epidemiology | OPEN. NEVER HAVE I EVER (INSERT THING NEVER DONE HERE).

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OPEN. NEVER HAVE I EVER (INSERT THING NEVER DONE HERE).

CHARACTERS: Open! Starring Dean Winchester & Loki as your fantasy sitcom heroes.
DATE: October 9th
WARNINGS: It's Dean & Loki, so it's bound to get lewd. Also drinking. Tread carefully, but if anything rears its ugly head, I'll add it.
SUMMARY: Never Have I Ever at The Den. Live before a studio audience.

It's been a week since the sun had gone, and the darkness is enough to begin to drive anyone mad. There was little headway to be made, and the darkness seemed cause enough for the bad blood between the humans and the goblins to boil. With tensions high, and suspicions raging, an occasional retreat was welcomed, especially in the form of food and alcohol. The Den is bustling, filled with those roaring and laughing, drinking away whatever ill feelings needed quenching, and looking for something to do while the sun remains absent. There are lanterns and candles to keep everything well lit, but causing a variety of interesting shadows to creep along the walls. Servers weave between benches and tables to go about their duties to feed and water hungry patrons.

There are two of ALASTAIR's inter-dimensional travelers sitting at the edge of an unsurprisingly empty bench toward the back of the tavern. One of them, clad in a tacky green jacket and golden horned diadem, looks cocky enough to be crossing his legs at the knee. There's a shirt hung over his neck like a victory scarf. His companion, a short haired, broad shouldered fellow, seems to have lost his shirt entirely. There's a bottle between the two of them, and shot glasses on the table filled with a clear, amber liquid.

They're loud enough to be heard.

"Never have I ever been known as Chisel Chest in any form," Loki says with a hint of a smile that tugs at the end of his lips. He leans his elbows on the table, weaves his black-tipped fingers together, and rests his chin on his folded hands. He feigns disappointment. "That makes it your drink." He holds up his shot in toast.

There's plenty of room on the bench for anyone who wants to join them.

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You can tell yourself whatever you like.

[ hey Dean, Loki may be eye-raking you for a brief moment there over his shot glass. congrats. ]

Me? I'm a god of chaos, a god of lies and mischief. Do you know what chaos means? It means change. You can argue over what's right, but there's something that you're missing. Something that's important.

[ his mother had sold his future because of what she thought was right for Asgard, and he would never forgive her for it. ]

Freedom, and freedom to change.

[ not only does he tell himself what he likes, but he firmly believes in it, too. how could he not? he's never been in the business of saving people for the glory.

he raises an eyebrow at Loki's self-description; an excellent reminder that while Dean would rather view him as an ally given their current situation — Dean's made some dubious goddamn alliances when the situation called for it — he'd do well to sleep with one eye open around Loki. so to speak.

he smiles, a hint of self-deprecation in it and opens his hand in invitation. ]

Welcome to team free will then, friend. The job's an endless, thankless, uphill goddamn battle, but once you're on board that boat, there's no giving up on it.

[ Loki's bright eyes go to his hand, and after a moments pause, he reaches down to to take it, snaking dark nailed fingers around his. his hand is heavy to those who'd pay attention, a little different than shaking a hand of anyone more human (or it could be minds playing tricks to the knowledge that someone was inhuman). ]

Team Free Will? You'll need a better name. I'm sure I can come up with a few.

[ betrayals and loyalties were different to him. there were people to betray and loyalties to ideals; some twists between the two made him selfish, and others made him noble. while he never asked anyone to trust him, he always hoped they would, even though he never really trusted himself to uphold it. being open about what he knew he was, untrue or true was it was, both created a wedge to those who would immediately shun him, and those who may at least trust him for what he was.

being in a cage, by any definition, was an anathema for him. gods knew such things intimately, and while he'd hold on to the bars and struggle against them until his fingers were bloody, there were others that were content with them.

there was Asgard, and his mother, who would have him as something he was not. there was Odin with his representation of the grand patriarchy and all it upheld.

he was Loki, and he would rather be nothing than lay dormant in any cage made for him. ]

Regardless, you seem to have found yourself in the right place.

