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

[selfimage]

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.

Comments

[selfimage]

That depends on the witty retort that may or may not involve my poor performance.

[ with an elbow on his table, he tosses his fingers whimsically in the air. he doesn't seem to have any expectations, but he does seem to be enjoying the little game. ]

And if we can find any glow sticks. This place seems to be curiously low on them.

[dailydouble]

Are you the god of poor performances, perhaps?

[ It likely doesn't sound like it, but this would be a legitimate question in Ahad's own universe. Even if that would make for a rather pathetic godling. ]

Why you would want a stick that glows is beyond me.

[selfimage]

Oh, you would think.

[ Loki says it with a smile, but there's some truth behind it. it would be easier if he were the good of failure, living up to all those wonderful expectations of his own downfall.

he twirls the shot in his hand. ]

But no.

The stick, however, is for the novelty. It glows while you—erm—dance. Not the euphemistic kind of dancing.

[dailydouble]

None of my siblings claim the title, but there are a few I would be willing to nominate for it.

[ There's no lack of truth behind his words, either. Loki may have picked up on the fact that Ahad doesn't like his family very much. Since he's been so subtle about it.

He's not going to pursue with asking what Loki is the god of, either. That leads to a dangerous road that ends with having to admit to being the god of love. ]

I suppose that would be less dangerous than candles. For the non-euphemistic kind of dancing.

[selfimage]

[ who likes their family? love, perhaps, but like? even the love thing had taken a while. Loki had always been an outsider, and it was recently that he'd felt any amount of warmth toward his family. ]

It would only be proper for family. It was my father that nominated me, but it's been a bit of a stretch since then.

The old man has his moments.

[dailydouble]

While I would nominate my 'father'. [ There's a pause for Ahad to sigh, looking somewhere between annoyed, amused, and something else? Distant, maybe. ]

Any of them, really.

[selfimage]

All of them, perhaps. Why not?

[ Loki doesn't press, but it's not to say he wouldn't if he didn't want to be pressed, himself. which he doesn't. talking about the surface is easy, but there's a hurricane of complicated feelings beneath that. ]

It's your turn.

[ he looks curious. ]

[dailydouble]

[ He'll shrug it off, also unwilling to discuss this topic any further. Ahad understands not wishing to be pressed about certain things. The trouble with this game continues to be finding something to say that isn't terrible. ]

Besides drunkenness, the point of the game seems to be to keep the table in good cheer. I can think of little to say that would allow it to continue to be so.

[ It's partly a polite refusal to play this game, but also a small window into how horrible Ahad feels his life experiences are. Also, Loki's likely to have overhead him telling Dean that he never had a name for most of his existence. While he sounds apathetic about it all, nothing in his expression indicates that pity will be tolerated. ]

[selfimage]

[ he picks up on it, lifts his glass and twists it in his wrist. ]

And we're not even gifted with the former.

[ Loki puts the shot to his lips and takes it with an easy elegance that would somehow deny the burn of the alcohol. there's no pity, no wince, and if there is something, he keeps it to himself.

instead he turns to look at him. ]

We can always go out with a bang. Never have you ever tied your balls to a goat.

[ he twirls his finger in the air. ]

[dailydouble]

The former is...difficult. Unless I make an effort. [ If he ever looked to alcohol as an escape, that time was long in the past. Now he usually treated it as a conspicuous reminder of his wealth and power, with this current situation most definitely being an outlier.

The goat thing only gets a raised eyebrow. ] Willingly or unwillingly? And would you count any domesticated animal of similar shape?

[ There's an undercurrent to the conversation that is almost dangerously sharp. ]

[selfimage]

[ there's a moment that Loki puffs out and looks a little defeated. an arm leans on the table and he dangles his shot by the rim, watching the amber liquid slosh back and forth for a moment. ]

That one's usually odd enough that it doesn't get any bites.

[ and a few chuckles, but way to go, Loki. ]

But it was willingly, yes. A myth passed down by the mortals. Myth me needed to find a way to bring cheer to a glowering maid's eyes. So, well ... yes.

My memory's a bit foggy on the whole thing. There have been so many deaths and rebirths and I couldn't tell you how right they are about it.

[dailydouble]

[ If Ahad ever felt bad about what he said, this would be one of those moments. All he does is shrug, acknowledging that he's ruined the mood. ]

I was a slave for two thousand years. The rest of the story writes itself.

[ He'll wave a hand, as if dismissing the topic. ]

[selfimage]

[ Loki taps his finger against the shot glass. when he speaks, it's less about curiosity and more about perspective. ]

Was it mortals, or was it gods?

