Loki (fiorvalr) wrote in noexits, @ 2022-02-05 22:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread/narrative, marvel (tv/movies): loki laufeyson, ₴ inactive: mobius m. mobius 2, → week 030 (hoth) |
HOTH | DAY 2
Loki had scouted out the area around campus that morning before he met up with Mobius. Rey had provided everyone with instructions on how to find the base and using that information he created a portal spell to take them there in order to save his mission partner from having to slog through the snow. But if they decided to go further into the wilderness they’d have to find another means of transportation. At least for long distances. Loki didn’t know how accurate his portals would be in a territory he wasn’t familiar with. And the last thing he wanted to do was jump them into the center of a mountain. Or worse. In the mouth of some unimaginable snow beast. Which, according to the warning Stevie and Billy posted yesterday, wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility.
Loki shook the snow crystals off the coat and used a spell to clean it from the inside out. He even added a bit of warming magic to the inside fabric so it wouldn’t freeze Mobius’s torso simply from having been lying in the snow for who-knows-how long. With Wanda’s help yesterday, Loki had managed to put together a few cold weather outfits for people based on blankets and magic, but he didn’t trust them to last without someone constantly around to magically adjust them to the quickly changing temperatures. At least these outfits had served some people once before. It was a good sign they’d work again.
He handed the coat to Mobius and then began tugging the boots off the body as well. “If they don’t fit I can adjust them.”
Again, another clean up spell and one to remove the ice from the tread. Then Loki pulled another body out from a fallen pile of rubble half covered by a snow drift and began shedding it of its winter attire. Technically Loki didn’t need the extra covering. His Jotunn physique was made for intensely low temperatures and frigid landscapes. Actually, he felt a level of comfort he hadn’t in a very long time. Power, too. With every rush of cold that seeped through the cracks in the base he felt a surge of his Frost Giant abilities. Even his skin, normally covered by an almost impenetrable Asgardian illusion, had begun to turn blue. Something he was subtly aware of, but had yet to comment upon.
Embarrassment.
There was still some timidness when it came to his true appearance. And by Frost Giant standards Loki wasn’t exactly impressive. Even at full strength he was an ice runt compared to most born on Jotunheim. It wasn’t a surprise his birth father had left him to die.
“It doesn’t look like there was much of a battle here. More like a massacre.” Loki nodded to blaster stains on the walls as he fit his feet into the pair of boots he pulled off of the second corpse. “I doubt any of these people died from the cold.”
He glanced back at Mobius. “Do those fit?”
By the Timekeepers, this week was going to be a doozy. Which wasn’t surprising, considering the week before had been a doozy. The one before that kind of weird too - though it was, admittedly, differing levels of trauma. Emotional and mental trauma happened to be their own animals, and was sort of like the figurative equivalent of a hurricane and high winds - newspapers and debris swept in a storm, tumbling around like they were caught in washing machines. The emotional torrent pummeled your skin raw, and it was a lot of sort of bounce back from.
This looked to be more along the lines of physical torment - but Mobius supposed it could be both. Because when it was this cold, the isolation and the madness really sank in deep - he imagined it would happen quickly to some of the folks residing in Derleth. Not to mention cabin fever, because not everyone was going to want to venture outside as it stood and he didn’t expect a sun ray of light to even begin to slice its way through the chill, which was beyond bitter.
Still, he and Loki were out here - just them, doing their best. That was good enough.
Hopefully they’d find something worthwhile during their trek, but they wouldn’t know until they tried - and Mobius was definitely a doer, though he didn’t begrudge anyone else their blankets and indoor heat. He just had to set aside another bit of good vibes for the continuation of power on campus and enough food to last. “We’re all good over here, honey,” he promised, lacing up the boots and slipping into the coat. The warming spell was a nice effect - he felt downright toasty. For a minute, anyway.
Glancing up from where he was working with the laces, powder blue eyes crinkled at the corners when he focused on Loki. “There’s something I wanted to ask you first though. And do, if you’ll let me.”
This had been the first week in a very long time that Loki woke up and didn’t feel his usual motivation to go out, explore, and learn more about the world around them. Was this the result of the perpetual monotony of constant change? Was he becoming a different type of person now? One who didn’t leap at the next new adventure with a bright, burning passion to discover something new? He didn’t know. All he knew was that when he looked out his window and saw the frostbitten landscape reminiscent of his birth realm, something inside him fizzled. Hence his decision to stay inside most of the first day. And, to be fair, he thought he deserved that break. As he thought others deserved it. On the surface, last week didn’t seem to be too bad. But there was a lot of subtle manipulation that Michael brought with him. He poked needles under the skin at the things that hurt. Things that Loki, and others, had buried deep inside themselves. And while it was important to search their temporary environment and prepare for the worst, it was also important to nourish the soul. And Loki’s soul hadn’t been nourished in months. Hel, maybe even years. And he knew depression when he felt it. When he saw it. He wasn’t the only one crumbling under the intense strain Derleth put on them.
And Loki was quietly grieving as well. Grieving the death of Professor Odinson. He’d probably never find out if that Variant version of himself managed to prevent being devoured by the Void monster. And that weighed on Loki more than he anticipated. He wanted to believe the man had survived. But this was Derleth.
Did any of them really survive this place?
He’d been furious at Julia and Sylvie for chastising him on the network. For belittling his decision to stay inside. Like it was his duty, his obligation, to do what other people thought he should do. Like offering his company and his closeness and a brief stay of joy among friends wasn’t important. It was important. Not just for people like Wanda, who’d lost almost all of her family in a single go again, but for Loki, too. Loki wasn’t okay. He wasn’t well. He was hanging on to a thread. He was barely staying afloat. And while he didn’t want anyone’s pity or their sympathy, he was enraged that they hadn’t stopped to consider that he was doing the best he could.
They didn’t even ask if he was okay.
