|eddie likes to (riddlethem) wrote in goagainthread,|
@ 2020-08-03 12:38:00
|Entry tags:||dc: edward nigma, mcu: loki laufeyson|
eddie and loki in vegas
Who: Eddie, Loki
Where: The Bellagio, Las Vegas
What: Eddie has a stalker!
Eddie didn't give an address, not really. It was just a text that said "Bellagio, Lily Bar." He figured even a private eye who might had never been to the strip could figure that out. See, there was no going back to his place in the desert, not until the girl who could throw fireballs wanted to meet him there. Until then? Everything needed to be out in the open. Eddie felt at ease out here. He felt like a maestro who knew all the players in the orchestra and which ones were falling a little flat. It was a deep kind of feeling that ran through this life and whatever one happened to him before.
So, The Bellagio. Everyone thinks of the fountains in the front, but the inside had a lush elegance that attracted fat wallets like moths to the flame. The carpet patterns were so twisty you could get lost in them. The ceilings were draped with gold, the walls had a way of being a little closer than you remembered them the day before. It felt haunted, it felt decadent, it felt like whoever got hurt there probably deserved it. Eddie's first show was in the building and now he was someone that did close up magic for the very rich and famous or some kind of spectacular if there was a gala to be had. The point was, Eddie had been here a long time and he knew all the faces. If anyone here was going to hurt him, he liked to think that he could sniff them out.
But, maybe he needed another nose. The magician from Alphabet City was willing to admit that he could be wrong (begone, small voice in his head that said he never, ever, could). Maybe he was just feeling something and it made him imagine a stalker. Maybe these weird memories were infecting his mind, his logic. Eddie didn't know for sure, so he wanted help. He sat on one of the couches at the Lily Bar in a red velvety number. His hair had a little bounce from the typical slicked back normalcy, but that was the extent of unkempt he let himself be.
He was reading the paper, or more accurately, doing the crosswords with a little pencil he stole from the sports betting boards down the way. He took up the entire low table doing so with his whiskey sitting neatly nearby. Nobody seemed annoyed with this and in fact, it was almost like that part of the bar belonged to him.