Loki (fiorvalr) wrote in noexits, @ 2021-08-07 21:09:00 |
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Loki said he wasn’t going to leave Derleth, but Loki lied. Death, and the fear of it, suddenly had a different meaning for the God of Mischief. It was both something to avoid and something to disregard. Was he concerned about dying again? Yes, of course. It wasn’t a nice feeling. It didn’t matter how much he mocked the unimportance of it in a world like Derleth, death was still death. It hurt just as much the second time as it did the first. And coming back didn’t get any easier. But, also, there was the concern that one day it wouldn’t be temporary. That a Derleth death could be eternal. Forever. That he might take a dagger to the chest and not wake up in his tiny dormitory bed, but be gone. No longer exist. Not even a hint of his being in the universe. Nothing. It was enough to convince a person, even someone like Loki, to never leave their room again. But Loki was a conundrum. He sought out punishment and dread the way others sought out happiness and love. Not because he wanted them, but because he deserved them. And he did deserve them. Because Loki wasn’t a good guy. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t even really that nice. He was Loki. And he’d done so much wrong in his life. More than a single blade to the chest could make up for. But also he was bored. He watched almost ten of Natasha’s James Bond films in a period of a day and a half. He just lay on the floor of her room and stared at the screen, half reading the subtitles, mesmerized by the story and the fashion and the cars. Goodness, Natasha was right. Loki really liked the cars. But it could only hold his attention for so long. Eventually he needed to get out. He needed fresh air. He needed to see if Derleth would be merciful to him. So, he ventured out into the world beyond Derleth. Loki was quiet. Very quiet. When he walked it was cautious and slow. When he saw the creatures he threw up an illusion of invisibility. He kept his breathing low and steady. And, for the most part, he didn’t attract any attention. Not even from the people he sensed were hiding behind buildings and trees. They didn’t care about him. They were too busy looking out for themselves. Eventually Loki found himself in a pawn shop. DARYL’S PAWN SHOP, to be precise. Although Daryl was clearly no longer among the living. The remains of his flannel shirt and outdated mullet hairdo were in the backroom, half covered in debris. That didn’t bother Loki. Very little did. Loki wasn’t looking for anything in particular, although he did promise to get Fen something sharp and pointy, but regardless the pawn shop seemed like a good place to stock up on extraneous supplies. Maybe even find a few gifts for all two of his friends. After ten minutes of perusing the merchandise, however, surprisingly untouched despite the dilapidated and looted state of the world, he hadn’t found anything that really caught his eye. Then again that was a nice bracelet. He picked it up. Carefully. Quietly. And admired its construction. On second thought, nah. Too gaudy. He set it back down and moved on towards the back wall which had a rack of various sports and music equipment. Did an oboe count as sharp and pointy? He shook his head. He could do better. Opening the door to the pawn shop had been an intense experience. She could see the bells on the door and if she opened it slowly enough, wouldn’t set them off. Going back out the way she came? Technically she could, but once she had what she needed for Ronan’s spell, she would portal back to campus. She’d seen how easily Wolf died. How little it took. Loki was quiet enough that Julia didn’t see him at first. She probably should have been more aware, but she was more focused on not making a sound. Julia was barefoot, she had a gold toe ring on her middle toe. Her feet were not as tattooed as her hands. She found an ugly, thick quilted handbag. It looked like some kind of Vera Bradley knock off, and Julia had never been especially fond of the real thing. But it was thick and padded, so she took it to collect the things she needed. Pawn shops always had a strange assortment of knick knacks, only better quality than a thrift store. It was when Julia found a large quartz crystal that she spotted Loki. She dropped the crystal into the bag, which landed in the bottom noiselessly, feet carefully taking her around the corridor so she could get a better look at him unobstructed. Her eyes lit up and she was smiling. It wasn’t supposed to be menacing, but perhaps that was worse. She seemed genuinely happy in his presence. Her face, her body language, would all have to be greeting enough. What would she have said to him anyway? No, this was better. For her, anyway. She didn’t need words to express the relief and the hope she felt again. He hadn’t said anything on the network. No one had come after her. Maybe he didn’t remember? That