Loki laced up the boots, securing them with an extra flap of fabric over top. Then he slipped his arms into the coat. Again, not entirely necessary. But it covered most of his skin. And it made him look like he belonged in this terrain.
He raised a brow at Mobius’s comment. An anxious knot appeared in his stomach out of nowhere, clenching in anticipation of whatever Mobius was about to say. “Ask away.”
Mobius stepped closer, his gaze raking over Loki’s form - there was something about seeing him in his Frost Giant glory that was really exquisite to Mobius. Like he’d told Loki before, he’d ended up with a couple of Jotunn in his interrogation room at the TVA on occasion. They were statuesque, intimidating, elegant creatures - they survived and persevered, they carried on, and Loki was no exception to that despite having been born a bit smaller than the average Frost Giant.
But Mobius also knew that his...lover (were they lovers? Officially? How did one become official there?) was tired. Feeling beaten down and lost and turned inside out, which was why stability was so sorely needed. It was within their reach, they just had to grab it - and hold on with bloodied, likely broken hands, and not let go until they could wrestle this place into some form of submission.
“Is it okay if I touch you?” he asked, wanting to reach out and run his fingers along chilly blue skin, along those markings - but he wouldn’t, unless it was okay. Not that he was afraid Loki would say no, but frostbite was the immediate concern; he also knew Loki wouldn’t want Mobius’s fingers to turn into popsicle sticks so soon into this week.
Loki’s forehead furrowed when he looked at Mobius. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of how he looked. This was who he was, after all. Did he wish he were a true Asgardian? Of course. But if he had been, then he wouldn’t have been Loki. Not really. He would have been something—someone—completely different. Perhaps even unrecognizable to himself. But there was a little bit of a struggle in his thoughts. Frost Giants were supposed to be giant. And maybe if Loki perfected his Jotunn powers he’d find a way to be larger. But he was still small. Asgardian small. And having the blue skin while they were out in the cold was a reminder that he’d never fit in. Not in any of his families. Not in any realm.
Loki was always alone in that sense.
He zipped up the jacket and stepped closer to Mobius, bridging the gap between them. His breath was heavy on the air, thick clouds hovering like a hazy frost whenever he exhaled.
“You shouldn’t take the gloves off for very long,” Loki said. But his hands glowed green, stretching a warm bubble of space around them. It wasn’t an easy spell to uphold. It was an Asgardian spell and his natural Jotun magic wanted to work against it. It wanted to wallow in the cold and use that as the focus of his powers. But he could keep the warmth for short bursts at a time until he adjusted to this new change in his abilities. “Try to be quick. Just to be safe. Maybe later if we find someplace more inhabitable we can take our time.”
“I won’t,” Mobius promised, and he stuffed his gloves into the coat pockets for the time being - just long enough to glide his thumbs along Loki’s cheekbones, kind of in awe of their sharpness and how prominent his features seemed to be in this form. Less soft, certainly, than when he looked Asgardian - but even then, his angles were all edges and ice. “You’re just beautiful, that’s all.”
Mobius kissed him then, sweetly like he was sacred, like they were someplace sweet too - in the haze and heat of a summer’s day drinking lemonade with crushed ice, or beneath a sky where the stars glittered eternally. They didn’t have to be fake Void stars, they could be real.
But alright, gloves back on and he patted Loki’s chest - he didn’t have to keep the spell going for long. Energy was better conserved. “It’s not very romantic here so I like the idea of taking our time later, and uh - “ Mobius glanced around; their surroundings were bleak and they’d just stripped dead bodies for clothes, but all he had wanted was a moment. Just one. A little ripple in a pond. “Alright, let’s gather anything else we want to take with us? We can keep going.”
Loki’s natural instinct was to perceive this relationship—because whether Loki was willing to admit it or not it was a relationship—as dangerous. Dangerous because it threatened to upturn Loki’s entire perception of his own emotions and what he was capable of feeling towards other people. He wasn’t close to being where Mobius was with his feelings. But he sensed Mobius’s intentions through his touch. He could practically taste the adoration on his lips. The affection. The—
—yes, that word.
And it was beginning to creep into the back of Loki’s thoughts. Because he felt something else behind his own responses to Mobius’s attention as well. He just didn’t know what it was. Was it lust? Was it merely the craving for physical touch? Was it the heartache of never having met anyone who saw him in that way? Was it a need to feel important to someone? Or was it something else? Something … more.
When Mobius kissed him he wished they were somewhere else. Back at the campus. In Mobius’s office. Rolled up in each other on the floor.
It hurt in his chest when Mobius broke away. And with this face—his true features—Loki wasn’t capable of hiding the anguish in his red eyes. Nor could he hide the desire.
This man was potentially the most dangerous thing to ever happen to him.
“People don’t usually say that,” Loki muttered, touching his face where Mobius’s fingers had been. He suddenly wanted to give up this foolish search for tools and supplies. He just wanted something happy. Something for himself. Some time to explore these new sensations.
The spell between them faltered and broke. Then a rattling sound towards the end of the corridor, followed by a throaty growl, snatched his attention. Loki whipped out his daggers from one of his magical pockets.
“Did that sound like an animal to you?”
That was definitely a weird sound - Mobius jumped back too, not wanting to separate from Loki. But he was just a little startled - and that baaaahing he heard kind of reminded him of a sheep, but one that was a lot more angry. He couldn’t even begin to fathom what that would be. Guess they were going to find out though.
“It did,” he responded, forcing his brain to wrench itself back into flight or fight mode, and make a decision. After being dropped into the Void, it had been easy - stitched back together, molecules fusing; he’d chosen flight because outrunning a hungry cloud that sucked up anything that lived and breathed, in search of a meal to satisfy a hunger that could never be satisfied at all was the only option. Here, it might be fight.
