. [You know, the bit where he's dead? He sounds almost cheerful about it, though]

Who, or what?

Have you?

[ As for the other question, Leto is silent. It is not a secret. He doesn't keep secrets. He holds other people's secrets closer than his own.

But he doesn't like talking about his inevitable end, his great sacrifice. ]

What is the difference between who or what? What makes it a who? Who makes it a what?

Died saving my brother's life, etcetera. [Like hell he's copping to that on a public network, even if he's fairly certain Thor won't be snooping to this extent.] Though if I've miraculously survived that, do tell.

[Hah. Now there is a question.]

Better asked of my lady, perhaps. She has taken me to task before over the difference between thing and person.

Will and agency seem to be the sticking point.

And yet you are here.

[ Leto has known those who have died and mysteriously returned. Loki being one, of course. One among many. Death only has permanence if you cease to exist. ]

She's not wrong there. What do you think it'll be?

I wish I could claim this escape was of my doing, it would be quite the coup. But it wasn't an uncommon situation in Luceti, either. Offers little incentive to wish to return to one's original universe.

Will that skin of yours bleed your will dry by inches?

Yours or not, you are here. What you choose to do with that is yours alone.

[ He laughs, bitterdust and sand. ]

Yes. In a way.

Edited 2016-03-05 02:15 (UTC)

[He flips a hand as if warding away an annoying fly.] Yes, even the part where I go mad, yes.

Fatalistic of you, to have accepted that. Surely as a god, you can at least manage the same level of poor effort as a Loki.

We are all a little mad here.

[ A bastardization of the Lewis Carroll line, but it hardly matters. Loki has asked the oft-spoken question: Why haven't you escaped?. ]

I could. I might. I will not.

[He laughs.] Do you wag your tail when you are angry and growl when you are pleased?

[Hm.]

Why?

Don't you?

[ Why? was another one. Why had Leto sacrificed everything that he is for the human race? He owes them no loyalty. He was an abomination by the Bene Gesserit, the son of a man who took the throne by force. He wasn't loved by his people, but feared for his powers.

But he loved. So deeply, so strongly, so unattainable that he could not untangle himself from humanity's skein. As he said, he is the most human. He lived every death, every life, every moment.

How could he ever let them die? ]

Someone had to.

Have you noticed me to do such a thing? [Such an innocent look.]

Why must that someone be you?

[ He laughs, a little more rich in sound and colour. ]

You may not have a tail, Loki but the wagging remains.

Someone had to accept the agony. Who else would it be, if not me?

[ The only other person was Ghanima but while she loved strongly, her feelings were for her family, for Leto. It would have destroyed her.

It will destroy him, but it will not touch her. Though, they are now, forever parted by fate and choice. ]

[He's over his pique enough for now that he can laugh, a real laugh this time.]

Because there must always be the sacrificial goat? Baaaaaa. [Good imitation of a goat.]

No.

[ Sacrifice is the right word. But Leto isn't fond of it, even though he uses it from time to time when he gets frustrated with himself. ]

Goats do not have a choice. I had a choice. It had to be me.

[So softly.] If it had to be you, old friend of my younger self, then it was not a choice at all.

It was still a choice. A terrible one, a fateful one, a damning one. But I would not call it anything else.

I should not. I lack the right.

The humans have an expression I think fits this: bullshit. Yes.

Lack the right. You yet breathe, or my eyes deceive me.

[ His lips quirk, but the pall of steadiness does not fade. He is not one to budge. He is the Desert Whirlwind and none can withstand him in his wake. ]

So do you. And yet you profess your death loudly.

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