ɑgɛɳt ɱѳɓiuร (jetskiing) wrote in noexits, @ 2022-01-20 18:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread/narrative, marvel (tv/movies): loki laufeyson, ₴ inactive: mobius m. mobius 2, → week 029 (michael) |
michael - day 3
Loki knew he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. That was definitely a lesson he’d learned by now. And yet every night of the reset he took a deep breath and thought maybe this time will be better. Then he woke up and it wasn’t. Granted, Michael’s Derleth could have been worse. It could always be worse. But that was a depressing mantra to live by and Loki already had enough dark clouds hanging over him to burden himself with that particular perspective. He did say it though. That was the worst part about it. He said it often. Mostly to other people. And he inwardly cringed every time he did so. For two reasons. The first, because ‘it could be worse’ was not an optimistic or positive view of a bad situation. And second, he shouldn’t have cared about uplifting other people’s moods. That wasn’t his job. That wasn’t even in his arsenal of gifts. Loki wasn’t an inspiring force for good mental health. He was the God of Mischief. Why should he care about making someone else feel better? Why had that become his default Derleth disposition? Why? Mobius was right. So was Natasha. Loki didn’t know what he was doing. He was a roller coaster. He was presumptuous highs and debilitating lows. He was one loop after another, barely getting a moment of straight track to catch his breath. He didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t know what he needed. But he did know that he felt caged. Trapped. Like a bird flapping its wings against the glass, dreaming of real flight. And there was nothing worse than a Loki who didn’t have space to roam and grow and be themselves. It was a recipe for disaster. A fire constantly burning, occasionally dampened by the conscious efforts of one or two people. The few people who realized that Loki was always a danger to himself. And that it wouldn’t take much for him to be a danger to others. Monotony was a prison for the Prince of Asgard. And it was finally beginning to crack the perfect shell of his illusion. It was only his mother’s words that kept him from completely losing it. Her promise that he had more to do. More to experience. More to learn. More to love. And that once he did, he’d be reunited with her in the Great Hall. Take a deep breath. Put on a smile. Laugh at all the right moments. Pepper the conversation with petty insults and mercurial quips. Then no one will know. No one will know how broken you are. So, that’s what he did. He took a deep breath. He practiced that smug Loki smirk in the corridor. Then he balanced the two cans of green beans in one hand like a juggler preparing for an act. And he knocked on Mobius’s door. Those portraits were definitely something of a mindfuck (or mindfork, if you were saying it loud) - but for Mobius, it was a different sort of effect. Maybe it had been intentional, maybe it wasn’t - he just knew that when he gazed at that completely unfamiliar face, he felt...empty. Like he was just some hollowed out cave - nothing had lived there, nothing was living there. He was simply an abandoned can on the street, a grave without a ghost - everyone else had ghosts that haunted them constantly. Relentlessly. Reminders of their past, people they loved and missed and could think of when Derleth became too much to bear. Mobius, though? Had none of that. It stung in ways he didn’t want to stop and think about. There was a difference between pain due to life experiences, and pain due to the fact that you had nothing - he almost wanted it to hurt. He wanted to know what that was like, because life was supposed to be that way and for him it wasn’t. Never had been - or even if it had, it was gone now. Blown away by a reset charge, ash and dust and any remnants of his old life just feathers caught in a windstorm. Was he bitter? Perhaps a little, but he never would have taken it out on anyone else. He’d deal with his own issues, somehow. Eat some vegetables. Do more research - figure out how to make this whole situation more bearable for everyone. But first he’d start with those green beans. So he went to the door, opening it up to let Loki inside. “Come on in, I saved you plenty of shrimp,” he said - it was true. Considering that was all the cafeteria had (at least for him), he was able to bring a box of it back to this room which received a really weird makeover. The furniture looked all state of the art but it probably wasn’t - probably also wasn’t sturdily crafted and would start to resemble something that came straight from a landfill after more use. He’d see what happened, and how long they were in for this change. Loki gave Mobius a quick—slightly unintentional—once over with his eyes before stepping into the room. The layout was almost exactly a replica of the space he shared with Matt. Small, quaint, a little too cosy. Loki didn’t begrudge the new furniture, although he was still perturbed that someone stole his bathtub. He liked to lounge in the evenings. Sometimes he’d sink into the water, close his eyes, and pretend he was back on Asgard in that outlandish gold claw foot tub that had been all the rage in the palace. It was always a disappointment when he opened his eyes and was met with the slightly moldy tile of the Derleth bathrooms, but for a moment he was at peace. He peeked into Mobius’s shared bedroom. Clean. Modern. Monotonous. It reminded Loki that he still needed to get his slot machine back from Sam. Then he tilted his gaze up towards the portrait of the unfamiliar man. Loki raised a brow. “Right. That’s a little creepy.” But after Mobius’s admission to him on the net board about not remembering anything of his past and never having experienced certain physical entanglements, Loki was cautious not to say anything that could trigger any difficult emotions. Not yet anyway. Not on an empty stomach. Food first. Then feelings. He held up the green bean cans. “Cold straight out of a can or heated up with magic? Pick your poison.” “Maybe the magic?” Mobius chuckled. “You might want to heat up shrimp too - it got a little cold during the trip from the cafeteria.” It was a decent