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Who: Loki
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: On the moon initially, but he'll be back to the Paisley soon, and probably on the Iskaulit
When: June 5 (ends June 12)

Video

[Video starts with... that sure is Loki. But there's something subtly weird about his expression. There's nothing guarded or calculated about it, a slight relaxation of ever-present tension that was never apparent before, perhaps. The best poker face in all Nine Realms is nowhere to be seen. If anything, he looks upset. Confused, worried, a bit scared. And he's out in the forest on the toxic moon, which is just great, let him tell you. No mask, but he's never needed one before, not that he's aware of that, or of the fact that most people have to wear them.]

Hello? Yes, this seems to be working. What a curious device. [Anyway. The point.]

I seem to be lost. Very lost. Where is this?

[A view of the forest, brief but steady.]

And--[Careful breath.]--who am I?

Action

[Lucky Loki, his augment has glitched and while he remembers how to do things--and the occasional esoteric fact--he has no idea who he is. Good news--or bad news depending on your opinion of his usual space asshole personality--he'll get over it in about a week.

Even if no one comes find him, he'll make his way back to civilization eventually and be very confused about life and where he's even supposed to be. Good thing he's practically indestructible. But eventually, he will be around on the Paisley, and on the Iskaulit, poking about.]

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But I want to know... Everything.

[He knows it's not a good excuse, even now. But his thirst to know things is all that defines him at the moment. Well, almost all.]

[ He smiles, bittersweet. ]

At what price?

Why must there be a price?

[Frown.]

What do I already owe? I have nothing I know of. [Not even memory.]

There is always a price for knowledge. Even more so for ultimate knowledge.

As for payment, I do not think you have it yet.

What sort of price, then?

[~~Only your happiness, your ability to care, your ease at making friends. That's all.~~]

Perhaps I could find a way to pay, so I might know.

No.

[ And his own strong reaction catches Leto off guard as well. He swallows. ]

It's not worth the price.

[He actually takes a step back, that was so unexpected. His hands draw in defensively, the fingers of one grasping for something that isn't there, an instinctive reaction he doesn't quite understand.

He licks his lips, suddenly nervous.]

Is it better to walk in the darkness, then?

[ Naivety. Childishness. Youth. It grated then and it grates now in the back of Leto's mind. There is a howl of frustration building up in him and he finds his infinite shore of patience being swept away. How was he meant to speak of this if no one ever understood him?

But Leto has never been young. Never felt the burst of surprise, the luxury of a learned lesson. He's never seen the world in new, fresh eyes.

Fools, a voice whispers to him, what are they in the eyes of God?

His shoulders slump. ]

It is better, I find, to walk a path that is yours than to borrow knowledge that is not.

[He laughs sharply, once. It's the most like himself he's sounded since this all began, though he does not realize it.]

Is it easy to say such things, when you know all that you know and have not had it all stolen from you?

[ Leto flinches, stung. ]

I did have it stolen from me. I even told you as much.

Yes, you did. Does the memory fade easily, of how it feels?

[He looks down at his hands for a moment, fingers curling.] I know not even if this is my native skin, though I do know that I have enemies, it seems. What a lovely thought that is. [To have enemies and not even know why.]

[ Another jab. Leto ignores it, speaking gently. ]

You have an erroneous outlook on knowledge. It will not bring you peace.

[So dryly, perhaps he is channeling himself for a moment:] Ignorance has certainly brought me no end of bliss thus far.

Hasn't it? Learning new things, exploring a new world with new people. Has it truly brought you nothing?

[Slowly, trying to think how to describe what is not really a thing of words:] It is new to me, as are they. I am not new to them.

When they talk to me, they have a conversation with someone I am not. And I do not know what it is they do not say, but I hear the weight of it.

I have been told it is temporary. Perhaps I am merely waiting to die... metaphorically. [This is incredibly frustrating.]

They haven't gone through this kind of experience. As such, they do not understand the changes that come with it. There will be a death of this to bring back the old. It is what you choose to do after you learn such knowledge that determines you.

[ He pauses. ] What you learn now is yours and yours alone. I would treasure it.

[He has to close his eyes for a moment because he's now succeeded in upsetting himself.] It is pointless.

Nothing is pointless.

Then why does it feel so? [He could weep, but there's something that stops him, something not conscious, but bone deep. And so he laughs instead.]

Because you have yet to discover the point.

And so we turn another circle.

[He's frustrated. He's upset. He starts to pace. There is no answer that he knows and none he can come up with that he likes.]

What did you do? Were you so surrounded?

In a different manner. My walls were already closed. I had simply forgotten that. Yours are not.

[And there it is. He's already coming to hate the sensation that everyone is in the know but him, that everyone knows things about him that he ought to know, and won't bloody tell him.

What walls? There seems no point in asking Leto to clarify that either, since he's supposed to enjoy his utter ignorance.

Bitterly:] Oh, what a fool I have been made.

[Or who knows, maybe he was always a fool, and he just can't remember the rest of it at the moment. The village idiot, perhaps. It's as sound of a theory as any else. He has no basis for comparison. He rubs his forehead.]

I shall cease to waste your time.

[ Softly. ] I have time to waste.

If you wish to be angry at me, then do so. I am here for you and you alone. I cannot change what is now. I can only be here.

Do I, if I am a toy that will soon wind down to nothing and vanish?

I am angry-- [And he is, he realizes. When did that happen?] I am angry that no one will tell me anything bloody useful, and I am angry at my own utter uselessness.

Perhaps I have learned something of myself. I do not like to be the butt of a joke I do not understand.

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