driftfleet | (no subject)

Who: Loki
Broadcast: Yes
Action: On the Vanquish
When: Current

[Action]
[As getting unceremoniously deposited in another realm goes, this doesn't even make Loki's top ten. No one's shooting at him. He didn't get sucked through a black hole. He's not even anywhere close in space, if the stars are any judge. And so the stay on the Marsiva is downright... relaxing once he breathes through his moment of oh Hell at thinking he's been dragged onto the ship he and Thor had just seen.

(And where is Thor, by the way? Well, they tend to run across each other eventually, despite either of their best efforts.)

And then he gets dumped onto yet another, much smaller ship. With confetti.

He's really tired of getting thrown around. He'd like to stab someone over it, really. But it's the same game as Sakaar: Get the lay of the land. Play it externally nice. Figure out how to claw to the top and stick a sharp dagger into the right person's back. And so on.

And in the meantime... guided by an urge he doesn't quite understand, he finds himself in the ship's kitchen, still having avoided the occupants--he knows there are some, since he can smell them--and confronted with the primitive setup. And ingredients. And an itch in his fingers and the back of his brain. And... well.

Two hours later, he's staring broodily at a very fine Smörgåstårta and wondering just what is even going on.]

This has got to be one of the odder things that's ever happened to me.

[He's bemused. He didn't even do anything this time.

And Smörgåstårta is a good listener. Apparently.]

[Network]
[He might as well make the most of this bizarre situation, Loki decides. Start the ingratiating and figuring out the social dynamics of this spatial armpit, all that. He takes a very nice picture of the Smörgåstårta and deposits it onto the network, with a message:]

Dinner is served.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He's feeling a bit frantic now. He's got something of a thing about this that he is never, ever, ever going to explain to Thor. Nope. But. Trying to maintain his poise in front of his brother has definitely taken a back seat in the concerns.

...Thor, honestly. But there has to be a better solution. It's not like Thor is a delicate touch.]

Are you certain you did it correctly? You're not exactly known for your finesse. [Being snippy at Thor, his favorite comfort.]

[Wow, come on. Thor gets a little insulted by that.]

I may not have your skill with daggers, Loki, but I know how to stab myself in the neck.

[Or would have if he'd been able to force himself to get the knife that close. He gets up from his seat and crosses over to where Loki is, since the other man looks likely to vibrate out of his skin at this rate.]

It does - something, to you, if you try it. A terrible feeling.

Something surgical isn't so simple as stabbing. [Honestly, Thor. Honestly. But it's a bit of a distraction from being upset that there's a thing in him.]

There must be some means to remove it.

[Loki's talking to a guy who tried to physically rip the obedience disk off his neck. He is not about the careful approach. Thor rubs the back of his own head absently, feeling the bump of the augment there.]

If there were, someone would have told me already. All I was told when I arrived here was not to try removing it. And since that was ages ago, I didn't feel as great a need then to remove it.

[That changed after he remembered the last two years, hence the attempted knifing. It occurs to Thor that his timelines won't make sense, so he adds:]

I've been in the Fleet for about two months, Loki. But in that time I've also remembered two years worth of events from home. Time isn't like Sakaar here, but it does not pass back home while we're in the Fleet.

[That particular temporal puzzle is enough of a distraction that it gets Loki to stop picking at his neck while he contemplates it.]

I suppose that's possible, assuming a differential of time...

[At which point he starts staring abstractedly off into space, an expression on his face that indicates I am thinking about some serious maths, here.]

[That would be Thor's cue to go and actually have some of that cake, now that the augment crisis is on hold, if not averted. He grabs a knife from the table and works on cutting out a slice.]

It is more complicated than just that. There are some people from our universe here, but none from the exact time we are. The Avengers-- [And he points the knife at Loki, don't think they aren't going to have a Discussion about that] --are from a year behind us. Others here that they know are from decades earlier.