Samirah al-Abbas (daughterofloki) wrote in the100, @ 2015-12-30 18:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, loki laufeyson (616), samirah al-abbas |
WHO: Samirah al-Abbas and Loki
WHEN: December 30, 2015
WHERE: Random corridor
WHAT: Daughter and kinda sorta father meet for the first time. Word dancing happens.
WARNINGS: None! I mean, maybe kinda sorta spoilers for Magnus Chase.
STATUS: Complete!
Samirah didn’t like this place. Not one bit. The discontent had nothing to do really with the setting or the people or anything like that. She’d been worse places, met worse people, usually had a more hectic on the run introduction to both. No, all things considered, this place wasn’t too bad to be stuck in. That last part was what worried. Stuck. Trapped. Isolated. She just went from having an all access pass to the Nine Realms again to… nothing…
… and alone. While her Valkyrie duties weren’t really a full on yay team activity, they were still a sisterhood. They had each others’ backs. Well… in theory… Regardless, they were a presence missing, although not as much a nerve jangling absence as the lack of her ‘family of empty cups’ as it’d been so lovingly named. Only in existence for a week, but it was amazing what facing multiple life-or-death trials and stopping the end of the world could do for making three strangers such an important part of your life. Ok, well, four strangers. She couldn’t forget Jack considering how much trouble that had already caused in history.
Not that it mattered when none of them were here. Odin had said that more missions were on the way, but even for his round about ways, he at least gave some direction. Maybe not an explanation, but at least a ‘do the thing’ order. Just dropping her in Hostel Valhalla Lite wouldn’t be his style. Even if she was understanding Magnus’ attitude better. At least Hotel Valhalla was full of perks. Personal private rooms with personal private baths and personal private living rooms with everything you could ever want. Impressive dining hall with a beast who could provide you with any food you wanted. A brutal, but still extensive activities schedule. Not drab shared room with shared bathroom, mess hall that made her school’s cafeteria looks good, and jobs. At least the job wasn’t so bad.
Boy, this would be a hard place to sell to the einherjar as their home until Ragnorak. But if there was one thing she’d learned from her years as a Valkyrie working at Hotel Valhalla and especially over the past week with Magnus, it was that there was always a way out. Some loophole. Some crack or weak spot that no one had noticed for whatever reason.
She just had to find it.
Back to dull routines, Loki mused, as he twirled his scepter around absent-mindedly. Bloody Mary had been secured, Christmas had come and gone -- and with it went the full moon. That meant everything was quieter around Mount Weather, and that wasn’t necessarily a great thing when you were a fully-fledged god with enough power crackling inside that the wrong outlet would surely make a lot of people upset.
He sighed. Behaving wasn’t easy. Pacing the hallways only vaguely helped, in that same way that tapping your feet expended just a bit of energy to chip away at a larger restlessness.
Might as well check in with the mess hall. If any action was going down, it was surely there. He banked a right turn, knowing the shortest route to get there by rote, and looked up upon hearing footfalls advancing. There was a tilt of his head. She was new. He kept walking, the gap buttoning up with each step forward, but his eyes were locked on the young girl. One brow lifted slightly. Something was sparking in the air. He could feel something as the distance closed even more. Huh.
Years of fighting monsters and even more of dodging bullies had honed Sam’s ‘something’s up’ sixth sense. Wouldn’t be a day ending in Y if someone wasn’t staring or following you when you didn’t want it. The hallway really didn’t cater to her usual methods for dealing with the ‘paranoia’ though. No easy place to duck behind or sneak into to turn the tables and become the follower. Or to pull her favorite ‘no one ever looks up’ game plan of hiding in plain sight. Ah well, she’d just have to go with subtlety as ignoring whatever was sending pinpricks up along her neck in this new place seemed like a very bad idea.
She made a show of adjusting her hijab, pushing strands of hair under and tugging at the fabric giving her a chance to absently look around. She paused mid-movement though as she spotted the man coming down the hallway who… ok, so maybe subtlety should be tossed out considering the man didn’t seem to be playing that game… Her brow furrowed. The dark haired man felt familiar, but she didn’t recognize him at all, even if his tattered outfit and the scepter nudged at some memory. She wasn’t sure what that memory was, but there was something there…
Her mind kept circling, trying to figure out where the familiarity came from, as her chin inclined and her eyebrow raised as well in a silent challenge.
That small defiance only prompted a toothy grin in reply, but the wordless conversation kept as just that. They were mere steps away, and Loki had twirled his scepter upwards to clear her path, nestling it against one armored shoulder. There was a jaunty sort of bow given as he walked past.
