It had been a surprisingly difficult night for Loki. Unlike Victors, Gamemakers were always required to attend arena openings. It was a good play to schmooze with the rich donors who made such luxurious accommodations possible, and that was important, since the hotels generally had lucrative contracts with the Games commission, ensuring a satisfying revenue stream for all.
Loki had learned, however, that these parties were landmines for a young Gamemaker -- it was too easy to say the wrong thing, and at this level, even the smallest misstep could irreparably damage a career. Add the tacky decorations, copious alcohol, and distasteful but clearly deliberate choice to invite all the Victors -- even Wanda -- and Loki knew it was going to a hellish night.
Not as hellish for him than for the less willing guests, he knew, so this year, he'd spent less time hobnobbing and more time keeping an eye on his brother. Loki's unfortunate incident at the drink table had revealed at least some danger there, and even though he could choose not to drink any more that night, he was certain that Thor would have less self control. After his encounter with Stark, he spent quarter hour carefully observing each drink's effect, noticing a loose, although not exact, correlation to the colors and outcomes that he'd designed himself. Then he'd made a little card for his brother, one that matched each food and drink item to its side effect (as far as he could tell) and slipped it to him while they posed for a picture.
The momentary wave of relaxation this provided didn't last long, however. His stomach sank as Wanda caught his eye and made her way toward him. This was the very last place he should be meeting with her, the very last person who should be here, and yet her presence seemed inevitable. Loki had worked here long enough to understand what gestures were meant as punishments, and he knew well that, by far, hers was the worst.
"I am, thank you." Loki's cheeks burned a little pink as she revealed that she'd seen him fall victim to a version of one of his own traps. He wasn't a stranger to the poetic justice there, but it didn't embarrass him any less. He, of all people, should have known better. This was the kind of irony that the press ate up, the kind of thing that could be in the news tomorrow. "The effects were mercifully temporary."
He eyed her carefully, noting the lack of tension in her voice, the way she was moving. She must've been dosed with something, and maybe not something on the table. That was good. "Would you like to go outside?" he asked. "I feel the air in here is a little stale."
Loki had a feeling that leaving the hotel grounds was quietly forbidden, but it wouldn't be so bad to walk outside for a while, would it? There was a path and a garden, and it would be a relief for both of them to be away from the calls of birds and the screams of monkeys. It would be worth the risk.