Which was why he reached for his baton, when Loki went for the daggers. Mobius switched it on, just in case, and the hum of the coils meant that he wasn’t fucking around. Disintegrating a threat worked just as well as pruning. “I didn’t think anything else was on this ship, but - maybe it’s something useful.” Instead of something that was going to try to eat them.
It wasn’t Loki’s normal habit to walk first into a situation he didn’t know. He always fell in line behind Thor on their missions to the other realms. Back when Loki used to follow his brother into battle alongside the warriors. That felt like a lifetime ago. Two lifetimes even. But he didn’t do it this time. He knew he had the advantage on this planet. And even though Mobius looked capable of taking down a small legion of dark elves with that baton of his, Loki did something he rarely did. He went first, daggers ready.
“Stay close.”
The corridor twisted past a series of barracks and a large hangar bay with some ships that looked as though they’d flown into the base on fire. What Loki thought was a growl earlier sounded more like an echoing bray the closer they got. Loki peeked around a corner to the right. Nothing but dozens of boxes, tipped over and frozen.
When they entered the next open room, Loki almost stumbled over in surprise. He slowly lowered his arms as he stared at the large bipedal creatures that were huddled in pens. The species was unfamiliar to him and looked to be part mammal and part reptile. On the nearest wall hung various saddles and reins, along with what appeared to be a sign-off schedule for whomever had been taking care of these—Loki narrowed his eyes at the fine print, but he couldn’t make out the language—whatever they were. How those creatures had managed to survive while the rest of the base hadn’t seemed to be nothing short of a miracle.
“I think they’re like … horses?” Loki looked impressed. “They must be native to this planet if they’ve been able to withstand these temperatures with minimal power to the base. What do you think? Worth taking out? Or should we continue scouting through the base and try taking them out tomorrow?”
It didn’t take Mobius long to come to a decision - sure, it was cold, but his synapses were still firing. His thought processes weren’t slogging, caught in molasses (he’d see what was happening on, say, Day 5 or something). And while he was unfamiliar with this planet (also unfamiliar with the language scrawled on the sign-out schedule - surprisingly, here was one language the eon in the TVA hadn’t ensured he’d learn) he wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip by. Who knew if they’d be back and these creatures still would be around?
“Let’s take them out now,” he suggested, reaching up to run his gloved hand along one of the long, curved horns - it was kind of cute, this thing, and reminded him of a goat and a...lizard? Something reptilian, anyway; it was strange because cold-blooded creatures and arctic temperatures usually didn’t mix. Must be the fur and blubber that did it.
Or actually he was sure it was the blubber - all the oils secreted through their pores and man, that was a smell. Made Mobius wrinkle his nose.
“Been awhile since I’ve ridden a horse but I should be able to make do,” he added, powering the baton down to conserve energy and opening one of the pens so he could coax the creature toward him. It looked like it didn’t want to stomp him anyway, letting out a chuff of air through large nostrils. “Riding these around, we should be able to cover some decent ground. I’d open Timedoors, but - I also don’t know what coordinates to plug in.” At least this would help with figuring that out.
“I can be a horse.” Loki grinned before giving Mobius a sultry wink.
At first glance he never would have taken Mobius for the adventurous type. He looked like the kind of person who spent their entire life behind a desk. Granted, yes, Mobius had a good physique. But the way his shirt was buttoned all the way to the top and his tie perfectly threaded around his neck, he didn’t look like the kind of man who’d climb onto the back of a strange beast in the middle of a frozen wasteland. Loki liked how disarming that was. He liked being surprised by Mobius. And he was. Almost every moment they were together Mobius said or did something that Loki didn’t expect.
It kept the game interesting.
“Alright. But I’m taking the one with the crooked horn,” Loki said, pointing to one of the larger tauntauns in the back. On closer inspection it wasn’t actually crooked, but cracked. Partially broken off. But Loki didn’t care. He’d already formed an immediate liking to the rare beast. Intrigue at first sight.
He grabbed a saddle and harness off the wall and made his way to the pen. The tauntauns made a ruckus at first when he entered their space, but they didn’t appear hostile. Then he quickly harnessed up his favorite and led him out of the pen. The tauntaun huffed out throaty breaths of hot air.
“Looks like there’s a side exit around the back here. If we go out that way we can avoid opening those blast doors.” Loki stepped on a data pad that chirped under his boot. He picked it up, looked it over curiously, and then stuffed it inside his coat. Maybe they could use it to figure out the language of this planet. “Don’t forget to grab yourself one of these helmets over here. Looks like they have face shields, too. Could be useful if we run into harsh winds.”
Loki led the tauntaun towards the exit and used its hind haunch to mount up. The tauntaun riled for a moment, head tugging against the bit in its mouth, but Loki tugged it to a halt like a horse. Then he glanced back at Mobius, expression lit up with an almost childlike enthusiasm. “This is going to be fun!”
Loki’s enthusiasm was catching. Mobius caught that wink and volleyed back, of course - because that’s what he did. “Don’t have to be a horse for me to ride you,” he pointed out and oop, oop, off they would go. Saddle and harness procured (didn’t look like there was much in the way of saddlebags, like a horse might have, maybe some helpful survival gear tucked away - but that was alright), Mobius also grabbed a helmet to really complete the ensemble. And because Loki was right - he didn’t want windburn to scrape his skin off, clean to the bone.
He was on the tauntaun, and they were outside - this creature looked sure-footed and would be good for trekking across the icy landscape. “Wonder how fast they can run,” Mobius mused, once they had been clip-clopping along for a little bit of time - he at least knew how to sit on the saddle so he didn’t awkwardly bounce, and how to steer the tauntaun with a clench of muscles and so forth.
The tauntaun he was riding was muscular too, with a long tail to sort of balance the awkward build - wasn’t like anything he’d seen before, that was for sure. “How’s your crooked horny one doing, honey?”
