OPEN.

[selfimage]

CHARACTERS: Loki & friends
DATE: After the bug infestation
WARNINGS: Snippy, fussy Loki; possible cw for suicide mentions. Please tread careful.
SUMMARY: Fallout

a world torn loose went by me

[ the queasy feeling hasn't left him, the one where remembers looking through eyes that weren't his. it was as if someone had wedged something else into his head, leaving it abandoned and unwanted in the coils of his brain. it was close enough that he could see it, but far enough that he couldn't touch it. at the time of that incarnation, he had been a weapon made of wings and desperation, instilled with ambitions of the self with only half a thought to the consequence. he had once been the victim of himself, and it stirred a deep rooted fear in him only made more vivid by guilt. that child that he had never been had died by his hand.

there is only one that Loki would sacrifice himself for.

for gods, time was an odd thing. there were assumptions made by mortals that centuries were like blinks of an eye, and that the nebulous term forever meant that trivialities meant less; they didn't. time was a constant, but its effects were not. in the gap where myth met reality, it was almost completely lost, writing and rewriting itself based on the events of the now, tainted with memories of the past. some ways of going back in time were more direct, as Hela had done, more than once, when desperation had called. the quill was always mightier than the sword when lifted to kill, and far less bloodier. nothing was left behind then, and murdering the self to wedge a new one into the hollow place where he had been had not been anything short of existentially traumatic. yet when all stories ended, the timeline remembered. he doesn't know whether to be hopeful or horrified that his crimes had come back to life, and he settled somewhere in between.

Loki was normally mercurial, and finding him could be difficult. while he normally haunted the same spots, the when depending on his whims. when the temporal insects scattered, finding him became close to impossible. there were visits to places, evidence that he had just been missed (a book missing, something in the room moved, an empty coffee cup) for anyone who knew how to look. for anyone seeking him, it was most likely frustrating.

despite that, Loki can't account for everything. avoiding people is difficult when there was no where to run. he can be caught in a deeper hallway, closer to the bowels of Oska, or grabbing something from the kitchen. though he may try to quickly duck around a corner like he was never seen.

he had a lot to think about. ]

Comments

[grunehexe]

[It's quite difficult, looking for someone when you're not so good at walking. Their last talk, if it could even be called that, had left Sieglinde most confused. Cautions against tampering with hearts she could understand... he wasn't the only one to say as much to her. The petulant seeming end, though, at just what to her was a little boast about winning their little "bet"...

Unused as she was to social mores, most all her life spent isolated without "friends", or "mentors", or "parents", or any other thing that teaches a young girl the ways of interacting with the world, she had looked back on the conversation countless times trying to determine what she'd done wrong... and come up sort of empty, beyond the guess that perhaps Loki was sensitive to issues of the... heart?

But he wasn't where she could usually find him. Not in the library. Not in that one corner of the halls. Not in the- kitchen?

Sieglinde paused, mid-piling midnight snacks onto her plate, the flash of familiar dark hair drawing her gaze, brow knitting together as she struggled, unsure why the words wouldn't come out right.]

L-

[The plate is left abandoned, almost tripping over tender unbound feet in her haste to try and hurry after him.]

Loki?

[Wait up!]

[selfimage]

[ admittedly, he wasn't thinking about those who possibly cared for him when he acted on some of his more selfish and destructive whims. from Verity's own lips he had heard the story of relayed of the consequence of his thoughtlessness, but he never experienced it directly. he never heard the way that she yelled at him, and demanded an explanation.

he has to go to the kitchen for one thing or another, coffee or pastries, or something to do with his mouth when he's not actively trying to avoid others. something pulls at him when he hears her voice, and he stops instead of finding means of escape.

a hand goes through his hair, brushing it back. he's dressed in his hoodie, far less conspicuous than his diadem and jacket. ]

... Hello.

[grunehexe]

[Sieglinde had... sort of been expecting him to keep walking, and even though it would have been difficult, she'd been prepared to try and hurry after... but he stops, and she rocks back a bit on her feet, trying to regain her balance as she realizes she's still clutching a bread roll in one hand.

Ah- nevermind.]

Loki-

[She tried to give a small nod in greeting as if she hadn't just dashed after him, putting the roll behind her back. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she was reading the social cues wrong after all. Maybe exaggerating it in her mind.]

... Where have you been?

[selfimage]

[ guilt. he should feel somewhat guilty; he never had trouble with that. it was easier to be angry, most of the time, rather than be guilty, but one always seemed to infect the other. ]

I haven't left.

