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(no subject)

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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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.]

[ The bitterness seeps into his skin. Leto feels cold. This was never a problem before. He existed on the fringes of other people's love, what they could allow, what they could give. He never asked for more.

Better to survive on scraps than to get greedy, he tells himself. Remember an unselfish choice should not lead to selfishness.

He should extricate himself. Move away from Loki's gentle hands. Make it easier for Loki. But the choice was made, the damage was done. Paths among possibilities explode in his mind's eyes as he shifts through them. The least damaged. The least likely to have Loki suffer through his connection to Leto.

It can still be done. ]

[He isn't entirely certain what to make of this silence. His read on Leto is still imperfect, frustratingly so. But he doubts it is a silence that is useful to him.]

Oh, Leto. [He sighs the name with all the emotion it deserves, eloquent in its warm affection, with just a hint of frustration. Because he does know Leto enough to know some of his complexes about things, his annoying fatalism.] Are you the sort whose silences herald foolishness?

[ That sigh gets his attention. He's heard that particular tone many times. ]

No. . . . I don't know. I do not doubt it. I suppose I am uneasy because I am thankful for it.

[ A little rueful. ] No one said loving a God would be easy.

[Amused:] Ought I try to make it more worrisome for you in fairness?

Be uneasy because it is Loki and he has a crooked piece of wood in place of a heart. [He grins.] But let nothing go.

It is not Loki who makes me uneasy.

[ He muses on that. Leto has never held onto anything. He couldn't. ]

I've discovered no cure yet for a restless spirit. [If one existed, he'd be in better mental shape himself, really. And they probably wouldn't be in this position.

He strokes Leto's hair again, though whether the gesture is meant to soothe himself or Leto is up to interpretation.]

Is it not better to be restless and alert?

You tell me, Leto whose eyes are so clear.

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