There was a communication system within the helmets which, with a little bit of magical assistance, allowed them to communicate once they were outside of the compound. It was still early enough in the day that the landscape was brightened by whatever ball of nearby gas in this galaxy constituted a sun. Not bright by any means. More like an effervescent gleam of light blue that reflected off the snow. It gave the impression that the ground sparkled in the distance. And thankfully, at least for the time being, the wind wasn’t as harsh as it had been last night when it battered against the side of Butler Hall.
The landscape was fiercely beautiful in its own way. Loki was loath to admit it, but there was something about all of the places Derleth took them to that had a rare kind of attractiveness. But this place had a majesty about it. On the surface it was cold and brutal, lacking in any form of creature comforts and barely survivable. But with the helmet on, the sound of the wind cut from a whistling howl down to an ambient drone. Rushing. Pervasive. But calm.
It reminded him a bit of himself.
“I’ve decided to call her Austri. Crooked Horny One makes her self-conscious,” Loki said, his tone light and even-keel despite the joke. He rode his tauntaun up alongside Mobius, careful to keep pace with him. There was no telling how quickly the weather could turn or how easily they might lose each other if they came upon a blizzard. “I saw Doctor Strange and Elsa head out in that direction yesterday. Perhaps our efforts would be better spent going another way?”
It was difficult to make light of which direction was north. Loki had tried to gauge that the previous day, but the sky had been too gray and the weather too unpredictable. And as far as other galaxies and planets went, anything was possible. He exhaled a sigh of relief every morning they were in a location that had a breathable atmosphere.
Small gratitudes toward their invisible captor.
When they reached a small snowdrift, Loki took a sharp left turn and headed off in a direction opposite of the one Strange and Elsa had taken. The further they went the less the rebel-built trenches stretched. And while there was still a lot of debris from the battle which had occurred, the region became more pristine. Loki was even able to make out some mountains in the distance. Although, to be fair, they might have been glaciers.
Austri the tauntaun grunted in defiance whenever Loki slowed down to take in the scenery.
“Not exactly what I’d hoped for, but just about every location has been a disappointment since Disney World. Pity you missed that one.” Loki glanced over at Mobius, wishing he could see his face for his reaction. “I’ve struggled considerably more since the dystopian world. I was prepared to make that place permanent. To make it my home. I know most everyone hated it. Seven weeks was a lot in a place with no hope and the constant threat of death. But for me it was stable. It was consistent. That’s something I need in order to…”
Not lose my mind.
“...move forward.”
It was kind of beautiful, even Mobius had to admit that. The glaciers in the distance, what he could make out, were the color of spilled milk and resembled giant icefalls frozen in time, cascading down what looked to be a rocky chute. Honestly, it wasn’t the landscape he had any problems with - or even having to extra bundle up against the threat of a dangerous cold. Instead it was the wind, which was bitter - not anything pleasant, no freshness gliding over the skin, but something that would razorblade your skin off. A constant slap or a sword just plunged into your heart, tearing it to pieces.
They had to be careful, that was for certain - well, mere humans like him needed to be careful. There were others who could withstand the cold a lot better. Apparently one of the Derlethians (was that the word?) was even familiar with this planet, which was helpful.
“Nice to meet you, Austri,” he said to Loki’s tauntaun. Mobius didn’t have a name for his own - maybe it would come to him or she would tell him what it was. You never knew. “And yeah, let’s head in another direction - there’s still a lot to explore.”
He could see the glowing ice pillars Elsa and Stephen had set up as landmarks - they were easy to ride away from, so he turned his noble steed in the opposite direction. “I figured you sort of felt that way,” he added, once they were on another course. “The stability will help so much, when we can grasp it - I think we’ll get there. It’s what I’m trying to achieve for us - for me and you, and everyone, but...yeah, I definitely want it for us.”
There was no shame in admitting that. He was here with Loki, not running through Timedoors to try to find him - but rather in the same world, after everything that had happened, and Mobius wanted to build something solid. “By the way, if we come across an abandoned ship or anything - stripping it for parts is going to be my suggestion,” he chuckled. Speaking of achievements, there was only so much he could do with the tech he had - considering this planet was on a whole other level entirely with that sort of thing, it’d be helpful to make use of what was around. And steal it.
There were other things that Loki was struggling with, but many of those things hadn’t become enough of an issue that he felt they needed to be discussed. He learned a long time ago how to put his problems—emotional ones in particular—on the back burner. If it wasn’t an issue in the immediate present then he could ignore it. Of course, the obvious problem with that was how quickly things began to pile up, but he usually had a method for dealing with that. Vengeance, frustration. If he got mad at his brother he could always invade New Mexico. If he wanted to get back at his father he could send an alien army to New York. But life in Derleth was much more contained. And while he sometimes wanted to simply storm out into the Green and scream until the ground cracked open, he knew that wouldn’t help him any. Because someone like Strange or Wanda or the Magicians would be on him so fast that the next thing he’d know he’d be waking up from a reset—and all of the relationships he’d built would be destroyed.
I definitely want it for us.
Mobius’s words repeated in Loki’s mind.
For us.
In another place the sentiment brought on by those two words might have caused a tear to trickle down his face. But it was too cold and too much of Loki’s focus was on maintaining control of his tauntaun.
“When I first arrived in Derleth, I thought the worst thing was having to relive my death every week. Knowing that nothing I did mattered because it would always end and restart the same way. But the longer I’m here, the more I’ve discovered that it’s the dispassionate routine I’ve fallen into which is the worst. For me, at least. I cannot speak for the others, of course. But I need a purpose.” Even one that wasn’t quite so glorious. “I need stability. I need my own space. I need to feel like there’s something that’s mine. Something I can build and nurture and remain consistent from one week to the next. And I want my own room, too.”
Loki nodded at Mobius’s plan for stripping a ship for parts and turned the tauntaun in the direction of some nearby wreckage. Although the tech looked advanced by Midgardian standards, a lot of it appeared clumsy and outdated.
