InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Wangoballwime?"

ɑgɛɳt ɱѳɓiuร (jetskiing) wrote in avengers_logs,
@ 2021-08-11 14:24:00

Entry tags:

-complete, -spoiler, loki laufeyson, mobius

WHO: Mobius & Loki
WHAT: Discussing Loki's love triangle and the mysteries of the universe
WHERE: An awesome Chinese food place
WHEN: IDK recently?
WARNINGS: Loki spoilers (for end of season one)
STATUS: Complete

Loki stood outside of their meeting spot, waiting for Mobius to arrive. Since he wasn't popular in this city and Strange was reluctant to let him off of the watch list, he cast an illusion that only other people could see. Everyone other than himself and Mobius would see a dashing young man with dark hair and mischievous green eyes, a face that was different from his own.

He wasn't dressed up in a fancy suit, but black pants and shoes, and a white button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up toward his elbows. He looked like someone who had gotten off work, which couldn't be further from the truth. He was a prince, and princes didn't work. Apparently they didn't walk either, since there was a runemark burned into the alleyway behind the building.

He checked his wrist watch - borrowed again, by the way - and looked around. Mobius was a punctual sort, so he couldn't imagine his friend was going to be late. Probably there right on time. And Loki would be glad for it, because he was already happy and anxious to see him again.

Right on time, this one. Mobius prided himself on his punctuality and, yes, his research skills when it came to finding an appropriate place. Because he hadn’t actually ever been given a chance to sit down and eat Chinese food in New York City - he’d missed out on so much, apparently, and trying to figure out where to start by catching up felt overwhelming in the way a tornado happened to be.

But he supposed, like much of everything in his life lately, it all came back to Loki. Who was married. And somehow, sort of, in charge of Asgard yet he somehow remembered everything that a variant version of him had done and - it was a lot. Marital strife was also a lot, so the least Mobius could do was listen and maybe try to provide a little bit of perspective - a fresh one. He’d see how it went.

The green, yellow, and red awning over the restaurant seemed iconic - it triggered memories that probably weren’t even his anyway, but they just felt like they should be. Inside, the restaurant portion was accessible by red-tiled stairs, leading down to the basement, and it promised to deliver some amazing food. Something more intimate or something for a group, a simmering pot of broth - he was pretty hungry though, and was looking forward to trying it out. “You’re here before I am,” he announced his presence to Loki. “Impressive.”

Then he just didn’t even bother with pretending like he didn’t want to do this - he hugged Loki, arms hooked around him in an affectionate squeeze. “You’re my favorite,” Mobius drawled, huffing out a laugh.

As soon as he saw Mobius approaching, Loki's eyes lit up. He almost said something about usually being fashionably late when he was stopped short by the very welcome hug. He laughed instead as he returned it, patting his friend on the back.

"I am rather endearing," he said. "You'll probably blame that on being...what was it? Oh, yes. A seismic narcissist."

He leaned back without letting go, squinting a little as he smiled. It was like he was onto Mobius. Which he was, since he expected a talking to. He probably needed a talking to. Not that it would change the crash course that their lives seemed to be on. He could veer, but things always came back to haunt him or divert him entirely, somehow. Apparently that had been the same for his older incarnation as well.

"You're my favorite too," he confessed, before gesturing with one hand to the restaurant's entrance. "I much prefer you to the Mobius who didn't remember me. Let's try this Chinese food, since so many seem to sing its praises. I've done the research into it and it looks rather appetizing."

As long as he wasn't served anything spicy, all would go well. If he was, though, it would be a very amusing meal indeed.

Some of these dishes were spicy enough to melt someone’s face off (or even melt through something substantial like iron) - and since Mobius was a bit of a risk-taker (case in point: everything leading up to this point), that was a road he would probably travel down. He couldn’t wait. “Hard to believe there’s a Mobius who didn’t remember you,” he smirked - it seemed as impossible as trying to blueprint a heavy storm.

