[ He's probably going to go right up to any storms and stick his face in them, isn't he. Mmrr. ]
i don't want to walk around with a toasted friend, that's all. you can't carry off the literally smoldering look.
[ Half-lying with her flippancy and omitting what she wants to say is cheating but who cares, she was the sushiqueen for over a week and gets a free pass. ]
are you still going to tell me what you wanted to, before the strike?
I'll come get you. It's not a conversation I'd like to be caught amidst.
[ no, it's something that could damn him, even this far from home. he had been anxious during the file leak, and it's possible that the truth about him was still somewhere out there, tucked safely away in someone's coat pocket. it felt like he was sitting on a bomb. ]
[ Loki hesitates, lowering his phone, gaze lingering on the screen briefly before he pinches the space between his eyes. this was it. the calm before the storm always made him anxious—one of the only things that he felt guilty for. but he owed her this, he owed her this conversation that may cause her to walk away.
or worse, forgive him.
with a sigh of defeat, he mutters his own spell and manifests in front of her door of her room. it only seemed polite to take the decent route when he knew the damning route the conversation could take.
[ There's something about knowing Loki, of all people, is nervous that makes the air in the room a bit thinner, her attention more prone to flicking about until she hears that knock on her door. Opening it, she offers up a smile (whether to him or for the sake of her simmering anxieties, she couldn't say). ]
Hey. Do you want to come in or go somewhere else?
[ Wherever he feels the most secure would be ideal. ]
[ Loki could make a joke out of anything, like a little lie that made certain situations easier to bear. there was no backing out of this, and no weave of prose to make it better. even when he rearranged his story, even when he could figure out ways of making it less his fault, there was still an awareness of the murderer that he had become that day. ]
Shall we? I never did get to show you my apartment.
[ a poor excuse, one where there's a level of understanding where she may not stay. ]
It'll be lickity split. You'll even have a chaperone this time.
[ and he offers an arm in an oddly polite way. (he does know how to be, when he knows that he's done something that may require it.) ]
[ Her arm loops through his, happy to go wherever he needs to be in order to rehash the history making him so jittery. (Jittery for him, which looks reasonably polite on anyone else but doesn't fool Verity.) ]
Up and away, then.
[ As strange as the mode of travel is, she isn't scared if he's there to take the lead. ]
[ it's less of an "up, up and away" and more of a mutter of a spell in an old northern language. the ride is surprisingly smooth, no motion sickness or pull of the gut. not even the smell of ozone. they arrive as they left, like taking a single step through the veil of reality, and then they were somewhere else. the trip does leave travelers with heightened senses due to comparability. humidity, temperature and time of day led for a little bit of disorientation. for Loki it was easy to adjust, he'd done it a million times before, but the first trip (that wasn't Doom's sloppy mechanical sorcery) was always the worst.
they appear in the hallway just outside of the elevator, with the lead to the stairs up to the loft. ]
I suppose I should start where we left off, with that something terrible I was talking about.
[ It's a little like the first time one experiences car sickness, an unpleasant and unexpected queasiness that prompts a hand to touch her stomach as she paces ahead once her shows her in, giving a cursory glance at their surroundings before he draws her focus. There's no way he couldn't, not when the weight of the topic hangs heavy in the set of her shoulders, weeks spent wondering building up into a concerned frown.
Standing in the middle of the room, her arms flop against her sides in an open shrug. Brown eyes search him, intent. ]
Please.
[ Please, just tell me. Get this over with, you're acting strangely. ]
[ Loki was good at stories. he was good at building them and at telling them, at making them engaging and still weaving them with enough truths to make the whole thing believable. it was a weapon finely honed, and though it almost seemed a natural talent, his way with words only became sharper with experience.
giving her even a quick tour had already fallen out of favor, as he doesn't seem to remember that it's probably commonplace to give her that. (well, it wouldn't matter anyway, would it?) most noticeably there's a two story window on the west wall that's overlooking the city, it's bringing in enough light to cause a few dim shadows to make the atmosphere more dour, if possible.
he may as well just drop it. ]
To get this body--to be who I am now, I killed an incarnation of myself to do it.
