OPEN.

[selfimage]

CHARACTERS: Loki & open!
DATE: January catch-all, including the party.
WARNINGS: There's some dirty implications and a naked Loki, so tread carefully.
SUMMARY: Celebration, pranks, fireworks, devious planning, milkshakes, drama, fuzzy handcuffs and casual invasions of privacy. The usual.

Loki doesn't have a routine. In fact, he does his best to defy all possibility of routine. There are days that he sleeps late, other days that he doesn't sleep at all, mingling in the library as if somehow the deepest hour will reveal hidden texts to him. There are midnight snacks in the kitchen, mischief to be had for those lucky few who come across him in his more disobedient moods, and diving into the recesses of the photo app recently added to the jewelcomm.

The new year came like the one before it, the celebration welcome as Loki stretched himself in what felt like a new beginning. Everything had changed, but in name only. Lucky that's where it counted. A few years ago he had a party for the Young Avengers, an attempt at an apology for exploiting their trust after pulling the strings that lead to a very sore confession. If he had stayed, they would most likely trust him again, even now. He hadn't stayed; he had left in favor of a new start.

"Happy New Year, Loki," he says with a hint of a smile, a mutter into his glass beneath the loud shrieks and pops of fireworks.

NOTE | hey it's an open log, feel free to toss in a prompt. if you need a prompt, send me a PM or shoot me a msg on hadal!

Comments

DAENERYS.

[selfimage]

[ Loki's quarters are as neat as they are disorderly.

over a year of being part of ALASTAIR has left him with a unique collection of oddities plus whatever else he could manage to get his hands on through what he considered a five finger discount. there are books of all varieties stacked in precarious piles, from tomes found in the library to paperbacks with frayed edges and salacious paintings of ripped bodices on the covers. some are marked with colorful pieces of paper or scratch, whatever he could find to keep his place. it's hard to tell just how much thought he put into each tower, as they all have different heights from different surfaces.

from here he doesn't seem to cautious, but an trained eye will be able to find the little runes written in charcoal pencil scattered here and there to keep certain fingers from touching his stuff. the bed is made, though difficult to tell when it's been last used. there's folds in the blanket from where he was reading atop the comforter, pulled neatly into a Loki-shape.

there are other things, too: two open bottles of wine and the bottle of mead, Loki's jacket flung haphazardly over the backs of one of the chairs, a CD player and accompanying CD, papers with notes in two sets of handwriting with a distinct set of loops and dotted is, and various other treasures both piled on and peeking out from an open dresser against the wall.

for the time, Loki seems to have occupied himself with the shower. a stunning rendition of Queen's Don't Stop Me Now carrying with the steam. ]

[conqueress]

[ She woke before dawn from half-formed dreams of smoke and fire, and when she'd turned aside to shake Daario's shoulders, she had found herself alone and in another world.

It is mid-morning now, and she is restless still, in need of company. When the singing reaches her ears, she lets herself in, all a flutter of silver hair and white lion fur. The windblown state of her tresses bespeaks prior flying, perhaps for hours, and it all seems to settle about her small form with a wild sort of regality. At first, she sinks into the imprint he'd made on the bed, choosing to conquer it with her own, but when it becomes clear that the song (or the shower, elsewise) is not done, she grows impatient and rises again, leaving her pelt behind.

"I wanna make a supersonic man outta YOU." By all means, she thinks, unfazed by the word and uncaring of its meaning. She has long ceased attempting to learn every word she hears.

With a distant sort of curiosity, she begins making the rounds around the godsroom, as though it is in part her own. The mead bottle is picked up, sniffed at suspiciously, and put down again. Delicate fingertips are trailed, whisper-soft and without regard for runes, along the edges of tables and books. The summary on the back of one of the novels cheers her enough to inspire a faint smile, but in the end it is the dresser that draws her eye. With book in hand, she pulls one of the drawers out gently, so as not to damage anything inside, and peers in. ]

[selfimage]

[ it's an eclectic array of packrattery that's jumbled in the drawer.

in a disarray is Loki's hoodie, half folded, the hood of it half tumbled out of the drawer, an arm hanging as if it were trying to make an escape. there are objects shoved in around it: a pair of sunglasses, a ring with a minuscule but lifelike depiction of Asgardia's golden towers as it floats through the fogs and colors of space, a copy of Borat in a printed sleeve, and a pair of handcuffs, lined with fur.

the shower stops at the last refrain of 'cause I'm having a good time as Loki steps out, still humming the follow-up as he grabs himself a towel. there are a few muffled hums as he tries himself off.

you still have a minute or two, Dany. ]

are you happy i'm happy

[conqueress]

[ A man who cannot have seen more than forty namedays grins up at her from the shadows, teeth gleaming broadly beneath a thick mustachio. She plucks him up with care, bringing him into light.