[ it's like some kind of novelty. he hasn't left, that was both frustrating and rewarding, all in its own.

he really didn't have anywhere else to go, besides. ]

[grunehexe]

Well, no-

[She shouldn't have been surprised that Loki of all people might get semantically clever with her words, though, so Sieglinde doesn't argue the point, that of course he was here in Oska, just not where she'd looked for him. Instead, fingers tighten anxiously on the bread roll behind her back, made uncomfortable by the vague feeling in her stomach and in the air that something was wrong without any actual proof or knowledge to point as to a why.]

But I cannot show you anything if I cannot find you. May I not show you what I have managed?

[Far used to being master than disciple herself, it took a bit of effort not to crow about her accomplishments... But that was what had suddenly led to his abrupt disconnect, before, and she couldn't figure out why without revisiting the issue, gaze careful, wary for an outburst she might not comprehend.]

[conqueress]

[ In place of handmaids, Dany has gained someone to share her chambers who does not tidy it, but seems to alter it further with each passing visit.

When the erratic visits begin to pass without a sighting, she at first thinks he must have found some new whim to follow. She does not go looking for him, being too long expectant of people returning to her of their own free will (and too long accustomed to extended absences from the people she knows), but fortune does not favor that, this time.

It favors her catching sight of him in the kitchen as she arranges a platter of fruit for herself to carry back to her room. He seems in a hurry to duck away almost as soon as he sees her, and it is then that she wonders what she has done, that he could not bring himself to protest before. ]

Must I feign blindness? [ she sighs before he can flee around the corner, a peach still in hand. A wish to be left alone, she can well understand, but Dany mislikes what she thinks she now recognizes as game of avoidance. Avoid me, if that is truly your desire, but you will not do it in my quarters. ]

[selfimage]

[ he stops as she speaks, his shoulders rolling back now that he had been caught.

there's a glance at her over his shoulder, and he retreats back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter. while he generally always has something to say, or a way to wiggle out of just about anything, he seems at a momentary loss. there were things that he wasn't sure he wanted to face, and every nerve and muscle inside of him screamed to flee.

there was no where to flee to, no new starts, and perhaps that scared him. in reality, he was never sure how to approach what happened with that other self, or how to reconcile where he was the murderer and where he was the victim. ]

Daenerys ... [ a hand goes to the back of his neck, and he looks like he's either been caught, or that he doesn't know where to begin. ] No. I ...

[conqueress]

[ She waits impatiently, but he is at a loss. When she is faced with someone who cannot speak or act for themselves, Dany does it for them, whether it is kind or unkind. ]

What is it? What grief could I have wrought upon you? [ she presses, frowning. She has little patience for games, but perhaps it also stings. There are thousands, tens of thousands in her world who would run from her, and Dany would not blame them--but she has never given a friend cause to do that.

Have I put a price upon your head, that you think to run from me? She pushes away the demand, both heated and sardonic, before it escapes her lips. ] If fleeing is your pleasure, then I cannot stop you, but you will not presume to hide from me in my own chambers. Is that understood?

[selfimage]

You didn't—no, it's not like that ...

[ it takes him a moment, finding explanation after explanation not worthy enough to come through his lips. his weight shifts to his elbow, then his hand, and he leans on the counter. ]

Yes.

[ she doesn't even give him a moment to wedge in, or he can't find anything worth countering. there's both relief and guilt as she continues. ]

...

I'm sorry.

[ the words always fall a bit awkward when he means it. ]

[conqueress]

[ Dany has received enough people in her presence and heard enough groveling from her advisors to know when an apology is meant truly.

Her face, which has hardened to disapproving steel, visibly softens a shade about her mouth and strange purple eyes. He is avoiding her, but presumably not for something she has done. He seems weary, besides. ]

If it is as you say, then why? [ The peach is set aside onto the same table he's leaning on, her hands sliding up to grasp her arms and guard them against an unseen chill, but he should not mistake that for a retreat from the offensive; not yet. She's had little cause to love revelations from those she would claim for her own, but she can conceive of no treachery here he could have committed against her. ]

[expatriates]

[ For the most part, Natasha believed in the wait it out theory of dealing with people: sooner or later, they would either come to their senses and realize that they needed to declare a request for help, or they would figure out for themselves how to deal with their problems. The system wasn't perfect, but it kept her at a respectable distance from people, within reach and accessible, but still apart somehow. Never quite moving among them. That distance comforted her.

The Avengers had dissolved it, wore down the thick barrier that guarded her like armor from the outside world, and then the Avengers dissolved as well, and she was left with staggering vulnerability and the choice to let it bury her beneath that veneer again or to accept that the failure of one team was not tantamount to the failure of her progress.

So to say that she was looking for Loki once she noticed he was scarce went too far, ascribed a significance to him that she was not comfortable giving empirical acknowledgment. But she made an effort to be more present, to keep her eyes peeled. She knew better than anyone, after all, what it felt like for the time distortion to raise the dead.