Into the restaurant they went, and were shown to a table - the decor was about as dramatic as this conversation they were probably about to have, with red walls and matching tablecloths though on those walls there were hand painted murals of Chinese actresses from the 1940s era, which added some glam. “So - “ he started, taking a menu to study. Would he need a drink for this? Maybe something with a little cocktail umbrella?

Mobius’ morning-sky eyes were warm and curious, when he flicked his gaze back toward Loki. “Tell me more about...your wedding?”

Loki was looking at the menu, unsure of what anything was. Some items were marked 'spicy,' which was disconcerting. Asgard's spices were used sparingly. Mostly herby plants, salts, and the spiciest thing was some ground peppercorn… which he always skipped whenever it was offered. Overall, the food tasted like what it was. This was the likely reason Asgardians liked Pop-Tarts and chocolate.

He was trying to ignore that question. But the longer the ignoring stretched on, the more he grew more uncomfortable and began to scowl.

Loki abruptly dropped the menu onto the table, sitting back, clasping his hands together on the tabletop as he stared back at his folksy friend.

"I know this might seem unfathomable," he said. "I don't know what the actual wedding was like. The marriage first happened with my older self. Then I became this me, the younger me who took the Tesseract. Then she forgot me for months after that. When this Valkyrie variant arrived again, I think she took pity on me. Neither of us wanted to be alone, and we bonded over a mutual dislike of Odin. I was eventually able to charm her enough that we quietly renewed the vows. And Asgard was none the wiser that anything transpired."

He wasn't sure what Mobius would say, and it made him nervous. This is why he did what Loki did best: he kept talking.

"Consistency is important after all. And we were…." He stopped short, shaking his head. "I meant, we are still...fond of one another. Now then. I need to order something a little sweet, a little sour, and not at all spicy."

If all else failed for Mr. Picky Eater, there was probably something on the kid's menu. If things really failed though, this diverting of topics wouldn't work. Which is why Loki picked up the menu again to study it, trying to avoid Mobius' kind but keen stare.

“Go for the sweet and sour chicken,” was Mobius’ advice - that seemed like it would satisfy a Loki palette. As for Mobius, he was going for the spicy Dan Dan noodles drenched in peppercorn - basically he wanted to numb his mouth until he couldn’t feel feelings anymore; at least it wasn’t alcohol.

Admittedly, he was also still smarting from the realization that, prior to arriving here, he’d been alone and friendless and his brain was full of black holes - he couldn’t remember a thing about who he was before the TVA, had believed for so long that the Timekeepers just created him and the other employees like some Jesus situation, and did a bunch of horrible shit because a Kafka-esque organization forced him to.

When he laid awake at night, staring at the ceiling, he contemplated asking Loki if he’d try that enchantment trick on him so he’d just so he’d have something to grasp onto - asking Sylvie was probably a bad idea, and not just because she seemed to be hunkered down and in hiding or something. But anyway. At the moment, his concern was his friend.

“Loki - “ He set the menu down, crinkling the paper wrapper that covered the straw for his water. “It may seem hard to believe, but - it’s possible that everything for her went beyond just you charming her and her taking pity on you. She has real feelings for you.” Their marriage was based in more than a mutual dislike for Odin - if it wasn’t, then everything would have crumbled like a sandcastle, on a sun-baked beach, three weeks into holy matrimony.

He didn’t know the whole situation. Mobius wasn’t a fly on the wall - but he still knew Loki, and he knew why these feelings for Sylvie had surfaced suddenly. “Sometimes our lives take different paths and - people grow apart because of that. Having feelings for Sylvie isn’t wrong, I just think you need to see if this is something where you and Valkyrie can find your way back to each other. If you can’t, then - you’ll both know.”

But they had to at least try. To see where they really stood - and to help unravel a very emotional tangle.

