[ 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. ]
If I wanted to throw you out the window I'd have done it by now, let's face it.
[ Despite the wry words (a byway for Don't be scared), her smile deepens reflexively when he stays put and she lightly jostles his hands in hers. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she persists more gently. ]
[ he's not sure if he wants comfort, or if he wants anyone to forgive him, the idea that he could possibly be forgiven for such an atrocity weighed as heavily on his shoulders as the crime itself. on some level, all he wanted was to be appropriately punished for it, as in, whatever Loki believed was appropriate punishment. he had weighed the wrath of Thor that may come with it with Thor's acceptance, as well as his forced departure from the Young Avengers, because he was never quite sure how to deal with the possibility that they would accept him (Kate saw to it differently, of course). forgiveness would always come as a mixed bag—he could hurt them. deliberately, most likely.
[ A soft snort and an unimpressed smile is returned, wondering how different he is. She remembers standing at the foot of the stairs of a bright globe, speaking the same words, and being just as concerned when he looked uncertain about using Gram. I'm sorry, I'm sorry ... Funny how that makes sense now. ]
Probably never was.
[ She leads him to the window now he'll let her, one hand still in his as another runs through her hair before gesturing at the city spreading out before their feet. ]
This is a beautiful view, it really is. I could stand here for hours just watching it change. But even with all the imperfections I can see, I know there are crimes locked away where I can't. I'm not looking at just the part built up for show, I can see the whole truth of what's in front of me. [ A nod to their feet and the dizzying descent mere inches away. ] Not to mention that's a hell of a fall, I'd be completely useless if I took it. I'd lose my perspective.
[ It's hardly the subtlest metaphor. Then again, it's an offering for him to sink his teeth into, a solid foothold for his doubts. Verity offers a open smile. I know the scope of evil in your past, I can be comprehensive in my guesses without factoring in every little detail. I know how terribly you could rip this all apart. Caring about him is exasperating and painful, but he has to learn it's not something friends switch on and off as it suits. ]
I heard every word you just said. Every single one. [ Murderer. Staring at him intently, her brows cinch together. ] If I look like I'm falling all over myself to make you feel better, I'm not, you just have to let — to let someone help, at some point. Not even me if you think I don't get it, just anybody. Please? Maybe in a thousand years from now when the rest of us are dead and gone, but make sure you do do it, or you'll twist yourself into something you won't like.
[ It's strange. Knowing his world was so much bigger and now having been thrust into it through a metaphorical hedge backwards, all thanks to the Porter. The way he dismissed her back home still hurts even though it wasn't really him, even though he was spelled to be cold and cruel, and it hurts now too to know she's a blip on his radar, but that's made alright by knowing there are people who can help him through this. From her, he'll get no forgiveness or excuses, only patience and loyalty. He needs time to come to terms with who and what he is, his actions, and Verity is determined to muscle her way through his front door as many times as she needs to in order to be his anchor while he goes through that. ]
[ if anything, Loki was a master of the gameboard—a master of the greater perspective. he could see the pieces, the directions that they could move, and he could think of five, or six steps ahead. it was the blessing of every incarnation of Loki, from the one that returned after Ragnarok to the child self that used the entire Nine Realms as his playground. and now, he was this Loki, looking out with a new appreciation to whim and chaos, less stringent in the pulling of strings and needless control.
people were pawns to him in a dance to his own victory, and sometimes he felt as if he still got caught in the siren call of victory. he uses people to get there, and while "there" occasionally means all of his good intentions, it's still for the same means, no matter what the end.
he hesitates, looks out the window before averting his eyes. it's not about what he wanted, but more about what he deserved at this point, and some punishments he was still too cowardly to confront. ]
That's ... just it, Verity. The perspective—that kind of freedom ... It was distinguished with what was in that dungeon. I know I can't make that up for you, and the dance that we've caught ourselves into is nothing less than self-destructive, but I owe you more than that.
[ it defeats the purpose, almost, and that's why the words in conjunction with his confession make him feel ill. ]
It was me. From the future. A King Loki with an evil plot. He wants me to become him, and I fear that I may fall into it.
[ The idea of being able to split himself into such separate, incarnate versions and traverse time and space to harass himself is so strange that it won't be an easy thing to come to terms within a hurry, even with every word ringing true and forcing her to believe it. She would have anyway, even if she wasn't a lie detector, because he looks so small all of a sudden as he elaborates on his confession.
