epidemiology | closed. tick-tock on the clock

Entry tags:

closed. tick-tock on the clock

CHARACTERS: Kida (

adlantisag) and Loki (

selfimage)
DATE: backdated to 10/03
WARNINGS: none.
SUMMARY: two dumb shits do dumb shit, aka Kida and Loki try to break into the Mechanical Room and pay the price.

[ She waits for him down the hall from the room itself, feeling antsy. There's a soft engine hum that reverberates from that vast door, filling the space. Since the conversation with Uruz, she's tried to collect as much information as she could about the mechanical room, but between her only rudimentary reading skills and the vastness of the library, information was sparse. She hopes Loki's had better luck.

It's been bothering her, this idea of a Timeline. Destiny. Who controls whose destiny? Every time she speaks to someone, she hears the same story: Atlantis, you mean the sunken city? The one that got destroyed?

Why is it that in every single world, Atlantis is destroyed? Atlantis falls, Atlantis is sunk, Atlantis is wiped from the face of the earth. A flood, an earthquake, the anger of the gods. The cause may be different but the story stays. Why does the story stay? Who writes the story?

Maybe, just maybe, there are answers inside. ]

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[ "better luck" was not something on either of their sides, not when it came to this. Loki had already faced the hardships of destiny, and while he cared less being ALASTAIR's lackey than being away from Asgard, he was still desperate to find a way to change his role in a story that seemed to already be written. something itches at the back of his mind when his research comes up with no more than what he started with, even with his sleuthing skills, subtle manipulations and way with words, he got nothing but small shrugs and "sorry"s in reply.

frustrating, and borderline damning.

yet he was still tenacious. this isn't something that he could afford to give up.

when he approaches, it's with a sweep of his jacket and a hand up to gesture. ]

Nothing.

[ he would comment more about the state of nothing, but they're neither in the time nor the place for Loki to be anything less than short and bitter. ]

You?

[ Kida opens her hands, palms empty, which should tell Loki everything he needs to know. ]

My searching has been in vain. [ Her tone says all the rest: her annoyance, her increasing frustration. She can't even say she's particularly annoyed by Uruz, Dagny and the others; they don't genuinely seem to be hiding much. Whatever's happening here, if anything at all, is right over all their heads. ]

But I suspect we may yet find answers, if we look hard enough.

[ Her eyes slide sideways, back down the hall. An invitation. ]

[ "look hard enough" being the codeword for "break in." there weren't many places that Loki would say that he couldn't get into without a little elbow grease.

tucking his hands in his jacket pockets, he begins to saunter down the hallway, his footsteps making barely a sound. there's a slight glow of the soles of his feet, his boots stepping just above the floor as to not cause any echo that may catch someone's unfortunate attention. ]

Well, I'm not about to turn down an opportunity. Though this looks a bit ... too easy. The Asgardian dungeons were always filled to the brim with clever traps and illusions.

[ Loki slides to the closest corner, bringing up his fingers and fostering a small spell. green tendrils flicker and dance over his dark nails. ]

[ Seeing as how this is magical elbow grease that's being applied, she doubts she can be of much help. She hasn't really seen Loki's proper magic, this sparkly kind, at work before, so she can't say she isn't curious. Being lighter than he is, and (surprise!) perfectly capable of stealth befitting a hunter, Kida creeps her way up to Loki's side, barely a whisper along the floor. Too easy is right, though. ]

Surely there must be some fortification...?

[ Her voice is a murmur, intended for his ears alone. She has no idea how magical booby traps work; she just remembers the piece of paper he'd given her when she went to meet with the King, and the impenetrable seal it had created. Perhaps there's something not unlike it, on the other side of that door. This close, the hum is loud enough to make her jaw vibrate when she breathes. ]

[ two was better than one in Loki's case, and he trusted Kida enough to use that to their advantage if they came by trouble (which, well, he assumed they'd come by. ]

I doubt we're the mechanical room's firsts. [ with eclectic bunch of employees that it collected, either ALASTAIR is reckless or desperate, and Loki's not about to write off either. ] Nor will we be its lasts.