"Damn," Loki muttered as he set aside the menu. Luckily, there was a pause as they put in their orders with the waitress. He knew what he was like when he drank, so he ordered hot tea instead. Something comforting and sweet. Because once again, as per the norm with Mobius, they were diving into complex and intense personal matters. Some things only the Valkyrie knew about, and even then, only after reluctance and strife. And her? Not at all, if she could help it. Asgard came first. Everything else with Brunnhilde was buried deep.

He began looking around. Quickly, he grabbed sugar packets and a salt shaker. Then he took Mobius' glass of water and that straw, sliding it over and arranging it next to his own glass

"It's like this." He shook salt into Mobius' water glass, and kept shaking as he talked. "Here's this perfectly rational relationship, based on deep seeded hatred for the Allfather. Certainly, there's mutual respect. But there's some bitterness too. An undercurrent of jealousy from me that's always tainted matters. I can never have what she has, such as Asgard's respect, or to be their King. I'm her royal advisor and consort. Which rankles me to no end."

He sat the salt shaker aside and began stirring the salt around with the straw. It didn't matter if the paper was all the way on or off. He's stirring, staring at Mobius rather than what he was doing.

"There's an undercurrent of something dark and bitter within us both. Me more than her. We do support one another, and always will. But there's a quiet acceptance of bitterness on her part and a not-so-quiet for my part. She's also spent eons on Sakaar, so she's exceedingly liberal-minded. I suppose that happens when you lose the love of your life and try to drink yourself to death on an orgy planet. Don't ever repeat this. She'll kill us both."

He tore open several packets of sugar and dumped them into the other glass. A spoon was plucked up and he began stirring. If Mobius meant to interject, Loki kept going. The same as he had with the apocalypse salad.

"Here's this sweeping, all-encompassing, heart-wrenching longing. A magnetic pull you're left yearning for every waking moment. Not only because you're in awe of a terrifyingly brilliant variant. Of which, I'd like it known I'm still the superior Loki. We should acknowledge this fact. But it's because the entire universe has slapped you in the face and bid you stop and take notice.

"Certainly, it's not perfect?" he continued. "Nothing ever truly is. There's hurt and regret. There's about a thousand years surrounded by people she knew were going to die, unable to aid them or risk being discovered. Now that it's over, she's trying to acclimate. We know He Who Remains is to blame. And this is far more than wanting this person to be ok or comfort them. It's like a golden gate opening to a whole new glorious purpose, one purer of motivation. Where it feels right to slow down, be quiet for once, and be more attentive to someone other than yourself. It is everything in you knowing that you have a surprisingly unselfish affection for this person."

He removed the spoon and carefully pushed both glasses over toward Mobius, not spilling a drop.

"Now, which would you rather drink? Salty realism or sweet submission," he asked. "I've drunk my fair share of salt. As have you, I suspect. And as a diversion, which you'll no doubt realize, I'm going to ask about your lost memories. You've likely been staring at walls or computer screens thinking about it. This conversation is not only going to be about myself."

Loki raised his eyebrows and waited expectantly, folding both arms on the table and leaning forward a little.

Really?

“Why can’t you tell these long-winded stories without wrecking my food or drinks?” Mobius asked rhetorically. He let loose with a long-suffering sigh and would just - ask the waitress for a new glass of water when she came back. “And to answer your question, I don’t want salty or sweet water. I want the water I asked for. The water I chose. Maybe it’s just tap water and not from the Swiss alps, but that’s okay because it’s hydrating.”

Yeah, hydrating. Before it had been ruined by Loki’s silver-tongued diversion and gods, it was a wonder Mobius didn’t slump in his chair and zone out for the duration of that. Although, amazingly, miraculously he still was somewhat privy to the gist there. Granted, on his end, it kind of sounded like his pal was trying to rationalize the sudden appearance of remembered heart eyes with my wife is salty, so it’s fine but he wasn’t going to go spelunking in that cave right now.