Then there were four more steps, and a quick turnabout. He couldn’t help it; there was something about this young lady that suggested that the best thing to do was to poke at whatever that proud exterior was hiding.
The smile and bow were disarming, not because of the actions themselves, but again because of their familiarity. Again. But this time it was mix. That same vague familiar feeling that came with the outfit, but also a more personal itching at the back of her mind. Her eyes tracked him, sizing him up as well as taking note of the scepter’s position, ready to counter if the motions turned from flourish to threat.
As he passed and strode off, she was edging towards shrugging it off. Shove it into the ‘weird’ category and let it settle down there. Except then he turned and she couldn’t help the downward turn of her lips. Oh Odin’s eyepatch, he was enjoying this… A quick eye roll before she crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes?”
The scepter was rolled over his shoulders and anchored on either end by his arms, which he’d draped around it. It glowed and ebbed as it usually did, but a sidelong glance at it revealed that it was doing a more enthused version of it now. And that definitely wasn’t his doing.
Loki returned his gaze to the woman, and (since she’d asked), decided that conversation worked just as well. “You’re new,” he started. He took one step closer, then stopped. “Yes, obvious statement is obvious --” He loosened one arm from his scepter and waved the hand freely. “-- but I like to begin things with what I know before I ask for those I do not. Relax. I’m not contagious.”
Her eyes flicked between the glowing scepter (again, familiar, if not quite right with whatever image sitting just out of reach in her mind) and the man’s face. The impulse to step back, keep the distance between them the same, flared, but Sam pushed it down. Instead, her hands drifted down to her hips. Easy, normal gesture of challenge and not taking anyone’s sass. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to look too closely at. But also letting her fingers rest along the stop of her axe. Just in case considering that scepter made her nervous and just screamed magic. At least not literally. Thankfully not literally.
Note to self: talk to Blitzen about a better concealed weapon. Nobody really cared if you fidgeted with a necklace as opposed to fondling an axe.
The corner of her mouth twitched upward for a second. “Who says I’m not?” she pointed out. “Being so obviously new and all.”
An axe? An axe. Well, how about that. Loki took another step closer, and if anyone was keen on math, that would have placed him just two away from his mysterious new friend. His grin was unshakeable, possibly even frustrating in just how unwavering it was.
“I think if you were, our hospitable medical staff would have sent out the reinforcements. Also, of all the things in the world to convince a total stranger, ‘I’m contagious’ isn’t really what most people start with. I’d start with, ‘I have a battle axe, don’t cross me.’ Perhaps go from there, based on the reaction.” Loki nodded to where her hand was sitting, ready to pull that weapon out at the smallest suggestion of threat. “My brother has one of those. Very flashy.”
Sam narrowed her eyes. Yes, that smile.... Familiar and not. Just at the edges of her mind. Each step forward too brought details into focus and she’d definitely seen that coat before. No fur collar. Not so tattered. But she’d seen it. Somewhere.
“There are other ways to be contagious,” she pointed out. She’d been accused of enough of them. Words. Ideas. Faith. Her chin jutted out as she took a step forward. “Interesting advice from ‘relax, I’m not contagious’, but no explanation about-” She gestured at the scepter. “Besides, the axe speaks for itself.” Again, not literally. “Or does your brother work differently?”
“A point not too many would make,” Loki replied, entirely forgetting how bored he’d been just moments ago. “But, aye, there are other things that can catch. And without expounding on that… this?” He waved his scepter a bit, giving it a momentary scowl. “Harmless, really. More or less because I don’t intend to use it right this moment. My brother tends to be a little more forceful in his approach, but I wouldn’t begrudge him that.”
There was a short pause. Then: “So, what sort of magic is it you do?”
While her eyes stayed focused on the scepter, Sam’s expression settled into a mix of disbelieving and unimpressed. A non-answer (not that either of them had been good at real answers anyways). No information on what it did. Only the fact that it could do harm and damage if he wanted it to. What criteria would flip the switch from friendly to non-friendly was also unknown. Too many question marks for her liking, especially with a mysterious flashy, axe-wielding brother possibly lurking around.
The question caught her completely off-guard. Her entire body tensed up so quickly that she jumped. Her eyes went wide. She stood there a few moments, a deer in the headlights, before her cheeks flushed in irritation at both the man and herself. Her eyes narrowed and she scowled. “Well, that’s assuming. And rude.”
Loki hummed thoughtfully, although he gave a short shrug. “Not really, is it? Well, rude, yes. I just happen to be the type of individual that generally gets away with that one.” He gave her a winning smile for her troubles.