[ his eyes go to her face, gauging a reaction before he goes any further. ]
[ If they had time she'd have liked to eat with him in front of that large window, to sit and chat about everything and nothing. His confession takes her from left-field, not as alarmed as she could be when immediately trying to make sense of it and rationalize the meaning behind the words.
After a moment's uncertain pause, a hand gestures toward him. ]
You're standing right there, Loki. How could you have killed yourself and still be yourself? That — That can't have been you.
[ it was, but it isn't. it's a complicated story. one of forced sacrifice and a plan that stretched three incarnations.
here it goes. ]
A long time ago, there were two steps taken with unknown consequence. Thor, being brought to Midgard to learn a few things about being humble, was followed by his brother Loki. Due to a few minor slights, Loki decided to be the villain in his brother's noble journey. Roles for gods are different than those of mortals. [ he's surprisingly steady, even under the stress of his own anxiety. part of it is that this feels good, it felt good when he told Lydia, and to finally let go of his guilt to someone else that wasn't himself was a fleeting gift that he didn't believe he deserved. ] What we step into can become a cage.
The Loki that played games and tricks, the boy that was the god of mischief became the god of evil, and he couldn't escape it, except in death.
So, he died. Heroically, because that was part of the plan. [ "and brought Asgard with him." he rubs the back of his neck. ] Then, Loki was brought back as a very spirited young boy who really wanted nothing more than to make Loki different--to change. He was accompanied by me, and me ... I ...
I was lying in wait. I was the echo that old Loki created for a single purpose, and that was to erase the new incarnation of Loki as soon as he fulfilled his part and take his place. I whispered to him, I acted as a guide for advice and led him in a twisted dance toward the sickle. In the end, it was my words that destroyed him, and his words that challenged me. "You'll never change, you're acting as you always do." [ he pauses to take a breath. ]
And that's ... where I am. That's who I am. A murderer and a bodysnatcher.
And that's part of what I was looking for in Asgardia's dungeon that day.
[ In all honesty she isn't sure how to take it. He isn't lying when he declares what he is and all the rest of it rings true too, sothere isn't a moment where Verity tries to intervene. She listens and waits, wanting to tell him You're wrong, a part of her unable to accept he would do such a thing while warring with the realization he did.
A couple of steps forward, toward him, is meant more for symbolism than anything. Actions speak louder than words, she won't pull away from him for this — but it's so terrible, the gravity of it leadens her tone. ]
Are you sure? If you're all the same person, part of him, isn't there any way that some of this was just inside your own head? Delusions or hallucinations? It sounds like you split up your mind, it's entirely possible you — you weren't thinking clearly. Isn't it?
[ Loki'd step back if he didn't feel like he needed to stand his ground. so instead he breaks his gaze and looks to the side, trying to unravel through the knots in his stomach. ]
That's nice of you to think, Verity. But I know what happened, and I know what I did. [ it wasn't a hallucination and it wasn't an illusion, it was a very cleverly calculated plan, and he filled that plan to a tee. ]
And I owe you the truth of that. What you want to do with the truth ... [ his voice grows quieter. ] That's yours.
A breath leaves her in the wake of it all, glancing up at the ceiling so neither of them are looking at one another while they inwardly shake down for a handful of much needed, private moments. His guilt feels like hers with the sheer truth hedging behind it, pushing it into ugly, clear relief. ]
You're my friend.
[ It's not what she wants to say (something meaningful and wise would do the trick but there's a lump in her throat and a heat behind her eyes stopping that, too invested), yet it trips over her lips all the same. Shaking her head, she looks back over to him, trying to catch his eye as she builds on what she can, all she has to give. ]
I saw him around, before we met. Just like anyone else did. I would have done anything to stay away from him and the things everyone said that he'd done. I was afraid of him. [ Teeth grit. ] I have never been afraid of you and I won't, if you can look me in the eye and swear you still want to be better. That would push me beyond a shadow of a doubt, you know it would. Everybody else? They'd believe the lie detector, too.