“I got bits and pieces - so whatever the situation is, if you’re suggesting that Valkyrie is going to be open to sharing you because she’s liberal after her time on an orgy planet or you’re just over here referring to your wife as salty, fine. But you both owe it to yourselves to fuckin’ figure it out.”

Preferably without the diatribe and the ruined H20. Anyway. “And what about my lost memories?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, lips pursing - and that mustache may have twitched a bit in response as well.

Loki talked. That's why so many people told him to shut up. When he was nervous or upset, he talked a lot more.

"No, oh NO." Loki looked mortified that this may have strayed down the wrong path. They hailed from chivalrous society, and weren't frisky like the triple-jointed Pleasure Elves from Alfheim. And the f word? Really Mobius. Not so folksy now! "We're both salty, and so called sharing is frowned upon. I meant it as more open minded compared to Odin's...heavily consolidated approach. She's still a king, and must conduct herself accordingly. Servants gossip. There are guards posted outside the doors of our separate bedchambers. I also won't risk a long-standing friendship in this universe, with someone who can rip my head off and drop-kick it to Niflheim."

He gestured to Mobius, not only because he thought he saw a mustache twitch, but because of the topic at hand.

"You asked before I had a chance to tell you myself. In Asgard, such offhanded mentions aren't casually done. It's uncouth. But I assure you...oh, thank you."

The waitress noticed the exchange and brought their drink orders along with fresh glasses of water. Loki got a hard stare. The sort of stare that made it known a big tip was expected.

"I assure you I'm not insensitive." He didn't pay notice to that stare and continued only after the waitress left. "And the Valkyrie isn't blind. She's well aware of everything around her. We do talk."

He tilted his head and squinted slightly at Mobius, before reaching for more packets of sugar for his tea.

"Now then, this is interesting. No knowledge has returned to you? I hoped that knowing might reveal something. Surely your appreciation of jet skis must hold a clue."

“Of course you’re not insensitive,” Mobius replied, as if he totally believed that. Uh-huh. Right. He did. “I’m glad that you’re both talking and communicating, then. Though was she the King before you married her or after?” he wanted to know - just wondering because if that bitterness was always there, he wondered why it hadn’t been significant enough to be an issue when deciding to get married. Or maybe it just grew over time - didn’t seem healthy either way.

Perhaps he just had a very specific approach to marriage - as in, he wasn’t going to do it unless he was sure he wanted to put the work in and stick with it. There were always doubts in life, true, but if there were too many then that seemed to be a whole slew of red flags and someone had to listen to those.

He sipped on his new water, enjoying the freshness and how the liquid wasn’t tainted with salt. “Nothing’s come to me,” he confessed. “I think the blocks are just too strong to fade away, especially after how long I was there. One of you may have to do the enchantment thing, I don’t know. It’s - something I have to consider.” Mobius wasn’t sure when or if he’d be ready.

In response to the insensitivity mention, Loki looked innocent. Or as innocent as a Loki could look. At least he did until he scrunched up his nose and shook his head. That was also part of the stickiness of that topic.

"That's the thing," he said, "Since they were married before I arrived, as I am now? Technically, it was during." It had been awkward, and there were disagreements from the start. "Surrrprrriiiise. Someone else was ruling the kingdom I once wanted to claim. Although it was only a wretched fishing village in Norway at that time. I helped by making some improvements before our grand ascension into space. And the rest is history."

Rather than elaborate, and since their food had yet to arrive, Loki focused back on his friend's problems. Partially to get the heat off of himself, and in a larger part, because it was a curiosity.

"Odd," he said, looking deeply perplexed. "There's nothing in that dogma you were told of the TimeKeepers that would explain it either. There are no children in the TVA. Only adults. So instead of being pruned, might it be likely that the judges secretly signed off on some form of retraining? And it's simply....kept off the books or in restricted files."

He shrugged. That was his best guess on the how, even if they weren't sure about the why.

