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Who: Leto + You
Broadcast: Video
Action: N/A
When:

[ The video flickers on to Leto sitting on his bed, kicking his legs briefly. He grins when the video starts recording, pushing himself onto his feet. He tilts his head, that odd bird-like movement he often exhibits. ]

I have heard some interesting things of late, so I thought I'd put the question to you all. When you fall in love, can you only love one person? Can you fall in love with multiple people? Is love something you find yourself stopping after just one?

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[Amused:] You do have pretty eyes.

Leto, I grew up among the Aesir. I'm a bit jaded about beauty.

Edited 2016-05-01 02:40 (UTC)

[ He huffs lightly. ]

That is fair.

[He combs his fingers through Leto's hair, a bit meditatively.]

I haven't come to associate great physical beauty with the ability to string words together in an interesting conversation, either.

Many do, regardless. The connections are almost impossible to avoid.

[ While he's never been rejected for his wormskin, he's always consciously aware of how it has seeped into his skin, alien life for an alien boy. ]

[He laughs softly.]

There are not other men like me. [Not necessarily in that particular view, but as a whole.]

Do you hate your skin so desperately?

. . . I do not hate it or the Worm. But I hate what will come out of it.

Yourself, then?

[He kisses Leto's forehead.

His own skin, he would flat from his bones if he thought it would do any good.]

[ He closes his eyes at that. ]

Hate is dangerous. Love is dangerous. I cannot hate or love myself. Either one invites destruction.

Instead, you shall leave your destruction to me.

Lazy boy. Yoo are lucky I have come to like you. [His tone is teasing, but they know the realities of what Loki is.]

Edited 2016-05-02 20:54 (UTC)

[ It was selfish, he knew, to leave his destruction at the hands of another. Leto couldn't do it himself. The Golden Path restrained such actions. He makes a soft sound of sorrow, because it was still unfair, no matter what the realities might be. ]

I am lucky indeed.

[ Lucky that people exist that still wish to hold him. ]

[At that sound, he shushes Leto as he might shush a child, with a low, soothing murmur. And simply holds him a bit more firmly.]

Some humans believe my name the origin of the word lucky, you know.

[He's certainly fickle enough to fit the role.]

[ He breathes in Loki's scent. ]

Loki. Loke. Leug. To break. I remember those old tongues.

[An unsteady breath. Leo is too choose to him to miss the small shudder of his body. They are far too choose.

To break others, to oneself break. Either is an accurate interpretation of the word.]

All-tongue encompasses all human languages. The subtleties sit so strangely upon my ear.

That is a shame. I've always enjoyed the way language churns and changes one's tongue.

It is a curious trick of the mind. I can hear the differences, if I try very hard, and what I can hear, I can mimic. [But that requires a focus he normally reserved for other things. He doesn't care nearly enough about humans.]

My sister and I would slip into languages of old, if only to confound our handlers.

That sounds good fun. I should have liked to have done so, only my brother did not know any language that was mine to use.

I forgot that your brother wasn't nearly as . . . gifted.

[ Though Leto has always been fond of him, the large gruff man who took him in without question and forsworn them as "shield brothers". He's not sure that Loki would appreciate that piece of knowledge. ]

My brother is Asgardian. [Left unsaid: Loki is not.]

[ He hums lightly. ]

I remember.

I could wish that you did not.

You could. But we were made to remember, not to forget.

[ And there is a lot between them that they wish they could. ]

[there is only one thing about himself he could wish to forget, but then his entire life since would have made no sense. A strange conundrum.]

Another cruel trick of the uncaring universe.

There are many of them.

Mmm. Such as bringing us two together, like this. A good trick indeed. I could almost respect it. [If it didn't cut like a knife.

He strokes his hand slowly over Leto's hair. It feels far too good to do that.]

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