She caught him as he was coming out of the kitchen—the most accurate word for it being caught because she did not apologize and offer him the chance to move past her, but instead barred the doorway of the kitchen as he was coming out of it with her body, straightening her back and acknowledging him without budging. ]

You're a hard man to pin down.

[selfimage]

[ it seemed like he couldn't catch a break.

he had been avoiding almost everyone, managing to slither away when he heard footsteps from around the corner. those he disliked and those he liked were treated with the same avoidance, though those he disliked he could deal with, for those he liked he felt like he owed a debt.

he never liked feeling like he owed anyone anything. ]

I've made a living out of it.

[ Oska and ALASTAIR had never been high on the list of places he'd like to escape, but he's beginning to regret the decision not to be more conscious of the nooks and crannies that he may have been able to escape from. the prospect of going back to Asgardia still made his stomach turn, but it was better than here, now. ]

[expatriates]

And a killing too.

[ At least once, true or not. She lowered her arms as though to lower her defenses without any illusion about Loki actually buying into the act of vulnerable openness that she offered to him. Still, the impression could stick, and it was worth the presentation.

It was an odd thing, to pick out in mirror all the things that she didn't trust or particularly elevate about herself in him and recognize the similarities for what they were without the intent to use it as a weapon or to feel repulsed. It did not matter that he was not his alternate self because in all the ways that mattered, he still was, and it was for that reason that their every interaction left her uneasy. She pushed through the feeling on principle. Natasha would not let him be her better.

So instead, she let herself court the understanding she possessed of him as a tool of reassurance, disarming and genuine. ]

[selfimage]

[ there's a weariness about him, either from the circumstances or his state of mind. running and scheming were always two things that he was good at, but the baggage that came with him always left weight. he wasn't in the mood to wear the skin of the flippant, charming young man that he always so easily seemed to slip into. a joke was much like a lie of omission, something that he was good at. ]

Did you want something? [ it was unusually straight-forward of him. conversations were like little dances, a push and pull of truth or dare, finally ending with someone as the victor. ] You were looking for me.

[ it was the siren call of the game. ]

[expatriates]

Is it so hard to believe that I just wanted to chat?

[ The wry smile in her voice hedges something suspicious, wary. Something that is not so charmingly at ease as she tries to be, and has already accepted that her efforts at being cool and unarmed will do little to assuage someone like him. He knows where to look for cracks in a veneer.

After a beat, her smile wavers, and she gets to the point. ] You're uncharacteristically unconversational.

[ It's about as close as she can get to concern about someone like him who leaves her so paradoxically conflicted and certain that she understands him better than she understands anyone else in this universe. (On that note, she feels a pang of longing for Banner, or Barton, or Fury.) ]

[construing]

[ gwen did not go looking for loki. she did not go looking for anyone. only one person on this planet matters enough to her to say goodbye to, and she does not. saying goodbye to peter parker — even a see you later — is not a skill in her arsenal. she does not intend to leave permanently — again because of peter. once gwen has the coordinates to his universe, she can drop him off. in the meantime, she needs to go home. it's been weeks; her dad will be worried. ( mj will be spitting fire. )

spider-woman shoulders her backpack. the change of clothes she came with, her phone, the charger made for her, and the heavy weight of feelings she ( erroneously ) thought dealt with and laid to rest. the dimensional travel watch sits on her wrist, the coordinates to earth-65 already input. gwen takes a breath. she isn't sure if she'll find her way back. she hopes so. as impossible as she finds it to look peter in the eye and tell him she's leaving, disappearing without explanation isn't something she can do either. just in case, she left a letter addressed to him in her room. he will find it.

fingers curled around the watch, she releases the shaky breath. gwen turns the dial. the familiar lurching sensation seizes her around the waist —

— and drops her on top of loki. ]

Ah, fuck! Oh, fuck, what is this, what did I land —

[ for a moment, she is unaware of anyone beneath her. for a moment, she entirely silent. gwen gapes at her surroundings. her no longer unfamiliar, not any earth surroundings. ]

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME!!