Mobius felt a dull ache throb in the vicinity of his temples - it happened whenever he considered the overload that a rush of memory would entail, and how his mind was so scrambled it gave eggs a run for their money. “Might be in the files - all those things Miss Minutes didn’t want to show us,” he said, unrolling his napkin so he’d be prepared with silverware when food arrived. “Once I get the TemPad charged up I’ll see what she says - kind of have a feeling it’s just going to be some snarky remark though.” Delivered in a southern accent that was all peaches n’cream; listening to her was like being doused in a gallon of sweet tea. And drowning in it.

Because that’s probably what that sentient AI wanted.

“I’ll figure it out,” he promised and, lo and behold, their food was delivered then. Hopefully Loki enjoyed the wonders of Americanized Chinese food. “Just like you’ll figure out your complicated soap opera love thing.”

He was confident in that, if nothing else.

"They truly write operas about anything, if there's one about soap," Loki said as he gave Mobius a strange look. He shook his head and looked down at breaded chunks and yellow squares of what looked like fruit, along with some green cubes. A vegetable of some sort. All of it was covered in a pinkish-orange-hued gelatinous sauce, arranged around a dome of sticky rice. He looked uncertainly down at the plate as he murmured, "And I will figure it out. We will, rather. It's a minor concern in the grander scheme of things."

He took a bite while mulling things over. It was sticky and sweet, the coating still slightly crispy and the meat tender. It was actually quite good, and he quickly went back for more. While doing that, he considered the TVA to be an interesting ball of knots to untangle. Liking to think of himself as a superior mind, he didn't mind pulling at a few threads to see where they led.

The companionable silence was broken when he was halfway done, as he looked up and noted, "Your memories can't be pruned or erased. They're only locked away. Sylvie has said she could find them. If yours are unlocked, you may remember whatever mechanism was used. And thus you will be able to free your coworkers. Although that might be traumatic as well...remembering the moment they were taken from you."

He looked at Mobius with wide eyes, eyebrows slightly raised, and took another careful bite of pineapple and rice this time.

The spice on Mobius’s dish was kind of insane - but also like a natural form of dopamine, in an odd way, and he eagerly consumed it all. As eagerly as he could without burning his tongue, anyway - that wasn’t the goal for today’s lunch. No, the goal was to listen to Loki’s romantic woes (caught between a wife and a soulmate or whatever hinky phrase was involved there - and here Mobius was, basically a mindwiped virgin) and also maybe consider options for remembering what had been taken from him.

“If Sylvie can find them I’d be open to it,” he replied. “I - would want to free the others too. There are too many like me - others who are just a number. It’s not right. They could have been happy, they could have had families. And maybe some weren’t - but it’s not up to some asshole to take that away from anyone.”

He cleared his throat, pausing to sip water and soothe his flaming mouth. “She did the right thing,” he added, about Sylvie and her decision to murder He Who Remains. “No one can be expected to go along with the idea that a ‘lesser evil’ dictator is worse than the threat of the unknown.” Especially not someone who had her life ruined by the fascist organization that had hunted her for so long.

What did it mean for the now? For this timeline? Well. Mobius didn’t know. But he apparently wasn’t going anywhere, so he had a chance to figure it out.

From his perspective, Loki wasn't sure anyone being married in any alternate universe was a good idea. There was too much chance of an encounter or bleedover that changed the course of everything. He was questioning it all, even now.

Easier to focus on other matters.

"...Sylvie will always choose free will," Loki said softly, "I'm fetching her phone and laptop from Stark, so she'ill be on the network soon. I'll ask her about your memories. That skill is still...very new to me."

He didn't trust himself with it quite yet, and Mobius was important to him. His friend also didn't know about what happened after they parted ways in The Void. Troubled, he looked down while idly twirling a piece of chicken around with his fork.