“Perhaps we can pull out a navigational system. Let’s head over to that ridge. Some of that debris looks more intact. And as long as the weather stays clear I shouldn’t have any trouble creating portals to send the parts back to Derleth.” Which would hopefully save them some time on their excursion.
“Those are fair wants,” Mobius said. “More than fair, really. I wouldn’t want to speak for everyone else either, but - most of us seem to be the type that definitely need to be doing something. Choice and free will are both important, I see that now more than ever - and I’m starting to see what it does to people when the fight’s beaten out of them.” With each and every reset, it started to look that way - again, no blanket assumptions made, but he doubted anyone was content with what was going on. Who would be, if your life was just a series of unfortunate events on the same goddamn time loop?
There was no room for growth. No opportunities. No security. No need to try, to out effort into getting what you wanted. Maybe on a personal level, sure (because Mobius wanted what he had with Loki) - but mundane things like a house, a car, a white picket fence? You couldn’t try for those things, and it was disheartening.
Now that they had a plan for scavenging (and a fervent hope that the weather didn’t get much worse), Mobius picked up the pace a little - he guided the tauntaun over the ridge to where the rubble might prove to be useful. And he wasn’t going to be picky - he just wanted some new toys, so to speak. “Oh boy, it’s kinda like my birthday?” he quipped, dismounting off of the still-nameless tauntaun - it chuffed at him, as if it was proud of getting him here. He’d give her a carrot if he could - did tauntaun eat carrots? Who knew.
“Navigational system sounds good. I can work with it, along with my fellow techies.”
Once they reached the ridge, Loki dismounted the tauntaun and used the reins to tie it up to a large piece of debris that stuck up out of the snow like an antenna. He helped tie Mobius’s tauntaun up as well, giving Mobius the opportunity to begin the search.
It was a bit like throwing a rock in a minefield and hoping to hit safe ground. There was a lot of debris. Both from ships that looked as though they might have been able to breach the atmosphere at once time—not anymore—and from landlocked machines that Loki assumed were mechanized war machines, driven by human (or human-esque) controllers by the looks of the cockpits. But whether any of it was useful was another question entirely. A lot of it looked like junk.
“Don’t get your hopes up, birthday boy. This weather could either be a blessing or a curse when it comes to salvaging any technology.” Most of the wiring had probably short circuited from the cold and the dampness of the snow, but maybe if it was warmed up and dried off it could be useful. If nothing else, the sciencey-types could probably use the basics for something. And maybe Mobius’s plan of connecting it to technology from other worlds was the key to establishing some sort of permanence in Derleth.
Loki made his way over to the front of a collapsed AT-AT walker. Many of the rivets along the front glass panel had broken off in the fall. He grasped his gloved hands around the edge and tugged hard. It budged, but not enough. He took a deep breath, channeling his Jotunn strength through the cold and tried again. Slowly but surely the main visor began to break away, eventually snapping a wide enough hole for him to climb inside the cockpit.
“What do you want?” Loki asked through the intercom on their helmets as he situated himself into one of the pilot seats to see if there was anything salvageable from the controls. Yes, he had to shove a body aside to make space, but he didn’t think the pilot would mind. “If you could find a way to contain Derleth to a single location, where would you put it? And then what would you do? What’s in Mobius’s future? A dog? A yard? Working nine-to-five?”
He took off his gloves, grateful for his Frost Giant physiology to protect his fingers from frostbite, and began removing the panels from what he assumed to be the walker’s navigational system. It was a land-based vehicle, an intergalactic ship would be better, but maybe it could still be used for something. He wasn’t going to look a gift tauntaun in the mouth. And at least this way no one could accuse him of not helping.
This particular ship was massive - Mobius could only imagine what it was like when it was actually marching along on four legs. It looked like those legs had been tied with cables as a way to bring it down, thus proving some truth to the adage ‘big tree falls hard.’ Either way, Mobius was glad to get a chance to look around once Loki broke in.
“All of the above? A dog, a yard, a decent job that I wasn’t forced into. Maybe a cat, besides you,” his voice was teasing as he poked around - looked like a lot of blasters and cannons. Heavy artillery, basically, which made sense. “Looks like cockpit has a holoprojector - seems familiar,” he added as he handled it carefully with gloved hands; it looked intact, and maybe they wouldn’t be able to get it working exactly but stripping it for the smaller parts could come in handy, especially if they were going to continue to communicate across timelines.
Devising a phone (or something similar) might be better than using brain juice which he was still dubious about. Anything to reduce the risk there.
There also seemed to be a smaller engine, fusion drive, something that propelled the ship forward - he scavenged what he could from this, while Loki took apart the navigational system. Poking around with a dead body as their companion was also, uh, weird. ‘Needs must’ and all of that. Mobius couldn’t be too squicked out - he was made of stronger stuff than that, given the length of his existence. “I generally think that life is what you make of it, but - it’s hard to make something of it under these conditions.”
“Sounds boring. A little too domestic for me.” Were there some casual comforts of life that Loki would like to indulge in long term? Yes, of course. He wanted his own place. He wanted a purpose. Not a job, but a calling. He wanted his ‘kingdom’, so to speak. But if he had to live fulltime in the dimwitted bliss that he’d experienced during 1950s Derleth then he would go slowly insane. Or maybe quickly insane. Regardless, the house, yard, dog? Definitely not his thing. Unless the house was a palace, the yard a realm, and the dog, well, Loki had a fondness for wolves.
Once they began pulling apart more pieces than the cockpit could hold, Loki created a portal for them that went directly into one of the empty classrooms at Armitage Hall. A lot of the junk items he tossed through the portal rather willy-nilly. They could always go through it later and determine what was worth keeping and what wasn’t. He didn’t see the need to be too picky while they were out in the freezing cold. Better to look it over when they were back to the comforts of the campus. The important thing was getting the items to Derleth in the first place so they wouldn’t lose them in the reset.