trek, anyway, and he couldn’t exactly teleport around the campus - not without a Timedoor, and he aimed to conserve the TemPad battery as much as possible. He’d need it, to keep trucking along with his goals - and he was getting closer. He could feel it - they all were getting closer to something and, maybe, just maybe? They’d get to a point where they wouldn’t have to dread each and every week, or feel that it’s coming weight, a sinking stone or band too tight around the ribs. The element of surprise had sort of started to be kind of annoying. Everything about the new campus was creepy too - a similar shine to at, as Schmigadoon Derleth, in that fake kind of way. Too comforting, too reassuring - and the stupid signs that were just about as useful as ‘live, laugh, love’ weren’t really helping the situation either. “I’m glad you came by,” he added, since he was feeling kind of down and seeing Loki tended to ease some of that. He’d just go on and make the space sort of presentable and suited for a dinner party. The desk was slim and pretty generic - likely meant to suit a whole variety of interiors, from glamorous to moody, but it would do to sit at. “I wonder why you got green beans by the way?” he glanced up. “Is it really your favorite food?” “I’m glad you invited me,” Loki said, following Mobius over to the desk. “Wasn’t sure if the invitation would still hold after…” Loki cut himself off and used one of his daggers to cut open the first can. Then he waved his hand over it, a green glow spreading around the beans until they began boiling in the can. After a moment they were cooked. No muss. No fuss. He also used a bit of magic on the shrimp. Quick and easy reheating magic. Loki smiled afterwards. It was a simple spell, but he still looked proud. Almost like a little boy performing his first trick. By the glimmer in his eyes one would have thought he’d just fashioned a seven course meal out of thin air. Mobius’s question pulled him out of his wayward thoughts. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t call them my favorite food. Then again, I’ve never really thought about what my favorite food is. Hard to have a favorite when you haven’t tried everything. I used to eat green beans to feel better. I’m not sure why. Just something about them used to cheer me up when I was sad. I would sneak into the palace kitchen at night and eat them in secret. Not that I imagine anyone would have cared.” Loki grabbed the chair from the roommate’s desk and dragged it over so he could sit beside Mobius. “I imagine they won’t be my favorite after this week though. Shrimp would have been a better choice.” The look of awe on Mobius’s face wasn’t faked at all - because he sort of loved seeing Loki use his magic, even if it was a simple spell. There was just this warm glow about him, about the whole space whenever it occurred - it also made Mobius wonder what it would feel like to have Loki use magic on him. He sort of did before - that automatic drying spell, in Roxxcart, but that wasn’t as intimate as he would hope for now. Maybe it was stupid to hope for anything - you also had to work for what you wanted, and to make things happen. He was trying, anyway. “I doubt anyone’s favorite food is going to be their favorite after this week,” he snorted, also sitting once he had a chair nearby - close enough to Loki so be able to knock knees together, which he was fond of doing. “I didn’t realize coconut shrimp was supposed to be my favorite but I guess it is.” Was it disturbing that the Derleth gods knew that? Heck yes - Mobius already had enough trouble with his identity and feeling like he’d missed out. He didn’t need that feeling to exacerbate. “You used to sneak green beans?” That made him smile softly, as he cut into one of them (silverware stolen from the cafeteria too). “See, that’s something I didn’t necessarily know about you.” Loki felt Mobius’s knee brush against his, but he didn’t move or shy away from it. He didn’t lean into the touch either, but he allowed Mobius to linger there. Loki was still processing a lot of their recent conversation. He was glad that he knew about Mobius’s lack of experience. Glad that Mobius had been open and honest with him. Because he would have felt incredibly guilty if he’d inadvertently made a mistake. If he’d misjudged Mobius’s desires or intentions, for example. Or his own for that matter. He wanted to be cautious. Careful. And if something did happen—if they did decide to further explore any feelings they might have for each other—then Loki wanted to be certain that he did it right. Properly. From the beginning. He didn’t want to do it poorly. He didn’t want to hurt Mobius. And while Loki couldn’t put a finger on why that was important to him, he felt like he’d hurt someone else in that way. He just couldn’t remember who. Or why. Maybe it was just his conscience trying to guide him. Maybe it was all the guilt and shame he had for all the wrong things he’d done in his life. He didn’t know. There was a shadow in his thoughts, hiding the truth from him. And while he saw it, he also didn’t see it. “What? Green beans weren’t in the Loki file? Good to know. Maybe we’ll find some other things you don’t know about me.” Loki picked up a fork and daintily stabbed one of the shrimp before taking a bite. Cautious, taste-testing chew before he swallowed. “Not bad. But if I had to spend the rest of my life eating it I would probably throw myself off the Bifrost.” Loki smiled. There was something about Mobius that calmed him. Eased his temperament. He still kept up an illusion. He still tried to impress the man, as he tried to impress everyone. But it was in a much more casual way. “I wanted to…” Loki hesitated. “I don’t know if ‘apologize’ is the right word. I don’t really feel bad for what I said, but I do recognize after the fact that it may have been construed in an unintentional way. I often forget that people, Midgardians in particular, don’t have the same perspective on life that I do. What I mean to say is, that conversation on the network—the one instigated by Michael’s intrusive lack of respect for my privacy and the privacy of others—I didn’t mean to…” Loki took a breath. His mind was moving faster than his mouth was able to form words. “For me, physical intimacy is not always a sign of