CULTURAL LEARNINGS OF AMERICA FOR MAKE BENEFIT GLORIOUS NATION OF KAZAKHSTAN

Some document, she presumes, but a queer and poorly-written one. The cover is turned over, the plot skimmed. Her eyes narrow as she reads, and then she replaces proud Borat where he may resume his voyage to the US and A. By now she hears that the singing has ceased, the water turned off, but she remains unfazed. He found no fault with searching her own room, why should she? The ring she recognizes to be the one Loki must have received from ALASTAIR, and she holds it up to catch a glimpse of a realm she shall (like as not) never see. Asgard glitters even in miniature, its vast turrets crafted in gold. This too is replaced, after some quiet consideration; the sleeve of the hoodie is tucked the rest of the way into the drawer, her hand lingering fondly on the familiar softness.

But toward the back, something winks at her: metal. With a beckon of her fingertips, she draws out what looks to be a pair of detached shackles, all lined in a garish color. The fur does not seem real, but as she draws them out to dangle from her hand, it strikes her that these shackles are meant to be comfortable. They are too easy to escape, opening and closing with a nudge of her fingertip. Thoughtfully, she wriggles her finger, sending them to rattling gently.

When the door opens at last, she does not turn to face him at once, but the sight of Lloyd's dangling handcuffs should be greeting enough. ]

this looks bad

[selfimage]

[ this is the opposite of what he expected when he walked out of the bathroom.

the towel that he was drying his hair with is slung over his shoulders, hanging in wet folds as it sticks to his skin. in fact, that's all he's wearing. there's an uncaring way about the way that he poses himself, both shameless and confident. there's dark hair, still damp, sticking to his flushed cheeks. the hot steam seeps out from beyond the door and into the room, mingling in the air with the scent of shampoo.

he observes her with a look of mock surprise.

it should be simple for him to parse out the events that had lead to this, but the reality of the situation was far more comical. there he was, bare save the towel around his neck, covering skin that didn't need to be covered, and there was someone standing there grasping the ring of his fuzzy handcuffs. ]

So ... [ he begins, eyes going from the handcuffs and back to her face. ] You, or me?

[ he has a feeling he knows the answer to that, but it's the novelty of the question. ]

makes it worse immediately

[conqueress]

[ For all her flaws, an assessment that cannot be denied of Dany is that she is a quick study. Whether that has meant learning to count armies from afar, speaking Dothraki, or nocking an arrow to the dainty bow Graham has fashioned for her hands, she readily absorbs what she is taught and the context that is granted her, when she is willing.

She turns at last in wisps of silver and white, gazing boldly at who stands before her as though it is her queenly wont. Her lashes lower as she slowly takes his image in full, then her eyes flit toward the handcuffs, still glinting in the light as they swing gently from her grasp. Context is sorted and resorted at her leisure, stretching the silence for as long as it pleases her, and then a tinge of pink rises into her face. She is surprised, and he has his answer. ]

You know the answer to that, [ she says at last, sweetly as she winds the chain about her wrist. Coyness, it seems, must serve to defy how flustered she feels. ] It would not be the first time someone deemed your hands troublesome, I'm certain.

[selfimage]

[ there's no hint of modesty as her eyes rake him from head to toe, and he goes about his business as if he weren't being watched from all angles. he's all curves and legs, lissome and cat-like as if he were made for sneaking. the towel he's using to dry rubs against the side of his head, ruffling his still-wet hair. ]

My mouth more so than my hands. It tends to really get me into trouble. [ it comes out wistfully, twisted into a little smile as he crosses the room. where he begins to rummage for his clothing. there's no hurry to dress, even if Dany may be taking liberties with her gaze. ] ALASTAIR gave them to me. [ he finally adds as he grabs the waistband of his green briefs from over a chair. ] Their gifts are more an exercise in trolling than they are in holiday cheer.

I keep hoping they'll manifest some ability aside from what they're meant for.

[ like magic handcuffs. ]

[conqueress]

[ He does not lack for confidence. She likes his immodesty. Swagger, too, shall always draw her favor. A queen she may be, but though she has made a marriage with Hizdahr, her true tastes have never been so politic.

He reaches for green (of course) clothing, and she turns back to the drawer, as though uncertain she's taken out everything. ]

What abilities could they hold? [ she wonders it aloud as she searches, and then, finding nothing, closes the drawer. Without the hoodie hanging out, there is nothing to obstruct it. No mention is made of why she has come, and she does not expect him to ask. Whilst he dresses, her eyes rove the room in search of new mysteries, and alight upon something leaning against the wall. It is long and lean, and bears the unmistakable shape of a sword. ]

AHAD.