Can you keep an eye open? We don't want anyone sneaking up on us.

[ with glowing green fingers, he goes into his jacket and retrieves a small box. when he opens it, there are small charcoal pencils like little pointed straws. he picks one of the shorter ones before tucking it back in his pocket and facing the door. ]

Now then ... you've got something that we would like to see. Show us your secrets, won't you?

[ he begins with small, with a series of concentric circles. ]

[ Kida's assumptions are about in line with Loki's, though she doesn't verbally say as much, preferring to turn away so she can best look down the hall on either side.

It isn't long before she hears footsteps of the thudding, living-armour kind. Wary of the magic he's casting, she doesn't reach for Loki, but does lean into his space a bit. ]

We will not be alone long.

[ She doesn't need to tell him to 'work quickly'-- one armour is approaching sooner than the other, though judging by the sound, it doesn't seem to pick up speed as it makes its way towards them. Kida raises her spear, unsure if she even has the strength to intercept it. ]

[ there's a hiss of a curse beneath his breath with their approaching company. luckily he's done this before, and his fingers are deft in their practice. there's a series of small runes, perfectly geometrical even without instruments to perfect their placement. when he mutters the Old Norse of the first spell (that she recognizes most likely, words for "show" that linger at certain syllables; there's a moment where he holds another out so oddly that the meaning changes, and the wisps of reality around respond in a change of tune), the runes he's inscribed glow briefly then dull like embers.

Loki narrows his eyes. ]

... What?

[ the gears in his head turn and click as if he's trying to make sense of what's happening. ]

[ She watches Loki's magic fizzle out and, with it, the largest portion of their hopes. Whatever's beyond that door, it can best a god.

With a growl, she levels her blade, but two things happen: her hands begin to burn, morphing her growl into a hiss and causing her to nearly drop the spear. Her arms trembling, she flips over her palm, watching the skin turn an unnatural, vivid red. She looks askance at Loki. ]

What is--!?

[ The armours haven't stopped, however, though as before they continue to lumber more than walk. Great gauntlets clap over Kida and Loki's shoulders, seemingly polite but also insistent. ]

[ danger danger danger danger. ]

Fuck!

[ there wasn't enough time to make another. his brain reels—(think of something else, another solution!)—and falls flat, churning while his heart thumps in his ears. he'd been caught doing worse, grander schemes in better days, but failure was not ever something he took gracefully.

in a scramble, Loki smears the charcoal on the door so the spellwork can't be researched and replicated. ]

Kida! [ turning beneath the embrace of a metal hand, he reaches out for her.

it's weird how some situations turn out. he could turn tail and save his own ass, leave her here among the armor to be punished, but ... well. he's found in times of distress, that the moments of self interest leave him, even if it's just for a little while. ]

[ The armour's hand is heavy, and Kida's too distracted by the burning at her own hands to truly fend it off. She growls and futilely tries to shake it. She feels a bit like a child being caught by a parent rather than a criminal caught by a guard. ]

I am fine, I--

[ But he reaches for her, and she realizes what he wants. In truth, she'd expected him to be gone already. She slips her hand into his before she's too restricted. ]

Can you?

[ Get us out of here. ]

[ really, he should be gone. why isn't he gone? the thought hardly occurs to him, and that's one of the only reasons he's still tethered here. if there was something he was good at, it was running. (but she had as much of a right to be here as he did, scourging for morsels that could be considered answers.) later, he'd tell himself that he did it to save face, as it would be detrimental to his cause if fell into an expected reputation.

the outstretched fingers that reach for her are beginning to tinge red, like they were blistered by burning embers. all it takes is for their fingers to brush, for Loki's middle finger to hook around her ring finger, and a harsh mutter of an old word to pass his lips like a curse. (elsewhere.)

teleportation isn't the bad part. it's the landing that's always disorienting. Loki's used to it, but when they tumble into the library between the shelves of dusty tomes, the slight changes in scent and atmosphere become almost overwhelming. unfortunately for the two of them, there are other, more pressing issues to be had.

Loki's dark nails are twitching, his fingers burning, and a low hiss coming out from between his teeth as he's unused to the onset of pain lasting as long as it is. ]

Damn it.