emotion or intention. Most of the time if I engage in coquettish discourse, it’s not an indication of desire. It’s a plea for attention. As ridiculous as that sounds. I am not naive. I know that in the game of flirtatious banter most people here will turn me down. And those that might not, wouldn’t take me seriously. Feelings of attachment are new for me. As is friendship. It’s been a steep learning curve. One that I have been struggling with since I arrived here.” Loki coughed an uncomfortable laugh. “I just … Most of the time I’m not serious. If I am serious, I make certain the other person knows. And if you want to fork the vampire that will in no way hurt my feelings. I may not be the God of Hypocrisy, but I do know it when I see it.” There he said it. He stabbed a green bean and ate it quickly. Fork...the vampire? Mobius blinked. He was confused for a second but then it all made sense - kind of locked into place, really. “No, I mean - I don’t think he really wants to...with me,” and well, was it a flattering idea? Someone who was out there actually desiring him? Yeah, definitely - but he’d never been one for coquettish discourse, as Loki put it. Or sleeping around. Mobius didn’t sleep around - or at all. But anyway, that wasn’t the point. The point was that Loki was opening up a little and explaining his view of things, and actually exerting a bit of empathy - so Mobius would focus on that instead. “I’m new at a lot of this too,” he confessed. “I don’t think I really understand being so, uh - physical?” he scratched his cheek awkwardly - because there had been a lot of people on The List and while he knew Loki tended to express himself that way (files, remember?), it just seemed like Derleth was such a small community that plowing your way through the population didn’t appear to be the best of ideas. And seeing his name on there, lumped in there with people Loki claimed to not have any emotions or intentions for, it hit him in an odd sort of way. Not a way he particularly enjoyed, mind you. “But - I recognize not everyone’s like me. I definitely don’t expect you to be. I guess I also just want to know what you expect of me? If you want to explore what we have or will have - are you also expecting me to be okay with you being intimate with other people at the same time?” Because he couldn’t promise that he would be okay with that. Loki opened his mouth to respond and a strange sort of confusion flashed across his eyes. It was almost like a mental blip. Like a light flickering on and off for a moment. As though the answer he was going to give didn’t quite make sense in his mind. He wanted to explain that all of those interactions had happened a very long time ago. Well, long in Derleth standards, that is. He wanted to explain that he hadn’t been with anyone since— —and that’s where his mind confused itself. That’s when a shadow passed through his memory. He furrowed his brows and frowned, trying to sort through the haze in his thoughts. Then he shook his head. It was nothing. Not important. He was just tired and stressed. And overwhelmed. Michael airing his laundry out like that had left him understandably livid. “For the record, contrary to what Michael said, I do not consider you and I as having ever been physically intimate with each other. That memory is not mine. It belongs to another Loki. That was his relationship. His passion. His history with his Mobius. Not mine. Not ours.” Loki licked his lower lip in thought and in memory of that week. He couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy it though. He had. But he knew that wasn’t them. “You know Lokis well. Better than anyone. So, I hope you understand this. I’ve never been in love. I don’t even know if I’ve ever loved at all. My mother, yes. And my brother. Perhaps even my father, in a way. But I’ve never had a close friend with whom I could develop affection for. I’ve never been one for relationships. It’s difficult to give someone else emotions you cannot give yourself. And my interpretation of love is not something that requires a physical component. Although I do believe that could strengthen the bond of some relationships. But in the experiences I’ve had in life, both before Derleth and after, physical intimacy has been a fleeting thing. For fun. Not for building the basis of a relationship. Sometimes I simply crave that form of attention. Without the strings. Because I have never felt that I am capable of being someone’s partner in a more meaningful way.” Loki turned his gaze away from Mobius and stared down at his fork, watching as the light from the room played off the prongs. A shy smile crept across his face. “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m actually quite old. And while monogamy does exist on Asgard, it’s not really something that I’ve ever craved. My parents loved each other in their way. And they very successfully maintain a long and happy reign in their realm. They were with each other when they needed each other. But when you live for thousands of years, the bedroom sometimes needs new drapes.” Loki stabbed at a shrimp, but didn’t eat it. “If destiny or fate or whatever decides that we should go down that path then that’s something we’d have to discuss, I suppose. But I don’t expect anything of you, Mobius. My only wish is that you will be my friend. And that you’ll forgive some of my mistakes in our friendship. Because I will make mistakes. There are others here that I have built very close friendships with. I have different feelings for different people. Feelings that I am still trying to understand myself. And I cannot say with any certainty what they will lead to or if they will lead to anything. But if it eases your mind, I have not been intimate with anyone in well over seventeen Derleth weeks. Nor do I currently have any plans to be intimate with anyone in Derleth.” Because something happened. Something made that harder. Loki ate the shrimp and then pinched the bridge of his nose. He suddenly had a piercing headache. “My hope is that if I should be blessed with the opportunity to find love, in whatever form, that the person will accept me for me. As I am. With my flaws and my intimacy issues and my capriciousness.” Loki sighed. “And the knowledge that while they might not be the only one