would have been better, sure. But a part of her had prepared for him knowing and being in on her secret: she had at least one weapon that could kill a god. Now she had no one to celebrate with. Loki froze when he saw her. His reaction to Julia was mixed. Even Loki wasn’t entirely sure what his feelings were. He knew he’d run into her eventually, Derleth wasn’t that big, but he thought he’d have more time. Should have stayed in the dormitories. So when he looked up and caught her smiling at him, he wasn’t prepared for how he wanted to respond. Maybe it was better that way. He’d put up an illusion towards everyone else from the moment he woke up after his untimely death. Maybe it was better that he didn’t in front of Julia. Or, at least, minimized some of it. Then again, he didn’t want her to know exactly how much she’d hurt him. And she did hurt him. Not just physically. Loki wasn’t afraid of Julia, although maybe he should have been. She’d managed to kill him because he let his guard down. He allowed his emotions to get the better of him. He opened himself up to trust. That had been a mistake. But he didn’t fear her because he wouldn’t put himself in that position ever again. Not with her. Not with anyone. Was he angry? Yes. He was livid. But his anger was prefaced by a morbid understanding of her actions. She wasn’t in possession of her shade. She didn’t feel the way most people did or the way she used to. Loki knew that. He was fully cognizant of that when he entered this peculiar relationship with her. In that way, he was also partly responsible for his own death. Because he had her shade. He could have given it to her. He could have prevented this. Possibly. Assuming Julia wasn’t simply a coldhearted witch who used her lack of shade as an excuse to be excessively dispassionate. Still, knowing this didn’t lessen his anger and frustration, but it did temper it. For the time being. Mostly Loki was just hurt emotionally. He didn’t meet very many people with whom he felt a natural connection. And he had experienced something like that with Julia. But now he wondered how much of that was true and how much of it was merely projection on his part. Was he so desperate to be understood by someone that he imagined a connection when there was none? And what about these feelings he’d invested? Were they real? Or was that just an illusion he played on himself? He didn’t know. But that smile. It really rankled his ire. Loki glanced down at the open display case in front of him and picked up a ring, carefully slipping it into the pocket of his jacket. Then he moved towards the wall of sports paraphernalia, gaze idly passing over a pool cue before he stared back at her. This time his expression was darker, less surprised. Her body language might have been more difficult to interpret, but Loki’s was not. He was debating the risk vs. reward of making a lot of noise. Julia canted her head, hand over mouth. Her eyes went wide not in shock or terror. It was surprise, but more like what she saw him doing as a joke. Julia’s sense of humor: she killed him, so he was going to try and kill her back? That sounded like so much fun. A potential game between them. Was it possible Loki understood her? Appreciated her? Just as she was? Because he was a god or more likely because he was a trickster? It took her a moment to regain her composure, ensure she wouldn’t laugh. Her lower lip pouted at him just slightly, particularly at his sour expression as her hand fell away from her face. He wasn’t really upset with her, was he? Hadn’t they had a good time? She’d had a good time. Was he just a poor sport? Alright. Seemed only fair to counter his silent offer. Julia traced a doorway behind her, and on the other side was the campus. If he made noise, she could be gone in just a few steps before any of the monsters arrived. She motioned to the doorway like Vana White, eagerly watching for his next move. Loki watched Julia with a cautious gaze. He was trying to decide whether she was knowingly mocking him or if she was so void of understanding due to the hole in her preventing her from seeing the obvious. He was torn because he felt that both were equally as plausible. And it wasn’t as though he couldn’t take a joke or play the game, a game he hadn’t entirely realized they were playing until she jabbed that blade in his chest, because he could. It was just that this joke — the one where she used his emotions against him in an attempt to fulfill some impractical vengeance in retribution towards a god who didn’t even exist in this realm — wasn’t particularly funny. At least, not to Loki. He wasn’t laughing. In that sense perhaps he was a poor sport. But he did understand her. And that’s what made this all the more difficult for him. Because he got it. He really did. He’d been there before. He’d put vengeance above all others once upon a time. And not just vengeance. But ego and narcissism and jealousy and spite. And he’d done far worse