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(no subject)

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?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I am human, in a fashion. Though I doubt I can call myself as such anymore.

[ And he doesn't. He is human, but he isn't. Being human but cut off from humanity is not always the easiest knowledge to bear, but humanity will live. ]

Profound? No. Suffering is just suffering. There's nothing noble about it. Therefore, I see it with eyes unclouded.

You are mostly less boring than the other humans. And can string two words together. [He laughs softly.] Call yourself whatever you like. 'tis for you to define yourself. [Though why anyone would want to be human is beyond him.]

[His lips twist in a rather odd smile.]

On that point, we agree.

[ He shrugs. ]

For now, I am the God Emperor.

More of a mouthful than Leto, isn't it. [He idly traces a little pattern in the air with one finger.] Is that a thing distinct from human in your mind?

Gods are always removed from humans. As it should be.

[ It's not really a title he gave himself. It came with his rule. Being the son of a messiah and possessing supernatural powers have convinced the Fremen of his name: God, the Worm. Both God and Devil. ]

How refreshing. [Save him from humans, really. They think they're so bloody special.] Though if you've no other gods about, rather lonely.

[Snort.] Not that having other gods about is really the cure for that, either. [Not when they spend their breath telling you how inadequate you are. Loneliness is preferable.]

[ He shrugs, a disjointed movement. ]

It's best to make sure gods do not, ah, multiply. The universe can only contain so much hubris.

[A very rude snort.]

Then you'd best curb the expansion of humans as well. A more self congratulatory species I have not met outside the Asgardians.

Though at my time, they're quite good at murdering each other.

[ This is like watching the pot rave about the kettle. ]

So are others. Humanity is simply more noticeable at it.

Because there's so bloody many of them. [Even Loki at his most obnoxious is but one person. Besides, he threw shade at the Asgardians too, gosh.]

It can't be helped.

[ Leto doesn't want them to overextend themselves any more than they would. And he'll take drastic measures to ensure that. ]

Though they know better than to test me.

Oh, I doubt that. [Really, he's just poking at this point, but he is still rather salty with humans being such whiners about him invading their stupid realm. And Thor's overbearing protective nonsense. Though that has turned out useful in the end. Though he will grant:]

They're nicely mutable though, I'll give them that.

Oh? Why might that be? [Interesting.]

[ Leto can understand it, but sadly he's firmly in the camp of humanity. He cannot stop loving them. ]

I am their undisputed ruler. They have no choice but to obey.

Now that is investing. How did you manage that? [Torture, he's guessing. Humans can't even agree on the color of their own sky, it's hilarious.]

It's hard to argue with a God. Even harder when they control the lifeblood of the universe.

[Snort.]

I'd say it's the lifeblood of the universe bit. In my experience, they don't quail to argue with gods at all. Rather above themselves.

That, and my father's coming was prophesied. It's hard to fight against the son of an actual messiah. People try, but the religion is hard to uproot.

A very different sort of religion than they have in my day, I would guess. Interesting.

[Has humanity somehow become less annoying? One could only hope.]

God, the son of a Messiah. I don't believe that's normally the way your species goes about it.

[ Eh. Give or take. ]

It isn't. But that's what people get for trying to play God. They end up making ones they do not like.

[A soft chuckle.]

Not the god they'd like, but that which they deserve, perhaps. [For their interference. Fools.]

What were they attempting to create, these humans of yours?

A special kind of human. One who could break down the barriers of time and space with a single look. That man was my father.

[ Though his father was the seed, the promise of greater things. Leto felt a brief pang in his heart. ]

A human native to magics. [Huh. Well, they've apparently been trying to make those in his day as well, too much less success. Silly humans.]

Did you get on with him? [Mild curiosity.]

[ Leto considers this. ]

I could not say. He left when I was born. I knew him, the way my mother knew him, the way my grandmother did. I knew him through his subjects, through his acolytes. I knew him as a messiah.

[ He loved Paul. Hated him. Wished that Paul had tried to stay, tried to love them. Leto knew why he couldn't, but the child in him couldn't accept it. ]

But as father and son? No. We were strangers.

Mmm. [He can all but smell that complexity. Idly, he wonders if Leto might actually understand his own horrid relationships with either person who could term themselves his father. That would require a willingness on his part to talk, however. Though presumably Leto already knows, and that's an annoying, disquieting thought.]

I wonder why he chose the path of abandonment. [He knows why the monster that whelped him did, of course. Tiny monster, too weak to bother with, left to the mercy of invaders. Ugh. ]

There is no need to wonder. The reason was clear.

[ Though it wasn't at the start. Paul wanted to avoid the trap, wanted his family to avoid the trap. Love wasn't why, not even close, but there was love in a fashion. His father loved their mother so much that grief had stolen away all his light. ]

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