[selfimage]

[ while they couldn't be called routines (much to Loki's pleasure), Ahad and Loki had their own business to go about. true to their divine nature, the time of day played little in where they were when. despite that, when Loki doesn't see Ahad for a day or two, he knows what's happened: he's being deliberately avoided.

the hunch hits him when they never seem to catch each other in passing, and he knows enough of Ahad's nature to know that it's no mistake. when he had scrawled the name over the Dagny's request for blind dates, it had been half a practical joke and half a statement, and now the consequences came with it.

he thought of seeking him out, of crafting some sort of apology, but the essence of it escapes him. it had been what Ahad had wanted, hadn't it? tying yourself to another, but with all freedom. the constriction that came with affection seemed contrary to the idea of freedom.

yet casting away everything seemed lonely.

there were Lokis that had walked down that road before, and none of them were better for it. with a sigh he sinks in the chair in their room, placing an open book over his face as if it offered some solace. ]

[dailydouble]

[ Two days was nothing to him. It was barely enough time for even a mortal to grow wan at the absence of a lover, much less a god. Ahad was in no danger, and would likely not be for some time.

Nevertheless, he still found himself disquieted at the lack of contact between the two of them. It likely rested more with their unfinished business than a physical need, but it left him wandering the halls instead of seeking succor. Avoidance was easier, especially when Loki did not look for him.

It was only after he had bent enough to search out Dany's touch that he found himself returning to their room. Nothing is resolved by silence and everything seemed to weigh on him.

Knowing that Loki can likely feel his approach, Ahad simply enters without announcing himself. He'll pause just over the threshold to take in Loki's pose, then allow the door to close behind him. ]

If your intent was to read, that seems counterproductive.

[selfimage]

[ avoidance was always easier, but last time Loki had found that it came with consequence. where Loki was calculating, he was also emotional. nothing was done rashly, though things may be done recklessly.

with his thumb, Loki lifts the spine from his nose, a pair of green eyes peering at Ahad from beneath the pages. sitting up with a sigh of resignation, as if in greeting. ]

I thought I may be able to absorb the story rather than decipher it.

[ though the jape comes out as half a pout, a look of guilt, as if he already knows what he did. ]

[dailydouble]

[ Ahad raises one of his eyebrows, as he considers Loki. It's at the perfect height to indicate that someone is being mocked, although who is entirely up in the air. ]

If that was intended to be a pointed comment, I cannot tell if you're referring to yourself or to me.

[ There's also the option of it being both... ]

[selfimage]

[ there's a moment of pause before he sighs in resignation. ]

It was a joke.

[ a hand slides back through his hair, as if he's somehow guilty of that, as well.

even if it was just a small thing, even if he felt self-justified at the time, seeing Ahad right now dredges up some feelings of uncertainty. ]

[dailydouble]

That does not make it less pointed.

[ There's no heat in his words. It's intended as more of an observation than a judgement.

While he does glance over toward whatever wine they've stored in their room, Ahad seems to decide that forgoing it may be the better plan. He'll approach Loki instead, looming over him a moment before holding out a hand. ]

[selfimage]

[ there's a moment where Loki regards him. watches, as if that will somehow give him the answer of how to treat this. he's out of his element, and it's more than obvious. when he makes up for it, he usually does so with his own brand of japes mixed with casual arrogance.

that's somehow void, at the moment. he looks far younger.

with only a slight pause, he reaches out to take his hand, relinquishing current control (which also makes him somewhat disquieted). ]

[dailydouble]

[ As soon as Loki takes his hand, Ahad will pull him up from the chair. There's a moment of uncertainty after that, as if he can't entirely decide what to do with Loki now that he has him. Loki isn't the only one who's somewhat out of his element.

What Ahad actually does is press closer, trapping their hands between them. He'll allow his head to drop to the curve of Loki's shoulder, giving himself a moment to sink back into the comfort of physical contact. This was never a conversation that would happen without touch. ]

I take back what I said before. You're even more ridiculous than I could have possibly imagined.

[digiorno]

[The library intrigues him. There's a lot to explore here, but aside from the fact that this library itself functions as a convergence of timelines, Giorno has always been someone who loved libraries. They were an escape when he was younger, a place to burn time before going back to a home he didn't feel he belonged in; it was more or less by accident that he discovered the truths libraries could hold, in the blurry few days after flowers began spilling from his nervous palms, unbidden.]

[Some nights, he can't sleep. Every night, he's in bed in his own room by midnight, because he won't leave Fugo alone in the darkest hours whether they manage to actually sleep or not--but the hours between ten and twelve find him in the library often enough. Tonight he's poring through histories: unheard-of dynasties conquered, and how they fell. Occasionally he smirks, even laughs under his breath, at the text, as if it's a book of jokes rather than dry history (although sometimes they're the same thing, in his opinion).]

