EVENT ★ SEASON FINALE

[futurologists]

ZYMANDIS CASTLE The castle -- no, the entire world, small as it is -- is too peaceful. It isn't the atmosphere one would associate with a villain's lair, even with it looking as sinister as it does. Crumbling chunks of earth float in the air, threatening to hit anyone who isn't paying attention to where they're going. It is quiet around them, like the castle is entirely without life. Cassie, Cherenkov, Crowley, Dagny, and Uruz stand beside Audentes, proud that their sister team has come so far. Each of them have offered words of encouragement, even the cats... in their own special way. Cassie is short and sweet: “Give 'em hell.” Cherenkov and Crowley have combined their efforts to create regeneration nanobots that whisper positive messages to one's psyche and gifted them to the entire team. Dagny says, “I couldn't be prouder of you!! You have done much good, and come so far, and your future is so very bright, and -- oh, may I please hug you?? I'm going to hug you now!” and sticks gold star stickers on the foreheads of various team members. Uruz says, “Pull through, Audentes! You've always been brave, headstrong, and united! This will be nothing for you lot, nothing at all. But be careful, if only for me. I want to see you all again after we're through.” The group pushes forward. The moment they do, a loud, brassy sound blares throughout the castle grounds. The world comes alive again. Enemies begin to scale down the castle walls, pop out of windows, and burst through the doors, which slam shut behind them. A dragon circles above, raining fire down upon its enemies. A small squad of goblins brandish swords. Some enemies look human but pale, frenzied, hungry; they're out of control. Others resemble Qorral bandits. The enemies call back to their past missions in some way. A way of letting them know Zymandis had been one step ahead every time. ALASTAIR was simply the cleaning crew, picking up the mess they left in their wake. Halfway through the battle, a small, pale creature with inhumanly large eyes manages to make his way through the crowd (mostly) unscathed, waving a white flag he seems to have fashioned himself out of his own clothes, judging by the large hole in his shirt. He looks too thin and too tired. He falls to his knees. “Please, o Holy Liberators!” he exclaims, kissing the ground near their feet slavishly. “It does not want to be here anymore. It wants to go home. It has information the Liberators must want. It will give it to them.” ALASTAIR strikes a deal with the creature, who reveals his true name to be Edgar, although Arbatel -- the Leader -- refers to all of his servants as nothing but 'it'. Edgar draws a childlike map to a mine entrance not far, and explains that the mine itself connects directly to Arbatel's laboratory. “It has-- I... have cleaned it many times. Master was captivated by the mines. Master had men in the mines day and night.” His voice drops to a whisper. “The Liberators need be careful. The mines claim many lives. Master does not care if they are dangerous.” With that, the group has a new plan. Some of the other teams stay back to distract the rest of the fighters, but Audentes and Kittypaw continue on. After all, Audentes is their little sibling team. Even though Audentes has been a full-fledged team for two years now -- time certainly flies! -- they've still got to look out for them. It's time to head to the mines. THE MINES The trek to the mines is a hard one. The group has to be careful to avoid lava geysers and giant, seemingly bottomless chasms, as well as panicked, violent animals. By the time they finally make it to the mines, there's a good chance their legs are aching, but there's no time to rest. Dagny has brought along a few potions she brewed herself that will help dull the ache, however. Inside the mines, no one has to worry about lava geysers. However, vision is obscured, and there's a feeling of gloom hanging over the area. After all, the mine did claim many lives. Some might even pass some bones, if they're unlucky. Arbatel isn't interested in sending corpse clean-up crews. The danger of the mines becomes apparent when Audentes and Kittypaw meet their first challenge. The twists and turns of the labyrinthine mines begin to break up the group. With the teams separated, Audentes will find themselves feeling... angry. Perhaps vengeful. As if there were spirits influencing them. They will begin to turn on whoever they're with, deciding now is the time to air their grievances. (This can affect all characters in a thread or just one.) Only once characters are aware they're being controlled will they be able to resist, and only once they are able to strongly resist will they be able to break the spirits' hold on them. But be careful: if you stick around too long afterwards, the spirit might try to take vengeance on you. Audentes and Kittypaw finally manage to meet back up when the paths converge once again, but their luck does not last for long. Cassie leads the group fearlessly ahead, but is forced to stop when a shadowy figure crawls in the darkness. And another one... and another one. The large beetles and spiders who live in the mine have come out of hiding, surrounding the team from all angles. Their bites are venomous, and they spit acid that burns to the touch. Their skin is hard, like metal, and nearly impossible to pierce. It's no wonder so many miners lost their lives down here with these monsters preying on them. The numbers are too overwhelming and the creatures too strong. The group has no choice. They have to run if they want any chance to get to Arbatel and the TIMELINE.exe. The creatures follow in fast pursuit, hungry for their next meal now that Arbatel is no longer sending miners to their dooms. The more they run, the more apparent it becomes that escape is futile. It seems there is only one option left: become these monsters' food. At least, that's how it seems; the group stops, barely fighting off their attackers, and Cassie says, “Go, now!” She reaches into her pocket and shouts, “Hey! Over here!” as she runs in the opposite direction, diverting the creatures' attention long enough for the team to get a head start. She takes her hand out of her pocket and raises it, holding an explosive. “Eat rainbows and die!” Flamboyant as ever, her explosion causes a beautiful, swirling rainbow effect, knocking Audentes over. When they regain their bearings, the area where Cassie and the monsters stood is caved in. Cherenkov, Crowley, Dagny, and