Loki | MCU (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} subtletrick) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} wariscoming,@ 2014-08-28 12:07:00 |
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What: Contemplating killing everyone. FOR THE GREATER GOOD THO!!
Where: Panem, somewhere woodsy for optimum brooding/pensiveness
When: Today sometime
Rating: Character death!
Why: I blame the fever.
Note: Info updated!
It felt as though there were a layer over his skin, something just-there, making him thick and slow and clumsy - or perhaps it was the opposite of that: a layer removed, leaving him raw and vulnerable and cold, making him weak. Things like hunger were rarely relevant to him - while he could feel hunger, it was rarely a requirement that he eat to survive; he would prefer not to, but it was normally possible to go many days without sustenance, supplementing his energy levels with magic. The same was true of sleep - he could keep functioning for at least a reasonable amount of time without rest.
Here, however, in his present state, and given the amount of tension and stress and the physical exertion, he was at a disadvantage. He was tired - if he remained still for very long, his eyes felt heavy, rolling and shuttering like they were going to betray him - but he had not yet slept longer than two hours at a time. It did not seem wise. Not with the nature of this place - and with Ward here. Not with the dangers the outside forces who watched them were capable of being.
He had seen the films with Darcy - half-watching, not truly interested in the fictional story taking place at the time, though now he perhaps wished that he had paid closer attention - and he had met some of the "tributes" from this place... long ago. It had always sounded like a terrible place to have come from - a terrible place to be. He had never thought he would be there. He had never expected to be thrown head-first into something like this, left without even the most basic protection spells or offensive magics.
He was fairly sure it would end when there was one left standing. One victor. Yet with deaths being impermanent, it would have to be done quickly, before the dead returned. It would have to be a gathering of everyone and then murder of people he knew just to get them all home... assuming it would work that way. But they were scattered, here - some keeping away by choice and some by this place's strange ability to split groups into fragments - and Loki did not know if he could do it. Even if they were all here, together, and even with his magic - he was more than a little bit hesitant. He had been fighting the monster that he knew he was capable of being for so long now that it felt like perhaps he had won out over it - he could think about the idea theoretically, but anything further...
It felt impossible. He knew it was not. It was entirely possible, if he caught them off guard and removed the more skilled fighters first... and it was important. If they all wanted to get home, this was how it had to be. It was temporary, impermanent. They would return from the dead, and it may provide a way to get them all home. It was... a means to an end. They would hate him later. Of course they would. But they would be home - he would accept that.
The birds - the ones who screamed with the voices of his loved ones, bungeeing between them like someone had taken everyone he loved and was tormenting them - seemed to grow louder. It was as if the voices were warning him away from his thoughts, reminding him of the reasons he should simply ride this out - or perhaps providing the motivation for them. What if they were here, too? Unseen? The seal could have done that. Perhaps they would be returned only when this "game" was over.
It was time to end this "game".
He had to convince the rest of them to meet in one place. Then...