[selfimage]

[ there were places that he frequented less that were willing hiding places when he didn't want to be found. he played well at the game of avoidance, keeping a distance from both those he knew he owed an explanation, and those who had seen him (it was still hard to grasp) take the form of a former life. there's a spot in the gardens where he can see hear people coming from his perch on a bench covered in indigo moss. it was a nice spot: clear, lonely, and perfect for some self-loathing.

what he hadn't expected where for people to take him off-guard by just appearing, and that's exactly what happens. he can feel her presence before she appears, his chin tipping upward and a brow raised in dubious observance. then she drops on him.

luckily for her, Loki manages to rearrange himself enough to catch her—falling on him would most likely lead to her harm more than his.

the sigh that comes from his lips is so exaggerated that it's hard to be missed. ]

[construing]

[ if looks could kill.

she jabs one finger at his face. ] Don't. [ just in case he thinks of adding a commentary track to the proceedings. don't. just don't.

not taken with her choice of seat, gwen jumps to her feet with more grace than one might expect after her undignified landing. spider-powers mean she has to actively work at being uncoordinated outside of costume. no hardcore parkour. let a few falling things, well, fall. one of many, many reasons being gwen stacy is a problem in a way that spider-woman isn't.

she has a problem now, however. huge. ]

No, no, no, no, no, come on — [ she takes off the dimensional travel device and holds it up to her face as if the problem will be revealed to her. ] Don't do this to me, not today, this is not the day to be acting up…

[ she twists it again. the portal swallows her in a radiant swirl of color…to spit her out over the same place. this time, gwen has enough awareness to twist mid-jump so she lands on the grass rather than again on loki.

there's a long pause. ]

Don't, [ she reaffirms without looking at him. whatever comments he's sure to be sitting on, ] Just don't.

[selfimage]

[ his whimsy is not up to par today.

normally he'd have a jape accompanied by an easy, crooked smile at her inconvenience, something to lighten tension, but right now it seems as if it had all been drained out of him. she fusses, talks to whatever non-sentient device is on her arm, and gets sucked into what looks (well, feels more than looks, but looks portrays it well) like some sort of inter-dimensional portal. there's something off about it, even before she disappears.

Loki watches as she appears again, flipping over his head and landing on her feat. he opens his mouth, huffs as he blows some hair from his face. ]

Is it raining today?

[ ok, there's the jape. ]

[construing]

Really?

[ one would think that after telling him to keep quiet ( three times ), him choosing to speak up would be the reason for her offense. one would think. ]

That's the best you can come up with?

[ but one would have been wrong.

gwen huffs. tipping her head back, she bites back the urge to scream. she does good; a half strangled sound of frustration is the extent of that urge. she drops her hands from where they had been grabbing her head to glare at her watch. ]

What happened to this stupid thing now?

[dailydouble]

[ Ahad does not search for him.

There are boundaries that should be respected, even if Loki's haunting of their room disrespects Ahad's. But having met the child and knowing what he does of Loki, Ahad allows him both space and time. It's something he can afford to give, as the small signs of Loki's presence continue to affirm that he will eventually return. This isn't a sundering, but something more akin to a sulk.

But the lack of his presence was more difficult than he wished to admit. He felt like a beggar in his own rooms, searching for signs that Loki had passed through. It was galling, to be made so conscious of how reliant he was on the affections of others. He was not starved for intimate contact by any means, but intentional avoidance...

If Ahad found himself in their rooms more often after the infestation, it was no one's business but his own. ]

[selfimage]

[ there are many times that he thinks about leaving, both bitterly and selfishly. he doesn't take anyone else's feelings into account, only his own need to run. in another time, Verity had scolded him for something along the same vein. he hadn't remembered it; he had heard about it.

so when reality dawns upon him, and Dany makes it known that his own desires have been selfish, he heads back to his room with a tail between his legs. it's worse that Ahad's there, and that he can feel him when he approaches the door.

like any mortal, he opens the door, slips in, and closes it behind him with a click.

it had been days. probably far too long already. ]

I ...

[ he starts, as if he had been trying to figure out the words. ]

[dailydouble]

[ Ahad had been attempting to read, but even the pretense of that was gone once Loki opened the door. This particular confrontation is one that he's been waiting days for, but not one that he truly desires to have. Nevertheless, they both have things that are better said than left to fester.

Once Loki trails off, Ahad will look up and meet his eyes. There's no judgement in his stare; he simply waits for Loki to continue on.

That Loki's return balances and warms him leaves him more disturbed than anything else. ]

[selfimage]

[ selfish. he had been selfish.

even after Nalawi, they had never discussed what they saw in each other, only shared it. it was easier that way, better in some respects, but difficult in the way that it had been affecting them now.

he owes him, doesn't he? ]

I'm sorry.

[ it's half a whisper, having caught itself in his throat coming up. apologies were difficult—true apologies when he had done wrong? those were even worse. ]

[dailydouble]

[ It's on the tip of his tongue to throw back something sarcastic, but he only sighs instead. He will not throw the apology back in Loki's face, not when it is truly meant.

There's a certain level of wry humor underlying his words, when he speaks. ]

Perhaps we should discuss exactly what it is you're apologizing for?

[ It's phrased as one, but this is not a question. ]