Loren Olson ❆ Loki Laufeyson (trickstering) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2017-08-30 01:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | loren olson, troy olson |
Who: Loren and Troy Olson
What: The last thing Loren ever wanted—his stepbrother coming to find him.
Where: Loren's apartment in Los Angeles, CA
When: Tuesday, 8/29/17; evening.
Warnings: Language, general Loki-ness, everything else TBD
There were far too many humbling things in Loren's life and coming home to a small apartment that hadn't really been worth living in when it had been built back before he was even born was one of the most humbling. Loren had never quite decided if it was better or worse than the fact that he was wearing an incredibly tacky work uniform that he hadn't quite found the energy to strip off yet. Neither of those was quite as bad as the fact that there were no messages on his phone, no word back from anything he'd auditioned for. Loren's life was at a standstill and there was part of him that was tempted to go try to take over the world just for something different to do. Who knew? Maybe he'd have a little more success with that than he seemed to be having with any other part of his life at the moment. No, he didn't think that was being too dramatic in the least. Benevolent tyrant was clearly a perfect backup career for acting.
The couch that he'd rescued from the curb on wasn't nearly good enough to showcase his elegant sprawl but he'd positioned himself on it anyway. Not that there was anyone there to appreciate a good pose; at least Loren had escaped the torture of having a roommate by virtue of both choosing a place where no one else would willingly live and also by being willing to trick his landlord into thinking that he was getting the full payment for the place when he was, in fact, not. It wasn't a deception that could last forever by any means. Someone would look at the books eventually and figure out that Loren hadn't been paying his rent in full and then it would be out onto the street for him. Unless, of course, he managed to land the kind of role that would move him up in the world and into the kind of apartment that he wouldn't mind other people actually seeing.
With a sigh, Loren let himself sink further into the couch. He'd never quite managed to get the musty smell out of it after he'd brought it inside, no matter how many rounds of Febreeze he went with it. Instead he'd learned to live with it; he didn't really have much of a choice considering that it happened to be doubling as his bed. He pressed his head into the armrest and dragged a hand through his hair. The curls had been plastered to his forehead already thanks to the evening rush, and the strands felt greasy between his fingers. He needed a shower and a thorough shampooing. As soon as he found the motivation to get up off of the couch he would go do that and maybe look around for any roles that he hadn't auditioned for yet before he passed out for the night and rested up for a day of doing the whole thing all over again. The glamorous life of an aspiring actor in a city full of aspiring actors, even one that happened to be playing host to a god.
Really, he could look at that whole benevolent tyrant thing as the ultimate role. Loren had always played the villain in every last production he'd been cast in. He was very good at it; really, it should have been an indication that he had a bright future ahead of him as the reincarnate of a comic book villain. Who also happened to be the god of mischief. It was all very complicated and Loren chose not to think about much beyond the fact that he did in fact enjoy having access to all of the tricks that Loki knew. They hadn't managed to use them to land a role yet but at least part of that was because Loren still had some pride. He was an excellent actor and he would get his big break at least partially thanks to his own skill and not the tricks that he was pulling to get everyone else out of the way.
Need for a shower be damned, Loren was starting to drift off a little when he heard the knock on the door. He was at least far enough into sleep that he thought that it was a dream at first, or a memory. There was something about the knock that was familiar, insofar as a knock could be familiar to anyone. Like he'd heard that knock before... which was ridiculous. No one had come to his apartment. It was probably someone who'd stumbled to the wrong door and Loren could either ignore them... or fuck with them a little. He was almost contractually obligated to make it the latter, honestly.
Loren peeled himself off the couch and took a glance around the room. There wasn't much that he could do to the apartment itself and it wasn't as if he actually needed to impress whoever was on the other side of the door anyway. He did hate to be seen at less than his best though. A wave of his hand cloaked the room, and himself, in illusions. His small and barren studio looked neatly put together and richly decorated; his roadside couch appeared to be soft green velvet. As for himself? Loren erased the dark circles under his eyes and the sweat and grease from his skin and hair. The work uniform was replaced by an illusionary replica of an outfit he'd seen in a store's front window. No need to worry about actually being fit to entertain guests when you could use what they saw to convince them that the rest of their senses were wrong.
It only took a few steps to get to the door, and a flick of his wrist to open it. What he saw on the other side made him clench his teeth. "I don't want any." He applied as much force as he could to the fake wood of the door in an effort to get the most satisfying slam possible.