Who: Thor and Loki What: mini scene for gossip. Because Thor + phones = hopeless. When: backdated, after talking to Peter
Loki didn't hesitate. As soon as he pathed back to New Asgard, he headed directly to Thor's house to deliver the news. It was early morning there, but Thor was one of those disgustingly early risers, when Loki couldn't bother to roll out of bed until the mid-day hour.
He cast a spell to undo the lock and let himself in, looking around for Thor. With any luck, Thor could be lifting weights to remove the last vestiges of gained weight. Or his brother might be logged onto Fortnight already, for the talking of trash regarding other players and proving his battle prowess in a pixelated form. Not that Loki could blame him, but he preferred fantasy MMOs with magic to first person shooter games.
Or he could be doing something sophisticated. Then again, Loki rather doubted that. Thor was doing something very sophisticated. His attention was unwavering, small beads of sweat were crossing his forehead, and the very tip of his tongue peeked out while he concentrated on his task.
So into it, he didn’t even notice Loki was there until the final piece was done. “Loki!” Thor looked up, startled but with a happy look to his face. “Look! I have a hobby!” He waved his hand with flourish at the bottle next to him, a ship firmly ensconced. Sure, it was far from perfect, and he did bend the boat to get it into the bottle, leaving it look more like a shipwreck, but hey! No one was amazing at their fifth attempt...or tenth…
“What brings you here, brother?” On the list of ridiculous things that he found Thor doing, putting things in bottles ranked at the top. Loki's expression was pinched as he squinted down at what he thought might be a shipwreck within before he gave his critique.
"Stop putting rubbish in bottles," he told Thor, straightening up as though delivering a royal decree. "I am here as the bearer of bad news. Your friend Stark has fallen ill. It is all over the news. I have learned this from my friend, the Spiderling, so it is on good authority."
To prove as much, Loki took his phone out of his pocket dimension and turned it on, holding out the news report for Thor to read. At close range. Enough to make even a God's eyes cross. Like always, Thor had no idea where his phone was, so he was completely out of the loop so to speak. Eyes wide open, he forgot his ship and reached for the news report, moving his head back so to actually read.
“This is terrible. We must postpone the party.”
Yes, that is the first thing that came to mind.
“He must be receiving the finest care…. Should we send flowers? That is what Midgardians do. Chocolate as well. I am not sure how it helps with the convalescent but I am prepared to try it.” "Flowers and chocolates are sentimental but useless," Loki pointed out. "And you know well that Stark would be disappointed if you cancelled a party. He seems to attend enough of them."
Loki put his phone away, tucking it back into the pocket space. So it was as useless as Thor's perpetually lost or electrocuted phone was.
"Eir and I created a blood tonic geared toward mortals for Jane. Perhaps that might give him strength, even if we can not solve this problem."
What Loki wanted to say - and what was made plain with a stare of uncertainty - was it was going to be inevitable Thor would lose these mortals he surrounded himself with. The only destination that short path would lead to, was one of pain and sorrow. Thor nodded eagerly. "YES," he boomed out. "What an excellent act of goodwill. Of course we must share what we can. It will only enhance the healing, not provide anything more that could be seen as involvement."
He gave a smile.
"It is almost as if you care, Loki. I am pleased by your thoughts and actions. For what is a man if he is not helpful?" "We're not men, we're gods. And I don't really care for Stark," Loki pointed out, quite stubbornly.
Of course, this was a teeny tiny lie. He actually didn't mind Stark too much, and thought he was mildly amusing in a terribly short, fleeting way. That was due to Loki being a bit of a snob when he was being stubborn, and because this was more Thor's business than his own. That tonic wasn't actually intervening, which was good. That way it wouldn't reflect poorly on Thor if anyone found out, by some chance or other.
"Are you done insulting me?" he asked, putting fists on his hips. "I can take my leave and go forth to speak with Eir. Then you can deliver it to Stark's Tower. If that miserable hack sorcerer has installed one of his cheap novelty doors somewhere in this house."
Thor also shared the same sentiments about Doctor Strange as his brother. No one else seemed to though, so he kept his mouth shut.
“It is a portal. I do not see how it is any more efficient than my hammer but…” Thor shrugged. “It is in the linen closet. If at some point we hire a housekeeper, remind me to ensure said villager does not end up in New York by accident. I feel that would cause some sort of a diplomatic incident.”
He brushed his hands off and pushed himself away from the table, standing up. “I will deliver this once I receive it. Thank you for the suggestion.” "Very likely," Loki said, followed by a hint of an exasperated sigh. What he was leaving unsaid was that it might be a good idea to do that, since the Bifrost was nearly complete. The least they could do during a planetary emergency was make sure that Wanda and her children or Stark's child was safe. Not that any of the rest of Thor's friends had children to think of.
Loki wasn't vocalizing that either, but the mere thought of the sorcerer named Strange disgruntled him to no end.
"I'll go forth now. Unless there's anything else you wish to talk to me about?" Loki asked, lingering for a moment longer. "Hopefully nothing that pertains to my married life, or lack thereof Since you did mention that over the network."
He did leave the Valkyrie a gift to find, in the form of a curved silver knife with silvery gemstones. He stole it from Nornheim when he was younger and trying to impress an enchantress. The theft caused an itsy bitsy diplomatic incident between the Queen of the Norns and Odin. One that Loki lied through his teeth about, insisting he didn't have any knowledge of or a part in.
Needless to say, things soured when that particular enchantress ended up being as much of a double-crosser as he was. It was revealed that she really was looking for a way to get her claws into Thor. Luckily, it was before he gave her the knife. But the aftermath was that Loki was soured on relationships for a very, very, very long time afterward. And don't get him started about Lorelei. That was a massive mistake.
"I'm not taking romantic advice from my brother," he added, bitterly. "Your life is always perfect, as it is with Jane. Don't rub my nose in it." Thor was, as usual, oblivious to the mood his brother was now in. Loki had always been mercurial -- it was easier to not worry about anything. A few more comments in and the conversation path would surely change again.
"Loving Jane is both the easiest and hardest thing I've ever had to the pleasure to do," he stated honestly. "I only wish you the same joy…..but if you must go, go. We shall speak more freely at another time perhaps. Stark's life is precarious at this time." Mercurial was an understatement. Loki stared directly at Thor with heavy lidded eyes as though he might be thinking of a complex spell, to spare himself the indignity of hearing Thor gush about Jane and how happy he was with her and everything was perfect since they were so in love and....
Loki closed his eyes, rolling them under the cover of his eyelids, before slowly opening them again.
"Yes, of course," he agreed, without inwardly agreeing, which was a form of lying all unto itself. "I'm ever so happy for you. I shall return shortly with the tonic. Why not occupy yourself with putting more scraps in bottles?"
He turned on his heel and walked out of the house with silent steps, closing the front door and locking it with a spell. Then he stalked up the path to the healers house so quickly and with such a grim countenance, that no one dared talk to him.