[ A fake promise wouldn't stand. Verity's voice softens. ]
... Or you can not, Loki, and I'll start trusting you like I should already be doing. I think I'd prefer that, because if I'm wrong about you then it'll be my fault. Not yours.
[ Placing even more guilt and blame on him would be a shitty thing to do. He's the perpetrator of a horrific series of events culminating in a cold-blooded death, but she doesn't have an off switch for her feelings where he's concerned. There's no True and False when it comes to how much she cares.
You're my friend.
And friends lighten the load, if they can, even for fallen gods. Verity would like to try for hers. ]
[ he had a lot of situations filed away in a millennia of memories. he remembered what it was like to cross the cosmos, to fail at a wicked scheme over and over again, he remembered the moment that he faced Surtur with Odin and Thor, and beyond that, he remembers the climbing suspense to his last, and most cunning trick. never, in all of that, did he remember a situation that was like this. he couldn't recall the strain in her voice or the pleading look on her face, and not paired with the lurch of his gut.
if anything, he definitely owes her his ear. so, he listens, still feeling like he's juggling the weight from one crime to another.
it's easier to be blamed, easier to blame others, and easier to point all the fingers outward. being forgiven with gentle words, that was all too new to him, and there was nothing in his memories that prepared him for that. it was a moment of truth, change and face her, or run off and wait for another day to face the heavy weight of his personal sin. ]
Verity—I ... that person ... he's not me. [ and then that day, in the dungeon of Asgardia. ] And, I ...
[ he lifts his gaze to meet hers, finally. ] I want to change. That's all I want to do. I don't want to be the Loki that sacrifices others for himself.
[ I know, she thinks. I knew that about you without having to cross-check you with a lie detector, I didn't need to hear it. He did, she supposes, and he needs to see her nod and accept the words because there's so much doubt in him when it comes to other people. What they think and want of from him. His murder of the other Loki, however that came about, is a cornerstone that marks his guilt for her to see and continues to set him apart.
She still wonders if the majority of what happened was in his head but, even if that were so, it would not be any less real. ]
I don't believe there's anything you can't change. You are not the endgame of someone else's story. [ Her touch is light against his arm, less consoling (because he doesn't deserve that if he really did hurt someone) than supportive. Brown eyes search out green, intent and serious. ] If you need to talk about what happened ...
[ It's not healthy for him to have been keeping it bottled up for so long, god or no. ]
[ this wasn't just about being forgiven, but it was about offering her the truth. each time a lie was told, it was like stripping someone of choice—in the same way, when he lied to himself, he did the same thing. looking out and taking responsibility could be terrifying, being forgiven and knowing he can't trust himself not to do it again was moreso. ]
Talk? I'm not sure talk would really do much of anything ...
[ no, he'd start filling in blanks and diverting blame. this was his. ]
I know it's not much, I've done a lot to hurt you. I can't say that I may not hurt you in the future. I want to try ... you're the only friend that I've ever had, and you stuck by me even though ... ah—well, I did something awful to you. So, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to get mixed up. I can be terrible for people.
[ It could help, she thinks, but instead she slips her hands into both of his and gives him a tug toward the window, his apologies and self-awareness (self-deprecation really yet it isn't wholly misplaced, and that's the kicker) prompting her into action to try and buoy him. ]
Come over here, c'mon. I'm going to show you something.
[ Right by the glass of the floor-length window if he'll let himself be ushered. ]
[ talking is always what gets him places in the first place. no, talking to him was a weapon, a fine blade that he could draw at any time, even in defense of his whims. maybe it was something ingrained into him, something compulsive that he couldn't stop.
"what if I am everything I truly fear?" his child self had once posed the question, one that he couldn't contemplate with the mind of a magpie. moments like these made him appreciated it all the more. ]
Verity ...
[ he might need a little more ushering. he's not sure he's worth the comfort she's offering. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ as much as he'd usually turn tail—he's been, well, trying to be better. he knew that Lydia would most likely agree.
the next bit comes after a moment. ]
Your concern is touching, Verity.
