CLOSED.

[selfimage]

CHARACTERS: Loki & the people who put up with him
DATE: Around the beginning of Perdition's Rest
WARNINGS: BE CAREFUL, but I'll add anything if it comes up.
SUMMARY: Shenanigans.

note: closed prompts below! I will be as slow as a turtle in molasses. If you need/want me for anything, or would like a prompt just let me know! go ahead and PM this journal, or reach me at hadal. xoxox

Comments

[apoptotic]

[ anakin frowns after him. no mention of his foolishness. no suggestion that he would be better off letting luke go. only the reminder of the importance of the timeline. what it could do for them: for him, for his wife, for loki and whatever is his end plan.

the tense line of anakin's shoulders eases without something to brace against. his frown eases too. something in him no longer feels as tightly wound. the dragon, for once, is quiet.

the force, isn't. ]

…I have a bad feeling. [ a second later, the warning becomes clearer. ] Something's coming.

[selfimage]

I know you mean that when you say that.

[ they were both in the same boat, and Loki knew more of it than he would ever let on. it was satisfying knowing the middle of a story, but he also wanted to know where Anakin would take this, what he would become, if he could change it.

an ending carved with a quill was more than a death sentence.

maybe he liked him too much for that. ]

At least we found something.

[ there's the click click click! again as Loki steps beside him with casual ease. where he was once weaponless, he now holds a bright golden blade hung loosely between his fingers.

a guttural shriek comes from above, and when Loki looks up he hisses out an ew, gross! as the shadows move like parasites beneath the skin. ]

We're gonna get covered in spider guts, aren't we?

[ he debates how much he'll like Anakin after this. ]

[apoptotic]

[ an arched eyebrow; a delicately pointed, ] "We?"

[ don't think he won't use you as human-looking shield against spider guts. ( he won't use loki as a human-looking shield against spider guts. )

( okay, maybe a little. )

the lightsaber turns in a tight arc, the sound mingling with the furious clicking. anakin takes a step forward so he stands shoulder to shoulder with loki. half a step's turn, they are almost back to back. his eyes fall briefly on the blade. ]

Should I even ask where you were hiding that?

[selfimage]

[ oh, don't try that Anakin, he'll punk you with teleportation, don't think he won't. ]

I'll lie, most likely. Somewhere inappropriate is all you really need to know.

[ Loki falls into place easily, twisting the sword on his wrist until it's upright. it gleams, even when light is scarce, like it's sucking whatever's left of it from dim chamber.

the swarm skitters above them in chaos, and Loki raises a brow as hundreds rowed eyes fix on them, watching for an opening. there's enough intelligence there to make him a bit anxious. suddenly something dawns on him, and instead of moving to strike, he grabs the corner of Anakin's poncho. with a yank and a little help from the sword it comes off suddenly. ]

Please tell me you're wearing something beneath this! Or not, I suppose.

[ and in all of a few seconds it's tossed up in the air, and the spiders refocus and attack the poor, poor poncho. it never had a chance. ]

[apoptotic]

Hey! What —

[ did loki really just.

did he really just.

wordless and poncho-less, anakin can only watch the spiders swarm the poncho ( goodbye, sweet poncho. ) he has enough sense in him recognize to an opening for what it is. he has already begun to back away.

but his poncho

ლ(ಠ益ಠლ ]

You couldn't throw your jacket?!

[ he's not unclothed. a tunic clings to his back. anakin's concern is that in the time it takes them to get back to town it might not stay there. ]

[selfimage]

[ the useless buckles on his jacket jingle in silent triumph. ]

My jacket isn't a shapeless burlap sack!

[ it's also woven with shadowthread from Svartalfheim, and he's not about to go on any quest again to replicate it. so, the poncho it was.

there's no apology on his face as he bolts after Anakin while the spiders are occupied. as they begin to look up and the sounds of thousands of skittering legs come after them, Loki starts to weave various illusions to keep them from getting too close. it works.

kinda.

there are always those few that can sniff out a sneak. ]

Damn the Norns!

[apoptotic]

[ if by "the norns" loki means himself, then, yes, anakin agrees. if he means the spiders, still agree, though not as vehemently.

anakin turns. the force seizes loki around the waist in an immediate and irresistible tug forward. he's thrown past anakin and further up the tunnel, away from the spiders.

the not so gentle landing may be indicative anakin is still feeling the loss of the poncho. ]

Keep going! [ anakin yells after him. he stands his ground long enough to swipe upward viciously at the closest spider. it screeches in pain. one of the chelicerae, a leg and half of another drop to the ground. it backs away, stumbling into the one behind it. the others have no compassion for it. anakin doesn’t stay to see what becomes of it.

with a boost from the force, anakin charges the last feet to the distant opening. he bursts out into the cold night air after loki. he skids a little down the slope, but anakin keeps his balance and faces the opening — in case any decide to follow them out. ]

[selfimage]

[ there's resistance, not from Loki, but reality clings to him like a static-charged sheet, and one force of will against another until it gives. when the push happens, Loki makes a noise of protest that probably has something to do with his dad's beard as Anakin forces him down the tunnel. ]

You're impossible!

[ Loki barks back as if being defiant about it is the only thing saving him any face.

when Anakin emerges, Loki gives him a dulled look as he looks him head to toe. (though he approves of this much more than he does the poncho.) he puts a hand to his elbow, and fingers to his cheek thoughtfully. ]

And thus so concluded our arachnid adventure. Rest in peace, floppy poncho, we hardly knew ye.

[apoptotic]

[ he swears to the force— ]