with whom I share my bed or my body, they will be inextricably important to my soul.” Inextricably important to my soul. Mobius believed what Loki was saying, he did. He knew this embodiment of chaos and mischief was being sincere (and Mobius also knew when he lacked sincerity) - that wasn’t an issue. The issue was what he personally wanted, what he was wired for - maybe Loki didn’t crave monogamy but it was possible that Mobius did. He’d honestly never considered it before - all he knew was that his entire existence was one giant question mark; figuring out the person he happened to be, what he wanted and needed, would no doubt turn into quite the undertaking. Was wanting someone who wished to share their bed and body with only him selfish, as he figured out who that person beyond the fake name Mobius even happened to be? But he also cared a lot about Loki - he couldn’t deny that. Mobius loved and accepted him as an individual, and wouldn’t try to change him nor would he stand in the way of Loki’s happiness. Was he supposed to make friends with any other potential lovers though? Or not talk to them at all? Was it easier to feel less threatened or jealous that way? Because gods, he knew he could be jealous. It was a flaw - and he wasn’t a perfect person. He had a temper that ran hot as the flames of a smelting fire when it was pushed, and there were certain shades of green that lived in him. Other Mobius felt similarly - he’d put up with Loki’s This would be too. Then again, most relationships were hard. You didn’t give up before you started. “Well - “ He cleared his throat, stealing one of Loki’s green beans. Yes, Mobius had his own, but it was just to be cheeky. And he chewed and swallowed. “I’m glad you explained how you felt. I guess just keep being honest with me, if there’s ever anyone else? I’m not going anywhere. And - of course I’ll forgive your mistakes. Just as I hope you’ll forgive mine.” Being honest wasn’t easy for Loki. It wasn’t easy for him to open up about his personal life. It wasn’t easy for him to explain how he felt when he didn’t know how he felt. Nor could he imbue the experience he’d had on someone who’d lived an entirely different life than him. Let alone someone who didn’t know who he was. Mobius was a challenge. Most people could remember who they were, where they came from, what they liked. Most people knew if they had a family, wife, husband, children, dog, picket fence. Mobius didn’t. All he knew were the lies told to him by the TVA. Convincing him that Loki was capable of loving different people in different ways and for different reasons—when Loki had in fact never loved at all—was a long shot. But it was the truth. And Loki was trying to form a better relationship with the truth. And thereby with others around him. He was holding his breath waiting for Mobius’s reply. Because even though this wasn’t a promise of something, there was still the potential of being turned down before anything even happened. And Loki didn’t want that. He wanted a chance to see what there could be between them. “Thank you. And I will. Or at least I will do my best,” Loki said after a brief pause to take in Mobius’s response. It wasn’t overwhelming to get an answer. Loki hadn’t expected it to be. But he had expected the opposite. He’d expected to be turned away. Shunned from favor. Dismissed. And it took him a moment to dispel the shock he had at not receiving the expected response. He’d prepared himself for the bad. That wasn’t an easy thing to shake off. Surprised again. He really needed to give people more credit. He tucked his hair back behind his ear. Then a devilish smirk crossed his lips. “But if this does become something and we ever find ourselves in Asgard with myself as king, then we’ll have to discuss which of our plethora of lovers will be bearing the royal children.” Wink. “Your plethora of lovers,” Mobius mumbled with a snort, but he wasn’t offended by the comment. This was, admittedly, going to be a lot to get used to - but he’d see what happened. At the very least, he could try to understand - and could try to see where everything went, and how it unfurled and blossomed between them; already he felt as if they were on a good path. He’d been honest with Loki about how he felt, and it seemed like the reverse was also true - so Mobius couldn’t go into this saying he’d been deceived about anything, because he hadn’t. He set the fork down and leaned in, cupping Loki’s face in his hands and pressing a kiss to his forehead - a few times, something chaste and affectionate. Wouldn’t kiss him on the mouth yet though, since Loki hadn’t said yes (even though Mobius had a toothbrush in the newly-renovated impossible bathroom). “And maybe I want you to bear my child.” What? He could say scandalous shit too. Loki stifled a laugh at Mobius’s retort. But that didn’t stop the grin from creeping across his face or the warm blush to redden his cheeks. It had been a jest, of course. Loki was dead in his world. He no longer existed in his timeline. And they were trapped in Derleth. There was practically no chance of him ever seeing Asgard again, let alone sitting on its throne. Those days were behind him. All he had now was Derleth. And no one here would ever accept him in a leadership role. And so long as the resets remained, well, Loki didn’t have to worry about accidentally impregnating any horses. Maybe that was a small blessing. Loki never had been much for fatherhood—or motherhood, for that matter. And as far as role models went, he was pretty much the bottom of the barrel. He was about to match Mobius’s mocking quip with one of his own when his face was caught in two hands. That grin disappeared instantly, replaced by a look of surprise and fear. Fear because he thought Mobius was going to kiss him. And after all that, too. Perhaps it would have been all right. Maybe that’s what they should have done at this point. But there was something inside Loki—a scared, sensitive voice—that wasn’t ready. He’d never say that, of course. He’d use every other excuse in the book first. He’d claim that he wanted the moment to be right. That he wanted to be certain that Mobius understood what he was getting into. Anything except the real truth. Loki was afraid. He was afraid that Mobius—that anyone who desired