Uruz are quiet for the rest of the walk. The group finally comes across an area of the mine that is significantly more sculpted than the rest, hollowed out around a large, glowing crystal. Around the crystal is a catwalk, with a ladder leading up to it. On the catwalk are tables containing various arcane items, blueprints for inventions, computer parts, and other strange materials. This is certainly Arbatel's lab. Now it's time to find the man himself. FINDING ARBATEL The castle is falling apart on the inside, too, despite the servants he has put to work. Some of them resemble Edgar, but others seem to belong to other species; some are even human. All of them are pale, malnourished, and cower in Audentes's presence. None of them appear to have any sinister motive or put up any sort of fight, although they're all too afraid to speak as well. The castle is full of oddities: a bookshelf full of books in languages no one has ever heard of, paintings with colors no one has seen before. It's worth it to inspect everything. In fact, one inspection in particular is particularly lucky -- one removal of a book from a bookshelf causes a wall to slide back, revealing a set of stairs that ascend upwards. Hey, all secret lairs need a secret door. Start up the stairs, and a woman in gold and white armor appears at the top. She waves her hand and the wall quickly slides back into place, blocking the staircase again. Except, unfortunately, for the two who happened to be in front: Jon and Loki are now trapped on the other side of the wall with the mysterious woman. No matter how many books are removed, shuffled, or shoved back into the shelves, the wall won't open again. The team will have to find another way to get through. Meanwhile, Jon and Loki are left alone to confront the woman, who introduces herself as Hagith. She is Theodor Arbatel's younger daughter and, unlike her long-dead sister Ophiel, completely loyal to Zymandis. Enhanced with cybernetic bones and organs, she is gifted in magic and is a dangerous foe even for Jon. While they're engaged in battle, an older man appears from a door just beyond the landing. Loki, sure this is the man they've been looking for all this time, wields his sword of truth at the ready... As for the rest of the team, poking through the rest of the castle will eventually find a small passage behind a painting -- it's six feet up and roughly the size of a ventilation shaft, so the only way to get up there is teamwork, and the only way to get through is by crawling, one by one, through the pitch black labyrinth. The passageway conveniently ends right on the other side of the wall, where -- luckily for the claustrophobic on the team -- there is a lever that will make the wall slide back again, revealing the hidden stairs. It's just in time, too: a wounded Jon stands over the dead knight, her windpipe crushed, watching as Loki needles a distinguished-looking man with Gram, the sword of truth. It's a disquieting scene, but it's necessary: the man is Arbatel, the Leader of Zymandis, and he owes ALASTAIR some answers. “This blade is doused in Dragon’s Blood,” Loki says as he turns the sword in Arbatel’s wound; “it forces someone to tell the truth. It always hurts.” Arbatel gazes at his daughter’s body as he answers all questions posed to him, both from Loki and from those shouted from the expedition: His true name is Theodor Arbatel, and that has always been the truth. He comes from a world that he has long since forgotten, his lifetime lengthened to thousands of years by personal experimentation with a sort of proto-magitek. The longer he lived, the more chaos he saw in Zymandis’s attempts at solving the Cataclysm; it would be better, in his eyes, if the entire multiverse were purged and purified, allowed to start anew, instead of simply bandaging an already sick and chaotic thing. And when he updated the TIMELINE.exe machine, its new calculations only proved what he thought: the universe would start again if ushered to a total collapse. As the rest of Zymandis followed his machine’s update, he rose through its ranks to become the Leader; those who didn’t believe in the truth were executed or run out of Zymandis until a faction that would become ALASTAIR stole an earlier version of his creation and fled. Including, he notes with distaste, his daughter Ophiel. His quest to end this tainted universe and usher in a new, better universe had millions -- possibly even billions -- of casualties, he estimates. He recalls all the miners he remorselessly sent to their deaths in the pursuit of the temporal crystal in his laboratory. Arbatel has studied such crystals for centuries; there are many types, he explains, but only one of this particular kind. It is the only one capable of undoing all of Zymandis's work. His life's work. He would send ten times as many miners to die if it meant protecting that crystal. He would have killed his own daughters. As Arbatel’s confession continues, he becomes more and more affected by the blade of Gram, as to suffer this blade is to suffer the truths one has denied. The way he has twisted his own nihilism into being the only truth, refusing to look for other alternatives, ignoring the pleas of his elder daughter. As Loki told him, the truth hurts. And in this case, the truth has killed Theodor Arbatel. He falls to the ground, lifeless. With this bloody business done, there's a few minutes to rest and patch any lingering wounds. The rest of the expedition begins to filter in at this point, missing a few of their number and looking a little rough around the edges. From the ex-Zymandis agents' wristwatches, the Ophiel AI speaks: the TIMELINE.exe is in the next room. TEMPORAL STORM Behind the door, now unguarded, is the Mechanical Room -- a gigantic warehouse stuffed with cables and gigantic computers and hundreds of CRT monitors. The room is warm and there's a constant whirring of machinery, ever present but quiet enough that it can fade into the background like white noise. Upon entering the room, recruits will be greeted by the monitors all flashing threatening messages in unison: GET OUT and INTRUDERS and ALERT, among others. Outside the door, Arbatel and Hagith's jewelcomms beep frantically: the TIMELINE.exe is asking for assistance that will never come. Thankfully, the corrupted TIMELINE.exe machine has no actually effective means of defense, so ALASTAIR is free to do what must be done: upload TIM's new update, the ver. 1.0.03 file. Installing the update is a simple task, but