“Look,” he started again, gesturing to the pulsating light within his scepter. “Do you see this? It does this when I do magic. Now, I’m not presently doing any, but I am standing mere inches away from you. It likes you. Perhaps I made a few leaps in logic, but don’t tell me you haven’t any magic. Lies are my trade. They’re hard to turn back on me.”
“With a smile like that, it’s so hard to believe,” Sam retorted in a deadpan voice, even as her gaze trained warily back to the scepter. The concept wasn’t new. Weapons and objects that reacted to certain people. Certain presences. Certain powers. It was feasible, even if she didn’t like the thought of it.
But considering his last words, it was also awfully convenient… Lies are my trade. Warning bells jangled in her head as her brow pinched together and she studied the man intently again. “If lies are your trade, how do I know that’s not just some LED light and a line you use on all the newbies? Are you going to try and sell me passes to the pool on the roof next?”
At that, Loki let out an unbridled snort of laughter. He set the end of his scepter down and leaned against it with both hands, neck craning slightly as he looked more carefully into her face.
The smile at the end of that laugh was all too knowing. “I think you know the answer to that, but wow. The world has not given you any views through rose-tinted lenses.” He pushed back up to full height, and with a small wrist flick, conjured a small flame in one open palm. His fingers coiled in on it, and a few sparks flew outside his grasp, but when he reopened his hand, the fire had gone and there wasn’t even a burn mark. “Let’s make this easier, then. You’re new, but I’ve been here for weeks on end. I assist the Chancellor’s lead woman, which means your business will sooner or later be my business.”
He extended the hand to shake, although it was more a gesture for her to inspect it more closely, if she was holding onto that skepticism. “My name is Loki.”
There were retorts. A bunch of them all lined up and ready to spill considering how her short life had been so far. All snark and sass of course, she wasn’t really one for sob stories.
As soon as the name left his lips though, her brain short circuited. Just a second before everything clicked. Of course he looked familiar. She’d seen the picture enough plastered on classmates’ lockers, up on movie posters, and of course all over tumblr. Even tumblr savior couldn’t save her from it. The outfit was more fur-lined and battered, barefeet instead of boots, and a one-horned tiara instead of that monstrosity of a helmet, but it was definitely a riff on the theme. Even the face had those movie elements. The green eyes, the black hair, just younger and, like the rest of his appearance, more mussed and less slicked back and put together. And the smile… Everything else about him looked different and even if the smile wasn't trying to shine through the ruined mess of ‘piercings’ that marred her father’s lips, the aura was him. When her father showed up to check on her, full of humor and charm, trying to maybe sweet talk himself into winning her favor and finally breaking her unbeaten streak of ignoring him.
And here all he had to do was change his face…
She blew out an exasperated groan as she looked up at the ceiling. Allah was testing her. Odin too probably. “This isn’t happening,” she muttered before she rubbed her fingers in a soothing circle against her temple. “Ok.” A long, drawn out sigh. “Ok… I’ll play along for now. Which Loki are you?”
“No, no,” Loki corrected her, a single finger drawn upward to gesture her to stop. “Playing along means you give me something in return, now. I’ve told you my name and my role here. My open admission ends. I’m not actually about to give everything away without even knowing your name.”
He leaned in, just a bit more. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Bear in mind that I can call it up within seconds. I have access to the list of all new arrivals and all details hitherto contained. Wouldn’t you rather be amicable about it instead?”
The unimpressed look was back, mixed with just a bit of maybe boredom for show. Sam’s mind whirled though. He didn’t know her. Which, if the intake staff was telling the truth, could be very well and true as he didn’t look like the Loki she was familiar with. Either of them.
Or he was just playing another game… although what the ending purpose could be, she didn’t know.
“Oh no. Not the mountain’s census,” she drawled. “What will I ever do.” Threatwise, it was pretty weak. Who knew how many other people had come in recently and how long it’d take to go through the paperwork. Or if they actually had photos attached right there and then. The temptation was real. To let him try and charm his way through whatever intake list he had access too. See what actually was on there and if it was enough for him to make an educated guess other than ‘oh hey, that name looks ‘ethnic’’.
But then she wouldn’t get to judge his reaction either. “Samirah al-Abbas. Scout. And it’s a fair question. I hear Loki is pretty common name-wise among the Jotunn.”
“See? Wasn’t that far more satisfying, Samirah?” Loki straightened up, the grin reassumed on his face. He gave a half glance over his shoulder to see if anyone was coming. Noting that Mount Weather was affording them some more time alone, he turned back to her. “It’s so much easier to converse when both parties actually engage! Sarcastically or not…”
But all Loki offered to that final piece was a shrug. “I’ve never heard that. Is someone saying that? Gossip, tch.” He tapped a finger to his lips, as if thinking for a second more. “Well, I’m the only Loki here. So, in a manner of speaking, that is the Loki I am. For now, at least.”