[Around eleven thirty, he reaches into his bag and pulls out . . . a chocolate pudding cup. And a spoon. Thoughtfully, and without looking, as though this is habit. Which it is.]

[selfimage]

[ there were libraries that Loki frequented, aside from the mortal ones sprinkled in Manhattan, there was the one in Omnipotence City. in a former life, shrouded in his own memory, Loki had been tutored there. Oska's high shelves and decorated corridors reminded him of it, if only at a lack of grandeur. the old gods knew how to build a library, but that wasn't surprising, the old gods were still as the new god were: made of myth and story. ]

Do you bring enough to share with the class? Another spoon would be acceptable.

[ he's certainly not alone, and that's evident from the certain someone who's arrogant enough to butt in on his personal time carelessly. Loki's not looking up from his book, which is a paperback held between his fingers, open at the spine with his thumb. his green eyes are trained more on the words than they are the pudding.

but he knows the pudding is there. ]

ASHER.

[selfimage]

[ where had he gotten this watch, you ask? well, let it be said that there are some things that Loki just can't resist, and one of those things is nosing around where he doesn't belong.

when he found the door open just a crack, he took it as an opportunity, sliping inside like a snake, while simultaneously discarding any and all consequences that may have come his way. there's too much arrogance in him to believe he 1) would be caught and 2) even if by some fleeting chance, he was, he'd be able to talk his way out of it.

when he found the room empty and ripe for the taking, he began to rummage around without concern. it's the clothing first, any shirts or jackets lying around. there's no pocket that was left unturned in his presence. while he's at it, he took a look at the state of the bed, the bathroom, and slowing began to piece together just whose room he may be imposing himself on, leaving promptly after.

it's always good to know your team members, isn't it?

and to get a good souvenir, while he was at it. he's admiring his new watch in the kitchen, sipping from a soda bottle, painted with a little smug look of satisfaction as the light catches the face, causing little pockets of light to dance across the walls. ]

[moneyballer]

[Asher's got a lot of very nice things lying around, his clothes all well-tailored and of the richest fabrics. Loki will notice that his things and room in general have a very particular odor, something akin to an expensive cologne. If anyone were to pay closer attention, they'd realize it's the scent that the 1L typically wears, although it's not quite as strong.

He strolls into the kitchen with a worried look on his face, eyeing the countertops and then checking the area near the sink, leaning in real close to inspect the stainless surface.

Upon realizing that he's not alone, Asher backs up and off the surface he was leaning on, addressing Loki directly.]

Hey man. Have you seen a watch lying around anywhere?

[selfimage]

Hm?

[ Loki looks half like he's paying attention when he looks up at Asher, before his gaze returns Very Obviously to the watch around his wrist. he twists it a little, as if admiring it from a new angle. ]

No, there haven't been any watches in here all day.

[ he's watching it like a movie. time to take a sip of soda. ]

[moneyballer]

Really? Cause I could've sworn-

[Kneeling down first, he decides to examine the nooks and crannies beneath the sink. He has a habit of collapsing and weeping openly in strange, dark places when he is totally wasted, so maybe he spent some time in here. The idiot crawls almost all the way in, although his rear is definitely sticking out.]

It was here somewhere...

[selfimage]

[ Loki watches from over the rim of his soda can as Asher dives into the abyss that is "under the sink." there's a small sense of satisfaction mingled with "this is too easy" while watching his rear move back and forth as he shoves himself deeper into the hole. ]

Perhaps it fell down the drain.

[ he leans his chin on his hand, showing the wrist that bears the watch. ]

[moneyballer]

[His head slams against a metal pipe that happens to be placed directly above him, a consequence of being too meaty to really fit anywhere this small. A frustrated noise escapes him, and he continues to groan and grumble as he clumsily wriggles back out.]

Ugh, seriously?

[Asher plops back on the floor ass first, rubbing little circles over a nasty bump that’s beginning to form on the back of his head. ]

Do you know if anyone's ever...

[he’s so re luctant god help him he can nut b da first]

Lost their Magitek?

[selfimage]

[ he's enjoying this far too much for his own good. Asher ducks, wiggles his ass, and plops back rubbing a bruise that he's sure is going to smart later. Loki cranes his head back to look at him, clearly set on being no help whatsoever. ]

Most likely not. [ Loki says it far too flippantly, waving his dark nailed fingers. ] It's far too important. It's how we communicate, after all, I'd certainly make sure to keep yourself under the radar while you find it.

I'm sure they'd find a unique way of disciplining you.