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i don't want to walk around with a toasted friend, that's all. you can't carry off the literally smoldering look.
[ Half-lying with her flippancy and omitting what she wants to say is cheating but who cares, she was the sushiqueen for over a week and gets a free pass. ]
are you still going to tell me what you wanted to, before the strike?
1/
[ that was a waste of a perfectly good pun! ]
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Done.
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Shaking her head at her phone, she replies immediately so he doesn't infer anything from a pause. Because he would, probably. ]
come over and tell me in person. it's okay.
[ Whatever it is, however big a secret, she doesn't want him to feel like he's going to be ripped apart for it. ]
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[ no, it's something that could damn him, even this far from home. he had been anxious during the file leak, and it's possible that the truth about him was still somewhere out there, tucked safely away in someone's coat pocket. it felt like he was sitting on a bomb. ]
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pants have been acquired, ready to go. arrive anywhere you want in the house (but not the bathroom, slight dye explosion).
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or worse, forgive him.
with a sigh of defeat, he mutters his own spell and manifests in front of her door of her room. it only seemed polite to take the decent route when he knew the damning route the conversation could take.
he raps his knuckles on her door. ]
Verity?
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Hey. Do you want to come in or go somewhere else?
[ Wherever he feels the most secure would be ideal. ]
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Shall we? I never did get to show you my apartment.
[ a poor excuse, one where there's a level of understanding where she may not stay. ]
It'll be lickity split. You'll even have a chaperone this time.
[ and he offers an arm in an oddly polite way. (he does know how to be, when he knows that he's done something that may require it.) ]
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Up and away, then.
[ As strange as the mode of travel is, she isn't scared if he's there to take the lead. ]
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they appear in the hallway just outside of the elevator, with the lead to the stairs up to the loft. ]
I suppose I should start where we left off, with that something terrible I was talking about.
[ he opens the door to usher her in. ]
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Standing in the middle of the room, her arms flop against her sides in an open shrug. Brown eyes search him, intent. ]
Please.
[ Please, just tell me. Get this over with, you're acting strangely. ]
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giving her even a quick tour had already fallen out of favor, as he doesn't seem to remember that it's probably commonplace to give her that. (well, it wouldn't matter anyway, would it?) most noticeably there's a two story window on the west wall that's overlooking the city, it's bringing in enough light to cause a few dim shadows to make the atmosphere more dour, if possible.
he may as well just drop it. ]
To get this body--to be who I am now, I killed an incarnation of myself to do it.
[ his eyes go to her face, gauging a reaction before he goes any further. ]
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After a moment's uncertain pause, a hand gestures toward him. ]
You're standing right there, Loki. How could you have killed yourself and still be yourself? That — That can't have been you.
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here it goes. ]
A long time ago, there were two steps taken with unknown consequence. Thor, being brought to Midgard to learn a few things about being humble, was followed by his brother Loki. Due to a few minor slights, Loki decided to be the villain in his brother's noble journey. Roles for gods are different than those of mortals. [ he's surprisingly steady, even under the stress of his own anxiety. part of it is that this feels good, it felt good when he told Lydia, and to finally let go of his guilt to someone else that wasn't himself was a fleeting gift that he didn't believe he deserved. ] What we step into can become a cage.
The Loki that played games and tricks, the boy that was the god of mischief became the god of evil, and he couldn't escape it, except in death.
So, he died. Heroically, because that was part of the plan. [ "and brought Asgard with him." he rubs the back of his neck. ] Then, Loki was brought back as a very spirited young boy who really wanted nothing more than to make Loki different--to change. He was accompanied by me, and me ... I ...
I was lying in wait. I was the echo that old Loki created for a single purpose, and that was to erase the new incarnation of Loki as soon as he fulfilled his part and take his place. I whispered to him, I acted as a guide for advice and led him in a twisted dance toward the sickle. In the end, it was my words that destroyed him, and his words that challenged me. "You'll never change, you're acting as you always do." [ he pauses to take a breath. ]
And that's ... where I am. That's who I am. A murderer and a bodysnatcher.