“Meandering or not,” Sam shot back. “Satisfying and easier are both still open for debate.”
She wasn’t sure what sort of reaction she’d expect, but this wasn’t fully it. Yes, every moment and word were still very Loki, but the lack of recognition was… odd. She wasn’t sure whether it hurt or was a relief. She blew out a sigh as she waved a hand dismissively. “Utgard-Loki. Never likes that he’s not the popular one. Could be his table manners.” And why did she say that? Now she really wanted some falafel and there was no way they’d have it here, let alone have it here and it be good, considering… She side-eyed Loki. He still hadn’t answered the which. Just that he was the only one here (thank Odin) and…
“End of the world and you’re still here. No one saw that coming.”
“Yes, well, who really likes Frost Giants?” Loki side-eyed Samirah back, but, as he was wont to do, threw in a wink when he caught her attention. “Aside from that they’re typically rough to look at. Still, we all do our best with what we have.” He swept an arm to gesture something a little more expansive than just the immediate stretch of hall. “Occasionally that means an underground hidey hole in a part of what used to be Virginia. Specifically, a part of Virginia that no one ever really cared about because there is nothing for miles. You won’t believe me, I’m sure, but you can always check yourself once the snow lets up.”
He tilted his head. “If the snow ever lets up. And you appear to be making a few mistakes in assumptions. The world isn’t over. This world isn’t over. And it certainly isn’t mine.”
Sam made a face. “Oh, no. Don’t do that. The wink with those words. Just no.” She gave a shudder before shaking her head and looking down the hall, as if that would actually let her look outside in some way. No dice of course, it was worse than having to navigate Downtown Crossing. “I’ll check it out anyways. Snow or no. A little snow never bothered me.”
She couldn’t help the smug quirk to her lips. Options narrowed down at least. A partial answer. “They mentioned some nuclear war. You never know how Ragnorak will look to the general masses after all.”
Mental tally: she knew plenty about Jotunheim, her as-yet-unadmitted magic sparked a familiarity, and now she was pulling faces all between intermittent exasperation and sarcasm. And snow didn’t bother her. There was one plausible answer to that, but Loki pocketed it and kept on.
“Yes, war tends to end a lot things, but doesn’t ever really end itself. You’ll probably have already heard to be wary of Grounders. There’s something vaguely approaching war with them, but everyone is playing nice for now. You’d think people aren’t happy unless there’s conflict. Now, don’t get me wrong -- it’s the spice of life and all that nature of thing, but I think history is a little too enthused on the pyrotechnics,” Loki rattled off with a casual grace, only stopping to absently poke a finger into the empty gap in his mouth where a tooth used to be. His other hand flipped out his phone, which he gave some consideration before tapping a few things on the screen with a nimble thumb. He looked up at Samirah for a second, hummed quietly, then prodded a few more things on the screen.
Sam’s eyebrow just raised higher and higher. Strange. Very strange. Conflict is the spice of life, yeah, that was familiar. Too enthused on pyrotechnics… well… despite the tired joke, no one really described Loki as low-key. Especially when it came to big, flashy conflict dramatics. Yes, there was some subtlety, but in the end, it was still for the sake of good showmanship that could be applauded and admired.
Like whatever he was attempting now.... The frown was short lived, just a flicker before she pushed it back. Nope. Don’t fall for his game. Don’t fall for his game… “Checking up on my credentials, Mr. Assistant to the Chancellor’s lead woman?”
“Hm? Oh, no. Something else,” Loki replied, once more navigating through a few screens before he dimmed the phone. “It is, however, storytime in childcare, and I’m never late for it.” There was another sharp grin given, though he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.
“Two lefts, third door on the right, by the way.”
Storytime in childcare. Storytime in childcare. There were people here who actually trusted him with their children. What even was this world? Sam wasn’t even sure if her own mother would’ve trusted Loki alone with her, let alone a group of children. Did the people here even realize how dangerous a story from Loki could be?
Her brain still spinning from just that thought, she blinked in confusion. Two lefts, third door… Frowning, her brows furrowed as she looked down the hall where he gestured. Two lefts, third door on… The frown deepened into a scowl. She didn’t know her entire way around the complex, but she knew enough to guess what he was getting at. Sonuva… Another heavy groan as she threw her hands up in aggravation. Ugh. Gods.
“Don’t put them asleep,” she muttered before striding down the hallway and making a point of going right instead.