"Mobius," he carefully chose what to say, "surely your TVA noticed the sacred timeline was freed. There may be a cost. The multiversal war in your propaganda was real. He Who Remains ended that war by weaponizing Alioth. He guided the TVA from his citadel at the end of time. We were warned if he died, the multiverse would be set free. Then he offered us to take over in his stead. To avoid evil variants of himself coming forth, warlords set on conquering timelines. There were no names given. We don't know who he really is. Our choice was either stifling order or cataclysmic chaos. I chose one, and Sylvie chose another."

“And I don’t blame her for choosing that,” Mobius said. “Or at least, I can see why she did - whatever he threatened wasn’t even a blip on her radar. It wasn’t worse than what she’d already faced. Why would she want to run an organization that made her life a living hell?”

Besides, he’d rather go out fighting in some multiversal war than as a result of some dictator deciding that his life wasn’t important - and he suspected he wasn’t the only one who felt that way either.

And, Jesus, if her and Loki were already at odds about this - he didn’t know how they were going to make a relationship work because you needed more than just sweet, sweet water feelings to be able to do that. But he’d decided it wasn’t really his business to butt in too much, so Mobius wouldn’t - he knew where to draw the line. “There’d be a lot to think about if ‘stifling order’ was chosen,” he went on. Nevermind that wasn’t really a choice anyway, between those two options presented by a dictator. “Would the TVA continue as it was? Would you and Sylvie force everyone else to comply?”

He and Hunter B-15 had already turned their backs on the organization, once they learned about those horrible truths - and prior to that, they’d been such stalwart cheerleaders for the whole damn thing. All the while it had crushed them, and so many others, under its feet.

“All I’m saying is that sometimes cataclysmic chaos is necessary, a little, before something better can emerge from the rubble.”

"It was her glorious purpose," Loki said, his brows knitting together. "I was worried about how many would die. More than even those pruned. Entire civilizations, entire universes. Layers upon layers. When faced with time-traveling warlords, all could end in death and despair."

As for them, he and Sylvie had already talked about it. In the aftermath, the slaying didn't offer the relief she thought she'd find. He realized why she blasted him back through a timedoor, unknowingly into a different TVA. He didn't hold a grudge. Instead, even in the dream, he wanted to tell Mobius and try to find her again. He wanted to be with her, and he also knew firsthand what it was like when anger seized hold and didn't let go.

"I hoped," he explained, "with your help, we could make changes for the better. None of us have a timeline to return to, so why not carry on? It wasn't a mad grasp for power. More a yearning for something fair and safe. For everyone. Together. We all know how cruel the TVA was. Perhaps something else could be done? Other than pruning people into a void, to be eaten by a ravenous cloud."

Loki finally looked up again, his expression solemn.

"I'm sorry, my friend. It seemed a lesser evil. I've seen many battles before. Thor has killed many foes, all to keep the peace. And that's the crux of the matter. In war, there's always some form of subjugation awaiting the losers that survive."

“Always,” Mobius agreed. “And it - was a tough spot to be in either way. For both you and her. You don’t need to apologize.”

He reached across the table and nudged Loki’s hand - he wasn’t really all that cold, which one might think given his true origins. But, no, he was warm - and really the only person Mobius was used to touching. He’d never really thought about it, not for the eons he was trapped with the TVA - he’d been compliant, believing he was doing good by imposing order and harmony and protecting the sacred timeline. Never did he yearn for a deeper connection with anyone. Never did he wish for the comfort of touch.

And then Loki catapulted into headquarters and all that went out the window. “I think we can still do something good here. Together, all of us.” No ravenous clouds required.

Taking a chance, his fingers unfurled from a tense fist to reach over and carefully hold onto Mobius' wrist. Fellow warriors often did this when greeting one another, instead of the Midgardian tradition of shaking hands. It was a show of deep respect and admiration.

If the table wasn't between them, he probably would have given Mobius another hug instead.