He removed as many of the useful navigational parts as he could, tossing them into the portal. Then he helped Mobius disassemble the holoprojector.
After they’d successfully dismantled the main operational and circuit-based aspects of the AT-AT, they moved on to a smaller aircraft. It was a T-47 airspeeder, but all of the written components on the inside made no sense to Loki. That was odd. This planet must have been in a dimension so far away from Asgard that the Allspeak couldn’t translate it. Nevertheless, with a bit of magic he helped Mobius disassemble the engine, thrusters, and some of the navigational controls. Then he shoved it through the portal to Derleth.
A few hours later, it was back to the tauntauns and off into the wild. In search of other areas, perhaps with something more native to the planet.
And that’s when the storm hit.
It came out of nowhere, practically plunging the entire landscape into a bleak wall of penetrating white within seconds. Loki couldn’t see more than an inch in front of his visor. Even Austri felt an instinctual fear of the snow, grunting and tugging at the reins. The animals knew this was not the kind of weather you wanted to get stuck in.
“Mobius!” Loki called out through the helmet’s intercom. It had begun to get scratchy. “Can you still hear me? I’m going to try and create a portal to take us back to the base!”
He waved his hand in front of himself and—
What?
—nothing.
He tried again. Nothing.
“It’s not working!”
Of course they would get stuck in a snowstorm. Of course. Ice was not only kissing the air it was straight up punching it - and quite strongly at that. What had started as something they’d be able to kind of handle had turned into an act that felt like an entire sky dam had burst open, dangerous and deadly and everything stark white.
“I can hear you!” Mobius assured, because he was still alive and he didn’t want Loki to be worried about him having gotten swallowed by a blizzard (boring as he was - and, well, Mobius liked to think he was a good mix of adventure and rest. This was strangely exhilarating but he also was into the idea of thawing out by a fire, please). “I’m with you.”
Yes, he was - and while a portal back to the base may have been handy, he supposed he wasn’t surprised that the quirks of anything related to Derleth just wasn’t going to give them that; some weeks powers were off entirely, so it was really all based on whimsy. Or maybe Loki had used up a lot of his juice scavenging parts, who knew. Mobius didn’t have time to parse out the finer details.
Calm in the face of duress as usual, he continued onward. “We’ll just find someplace relatively safe and sheltered, since being out in this isn’t the best idea.” Even the tauntauns agreed with that notion.
Loki couldn’t explain why his portals suddenly weren’t working. Maybe it was Derleth. Maybe it was something whipped up by the snow on this planet. Maybe he had overexerted himself. Or, and probably most likely, maybe this planet was heightening his Jotunn powers so much that his Asgardian magic was beginning to wane. And perhaps, because Loki had never taken the time to hone his Frost Giant abilities, his balance was off. He’d been foolish not to consider that possibility earlier.
“Damn,” he cursed. There had to be another way to see through this storm. At least long enough to find shelter.
He tried to remember how long they’d been riding since he last saw one of those fallen spacecrafts. If they could get back to one maybe they could wade out the storm. And Loki could use his magic to seal off the inside from the cold.
Or he could attempt to magic them an igloo. But would he be able to keep it warm enough for Mobius to survive? That wasn’t a risk he wanted to take. Not unless he absolutely had to.
“Let’s turn back in the direction we came from,” Loki said, tugging on the reins to avert Austri’s attention behind them. “I’m going to try and create a beacon so you can follow me. And fingers crossed these creatures understand that we’re looking for shelter. I imagine they want to get out of this as much as we do.”
Loki focused his magic in front of him, trying to harness what he could from his Jotunn side. It took a moment, but eventually he managed a few sparks. And then, after he was more inspired by the promise of those sparks, he was able to create a bright blue glow that Mobius should have been able to see through the storm.
Then he kicked the tauntaun in the side with his heel and headed off into the snow.
A beacon indeed. The glow of the blue Mobius followed easily enough, since the azure was bright and resembled a cluster of little gemstones - it seemed like the tauntaun had a sixth sense about the journey too, despite the poor visibility. Eventually (before they could turn into the popsicle versions of themselves, RIP) they came upon something that looked promising - a cave.
An empty one. That was something Mobius was going to make certain of first, because the idea of hunkering down in the home of a couple of those hungry yeti-like creatures, feasting upon entrails, didn’t seem to be too appealing and wouldn’t help the goal of keeping them alive.
But it seemed to be safe, after some exploration of the immediate area - right there in the cave and further back; at the very least, Mobius could actually see now that a blizzard wasn’t the bad weather equivalent of a battering ram against his face and line of vision. The icicles glistened, hanging like curtains and looking as if they were cut from crystal - this was going to have to do.
“Home sweet home?” Mobius huffed, dismounting off the tauntaun (and wow, his muscles were clenched - he hadn’t realized he’d basically been a concrete slab on the trip over); his mount was tied and secured, and they were out of the storm now. Hopefully it would clear up soon.
Thank the Nine Realms for tauntaun intuition, without which they might have been roaming around in circles until they died.
Once they were deep enough within the cave not to be pummeled by the storm and the tauntauns were safely secured, Loki set about trying to make a temporary enclosure. An extra protective element against the rush of cold wind that periodically forced its way down the tunnel. It wasn’t much. A kind of barrier running from one side of the cave wall to the other; a magical force field. But the space was still frigid despite the fact that the ice and snow didn’t reach this far into the exterior.
“I’ll try to make a fire, but…” Loki removed his helmet and set it on the ground. Ever since his portals had stopped working, Loki wasn’t feeling entirely confident about his magic. He crouched down near the center of the cave, removed his gloves, and held out his hands in front of him. He was surprised to see that they were blue again. He didn’t think there would ever be a day when he wasn’t shocked to remember that he was born of Jotunheim. It was a truth he couldn’t avoid, but it didn’t feel real. Even now, after all this time, in his heart he felt Asgardian. That’s where his allegiance and his loyalty lay, despite all the conflict and the turmoil.