I wish I was stronger, she idly thinks in the back of her mind, her hand in his tightening supportively. I'd make sure you were safe.
But she can't. ]
He's back because he knows he can't control you, it's scare tactics and threats. You might have lived his life once but not anymore, if anyone's anxious then I'm willing to bet it's him. I won't let you fall into bad habits either, not like his. [ I couldn't be by your side if you did those awful things.
Loki is her friend, the first in a long time. If she can give anything back to him for the way he's touched (and bettered) her life, Verity will; it might make her feel a little like a ridiculous, over-zealous guard-dog, but she doesn't care. He sounds like his resolve has wavered in the past already. ]
That makes two of us on the alert for his schemes — I can be pretty useful when it comes to fakes and I'm still looking right at you, not seeing anything of the sort.
he might do it again, he might hurt her. King Loki may twist them both in a scheme, and it might hurt her. it's such an odd feeling, one that's displaced among pieces and playgrounds. it still makes him anxious, wary of both himself and the way that he seems to get caught up in all of his desires. at the same time, the anxiousness is quelled with her deciding to stand beside him, to still be his friend, as horrible as he may be. it was a decision that Lydia made, as well.
there's a small, ironic smile. just a little bitter, but grateful. ]
You don't need to do that. I appreciate the offer, I really do. [ he doesn't get anything like that without working for it, usually, pulling strings and making debt. ] But getting that mixed up always means trouble.
[ King Loki came back for a reason, and it doesn't have anything to do with anxiousness or stress or anything so existential. he wants something, and Loki has it. ]
Even this ... I didn't expect you here, of all places.
[ An understanding look turns into a brief, self-deprecating smile as she chuckles under her breath, and her hand slips from his to rub at her own arm as she steps forward to take a better look outside the window, idling while finding out what she wants to say to that. It's strange and different from home where they have their own set boundaries, no matter the odd circumstances that keep trampling into their lives, and it's good to know there's a much wider safety net of people for him than she previously did, especially with all the issues he's been keeping under wraps.
It does feel a little like being a plain brick in a very colorful wall, though. Not a bad thing, yet the truth, and she can't lie to herself that she has never been as important to her best friend as he has been to her ... but Verity is a big girl, offering him a better smile after a moment's pause. The genuine one he deserves because that's honest, too. ]
I'm here if you need me.
[ There are far more people around than Lorelei that she can call for help if she thinks he's spiraling out of control (far more people willing to be so), although she doubts she'd be the first to notice anymore. Taking a step back is the smart thing to do in this place where she doesn't belong — rather that than getting in the way or God forbid, feeling like an obligation. ]
[ Loki lifts a hand and sets it carefully on her shoulder, squeezing as if he's comforting her instead of the other way around.
he starts and then he thinks better of it, and then he hesitates and tries again. ] It's the same for me. [ that's a step in the right direction. if he wanted to run, he'd have no place to go, if he turned his back, he'd have those that would force his return with vengeance. while it's terrifying to have to deal with certain aspects of himself head-on and without being able to point his finger in any direction except inward, it was also relieving. ]
I want to be someone you can depend on, too. [ he's hesitant and unsure, but he's sincere. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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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[ Despite the wry words (a byway for Don't be scared), her smile deepens reflexively when he stays put and she lightly jostles his hands in hers. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she persists more gently. ]
I'm right here, it's okay.
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reluctantly he allows her to take his hands. ]
That's not as comforting as you may think.
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Probably never was.
[ She leads him to the window now he'll let her, one hand still in his as another runs through her hair before gesturing at the city spreading out before their feet. ]
This is a beautiful view, it really is. I could stand here for hours just watching it change. But even with all the imperfections I can see, I know there are crimes locked away where I can't. I'm not looking at just the part built up for show, I can see the whole truth of what's in front of me. [ A nod to their feet and the dizzying descent mere inches away. ] Not to mention that's a hell of a fall, I'd be completely useless if I took it. I'd lose my perspective.
[ It's hardly the subtlest metaphor. Then again, it's an offering for him to sink his teeth into, a solid foothold for his doubts. Verity offers a open smile. I know the scope of evil in your past, I can be comprehensive in my guesses without factoring in every little detail. I know how terribly you could rip this all apart. Caring about him is exasperating and painful, but he has to learn it's not something friends switch on and off as it suits. ]
I heard every word you just said. Every single one. [ Murderer. Staring at him intently, her brows cinch together. ] If I look like I'm falling all over myself to make you feel better, I'm not, you just have to let — to let someone help, at some point. Not even me if you think I don't get it, just anybody. Please? Maybe in a thousand years from now when the rest of us are dead and gone, but make sure you do do it, or you'll twist yourself into something you won't like.
