Loki | MCU (subtletrick) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2013-11-19 18:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | jim moriarty, loki |
Who: Loki, Moriarty
Where: Warehouse Loki has claimed and spelled the hell out of, outside Lawrence.
When: A little later tonight, around 9pm Lawrence-time.
What: Summoning, brief conversation (probably mostly smugness from both of them).
Why: Because Moriarty is a bitch. Also, reasons.
Status/rating: Unfinished / moderate to a low high? It's Moriarty and Loki, man, idek.
Notes: Just this.
There were no more precautions Loki could take - at least, nothing more that would not completely unravel this entire plan. There were sufficient wards on the old warehouse that kept it concealed without being completely impossible to find; there was a spell to keep it strong and standing, no matter what was thrown at it. There were traps set - salt lining the windows and doors, devils traps and angelic wards sketched along the walls, floor, and ceiling, both in red paint and burned into the surfaces with magic... and then there was a spell that served as a back-up trap, in case - as in Ruby’s case - traps and salt lines did nothing.
Moriarty would not be leaving this building alive.
The summoning had worked perfectly - granted, Crowley had a great deal less power than Lucifer, but the power was not what had concerned Loki in the first place. One could have the strongest, tallest stone wall guarding a city, and still be vulnerable to attacks from above or below. Loki had no delusions about the fact that this was a dangerous thing to do. He would be drawing attention from many sides with this move - from Moriarty’s followers, from Lucifer and those who followed him. It wasn’t likely they would all attack him - but he did not doubt that this would be a one-time thing. There would likely never be a repeat performance of this particular feat; Lucifer was not stupid, and he would very likely adapt his methods to block Loki’s new spell, after this first surprise.
But once would be sufficient.
It felt good, being able to help - especially with this, with something that mattered. He was growing far too accustomed to being unable to intervene when those he cared for were endangered or hurting. He had already been displeased about Moriarty’s return, in the first place - and now, having seen the newest film installment about the life he was meant to lead in his own world, the events that transpired...
Loki was entirely done with losing people, with letting fate do what she would. There were too many things he could not accept, too many things he wanted to find a way to fix or to change...
...for now, though - this.
The ritual itself was rather simple - herbs and ingredients, Latin ringing out in the otherwise-empty room, and it was beginning. He had refused to allow anyone be present for this part; too much depended on his ability to focus and push his energy into the appropriate channels; too much depended on his ability to know every variable in the entire structure, every loose nail and every candle, every drop of paint and blood and magic that had been put in place to keep this place safe. Someone else, even someone he trusted, moving about in here - someone else's energy altering the movement of his own - it would not be completely secure.
The sound of Moriarty’s name rolled from Loki’s mouth like a curse as the ritual portion of the spell concluded, and the flames on the candles surged as drops of his blood mixed with the herbs and ingredients for the spell. Then the room was alight in magic, only for a second - but it felt like minutes, drawn out and stretched as Loki pushed the power where it needed to be, used it as ropes to pull and as a lure to draw the dark spirit of the monster he sought... It was harder, this time - summoning Ruby from under Crowley’s protection as his test, he’d known it would be. He hadn’t realized it would be quite this difficult, however; it took a great deal of his strength - pulling, compelling... tearing past resistance and protection and digging in hooks of light and magic and dragging--
When it was over, when the power faded out and Loki was left feeling weakened, but triumphant, the room was dark, lit only by the three candles on the table before him, the three on the floor around the outer edges of the traps, and the moonlight leaking in through the skylights, between lines of painted wards. It was not too dark, though, to see the shape of a person standing in the middle of the encircling traps, and Loki’s expression darkened, the faintest trace of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
“Well. Hello there.”