will require every ALASTAIR recruit's participation: extend one's jewelcomm toward the TIMELINE.exe, and the magitek will do the rest. The interfacing is ephemeral and beautiful, strands of visible code streaming through the air like beams of sunlight. It only takes a moment, and once it's done, the TIMELINE.exe's screen go dark. And then, a second later: Hello World ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ It's a success: Zymandis's machine has been overwritten by TIM. Without a leader or their destruction-focused TIMELINE.exe, Zymandis is dead. But before there can be much excitement, TIM uses his new monitors to explain that there is still the matter of the impending destruction of this world and its universe, owing to the temporal crystal deep in the mine under the castle. The temporal crystal must be destroyed. The energy it saps simply to sustain its own existence keeps the universe fractured; when all of the research conducted by both ALASTAIR and Zymandis scientists is combined, TIM is able to hypothesize that shattering the crystal and releasing the energy into the universe will cause a surge large enough to charge a merging. After the Cataclysm, each universe continued to split into thousands of fractured universes, all nearly identical save for small differences. The energy meant to sustain one universe was now split across thousands, ebbing and flowing and never quite enough. The merging, however, would combine each of those identical universes into one... allowing them to run on full energy. In short: destroying the crystal should merge the fractured universes, allowing them to sustain themselves without ALASTAIR intervention. The solution is simple, but will require a lot of elbow grease: using materials found throughout Arbatel’s lab, create a positronic bomb and detonate the temporal crystal. The resulting explosion, as Arbatel said, will be the opposite of destruction. Once the bomb is all set, it’s probably a smart thing to head topside before its detonation. Don’t worry about leaving TIM behind -- his consciousness in this machine is linked with the machine in Oska, so he won’t be harmed. The same is not exactly true for the rest of the expedition. When the bomb goes off, there’s a blinding blue flash and a deafening silence. The world -- the universe -- no, the fabric of reality shakes and trembles; the sky swirls; the ground churns. It only lasts a handful of seconds, but the turmoil seems like an endless epoch. And then everything clears; the ravaged, once-crumbling world is still and silent. Though the platforms of earth still sail peacefully through the air, there is no more lava and no more shaking. The destruction of this universe has been halted. More than that, though, the instability of the multiverse has been halted. Instead of a sprawling, infinite multiverse filled with infinite timelines, the minutely different universes have been merged. This may result in some nausea or confusion as the expedition’s own minutely alternate realities meld with their own, though there won’t be any identity crises or conflicting memories. You’re still you. But more importantly, this means the multiversal energy crisis is over. ALASTAIR can use its rift machines without needing to conserve precious energy. You can go home, if you’d like... but you might want to head to Oska first. LATER... After what might have been the longest day of their lives, the group returns to Oska for a well-deserved celebration... after any injuries are tended to. They are, of course, commended by the rest of ALASTAIR for their bravery and dedication. There's a feast, but considering how tired everyone is, there's no wild party. Just quiet contentment. An older ALASTAIR member, a man with dark hair and a prim demeanor, stands up to give a speech. “For thousands of years, we have endeavored to right the wrong caused by the Cataclysm. Tonight, we have finally achieved that goal. ALASTAIR's purpose was solely to maintain order as best we could, even in the face of impossible odds. Now, that is no longer necessary. This is a beginning of a new and better multiverse... but it is an ending, too. I suppose it is time to disband ALASTAIR, once and for all.” The crowd murmurs. It's all a blur of words, but the general gist can be picked up. Should they really disband ALASTAIR? Could they? There isn't anything left for them to do, after all. We could all go home to our families. “This is not a loss. This is a win. I vote that today be ALASTAIR's last official day of operation. Those who agree with me, raise your hands.” A large majority of the crowd raises their hands. “The matter is settled, then. Tonight, we celebrate. Tomorrow... tomorrow, we go home.” He sits and resumes speaking to those sitting beside him, and it seems the discussion is over... until a red-headed girl barges in through the double doors, eyes wild. To say she looks frazzled is to put it kindly. “You guys have to hear this. The merging? It worked. No more energy being drained. But the universes, they're... having trouble adjusting, I guess. Look.” She projects her magitek onto the wall, showing clips of protests, fires, war. In one world, two queens vie for the same crown. In another, dinosaurs seem to roam the earth again. “We've gotta do something, right?” The room quiets. For a moment, it seems no one is going to answer her. Finally, a woman answers. “We've done all we can. It's time to stop interfering with other worlds. I'm returning home.” Others grumble in agreement. A select few disagree. The girl scowls. “Oh, please.” She gestures to Audentes. “You just saved the freakin' multiverse. And it's all gonna turn to crap if we don't fix it. So...” She smiles sheepishly. “What do you say? Partners?” OOC NOTES And that wraps it up for Season 1 of Futurology! The action portion of the log will last roughly five IC hours. If you have any questions about this log, please direct them to the dossier. We know it's a long one, so don't be shy! For those of you who will be staying with us on to Season 2, will be releasing a calendar on what to expect for the next two months sometime in late November. For those of you who are heading off at the conclusion of Season 1 or those who have dropped already, thank you for participating in our game! Futurology is what it is because of every single one of you. NOTE: HMD and AC will be posted on schedule (18 November and 1 December, respectively), so don't forget! Participation is mandatory if you would like to remain in the game.