And that's part of what I was looking for in Asgardia's dungeon that day.
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A couple of steps forward, toward him, is meant more for symbolism than anything. Actions speak louder than words, she won't pull away from him for this — but it's so terrible, the gravity of it leadens her tone. ]
Are you sure? If you're all the same person, part of him, isn't there any way that some of this was just inside your own head? Delusions or hallucinations? It sounds like you split up your mind, it's entirely possible you — you weren't thinking clearly. Isn't it?
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That's nice of you to think, Verity. But I know what happened, and I know what I did. [ it wasn't a hallucination and it wasn't an illusion, it was a very cleverly calculated plan, and he filled that plan to a tee. ]
And I owe you the truth of that. What you want to do with the truth ... [ his voice grows quieter. ] That's yours.
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A breath leaves her in the wake of it all, glancing up at the ceiling so neither of them are looking at one another while they inwardly shake down for a handful of much needed, private moments. His guilt feels like hers with the sheer truth hedging behind it, pushing it into ugly, clear relief. ]
You're my friend.
[ It's not what she wants to say (something meaningful and wise would do the trick but there's a lump in her throat and a heat behind her eyes stopping that, too invested), yet it trips over her lips all the same. Shaking her head, she looks back over to him, trying to catch his eye as she builds on what she can, all she has to give. ]
I saw him around, before we met. Just like anyone else did. I would have done anything to stay away from him and the things everyone said that he'd done. I was afraid of him. [ Teeth grit. ] I have never been afraid of you and I won't, if you can look me in the eye and swear you still want to be better. That would push me beyond a shadow of a doubt, you know it would. Everybody else? They'd believe the lie detector, too.
[ A fake promise wouldn't stand. Verity's voice softens. ]
... Or you can not, Loki, and I'll start trusting you like I should already be doing. I think I'd prefer that, because if I'm wrong about you then it'll be my fault. Not yours.
[ Placing even more guilt and blame on him would be a shitty thing to do. He's the perpetrator of a horrific series of events culminating in a cold-blooded death, but she doesn't have an off switch for her feelings where he's concerned. There's no True and False when it comes to how much she cares.
You're my friend.
And friends lighten the load, if they can, even for fallen gods. Verity would like to try for hers. ]
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if anything, he definitely owes her his ear. so, he listens, still feeling like he's juggling the weight from one crime to another.
it's easier to be blamed, easier to blame others, and easier to point all the fingers outward. being forgiven with gentle words, that was all too new to him, and there was nothing in his memories that prepared him for that. it was a moment of truth, change and face her, or run off and wait for another day to face the heavy weight of his personal sin. ]
Verity—I ... that person ... he's not me. [ and then that day, in the dungeon of Asgardia. ] And, I ...
[ he lifts his gaze to meet hers, finally. ] I want to change. That's all I want to do. I don't want to be the Loki that sacrifices others for himself.
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She still wonders if the majority of what happened was in his head but, even if that were so, it would not be any less real. ]
I don't believe there's anything you can't change. You are not the endgame of someone else's story. [ Her touch is light against his arm, less consoling (because he doesn't deserve that if he really did hurt someone) than supportive. Brown eyes search out green, intent and serious. ] If you need to talk about what happened ...
[ It's not healthy for him to have been keeping it bottled up for so long, god or no. ]
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Talk? I'm not sure talk would really do much of anything ...
[ no, he'd start filling in blanks and diverting blame. this was his. ]
I know it's not much, I've done a lot to hurt you. I can't say that I may not hurt you in the future. I want to try ... you're the only friend that I've ever had, and you stuck by me even though ... ah—well, I did something awful to you. So, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to get mixed up. I can be terrible for people.
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Come over here, c'mon. I'm going to show you something.
[ Right by the glass of the floor-length window if he'll let himself be ushered. ]
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"what if I am everything I truly fear?" his child self had once posed the question, one that he couldn't contemplate with the mind of a magpie. moments like these made him appreciated it all the more. ]
Verity ...
[ he might need a little more ushering. he's not sure he's worth the comfort she's offering. ]
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