him—might realize he wasn’t worth it. But Mobius only kissed his forehead and Loki’s panic subsided with a gentle sigh. And then Mobius turned the joke back on Loki and Loki gave an awkward chuckle. The kind that wasn’t quite certain if the jest was indeed a jest or a subtle hint of the truth. In that sense, Mobius was very difficult to read. Loki looked into Mobius’s eyes. He could feel their knees touching. Loki’s leg slipped a little under the desk until their calves pressed against each other. The skin of Mobius’s slightly calloused palms was harsh against his face, but Loki didn’t mind. For a moment he thought one of those shrimps was doing a backflip in his belly. What was this? Was this nerves? Was this anticipation? Anxiety? Desire? Was it because Loki actually felt an attraction to Mobius or was it a combination of the conversation and his memories of the way Hunter Mobius had made Vampire Loki cry out in ecstasy? Loki didn’t know. But he did know that fighting against his instinct was agonizing. Loki was, after all, a creature of impulse. And to deny those impulses required all of his energy and focus. Which was near to impossible when Mobius was looking at him like that. “Well, that wouldn’t be entirely unheard of,” Loki finally said, a slight stammer in his voice. He kept his face still. He didn’t want Mobius to let go. Not yet. “But with my track record you might end up with a gargantuan serpent for a child. Or a three-headed bat. Or a flesh-eating koala.” Mobius laughed, but it was something of a purr - a husky chuckle, a steel wire inside a cord of silk. His thumbs stroked Loki’s cheekbones, the sharpness there - sharp enough to cut diamonds; he had such a nice face. “I’d be willing to risk it. And I’m sure we’d love our flesh-eating koala dearly,” he said. It sort of hit him then too, that he was being serious? He knew - even with the black hole that happened to be his memories, even without poking those memories with a stick - that he was basically built for fatherhood. The dad vibes were strong with him - they had been with Hunter Mobius too. “But I guess we can decide that - uh, later.” If it would even be possible in Derleth - not with the constant resets. They’d have to settle someplace first, which was what he was working on. Hopefully it would happen soon - some stability would do them all good, Loki especially. Mobius could tell he was getting restless. Restless didn’t begin to describe it. Loki had been teetering on a very delicate balance for a while now. Part of him enjoyed the constant change. It provided a distraction, gave him something to confront, a problem to solve. But then he spent seven weeks in the real world dystopia and something changed. He was the odd man out during that particular reset. No one liked living in those cramped, uncomfortable quarters with the constant threat of technical disaster and death looming overhead. But Loki saw it differently. Loki saw it as something stable. Something he could rebuild. A place where he could become a different Loki. Where he could carve out a new identity for himself and earn the trust and respect of people. It was a place where he could actually help and do some good. And that was an opportunity he’d never been presented with before. Because he’d always been pressed under the shadow of Thor. Loki had thrived in that week. He’d taken on responsibilities he’d never done before. He helped rescue the people of Derleth from the harvesting fields. He aided the rebels in their attempts to take down some of the control towers that were directly connected to the matrix. He’d stepped up. He’d demonstrated that he could be a leader. And it was a role that gave him immense satisfaction. He could have stayed there forever. He’d been prepared to sacrifice the resets and the ‘safety’ of the Void for that. Then Derleth took it away from him. And no one seemed to notice that Loki had been happy that week. Nor did they remember—or care—that he’d been the best version of himself. Not that it mattered. He’d fallen back on his old habits the moment that world disappeared. Because that’s what everyone expected. Hel, that’s what Loki expected. But thinking about that was a waste of time. They weren’t going to return. It didn’t matter. Better to busy himself with the present. Better to let his thoughts linger on what was happening right then. Like the gentle massaging motion of Mobius’s thumbs over his face. Green beans all but forgotten. “Do you have these feelings for all Lokis?” he asked. “If I disappeared tomorrow and another took my place, would there still be this attraction?” To most people that might have sounded like a trick question, but it wasn’t. The answer wouldn’t have insulted Loki. He was just trying to understand how Mobius could feel so much whilst having spent so little time with him. He wanted to learn how the feelings of a seemingly insignificant stranger made him question his own emotions. “I haven’t met all of them, but - I think it’s more like...not about me personally? But every variant of me,” Mobius attempted to explain. Did he instantly have romantic inclinations toward Classic Loki, or Boastful Loki? No, of course not. What about Sylvie? She probably hated him, so that wasn’t even an issue. “Every variant of me cares about a Loki. Already does, or will. I’m pretty convinced of that.” And maybe he'd been happy with some partners in his lost memories, but it wasn’t really the delightful roller coaster that this was (and, boy, this was a roller coaster). He had waited - had watched from the outside, a specter. Just observing and researching and studying the God of Mischief, all that information. Loki's entire life had been there before, his existence played out - and Mobius learned what love and longing and desire felt like, that he was certain of. “Vampire Loki - he said we all belong to each other. I think he was right. And you - “ His fingers stroked down Loki’s cheeks, coming to loop under his chin. “That inextricably tied to the soul thing.” Honestly, that was part of the reason Mobius was opening up to the idea of non-monogamy - because he knew how true that statement was. Not much was going to change that iron-clad truth either. “So … It’s just me then? I’m the Loki you fantasized about from your little cubicle office