Deep breath. That’s not important. You can do this. Just focus. Exhale.
At first the magic around his hands turned blue, glowing a vibrant sapphire hue, stretching from his fingertips like icy tendrils. Jotunn magic thrived from the cold. But it also accentuated the cold. And that’s not what Loki wanted. Loki wanted warmth. He needed it. Not for himself, but for Mobius. And for those poor creatures who brought them this far.
He clenched his fists and reached deep within to find the core of that magic his mother had taught him. The blue glow wavered, faltered. Then it burst into bright green. And moments later a fire appeared. Not a normal fire, but a free floating emerald flame. Not real, per se. But it did exude heat.
Loki sat back on his heels and sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. Then he looked up at Mobius with a proud smile. “Home sweet home.”
It wasn’t sinking into the comfort of a hot bath (boy, what he wouldn’t give for that) but it was something - it was sweet, blessed heat and Mobius thought it felt like warm butter melting on his face. He’d taken his own helmet off, shaking out his hair though didn’t even bother to fix the mess, and then settled next to Loki by the fire - which was so very green, that same emerald shade he always associated with Loki and his magic.
“You did good,” he praised and, honestly, good felt like an understatement. “I swear I’ll be useful for something one of these days.”
He still had his gloves on, but he reached over and touched Loki’s shoulder - using him as an anchor so Mobius could lean in with full intention of bestowing the sweetest of air kisses on him, just in case his skin was too chilly for warmer, human lips to come into contact with. No need to use magic to make him more comfortable either - Loki had already done a lot. “Thanks for the adventure, by the way - always glad to go on those with you,” he grinned.
Oh yeah. Whether it was Pompeii, the looming mass that was Vesuvius holding up the sky itself, or a failed date with singing townsfolk - Mobius was always glad.
“You are useful. You’re incredibly useful.” Loki scooted closer to Mobius until they were practically attached at the hip. “You’re amazing, really. I mean … for a Midgardian. Assuming that’s what you are, of course. What you’ve already managed to learn since being here. What you’ve already made me f—”
Loki cut himself off. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to talk about that. He wasn’t sure if he could. He was still trying to decipher the changes he’d been experiencing lately. He felt like he was on the precipice of something. What that something was he didn’t know. But he hoped it might be a step in the direction his mother had encouraged him to open himself up to.
The direction that would eventually lead him to Valhalla.
Mobius leaned forward and … kissed the air. Loki blinked, confused. Then he noticed the thin layer of ice on Mobius’s clothing. The fire wasn’t enough.
Loki brought a hand to Mobius’s cheek. Normally Loki was a few degrees cooler than the average person. But in this environment he was the opposite. His Frost Giant anatomy naturally adjusted itself to the cold, keeping him warm despite the elements. And it was some of that warmth he allowed to pass through his palm and into Mobius. Then he bridged that short distance between them and kissed him. A kiss that brought another layer of warmth to them both. “Well, don’t thank me yet. The adventure isn’t over, after all.”
Mobius felt a little silly, yes (he just hadn’t been sure if he would be risking frostbite, it seemed plausible!) - but then again, Loki kissed him and that feeling drifted away. He was focused on just Loki then, and the warmth that thawed any remaining ice, figurative chunks floating off into the deep. He kissed in return, fingers clinging to the collar of Loki’s coat - and Mobius felt like he could practically fall into him, he kissed him so soundly.
The cave was made of ice - probably was a large area of meltwater off of a glacier, with the mouth sort of reminding him of an archway of an ancient city - but right now, that didn’t seem to matter. Because Mobius could probably begin dissolving the entire space just by the way his temperature was skyrocketing, how close he was to Loki, and how all of that praise about his usefulness made him feel.
“You’re sweet,” he grinned against Loki’s mouth, nipping a little at his lower lip. Just a bit of that before he went for another kiss, a harsh breath through his nose - and he didn’t want to separate. He just wanted to keep at this, lips skimming along the edge of Loki’s jawline and down to any exposed skin of his throat, sucking at his pulse point - if he could leave a bruise, he would. Just to claim.
“I’m not though. You know I’m not. I don’t tell the truth out of sweetness. I tell it because I want something.” Loki had often been accused of not knowing himself well, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Loki knew himself too well. And that was part of the problem. And because he’d spent so many years failing to tell the truth, he was doubly aware of how pointed his truths were. And how deeply tied they were to his manipulative side. When Loki told the truth it was because it benefitted him in some way.
Like now. Suddenly adorned in Mobius’s affections. Which was not to say that telling Mobius he was useful was evil or cruel. It wasn’t. It was a compliment. And it was a kindness. But sweet? No, because Loki knew that saying those things would get him exactly what he wanted. This kind of attention. An attention he didn’t know he’d been craving for so long.
He wrapped his arms around Mobius and held him tight during that kiss. He enjoyed the sensation of teeth against his lip, sending an anticipatory shiver straight down his abdomen. And when Mobius moved to his jaw and neck, Loki loosened his grip and allowed his head to lull backwards. Giving Mobius reach of whatever he wanted.
Take it all, he wanted to say.
An unconscious moan fell from his lips when Mobius sucked at his neck. And he felt a swell of heat between his legs. “I could take this all off, you know. I don’t need it. You’d have to keep yours on. Just to be safe. But if you’re up for the challenge…”
Loki slowly tugged down the zipper on the front of his coat, revealing the bottom of his neck and then his collar bone, slowly stopping just above the sternum. Blue and lined in those tell-tale Jotunn ridges which created an intricate design across his skin. A pattern unique to him.
“...we could probably find a creative solution to combat the cold.”