[ It's strange. Knowing his world was so much bigger and now having been thrust into it through a metaphorical hedge backwards, all thanks to the Porter. The way he dismissed her back home still hurts even though it wasn't really him, even though he was spelled to be cold and cruel, and it hurts now too to know she's a blip on his radar, but that's made alright by knowing there are people who can help him through this. From her, he'll get no forgiveness or excuses, only patience and loyalty. He needs time to come to terms with who and what he is, his actions, and Verity is determined to muscle her way through his front door as many times as she needs to in order to be his anchor while he goes through that. ]
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people were pawns to him in a dance to his own victory, and sometimes he felt as if he still got caught in the siren call of victory. he uses people to get there, and while "there" occasionally means all of his good intentions, it's still for the same means, no matter what the end.
he hesitates, looks out the window before averting his eyes. it's not about what he wanted, but more about what he deserved at this point, and some punishments he was still too cowardly to confront. ]
That's ... just it, Verity. The perspective—that kind of freedom ... It was distinguished with what was in that dungeon. I know I can't make that up for you, and the dance that we've caught ourselves into is nothing less than self-destructive, but I owe you more than that.
[ it defeats the purpose, almost, and that's why the words in conjunction with his confession make him feel ill. ]
It was me. From the future. A King Loki with an evil plot. He wants me to become him, and I fear that I may fall into it.
[ and with that desperation, he recovers. ]
Though by no means will I give up.
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I wish I was stronger, she idly thinks in the back of her mind, her hand in his tightening supportively. I'd make sure you were safe.
But she can't. ]
He's back because he knows he can't control you, it's scare tactics and threats. You might have lived his life once but not anymore, if anyone's anxious then I'm willing to bet it's him. I won't let you fall into bad habits either, not like his. [ I couldn't be by your side if you did those awful things.
Loki is her friend, the first in a long time. If she can give anything back to him for the way he's touched (and bettered) her life, Verity will; it might make her feel a little like a ridiculous, over-zealous guard-dog, but she doesn't care. He sounds like his resolve has wavered in the past already. ]
That makes two of us on the alert for his schemes — I can be pretty useful when it comes to fakes and I'm still looking right at you, not seeing anything of the sort.
[ A small smile. ]
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he might do it again, he might hurt her. King Loki may twist them both in a scheme, and it might hurt her. it's such an odd feeling, one that's displaced among pieces and playgrounds. it still makes him anxious, wary of both himself and the way that he seems to get caught up in all of his desires. at the same time, the anxiousness is quelled with her deciding to stand beside him, to still be his friend, as horrible as he may be. it was a decision that Lydia made, as well.
there's a small, ironic smile. just a little bitter, but grateful. ]
You don't need to do that. I appreciate the offer, I really do. [ he doesn't get anything like that without working for it, usually, pulling strings and making debt. ] But getting that mixed up always means trouble.
[ King Loki came back for a reason, and it doesn't have anything to do with anxiousness or stress or anything so existential. he wants something, and Loki has it. ]
Even this ... I didn't expect you here, of all places.
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It does feel a little like being a plain brick in a very colorful wall, though. Not a bad thing, yet the truth, and she can't lie to herself that she has never been as important to her best friend as he has been to her ... but Verity is a big girl, offering him a better smile after a moment's pause. The genuine one he deserves because that's honest, too. ]
I'm here if you need me.
[ There are far more people around than Lorelei that she can call for help if she thinks he's spiraling out of control (far more people willing to be so), although she doubts she'd be the first to notice anymore. Taking a step back is the smart thing to do in this place where she doesn't belong — rather that than getting in the way or God forbid, feeling like an obligation. ]
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he starts and then he thinks better of it, and then he hesitates and tries again. ] It's the same for me. [ that's a step in the right direction. if he wanted to run, he'd have no place to go, if he turned his back, he'd have those that would force his return with vengeance. while it's terrifying to have to deal with certain aspects of himself head-on and without being able to point his finger in any direction except inward, it was also relieving. ]
I want to be someone you can depend on, too. [ he's hesitant and unsure, but he's sincere. ]
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