outside the parameters of space and time? Of all the billions of Loki permutations, of all the Variant Gods of Mischief, I’m the one who stood out to you? My file is the one that continuously landed on top of the reading list? Over and over and over again?” The questions flip-flopped between playful taunts and genuine curiosity. Because Loki wasn’t quite sure how to reconcile Mobius’s answer. The idea that every Mobius Variant cared for a Loki Variant. That in all the possible existing realities where the two of them crossed paths, there was a connection. A feeling. An attraction. Like a magnet tugging across the stratospheres. It was difficult to fathom. It was even more difficult to accept. And it was also a little bit sad to think that most Lokis probably never crossed paths with a Mobius. And vice versa. But the saddest thing for Loki was the fact that this was the only time he’d ever felt like he was special. Like he took precedence over others. No one had ever made him feel like he was the only one. Not in any relationship. Loki was always the second choice at best. “I don’t really believe in fate,” he said, reaching up to take one of Mobius’s hands in his own. “But I do believe that we’re drawn to certain people who complete something we’re missing in ourselves. So, in that sense, it wouldn’t surprise me if every Loki has a Mobius. Just as every Loki has a Thor. And every Thor a hammer.” Loki grinned. “That was a good line, wasn’t it? Inextricably tied to the soul. Perhaps I ought to have been a poet. I could have conquered realms and hearts with a pen instead of a Tesseract.” “It was all you,” Mobius confirmed with a laugh - and that was true. He did have a soft spot toward Loki’s, in a sense - maybe that was why he connected so easily with Classic Loki, who seemed so surprised yet intrigued by the idea that Mobius was willing to throw away everything he’d ever known for a Loki or two. But love? Yearning, desire, longing? The feeling of butterflies doing leaps and leaps against your ribcage, spring breaking through the harshness of winter, and the beauty of the stars in the sky and how you’d be glad to pull any of those stars down for this person? That was all this Loki. He was absolutely, without a doubt, completely special to Mobius. He hoped he could properly convey that one day. He wouldn’t stop trying. With a crooked grin, he squeezed Loki’s hand. “See, being drawn to certain people - that was good too. You really are a poet.” “You compliment me so much that I’m beginning to question whether I can believe a single word you say.” And while the comment was meant as an off handed joke, it wasn’t actually untrue. Loki had a huge ego. There was no denying that. His arrogance was almost unparalleled in the universe. But that was all a pretense. An illusion. At his core he had a very poor self image. He’d always cherished what few compliments he’d received from people—mostly his mother. Hearing Mobius continuously point out something good about him gave his system a shock. The disbelief he had in his own self worth, something he’d crafted over centuries, found it very difficult to hear anything positive about himself. Proof that even gods doubted their abilities. Even the most powerful people in the universe saw themselves as frauds. “Well, I was always quicker with words than I was with swords. That’s partly why Thor and I disagreed so much as children. While he and his warriors were barging into battle with nothing but brash stubbornness, I was reading up on strategy and listening while my mother discussed matters of state.” Loki shrugged. “Not that it did any good. Thor became king despite his missteps. At the end of the day people still prefer muscles and dumb smiles to cunning and wit. Brawn wins out over brain every day of the week.” Loki looked up at the portrait of the unfamiliar man on the wall. “You don’t think he’s someone from your past, do you? Maybe a brother or a friend?” “I don’t mind celebrating what you’re good at. Doesn’t seem productive to highlight what you’re bad at right now,” Mobius grinned a bit - it was a teasing smile, but warm too. He tried to be a person who exuded caring and compassion - another contrast to Loki’s chill, but he had his own moments of warmth also. His own way of showing that he cared. He scooted closer, assuming a more comfortable position - and he was still holding Loki’s hand but Mobius supposed he was that person. A person who wanted to hold the hand of someone he liked while eating, as if he couldn’t stand to be separated for even one millisecond. Romantic, maybe. His pale blue gaze shifted toward the portrait too, and he let out a thoughtful sigh. “I’m not sure - I guess it could be? I wish I knew,” he admitted. “I go back and forth about wanting to know. But maybe...once all this research pays off, maybe you can help me know a little?” Taking it slow would have to happen - if all of his memories got slammed back into his head at the same time, the one-thousand year-old bandaid ripped off a scabbed-over wound, he’d end up worse than C-20 had been. Probably wouldn’t be able to recover from that easily. “For the record, I’m good at everything. I’m just rough around the edges when it comes to personal and social cues.” Loki smirked. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Mobius moved his chair closer. He felt another twisting sensation in his stomach. Not from the shrimp, which had probably gone cold at this point, but from that peculiar sense of anticipation. Of wanting. Odin’s beard, why did he feel so insecure and vulnerable around this man? Why did he feel like none of his illusions protected him? Loki waved his hand over their plates, instantly reheating the meals with a green glow. He picked up his fork again and moved the green beans around his plate like a child who wished they’d received something else for dinner and was trying to make it look as though they’d eaten. Was it nerves? Disinterest? Maybe his thoughts were too full of other things he wanted to do. Things he promised himself he wouldn’t indulge. Sometimes he missed the days when he did whatever he wanted without thought to the consequences. Now he was avoiding looking at the mouth of a man he dreamt about kissing. “What?” Loki blinked. Had he heard Mobius correctly? “What