WHO Loki & Open/Narrative •
WHERE Near the Asgardian Palace •
WHEN Beginning of May
Loki tries something new and perhaps realises just how much he's been holding out on himself all of these years.
WARNINGS TBA? None really in the starter!
Loki couldn’t help but think that he’d started to grow somewhat complacent during his time in Vallo. He had settled, for lack of a better word - he was safe, he could keep his own safe, but his mind couldn’t help but flickering back to the older Loki that they’d met, who had sacrificed his life. A Loki he could have become, if things had gone so differently that he’d exiled himself to a barren wasteland of a planet and been left with only his own illusions for company - and while this was far from a barren wasteland, Loki wanted to know. He wanted to know how far he could stretch himself before he snapped like a string pulled to its limit - if there even was a limit.
The palace was quiet following the ball and the cleanup, leaving Loki ample room to practice. There was no starting small for Loki, no quick tests or proof-of-concepts - this was all or nothing, as it was. He had made sure to strengthen the wards around New Asgard before leaving that morning as a just in case measure - if this took all of the magic he had, it could put New Asgard at risk. Perhaps. Or perhaps Loki was just overly paranoid after everything he’d been through both at the Time Agency and in the other dimension where Thanos crushed his spine with a single hand- and, that was not a thought path that he wanted to go down today.
He stood in front of the Asgardian palace, determination settling in his features as he turned to face behind him, his fingertips tingling as a green glow surrounded his hands. Buildings raised in a bright green shimmer, the mirror copy of the Asgardian Palace rising up from the ground to face its sibling, an exact mirror image of what was in front of him. A copy, yes, but also something that he knew some version of him could do. Proof of concept, perhaps.
He wasn’t even breaking a sweat, yet.
Buildings rose up around it - his home, for lack of a better word. The only childhood home he’d ever had. Visions of people, walking about, tending to their daily lives. Faceless in that Loki was straining himself now, maintaining the city and the people and the Bifrost stretching out into the distance, fading off where he wasn’t actively trying to hold it up.
‘I think we’re more powerful than we realise’, he’d said. If only he’d known how much more.