in his time than kill one person. He’d unleashed terror on Midgard. And he’d never really apologized for that. But it felt different when the tables were turned. Having that same logic directed on him was, well, it infuriated him. Hence his dilemma. His desire to murder Julia in the most painful and excruciating way possible. (The typical Loki instinct, if you will.) And his rarely spoken forgiveness wanting to offer her a free pass. (A byproduct of the new and semi-improved Loki.) Not that he thought she’d see it as such. She clearly didn’t feel anything about what she’d done to him. Anything but joy, that is. Loki watched as she playfully opened a portal and closed it. There was a pause, the mechanisms of his mind churning away at how to proceed. And then he grinned. Because it finally occurred to him that he could play this game on better footing than she realized. He had her shade, after all. In the end he could do worse to her than she’d ever be able to do to him. Loki grinned. Then he stepped around the display case and through the narrow aisle, careful not to accidentally bump or touch anything. He didn’t stop until he was directly in front of her, mere inches apart. Outside something made a noise and the sound of one of the creatures dragging its claws along the doorway echoed through the small storefront. He raised a shushing finger to his lips. Loki’s grin should have been a warning sign. Logically, she knew that the trickster god had something up his sleeve, but emotionally it didn’t quite reach her. Or maybe that was backwards. Logically she knew they’d wake up next week no matter what and that gave them the freedom to do anything. Emotionally, the challenge Loki presented was more of a thrill than anything. He approached her and she drank it up, more than happy to focus on those lips. Her brows raised for a second, as if to ask what next? Her lips pressed together as if to accept whatever challenge he decided to throw down. Julia didn’t move. Not to close the distance between them or to move away, nor to touch him. After last week such a gesture might be a little much even for her. She would let him instigate, although given their first encounter perhaps not even that was safe. Her eyes briefly moved outside the shop then back to Loki’s. Her head canted to the side, waiting for his next move. Loki probably should have had a plan before he approached her instead of relying on his instinct. Loki’s instinct, while astute and sensible in battle, had often failed him when it came to his more personal relationships with people. It’s what led to his long-time falling out with his brother and his antagonistic relationship with his father. It was also one of the reasons why Sif and the Warriors didn’t trust him. Because oftentimes his instinct was fueled by his emotions and Loki’s emotions were always misplaced and unreliable. Particularly close relationships. And while what he and Julia had wasn’t exactly what one might consider a typical ‘relationship’ — they weren’t really friends or enemies or even truly lovers, in a sense — it was personal. And that added an untrustworthy dynamic to his own feelings that Loki should have been more aware of. But he’d made that dominant move of approaching her and now he had to follow through with it somehow. Because this was a game. And, by Loki’s count, he was oh-for-two. She’d tricked him in Fillory and she’d tricked him again in the Green. He had to let that run through his thoughts again. She’d. Tricked. Him. On top of being unacceptable, it was embarrassing. Loki was embarrassed. He, of all people, should have seen her deception coming. Especially since it wasn’t even really a deception. She’d been honest with him from the start. Julia wanted to kill a god back home. Julia didn’t have her shade. Julia would do whatever it took to complete her mission. That had been her wish, after all. When he’d asked her on the beach what she wanted most in the world, she’d been very clear. She wanted to kill the god that hurt her and her friends. What did Loki expect? Practice made perfect, after all. She didn’t move. She just watched him. Loki flicked his tongue out over his lower lip in thought. She was a difficult chess piece to maneuver. And as angry with her as he was, he was also amused. Because Loki liked the game. And he loved a challenge. He lifted his right hand from his side, one of his daggers materializing seemingly out of nowhere. He angled the blade sideways, pressing the flat portion to her throat and pushing. Not hard, but enough for her to feel the cold steel against her skin. The edges were sharp and gleaming. He could have seen his own reflection in it if he hadn’t focused his gaze on her eyes. But as long as she didn’t swallow too hard or move too quickly, it wouldn’t cut. Loki held it there for a long twenty seconds before he pulled it back and pointed the tip at her heart. Then he mouthed three words as clearly as he could. ‘You. Owe. Me.’ |