"I'm grateful for your candor and friendship," he said with an equally warm smile. If he hadn't run into Mobius to begin with, his life wouldn't have been spared, and he wouldn't have learned so much in so little time. He would have lived in denial for a long time before ever admitting what he tried to keep hidden. And he knew that dealing with him was always an exercise in patience. "I still believe we made a mistake going there. So I will do whatever I must to fix this if the need be. No matter the cost."

If he wanted to be better than what he once was, he knew he might need to selflessly sacrifice himself for some greater cause. Thor did it often enough. Something where actions didn't offer grand rewards or being revered as a God-King. It was still nice to daydream about, though.

"If there is a meeting with Stark and Strange, might I make a suggestion?" he asked, fingers still resting over Mobius' wrist, the touch kept light.

Mobius didn’t pull back from the touch. His hand flipped over gently though, so he had the tips of his fingers resting against Loki’s wrist in turn - and while he was no warrior, it was a certain kind of bond regardless. A ‘finding your person’ bond - because when you spent your life one way, resigned to the idea that it was too late to change and then met someone who presented a whole vista of other possibilities, it was freeing.

And kind of great, knowing that no matter how old you got or where you were at in your life loneliness wasn’t some kind of irrevocable state of being.

“Suggest away,” he replied, using his free hand to twirl more noodles around his fork. “Or ‘go off,’ if that’s the more modern phrase.”

That Mobius returned the gesture made him smile. Few could actually talk with him, and even less would touch him. Peter Parker chatted with a nervous energy, but it was always as if Loki might stab someone on a whim. Brunnhilde supported him, but he knew his moods wore on her when she already handled so much on her own. And Sylvie was Sylvie. She didn't hesitate to speak her mind even if she felt vulnerable, too.

He was truly happy to have his friend here in all of his folksy glory. Even if Mobius was occasionally frustrated with how much he liked to talky-talky. Which he was about to do.

"Beg pardon?" Loki asked, his face scrunching up with slight confusion. "I don't see how going off anywhere is the same."

Lord Loquacious sat back a little more, lightly drumming his fingers against Mobius' arm before his hand moved away. A good thing, since his hands tended to get animated as he explained things.

"Nevertheless. I was thinking, it might be easier to have the meeting at the TVA. I know there's infinite timelines and TVAs. Not a fan of your other self, by the way. But, if you can hone in on this universe, if Stark and Strange see it...we might unravel the tangled knot that ensnared us. A knot that I've begun to think of, like this."

He drew his phone out of thin air and put it back with the flick of a wrist, holding up both hands to show there was nothing up his sleeves.

"See? I didn't put it in my pockets this time. Things break there. Instead, it's in an inter-dimensional pocket of sorts. It's where a sorcerer's most precious things are kept. What if..." He drew in a much-needed breath because he (and maybe everyone else) needs it. "...we're like the phone. Perhaps magic is to blame, or some otherwise magnetic force."

Granted, that one wasn’t as bad as the water analogy. Loki didn’t ruin Mobius’ noodles for one of his stories, and thus he’d be grateful. “So you’re saying - look at this universe through the lens of the TVA? I could get behind that,” Mobius hummed. “The idea of stepping foot back in there is concerning though.” Wouldn’t someone notice? Maybe not He Who Remains, but one of his variants?

The last thing he wanted was to bring other people to certain doom - but then again, they probably wouldn’t get answers unless they took a few risks. If they were quick about it - well, why not. The TVA did have the ability to provide a perspective that they all wouldn’t otherwise get. “Will have to make sure that TemPad is really charged,” he grinned, which was his way of agreeing to this probably-insane plan.

Loki came up with it - so no ‘probably’ about it. It was definitely insane.

He speared more noodles, nodding toward Loki’s lunch that was two steps away from the kids menu. “Now finish that and don’t let it get cold.” Such a dad, wasn’t he? Oh, well. Some things just couldn’t be helped.