Aw, you don't like it? And here I thought it was super cute.

[ previous team free will had included an angel banished from Heaven, a comatose old guy who ended up in a wheel chair, a blood junkie who also happened to be his brother, and Dean himself — self-claimed high school dropout with barely two cents to his name. at first look, a whole lot of loser material.

this time, it seemed like it was gonna include the same high school dropout with still no money to his name and ... a Trickster.

still didn't look like a winning combo to Dean, but at least this time, he had experience to back him up. ]

Ya think?

[ he downs his drink. ]

How so.

The multiverse is our oyster. [ a pause. ] Kind of. We may beneath the influence of a dubious organization right now, but that doesn't mean that the situation is an less favorable.

[ but Loki could make most things favorable. it was one of his powers. between words as weapons and manipulation as a means of getting what he needed, he could twist almost any situation to meet his needs. ]

Ever dealt with free will on a cosmic level, Mister Dean?

You don't trust this ALASTAIR either, huh. Yeah, well. I don't plan on staying under their thumb for too long.

[ ALASTAIR is also the first entity to ever pay Dean to get the job done.

which is precisely why he does not trust it, all semi-truths about their missions aside. ]

On a cosmic level? Hell, no. I got my goddamn hands full with just the one planet, thanks. Why? You got some, ah ... cosmic experience you wanna share?

[ there's a faint snort from Loki's end at the at the whole bit where Dean thinks that he can wiggle his way out whenever he chooses. ]

That the freer you think that you are, the closer you find the cage.

[ he picks up another shot glass. ]

That's a horrible way to see things. And the fastest way to self-defeat.

And what would you have? Thinking that you're free, while ignoring the cage? The self-defeating path is only self-defeating if you give up.

[ his mother had decided his fate for him, made a deal with an evil future Loki to wrap up Asgard's story in a neat little package. it, of course, stripped him of his future and his freedom, and damned him to everyone's expectations.

he'd show them. ]

And I don't plan on doing that any time soon.

The only cage there is the one you make for yourself, man. Won't lie, it's the worst kinda cage, the hardest to break out of — some never manage to.

[ he raises a glass and observes it, stares at it as if it might hold the truth of the universe in it.

not in a glass of whiskey, Dean. ]

Unless the cage you're talking about is destiny. If that's the case, you can defeat it. It'll cost you, but if you aren't planning on giving up like you say ... it's worth every damn second of it.

[ of course it's worth every damn second. else, Sam's sacrifice would have been in vain, and Dean can't stand that idea. ]

[ he had more on the line than he had ever had. his very role, the sacrifice he made of his very self, and remade himself into something that he least expected. now that he had settled into that role, knowing that he could die and be reborn as something terrible, it only fueled his defiance. ]

I don't think you know the half of it.

[ his voice sounds like it's lingering on the edge of exhaustion when he speaks of it. ]

But you're mortal, so of course you don't.

Do you know what destiny is, Dean? Obviously if there's something pre-written, there must have been someone doing the writing, hm?

[ he frowns, offended. ]

Don't you dare diminish my experience because I'm "mortal". This destiny crap had its own plans for me — for my whole damn family, in fact. Sure, I broke it, but I lost everything for that to happen. And I ain't getting back a single shred of what I lost.

[ his voice cracks a little at the end of his sentence — that won't do. he'll gulp down a shot of whiskey. whiskey always makes everything better. ]

I know what destiny is. And clearly the one doing the writing was an asshole. In my case, none other than God.

Who's been writing your destiny, Loki?

[ hit a nerve, did he?

it wasn't a diminish of experience to him, but he finds it curious that Dean takes it that way. no matter the angle of the deconstruction, gods and mortals were different. Loki could make arguments on how, but it was about how the universe affected them. Dean dives into experiences, and Loki watches the sudden rush of offense take him over, his voice cracking with the swell of emotion.

but he knows as well as anyone: what's lost never comes back, but you can change it.

there are bright green eyes that watch his movements before going back to his face. who's been writing his destiny? his mother, his father, the expectations bogging him down, forcing him into a box and a role that he didn't want, his own mistakes and slip-ups, the knowledge that in the future, he would be the same ... ]

The same one who writes everyone else's. This omniscient divine fellow with a fluffy beard on a cloud doesn't get the ideas all on his own. Think bigger, Dean.