Comments

cw suicide

[selfimage]

I was crying out, you were just to blind to see it! [ it bubbles up in his chest and feels like it's tugging at his heart. blood pumps in his ears and he almost chokes on the words. ] And when it came out, you dragged me through the streets as if it had been meant to hurt you.

This was never about you. [ he spits out the word.

but it was, and it wasn't. it was about that boy that he had become, that Thor had nurtured, who was free of the personality of Loki, but not the expectations. he had warmed his way into the heart of the Asgardians, and it made the pain too much when the plot had been revealed. ] Why would I want this? Why would I want to hurt myself? Why would I kill myself, if not for something else? If it's true that Loki only cares for Loki, then give me your reason.

[deemed]

Your madness and evil is reason enough! [And oh, how he hates to hear the lies, whispers his mind. How he hates his brother who only cares for himself and uses words to make Thor do whatever he wishes. He could do it now, he could raise the hammer (he does) and end him, and it would be a joy to do so-

As if stuck he staggers back. His blood is hot and the bloodlust sings in him, calling for a fight, calling for answers and something that he cannot name. But the visceral delight he'd felt only moments ago is gone, replaced with a nauseated horror. He has hated his brother, wished him dead- but he has never delighted in the thought of Loki's death as he did just then.]

Cease this, Loki! I feel your foul magic trying to ensnare my mind and it will not avail you.

[selfimage]

You wish this was my magic. No, brother, this is us.

