Who: Peter Parker, Loki What: visiting a friend When: backdated, late october/early november
Loki decided it was nigh time that he visited his young friend in person. It wasn't hard to locate someone's whereabouts using a spell, and pathing to New York very near to where Peter lived. Of course, he didn't look like himself. Instead, he resembled Sif while strolling into a nearby coffee shop and ordering an iced mocha, and promptly going to the housing complex and knocking upon the door.
With any luck, Peter would answer, and could be convinced of who it truly was under the disguise.
May had a late night at work, which meant Peter had a little more wiggle room when it came to patrolling. He and his aunt had agreed that on evenings where she was at the shelter till midnight or later, his curfew would be extended too. For Peter, it was a win-win. He got to stay out to the hours when crime usually got its roughest, and he could shadow May on her walk home. Since Ben, he’d never been able to shake that paranoia.
He was having a pre-patrol dinner of cold pizza and texting MJ when he heard a knock. He wasn’t expecting anyone, least of all Sif as he opened the door and peeked out. “Lady…Sif?” Peter blinked and then squinted, picking up on a few weird pings to his spidey sense. It was the same sort of specific hair-raising feeling that came out around people like Strange, like Wanda and even little Billy when they were here. Loki too, now that he thought about it. “Hi?”
The moment the door opened, Loki stopped sucking down ice mocha like it was the nectar of the gods. It was time to be Sif for a little bit. Or for a few seconds, since he couldn't afford to be too accurate with the illusion casting. Otherwise Peter might actually think Sif was there, and they couldn't have that. It was a social visit after all.
"Greetings unto you, young Peter Parker," Sif said, looking in around the doorway a little, to see if anyone else was present. "Are you alone? I, Lady Sif, wish to speak with you regarding a matter of great import. May I enter, or is the timing poor?"
Sif looked as though she was ready to snerk out loud, which was a good indicator that it was not the normally serious faced Sif at all. This became very obvious when she rolled her eyes and wagged her eyebrows a little. Hint hint.
“…Umm,” Peter glanced behind him like he was checking if May was seeing this too, but since she was at work, it was just Peter and the Asgardian warrior. He took in the iced coffee and the mannerisms and decided that his instincts were probably right on this one - he didn’t know Sif very well, but he knew she was a little more reserved than this. “Sure? Yeah, yeah, come in.”
Peter stepped aside to let ‘Sif’ in, and as soon as he closed the door he squinted over in her direction. “So what’s this ‘matter of great import’? And sorry - seriously - if I’m wrong about this, but…are you actually Sif? Cause you seem very un-Sif-ish today.”
'Sif' smirked around the straw and as soon as the door closed, the illusion wore off and Loki was there, impeccably dressed in a black suit.
"Alas, I can not remain so serious all of the time," he said with a sigh. "You are insightful. I wished to see if you were well, and to thank you in person for helping to free me."
He looked around at their surroundings, at all of the mementos that were on shelves and pictures on the walls.
"Ah, this is rather homey," he said, sipping some iced mocha as he looked at a photo of a child wearing a Iron Man mask. He hummed thoughtfully before gleefully asking Peter, "Is this you, or did Stark manage to shrink himself?"
“I knew it,” Peter said, grinning. “That whole illusion thing never gets less cool, by the way.” Wanda would’ve been pleased her lessons were paying off, and though he wished she could be here too, Loki’s return was a relief.
“Oh, that’s me. I was like…eight? And on the other side of me is my uncle.” Peter pointed him out. The man was in quite a few of the photos hanging up; his parents in much older ones too. “And you don’t have to thank me. What happened…never should have happened.”
That could go for a lot of things in his life, actually, but this was something that had actually turned out okay. That alone felt like cause for celebration. “Do you want to sit down or anything? My aunt made an apple pie the other day. Try at your own risk.”
That glowing review of his illusions made Loki visibly puff up with pride. He continued studying the photos, thinking to himself that everything was transitory, even for mortals, who had lives that moved so swiftly and yet...this was no different from the family murals painted on many a wall in the homes of the Aesir. Family was important, as was the family lines. And the loss of that, the feeling of being connected and yet profoundly not due to being adopted, still stung him from time to time. Not as much as before, but it was still very present.
"...he seems rather kindly," Loki remarked about the uncle in question, looking over at Peter. "What happened was happenchance. It was beyond our control. I am grateful you did not endure...anything untoward."
He quickly took a drink off the mocha to refrain from speaking further of that experience, and raised his eyebrows at the mention of questionable pie.
"How does one befoul a pie?" he asked between sips, while finding a chair to sit in. "Now I want to try it."
“Yeah,” Peter agreed, his gaze passing briefly over one of the pictures of his uncle - which didn’t happen too often, these days. Ever since Ben died he found it hard to even meet his eyes in a photograph. “He was. He really was.”
Peter wanted to ask Loki a million things; if he was actually okay, what had happened in there, and if he knew at all who was responsible, but he held back on his curiosity for now. After what Loki had went through, Peter didn’t think it was the first thing he wanted to talk about.
“I think she cooked the crust a little too much, and the apples are kinda mushy, but…it’s not bad.” Peter led Loki into the kitchen and got out two plates, unveiling the pie - which looked edible if messy. “And she didn’t start a fire this time, so that’s progress.” May, as it turned out, could occasionally be just as much of a disaster magnet as Peter - thankfully on a much smaller scale.
There was a lot of bad memories associated with Genosha. The type that would make him nearly shudder if he so much had a passing thought about it. Right now though, he felt safe where he was, and wouldn't let his guard down like that again. He didn't want to be caught or dragged back there, or to another series of prison cells. They were escaping Midgard soon, and moving a safe distance away. Within reach to offer aid, but far enough to maintain safety for every Asgardian.
As he followed Peter into the kitchen and looked at the pie, he couldn't help but the hint of a smile from ghosting across his lips. He liked this mortal household and Peter's aunt, who seemed more than a little bit eccentric and eclectic.
He studied the pie and it seemed to pass muster, not looking at all toxic or too bad.
"If the pie hasn't been subjected to open flame, that bodes well. I would be pleased to try it." He paused but a moment before asking, "My friend, I am deeply in your debt for trusting me to accompany you when none other would. Few would try to save me in such circumstances. I realize that you must have blamed yourself most grievously. Thus, if you or your aunt are ever in need, please do not hesitate to ask."