do you mean? Are you thinking about having someone rifle around in your brain to restore your memories? Like enchantment? Do you have any idea how risky that is?” Do you have any idea how hypocritical you are? That fuzzy confusion crossed his features again. But just as before, he shook it away. “Memories are complicated. And extracting them is incredibly dangerous. There’s no telling what you might uncover or what could go wrong if your mind tries to protect itself against the intrusion. You could end up worse than you are now.” Memories were complicated, huh? Well, Mobius wouldn’t really know - because he didn’t have any. Not of what mattered prior to becoming a slave for the TVA, anyway. “They took everything from me,” he protested, lower lip trembling just a little. “Not just someone - I’m asking you. I don’t even know my favorite food, Loki. I just have this place telling me what it is because somehow it knows when I don’t - and I really forking hate that.” He’d worked nonstop for a millennia, believing he served these omnipotent beings who wrote out the completely mad script, the play, that was the universe - the Sacred Timeline rolled out like a winter’s day, oftentimes bleak and grey and stretching on forever until it was cut off abruptly, the flip of a switch. Or a dagger Sylvie wielded, quick enough to stop a heart. But throughout that tenure, he’d seen pretty much everything - literally, everything. Other people. Other lives lost. Or gained. Nothing of his own. All Mobius knew was that he couldn’t focus too much on the risks - he’d recognize them and keep them in mind but he had to do something. He was here, sheltered by whatever this pocket dimension was, and for now he had to make the best of that situation. This included trying to unscramble all the damage the TVA did to him. “Please,” he wasn’t trying to plead, but. Well. “It doesn’t have to be right now. But eventually. I trust you.” Loki didn’t know how to respond to that. He felt a little guilty that his initial reaction was to say no. Not because he didn’t want to help Mobius, but because he knew the risks. He knew that in helping Mobius he could also hurt him. Especially since he didn’t know exactly what the TVA had done to him. Perhaps if he’d had the Variant’s memories and knew more about that world. Or if Sylvie could give him a glimpse into what she knew. But Loki wasn’t about to ask her to let him probe her mind. He could do it, of course. He’d done it before with little problem. Valkyrie’s mind had been an open book to him when he broke through the mental barrier to her past. And then there was his experience with Clint. But restoring memories wasn’t easy magic. And it had to be performed carefully. Slowly. Because the act of going from nothing to everything could very easily break a person’s mind. Particularly if that mind wasn’t strong to begin with. Because it wasn’t just memories that returned. It was emotions. Experiences. Opinions. Relationships. Losses. Hurt. Pain. Love. Grief. Everything. “I don’t know, Mobius. I understand why you want this. Why you need it. But that’s … That’s a lot of trust to put in someone. To put in me. Not to mention the fact that we don’t know how Derleth will respond. A spell like that could have many consequences. I have to think about it.” Loki pushed his plate away and turned his chair so he was facing Mobius directly. “And you understand what could happen, right? You realize that you might remember a family, a spouse, children. Anything that you were before, you’d be again. And that could change your feelings about other things. Or people.” “I’ve thought about it,” Mobius admitted. “I might have had a family - but I also have to face the fact that if I did, they’re gone now. The TVA pruned that whole area with a reset charge - if they survived in the Void, then...” he trailed off, because he didn’t think his hypothetical family made it far past the munchies of Alioth. That was what the creature did - it was created to consume, a cloud of black ash sucking up everything in its path. Or maybe any family would be as scrappy as he was, who could say - Mobius wasn’t holding out hope, however. He faced Loki too, leaning in to place one hand on his knee - fingers tapped there, the way he’d done before; Loki said he’d liked it. Mobius was happy to repeat the gesture, even if he wasn’t doing it consciously. “Whatever I had, it would just be something I’d honor in my memories as I built my own future - with you, I hope. And that - that would be enough. You’re enough. I hope you know that.” Squeezing Loki’s knee, he pulled back slightly, a hopeful spark in his eye. “Thinking about it is good. Thank you,” he made sure to say, since he knew considering it was still a lot. And Mobius was asking a lot too - he didn’t expect Loki to agree right away. “It’s not just the memories though.” Loki leaned forward so that he could also place a hand on Mobius’s knee. “You said that the TVA lied to you. That everything they were doing, everything they told you, was a facade. What if pruning the timelines was also a lie? What if you get your memories back and then discover that the world you came from still exists? I know we think of time as a straight line, but it might not be. What if it’s possible that those worlds are still intact somewhere? As well as all the people who were there at the time you were taken from it.” Loki slid his hand halfway up Mobius’s thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze before he let go. Perhaps that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t that Loki wanted to convince Mobius not to go looking for his past. If that’s what Mobius wanted then eventually, when Loki thought it was safe, he would do what he could to help him. But he wanted to be certain that Mobius had considered all of the possibilities. Stranger things had happened, after all. Like Loki being trapped in a weekly resetting pocket dimension. Alive. When he should have been dead. ‘You’re enough.’ Loki knew he wasn’t. But they weren’t at the stage in their relationship yet for him to argue that. Mobius would learn eventually that Loki would never live up to the image he’d created of him in his mind. At least, that’s what Loki believed. Perhaps he would be the one to be proven wrong. For once he would have welcomed not being right. Loki let go of Mobius’s leg and sat back. He glanced up at the portrait of the stranger on the wall. Then he raised a hand and made a wiping motion in the air. A hazy green cloud passed in front of the portrait and when it dissipated the image of the man was gone, leaving a blank background in the frame in its place. He didn’t know if Michael’s trickery or Derleth’s magic would allow that change to remain, but at least for the time being Mobius didn’t have to stare at a stranger when he went to bed. He turned his attention back to Mobius and offered a halfhearted smile. “When we figure out who you’re really missing then we can put the proper portrait up there.” Honestly, Mobius had never considered that pruning the timelines had been a lie - he’d been pruned. He had seen firsthand what happened when you met the other end of a baton - it felt like he was being ripped apart at a molecular level and then pieced back together again with a needle and thread, all in an instant; there was nothing about that pain which was a lie. Not when it was so real and felt like cramming a year’s worth of torture into a few single moments - it was that excruciating. But maybe there was something - the idea of those worlds still existing and not meeting the other end of a smoke monster’s appetite was a better idea than Alioth being used as a tool to ‘end’ the first multiversal war (and there was no end - the TVA’s creator didn’t bring peace, he didn’t cure any disease. He just slapped bandaids on wounds without considering the bigger picture). Anyway, he did have to consider all angles, all options - that was what an accomplished analyst did. “You do make good points,” he chuckled wryly, glancing at the blank portrait. It seemed promising - already a positive step forward, and he felt better about a to be continued than just staring at a stranger and desperately wishing the face meant something. “Yeah - that sounds like a plan to me.” “Of course I make good points. I’m a forking genius.” And that wasn’t an exaggeration. Loki was smart. Very smart. He just sometimes allowed his impulses to get the better of his intelligence. If he ever learned to control his anger and his temper and his split-second decision making skills, then he probably could have had everything he ever wanted. Even a throne. If. But Loki was both a master of change and a creature of habit. Eventually he’d have to find a balance. Or he’d keep falling into the same trap over and over again. He frowned when Mobius didn’t address the portrait directly. Just a twinge of disappointment. He thought Mobius might ask him to change the portrait to— Don’t be ridiculous. That’s not how things work and you know it, his inner voice chastised him for his naïveté. For wishful thinking. For his selfishness. For wanting something without first putting in the work to earn it. “Perhaps I ought to go,” Loki said after a pause. “I’ve taken up so much of your time. And I’m sure you have other things you need to be doing this evening.” “Oh, right - of course,” Mobius nodded, and he wouldn’t kick Loki out but he realized that maybe he needed something of a break. They’d talked about a lot, it felt like - an emotional sort of conversation that made one feel put through the ringer. “I don’t have anything else to do though. I’m just glad you came by.” It had been nice, shrimp and green beans and the company - maybe next time Mobius would add candles. Or other mood IKEA lighting. Since they’d have plenty of green beans and shrimp to last throughout the week. Fork. “You can come back later?” he added, hopefully. “If you want to sleep here again. I’ll scratch behind your ears.” That made him chuckle a little, as he leaned in and kissed Loki again - on the cheek this time, however, lips pressed to the high plane of the bone that reminded him of the edges and angles of ice, perfectly sculpted. “Have a safe stroll, kitten.” “I appreciate you inviting me. It was … enlightening.” And emotionally overwhelming, but Loki kept that to himself. He still didn’t know how he felt about some of the things they’d spoken about. It would take a lot of processing and consideration. He needed to let his mind sink into all of these truths. In particular Mobius’s feelings for him. Those were a lot and Loki felt a bit as though they’d been dropped on him like a ton of bricks. Which was not to say that it deterred him from Mobius. If anything it made him want to get to know him better. But it was a lot to hear for a man who’d never felt like anyone other than his mother had ever loved him. Just as before, Loki stilled when he saw Mobius lean in close. From forehead to cheek. Mobius wasn’t subtle. And while Loki wasn’t quite ready to return the sentiment—playing hard to get was attractive, right?—he did pull Mobius into an embrace afterward. He held him close for a few seconds longer than a casual hug, pressing his face into Mobius’s hair long enough to get a good whiff of his shampoo, and then he let go. “I promised a friend I would watch a movie with her tonight. We started a marathon weeks ago that was interrupted by multiple resets. Sadly no televisions in dystopian apocalypses or Schmigadoon.” Loki smiled. “But perhaps I’ll come by after if it’s not too late. I did like those ear scratches.” Loki took a step backward in the direction of the door. The sudden space between them left him cold after an evening of closeness. And that spot on his leg where their knees had been practically glued together beneath the desk felt empty. “You know, one of these days I’m going to come up with a nickname for you. Give me time. I’ll make sure it’s just as irritating as pussycat.” Mobius’s mustache twitched, a clear sign he was about to smile really big. “I’ll be here whenever you want to come back,” he agreed. He might wander around to have a look at the green again, taking in the scenery of the newly-manicured lawn and what was the forest, but it wouldn’t be a long kwalk - just enough time to get some fresh air. Or whatever constituted fresh air around here, in the Void. “And I’ll leave you to that challenge - but I believe you can rise to it,” he added. A truth, a dirty joke, maybe all of the above? He wouldn’t say for sure. He had leave at least one thing a little bit of a mystery. |