[ his jacket billows beneath the sudden movement of his arms, and he opens his arms as if in a twisted offering. ]

This is all you and me.

[ there's a sharp intake of breath before he continues. ]

And about how you saw nothing because you were too angry, felt to unworthy for it.

[deemed]

[The arms open and his target is clear. He could take it. It's likely a trick (because everything with Loki is a trick of some kind) but Odinson knows he's fast enough to get the blow in.

He does not move closer. He fears that hateful and alien joy; he fears its return. He fears its inevitability, the path to a future they cannot escape.]

Since we were children together I have fallen for your tricks again and again! Each time you opened your hand to me I jumped willingly into the trap you laid. Did you think I would always do so? That I would never tire of playing your fool?!

[selfimage]

[ it's a challenge.

Loki calls him over with open arms, painting a target at his center. he's always been satisfied with the effect that he can have on Thor, either positive or negative, to elicit some visceral reaction. ]

It might be my fault that he died, but it'll be your hands when I do. I'm your brother now, and you can't change that.

[ you can blame me for it, he wants to say it but the words won't come out. they fill him to the brim with rage, cloud his ears with a great roar. he remembers that day (he'll never forget), the boy with the bird, the spectral with ambition.

I won, you lost. Never forget it. ]

[deemed]

[For all that he hates hearing lies from his brother, hearing the truth from his stings even worse.

The child is gone and this is what has replaced him. He is not the old, evil creature that Loki had once been, but neither is he how Odinson would have him be.]

He just wanted to be loved! He did all he could to make those around him like him! To be accepted!

[Static electricity has his hair rising across his arms, which tremble with rage and the effort to hold himself back. It would be good to kill him, whispers his mind. Even Loki wants it.

Deeper, there's a hazy memory, long-forgotten in the back of his mind. The future king Thor, old and grizzled and looking far too much like Odin for his liking, had said to kill Loki the first chance he got. It seems like good advice now.]

What have you done? Why should I love you as I loved him?

[selfimage]

[ no.

he's not the twisted old Loki, though there was a time when he thought he was meant to play a similar role. growth had been hard, but it was through self-sacrifice and pain that it had come about. what Loki had become was something different entirely. something that was both entitled to Thor's love, and unworthy of it. ]

I'm your brother, damn you! [ his voice feels raw. ] I don't have to do anything. [ then it trembles. ] You're not the only one that loved him. Do you know how it feels to finally like yourself, who you've become, and then be wielded as a weapon of your own twisted demise?

But you never cared. All you feel is your own pain.

[deemed]

[It's true, I never cared- I always hated him, always always always wanted him dead and buried-

The hammer drops from his fingers. If only his anger, his pain would so easily follow it.]

Aye, I feel my pain! For long ages I felt it, until to feel that pain was to be me. [At last he approaches his brother, hands raised to take him by his collar and- what? He doesn't know.] And I feel it because of you!

[selfimage]

[ for the moment, Loki holds his ground, set and still as Thor approaches. there's a bristle of his hair, his fingers clenching into fists, but he does not move. the stance is a challenge in itself, one that shows that he will not fight as a slap in the face of any violence that's directed at him. ]

So you want me to feel worse than I already do?

[ his voice drops and falters. ]

Will that make you feel better? Did it make you feel better?

[deemed]

[Yes, whispers his mind. Make him pay. Leave him to rot. Then I'll be free and happy-

Except that it didn't. It doesn't.

His hand stretches out between them, reaching for Loki's neck. It's not a choke, though. He sets his hand to almost cradle his brother's face. It's a gesture as familiar as his anger.

He's still tense. He might yet turn his hand just so to squeeze. His voice shakes as he speaks with the effort to keep from shouting.]

It would hurt me less if I loved you less, Loki.

[selfimage]

[ even when he tries to remain unaffected, he turns into something else. Thor reaches for him and his insides swell, there's a roar in his ears and his heart reaches his throat. the moment lasts for years, stretching across the space between them. Loki's so rigid that he trembles beneath Thor's fingertips. ]

...

I didn't ... I—I didn't want to do it ...

[ it hurts. ]

Thor, I messed up.

[deemed]

[Not Thor, whisper the voices with his own voice, he mocks me with my failure! Kill him! Squeeze! Choke! Put an end to the pain!!! But it is not him, those are not his thoughts. He strains against them, strains to be alone in his own head.

The worst is that he knows he wants to, some small part of him would be pleased to see the end of this.