"Well, now it's burning up," he murmured cheekily, sounding worn out. Hell, he was worn out, but in the best way possible. "Come here, elskan mín?" They could cuddle for warmth now.
Elskan mín. That phrase itself caused him to shiver more than the cold. Those words stabbed swift and deep. No one spoke like that to Loki. Not of their own free will. Not without his manipulative hand involved.
No one.
Except this strange man who’d been chasing him his entire life. And without Loki knowing it.
Loki kissed Mobius on the chin. The jaw. The corner of his lips.
“One day I will give you a room in my palace,” he whispered against Mobius’s lips. “A room worthy of a prince. With all the decadence and finery befitting one. No stuffy cubicles and chasing timelines. No variants. Just sheets of satin, gold-inlaid tapestries, and a balcony overlooking the Bifrost.”
Mobius shuddered because all those feel-good sensations and aftershocks were still rippling through him - he shuddered pleasantly as Loki made his way into his arms, and Mobius gladly welcomed him. Blue skin and garnet eyes and all, while Mobius remembered how to even bring air into his lungs. It was quite a feat. Fingers dove into Loki’s dark hair then too, no real direction - just kind of stroking, caressing idly. He was in no hurry, and in no mood to move.
“That sounds beautiful,” he said in between slower kisses he bestowed on Loki in turn, watching himi through pleased half-moon eyes that were still sort of wild as a storm - but he was calming down, his heart rate ceasing with those rapid pistons that had hammered against his ribcage and his nerves doing less of a jangle beneath his skin. “I’ve had enough of stuffy cubicles, that’s for sure. Chasing timelines too, but - I guess there’s still some work to be done with that here.”
And he was going to keep trying. Mobius was far too stubborn to give up and give in, especially if it meant he could keep this, and maybe add a palace to the deal as well. Someday.
“One day Derleth is going to take us to some place I won’t be able to leave. Somewhere like Asgard. And leaving that will kill me. So we have to find a way to remain in that place before we get there. Then it can be ours forever.” It was crazy. Loki knew how it sounded. It was impossible. But him being alive was also impossible. And yet everyone insisted that he was.
So, perhaps there was hope. Hope of a future where they could stop the reset and put down roots in a realm where they could find fulfillment and pleasure and everything they’d been missing in their previous lives.
“Every morning you’ll open the floor-to-ceiling windows, the crisp air from the fjords filling your room. You’ll have breakfast overlooking the simmering waters that run beneath the bridge, reflecting a rainbow gleam under a cloudless sky. Fresh bread. Fruit plucked directly from the trees in the garden.” Loki traced his finger along Mobius’s jaw. “You’ll wear the finest of fabrics. Tailor fit, of course. Robes of blue, I think. Maybe a dash of orange around the collar. No more of that stale brown. You can spend your day doing whatever you want. Scholarly pursuits. Hike up the mountain ridges.”
A kiss to the lips. Once. Twice. The third lingering longer. “And in the evenings I’ll taste every inch of you. And we’ll have each other so violently that they’ll hear our moans across the realms.”
Loki began to get just thinking about it. And he pressed himself against Mobius to prolong that stiffening ache between his legs. “I’ll make it so you can’t remember any other Loki before me.”
“...hvatvetna,” Mobius insisted breathlessly, kissing Loki and lingering just as much - molten heat of a very demanding mouth. “Hvatvetna, ást mín.” Anything, everything and he meant it - he’d find a way to ensure they stayed in a place like that, because it sounded perfect. So perfect it caused his lashes to prickle with tears, but they were happy ones and filled with longing. Because Mobius wanted it so badly.
He’d always been curious about Asgard - and he loved the idea of being out there where everything was so fresh and crisp, where the main aroma that wafted under his nose was the stillness before the dawn, the breath of the sleeping greenery. Bitter cold probably wasn’t much of a thing there on Asgard - maybe up in the mountains, but nothing like this.
And gods, he was tired - but Loki pressing against him couldn’t be ignored or denied, and it made Mobius cradle Loki’s face in his hands to kiss him fiercely, passionately enough to turn Mobius into a burning star. “So beautiful,” the words were barely a murmur and he’d said them before - but it was something that deserved repeating, as he stroked down Loki’s back, and Mobius curled a leg over his hip as if to fuse them together even more.
Loki smiled against the side of Mobius’s face. Hearing the old language spoken filled him with sentimental memories. Nostalgia wasn’t usually good for Loki. It could drag him down into a rut. But this was a good memory. The sound of his childhood. Before the lies became the basis for all of his relationships. Before the bad memories started. Before the spite set in.
He adjusted his position so it would be more comfortable for Mobius. Outside he could still hear the wind howling, but even if he couldn’t he would know that the storm was still blowing. The longer he was out in the cold the more his senses became attuned to it. He raised a hand and tried to create a portal. A bluish-green glow emanated from his palm but the portal didn’t appear. He pursed his lips and focused harder. For a split second there were a few sparks and then it fizzled out. He was still missing that balance between his two forms of magic. They were fighting each other for dominance. He’d have to wait for the storm to calm down. Then maybe he’d manage to find a place of peace with his Frost Giant abilities.
So beautiful. Those words caused Loki’s breath to catch in his throat. His mind struggled to accept it. Like telling someone from ancient times that the world was round. Loki knew it was true. He knew he was beautiful. Well, at least his Asgardian glamour was beautiful. But to hear someone else say the words. And to hear it being said while he was in the skin he felt the least amount of confidence in—that was always hard. But there was one thing he said as fairly confident in. His belief that Mobius wasn’t a liar. Biased? Yes. But not a liar.
The two tauntauns grunted.
“Rest if you need to,” Loki said. “I’ll keep the fire going. And I’ll let you know when the weather turns.”
He paused. There was something else he thought about adding. An affection. A word from his past that he’d been saving for someone. But he didn’t say it. Not yet.