[ failure hit harder than anything, even as he watches his hands turn red with stain. with his fist still on fire, he slams it into the bookshelf, the whole thing rattling with the fury that he's feeling. ]

[ She's teleported all of never, and her first experience is disorienting. She tumbles to the ground, flailing, reaching out for the shelves and only succeeding in knocking down some books. Her spear clatters to the ground.

For a minute, all she does is blink, breathe, and reorient herself. Library.

All right.

Rolling herself back up, she stands, only to flinch when Loki's fist slams into the shelf. The wood splinters a bit. They're going to attract more attention.

Gently, she sidles up behind him, her hand wrapping around his arm gingerly, palms tender. ]

Easy.

[ Her voice is low. Loki weighs far more than any human, and so she can't really pull him away, she can only suggest it with the curve of her body, inviting him to move towards her. ]

Loki...

[ 'All is well' is trite to say when all is not well. Still, she worries for her friend. ]

[ red fingers flex as if in reply, his knuckles twisting as he adjusts to the prickling heat. he remains as he is for a moment, like a statue frozen in place. finally he releases, his hand unraveling, but no less tense. for a moment he looks wild, like the agent of chaos that he was born as, damned with the discomfort of expectation. ]

Ah, it's to be expected. [ the usual poetic cadence that he speaks with is gone. ] We knew it wouldn't be unguarded.

[ the implicated is to someone like them, but he leaves it open. his shoulders begin to relax, and a pair of bright eyes search the damage that he caused, aware and borderline uncaring (a little happy that he got to ruin something).

his gaze go to her hands, and his, and the bright stain of scarlet across both of them. ]

And it seems we haven't gone unpunished.

[ He's striking, like that: flinty for a moment, hard-edged like a knife. It's like watching water turn to ice. She doesn't dislike it, though she wishes seeing him like this felt less like standing close to fire. ]

We did. [ She watches him unwind a bit; it eases the tension out of her own shoulders. Her eyes dart between his palms and her own, held up. Red. She breathes out, amused. ]

How poetic. We are 'red handed'...?

[ it's a brief reminder, a spark that threatens a forest fire, of just how dangerous he can be. it's almost as if he realizes it himself, and withdraws back, slowly rolling up his coils. ]

Ah—goodie, not only painted with failure, but with someone's poor idea of humor.

[ his voice drips. if he had made the joke, there would be a good chuckle at it in self-amusement. but no—no. instead they get this.

Loki turns his hands slowly, as if the deep scarlet was somehow a trick of the light. ]

We definitely aren't the first ones. Next time we'll have to be distinctly cleverer.

[ Next time, he says. She likes the sound of that. ]

There you are. [ He seems to fill out again, forms smoothing back into place as Loki. Still, she knows it for what it is, now: a facade, or at least just one face of the coin. ]

This was merely a scouting run. [ If nothing else, they have two key points of information now: the door is resistant to magic, and that they'll need to find a way around those suits of armour. ] What have you in mind?

[ he would say that he was many things, all of them Loki. ]

There has to be some means of communication, doesn't there? Otherwise the recruits couldn't get their missions. If we can't tamper with the source ...

[ he waves a red hand, tipped with black nails, and makes a soft ugh before recalling the flippant gesture. ]

We find a way to trace it. Really, it boils down to how man-behind-the-door is getting the message out.

[ a little bit of bitterness coils his voice, but some intensity remains, thrilled with the prospect of a challenge. he stole secrets from the hearts of elves, tricked dwarves into forging Asgard's greatest treasures, and he had clamored through all of Odin's unique punishments.

watch out, stupid inter-dimensional door. ]

But now, drinks.

[ can you drink to failure? ]

[ sure you can

is #yolo still a thing? fuck it, #yolo

Kida laughs, looping her arm with Loki's. His good humor seems to be restored, and she's happy to think on his proposed solutions. How does the message get out? Surely someone must coordinate. ]

I wonder, will the kitchen still serve us now that we are 'criminals'?

[ There'd be airquotes if she knew what those were. ]

Let us find out.

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closed. tick-tock on the clock

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