Destiny is a story we tell ourselves, the ones we tell others; it's the expectation of those that we've met when we turn our backs; it is the roles and the ideas of resonance, rippling out through the multiverse. [ he leans forward on his elbows. ] Haven't you wondered where those ideas come from? Why they catch? Why those who've stumbled upon ALASTAIR carry more similar traits than not? Here we are in trying to affect the dominoes, all while being dominoes ourselves.

[ he folds his dark nailed fingers together. ] That's what destiny is.

[ hit a very raw nerve indeed. that loss he's talking about is still quite fresh for him; his father, all his friends and allies. his brother.

when Dean frowns again, it's more pensive than offended though. ]

The omniscient divine asshole on his cloud's as big as it gets for me, man. And just that one guy was enough to make my life — everyone's lives, honestly — miserable.

[ he sucks on his teeth, thinking. ]

So you're telling me that the recipe for destiny [ the tone here is scathing ] involves way more ingredients than what people usually assume. A whole lotta cause and effect, in fact. 'Cause if that's the case...it's gonna take much, much more work than I thought. How do affect the dominoes if you're one yourself? And if you can't do that— [ a brief pause, while he tries to get his idea across ] you're a god. Aren't you guys supposed to have a say in all this? A way to act against it?

[ Loki's tone gets low and mirthless. ]

No, not usually.

Gods are dictated by ideas, myth and thought. They are confined to roles and follow stories that have already been written. [ it's probably for his former words: "You don't know the half of it." ] Stories generally dictated by that resonance. The universe already has ideas, and they vibrate outward.

There are ways, some of us look for them more than others. Some are content to carry out their lives without any means to a free future, content in their chains.

So everything comes around full circle, huh. Someone writes the story and universe feeds off of it, and then pukes it back out, sorry for your puny ass if you happen to get caught up in it, huh.

[ "without any means to a free future", "content in chains" — that just makes Dean shudder in disgust. both the notion of living a life in shackles and, more horrifyingly, the notion of giving up so completely that one would find contentment in chains.

hell no. ]

I can't do that. I could never live like that.

It's as you said; mortals have more power than they realize. Stories do have to come from somewhere. Fate has to react to something—ideas don't just poof out of no where.

People feed into them and give them power.

[ instead of taking the shot, Loki puts it to his lips and sips it. ]

[ he nods slowly. ]

So that's how you were born, huh. People needed what—? A bad guy? A guy with dubious morals? Or an anti-hero who wants to break the cosmic chains of fate?

[ the tone is half jest, but, more importantly, half serious. ]

I know the power stories — and wishes — can have. Rarely ends well. i'd hate to think that I'm nothing but the product of some story that jumped the shark, you know?

Oh, no. I was born in the ice trenches of Jotunheim—well, kinda-sorta. [ he holds out his hand and shifts it back and forth. ] There's been countless rebirths since then, so who knows?

But, as you can see, it's a bit more complex than that.

[ Loki tests the alcohol in the shot glass by dipping a finger into it, looking nonchalant. ]

Who knows? Maybe you are.

Countless rebirths, huh.

[ Dean leans back, a half smile on his lips. ]

So you're just like Highlander? Never age, never really die, and you remember all your previous lives? Gotta wonder just how convenient that is.

[ there's a nagging feeling in him. something that swells up to a different time before he arrived, before he ran away. he—one of him—had taken advantage of a glitch in the system, a way to turn a new incarnation into a former one.

but it didn't turn out that way.

he had just killed a child—one who was himself—at the behest of a wicked scheme of a former incarnation—one that he thought was himself.

one that was no longer himself. ]

It's not convenient at all.

[ he neither confirms, nor denies the legitimacy of the claim. ]

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