His fingers flex against Loki's throat and there is a moment where it might go either way. It would be a simple thing, the work of but a moment. Gods do not die easily, but they do die. He hears the voice, louder now, of that future King Thor: kill him when you get the chance.

He hears also the child, begging him in that long-abandoned garden: kill me if I go bad. Promise.

It could be done. It would be a good thing if it were.

It would be a right thing.


Loki is not the child now, he is a man grown, but Thor's arms envelop him all the same.]

[selfimage]

[ Thor—he will always be Thor to Loki. there may be other Thors (since the days of Eric Masterson, there had been Thors), but to Loki it was embedded in ink scrawled across parchment, and he could not dislodge it form his brother so easily.

for the barest of moments he wills it: yes he whispers, finally follows after. the thought had crossed his mind too many times to bear, but he had never had the courage. he wasn't made of anything so strong. there's the knowledge that he may come back as something awful, but it had been such a hard road, could anyone blame him for his selfishness? (they could, and they always had.)

so he waits for it to come, but it doesn't.

instead Thor's weight falls upon him, wrapping around him so tightly that he wonders if he remembers what this kind of desperation from his brother felt like. his body trembles and he chokes. ]

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry ...

[ he means it, like so many other times that he didn't.

fingers twist beneath Thor's arms and around his back, holding on to him desperately. ]

[deemed]

[He lies! says the voice in his head, but Odinson knows it for a trick now. It is easy to resist the sweet pull of anger and violence as it tries desperately to remind him of all the terrible things Loki has done, all the lies he has told-

his shoulders lift as he sucks in a great breath, holding Loki against himself as he has longed to do for- oh, how long has it been? years. His brother is babbling apologies but they aren't important, not really.

They are both so far from how they were as children. He is not worthy, Loki has- been on his own journey. They are not the men they thought they would be. But they may yet have each other, a silver lining in this otherwise dark tale.]

I know, brother. [A hand cradles Loki's head. His composure is all but gone.] I am sorry, too.

[selfimage]

[ he is old Loki, and he isn't; he's the child Loki, and he isn't. it could be that he's a different Loki all together, and he's trying to work those details out. lifetime after lifetime had turned him into a twisted, broken creature that had accumulated traumas and poisons as he tried to work out his own life.

yet he still doesn't know what Loki is.

the anger turns to grief, boiling over the edges and into something else. it still hurts, no matter which. ]

... I never meant to hurt you, or ... damnit, Thor, that was the first time I liked myself. Now I'm this.

[ during his own self-destruction he had both wanted the satisfaction of being caught, and the sweet taste of forgiveness. his conscience had manifested and demanded blood for his child self, and he had gotten it. it was the end days of the villain Loki, who could no longer sustain the role of pure evil in a stolen body.

he should be thankful for that. ]

[deemed]

[The words resonate with Odinson- the first time I liked myself-

It was something he had struggled with, wavered between boundless self confidence and that lingering fear that he was not worthy. Now he felt he had neither... but that was not wholly true anymore.

For the first time he thinks of what it must be to be Loki now, to have the past hanging over. His stomach curls.]

For what it is worth, you are yet my brother. [We will make it well is what he had told the child. He doesn't not think he can say the same now.]

[selfimage]

[ in the end, he could not escape what he was—he could not escape Loki. neither the child nor the former villain, he was something else, and he could not find where he reconciled between the two, if he did at all. ]

Whatever that is worth.

[ it's a joke, a bad one, but something that pierces the overhang of the anger that hovers above them. it doesn't feel enough to rid them of it completely, but it's something that gets a wry chuckle from him. ]

Look at us, the children of Odin.

[deemed]

[The chuckle sets him stepping back, far enough that he can see his brother's face while keeping a hand set at his neck.]

We are both of us a long way from where we began. [It's not mere distance he means; they're not the men he expected they'd become. Even months ago- they're not what he could have predicted.]

I'll say this for you. At least you're not father. [Is that... a joke??? Someone stop him.]

[selfimage]

[ the rush of emotion has left Loki overflowing. there are no tears, but his eyes are red and glassy, and his face flush with the grief of the outpour. with jokes and flippancy he can find a way to center himself again. Thor pulls back and Loki rubs at his face with his palm, tipping his head. ]

I'd rather be an old, ugly, wrinkly Loki than father.

[ then there's a partial laugh that comes out as a little bark. ]

When I set out to make certain that we did not become slaves to our own story again, I thought of you. I know, Thor, you never wanted to be our father.