[ there's a million others that it could be, but he tries the obvious. there are many ways to make a god a slave. ]

[dailydouble]

[ The discussion has reached the level of abstraction for him. He wasn't there, but he knows the story well enough. ]

They were brought low by a god, trapped in human form and given to the god's favored mortal family. I did not exist until that point.

[selfimage]

[ Thor was turned mortal to be taught humility. Loki had taken a mortal form while Odin was trying to hide them from Ragnarok, but the gods were never given to mortals. they were bound enough in ideas and roles, and taking another step to ensure bondage seemed excessive. ]

Both, then.

[ Loki looks contemplative, fingers to his lips. ]

Why?

[dailydouble]

Is this a night for stories, then?

[ Ahad seems contemplative himself, and not unwilling. ]

[selfimage]

Well, it's not a night for games.

[ Loki leans his chin on his palm. ]

If you're willing to share, of course.

[dailydouble]

A moment. [ This calls for a round of something more substantial. Ahad will leave the table for a few minutes, eventually returning with a bottle of what's likely some form of local whiskey. He'll top off a glass, before beginning. ]

This is the story as it was told to me, or as I managed to piece together. I will likely leave out smaller details, but the general shape of it is telling enough. [ He'll sip at his drink, then continue on. ] At first, there was nothing but the Maelstrom, vast and unknowable. Eventually, for reasons beyond our understanding, it gave 'birth' to something that managed to live beyond it. This was Nahadoth, who lived for untold eons in the protouniverse they created by repeatedly ripping themselves apart. Nahadoth was alone, until a second being was born from the Maelstrom. This god named himself Bright Itempas and proceeded to fight with Nahadoth almost from birth, until the two [ Ahad waves a hand here, almost dismissively ] discovered that sex was more fun. Itempas brought order to Nahadoth's chaos, but it wasn't until their sister Enefa, goddess of twilight and life and death, was born that the universe truly came into existence. They proceeded to have many children, all of them strange and wonderful, and everything existed in balance for quite some time.

That is, until Itempas in his jealousy murdered Enefa, leading to a war among the gods. Nahadoth and the godlings that sided with Naha lost. Itempas imprisoned Nahadoth and those of his children he couldn't bear to lose in human form, giving them to the Arameri family as slaves. [ It's not an entirely fair explanation, but then Ahad isn't much interested in being fair. ] I was Nahadoth's human prison, for two thousand years. If there is an explanation as to why I developed a separate consciousness, I haven't heard it.

[selfimage]

[ those are primal ideas: order, chaos, life and death. it's like fire and ice, and the substance produced when they met over the yawning void. there was nothing, and then there was everything. despite being a god, he knew that the Asgardian's own cosmology was tentative at best. it wasn't that he didn't believe it, but that there were certain things that came into conflict, while both could be true. there were memories inside of him that could account for so much.

he puts his elbows on the table, fingers intertwined as he listens. given, he doesn't look dubious or critical, just rather thoughtful. he's had his own toss ups, both with this sort of thing, and with the identity thing. ]

The god of order ... produced chaos? [ he can buy it, but it takes a moment for him to parse it out. ] Well, quite the jealous fit.

As for you ... do you care? How you produced consciousness? Sometimes there is life just in story. For beings like me, at least, it seems to hold enough ability.

[dailydouble]

Itempas was not entirely himself. Perhaps I'm being slightly unfair to him, but I cannot make myself care that much about it. [ It was a combination of being completely alone for a moment and the loss of his demon son that caused Itempas to go mad. The situation was complex, but Ahad wasn't interested in exploring that right now. The basic facts did not change; Itempas went mad and killed his sister, then enslaved Nahadoth and their children so that they could never leave him again. Having a reason for his actions did not excuse the actions themselves.

It takes a moment, before Ahad addresses Loki's last questions. ] It is not something I think much of. [ This may or may not be true. ] It did not happen to Sieh or the others. They were forced into human shape, but did not develop a separate human conscious. It could be that Nahadoth was greater than their children or simply because a god of darkness cannot exist where there is nothing but day, but I do not know.

[selfimage]

[ Loki's mother had reasoning too—making all of Asgard better. despite that, she still threw him under the metaphorical bus, so, no, he couldn't bring himself to care much, either. it was always easier to sacrifice chaos, to demonize it and cast it away. ]

Sometimes ideas are more corporeal than the physical, and a vessel for the divine can never be empty.

[ —I am the crime— ]

That much I've had experience with.

[ —that will never be forgiven. ]

[dailydouble]

Ah, but I was empty. It took caring and love, for me to develop a soul and become more than a hollow shell.

[ He's not at all bitter, he says bitterly with a bitter expression. ]