riverviewlogs | ( closed ) let's dance

Entry tags:

( closed ) let's dance

who: Steve Trevor & Loki
what: enjoying Tavernfest by having drinks and dancing
when: now
where: starting at some bar
warnings: none; will update if need be

[ Following Loki's directions isn't difficult, particularly considering how long he's spent studying the streets and getting lost all around the Quarantine over the course of his first few weeks here. Having the name of the place helps too, so if he happens to get the streets mixed up, he simply asks some passer-by for help.

Eventually he gets to the bar Loki picked, stepping inside and taking a look around. It's not too modern or overly sophisticated, but it doesn't look cheap either. He especially likes some of the decorative elements, the swords and shields hanging on the walls. Shrugging off his jacket so he's down to his trousers, shirt and vest, he starts looking at the people in there, spotting a striking figure by the counter with her back turned to him— and he makes his way over, keeping a good distance until he's sure he didn't get it wrong. ]

Loki?

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Ah. That does explain a lot. [ Her anger and masked discomfort, for one. Not that Steve had felt particularly happy about their situation, himself. Especially when she actually worried him for a moment that he might get stabbed. ]

I spoke with the other Loki. Well, we... texted? [ Is that how people say it? ] No more than that.

[ As long as Steve knows he can better acquaint himself with Angela next time, hopefully gaining her good humour. ]

What did he say?

Nothing much. [ He shrugs. ] We talked about second opportunities, and optimism. I guessed his identity so now he owes me a pair of boots.

He's at an awkward age.

[ Said almost apologetically. ]

[ He smiles faintly, shaking his head. ]

I didn't find him terribly disagreeable. But then our interaction was short. [ That remark piques his interest, though. ] Is he that bad?

He's better than a great multitude. Usually, we're evil.

[ She hitches up a wan smile at that, choosing to pick at her food with interest rather than look at Steve. ]

Be honest with him and he'll value that above everything else.

I do always try to be honest. [ But he admits, after a pause. ] Here, anyway.

[ Here he has no reason to lie, to keep up pretenses or act as though he were someone else. One of the many blessings of this place. ]

You don't seem evil to me. [ He tips his head a little, watching her and her averted gaze. ] Seems too literal a word, anyway. We all have a bit of dark and a bit of light, I think.

Um, no. I was the literal God of Evil for a while, he was ... a couple of lifetimes ago.

[ She hitches up a smile, squaring her shoulders. ]

I'm better now, obviously. Mischief is a more accurate take on chaos, evil is predictable. Perhaps that's why I'm not mad, I don't want to veer too far out of the grey area.

So is he still in that whole Evil phase?

[ Is that how it works with gods? Stages of evilness, phases of madness? Sounds a little... well, Steve doesn't know what to call it. Gods are strange. ]

Gray area isn't so bad. And if it works for you... [ He shrugs, wiping his hands after finishing his burger. ] Anyway, are you having that chocolate cake?

The other Loki here isn't a bad person, he's just ... frustrated.

[ Sticking a fry in the middle of her cake, she pushes it between them. Picks at the chocolate with her fork. ]

What do you think?

I could sense a little of that.

[ Even over text, it was hard to miss. but he hadn't been overtly hostile, so.

He glances down at the cake, taking that as an invitation for him to help himself. After a moment of pondering, he picks up the fry, dragging a bit of the sticky chocolate frosting with it. ]

No day like today to try new things. [ He shrugs and mouths the fry, letting the sweet and salty flavors mix together. ]

You're gross.

[ But she grins as she says it, notching some of the cake on her fork to reach over and, deliberately resting her chest on the table in full-view, of course, offer him a bite. ]

Try the core, it's thicker.

[ He shrugs at the accusation, humming around the fry. But she wins with her next move, of course, and it's but a moment before Steve's blushing while trying to avert his gaze from her cleavage.

He tries to play if off by leaning in and taking that piece of cake, but then it dawns on him that she pretty much just fed him, and he may or may not be blushing even harder now. (But if he isn't, it's only because he can't.) ]

Mm, [ He nods, swallowing down the cake. ] Very sweet.

It's been said.

[ The flirtatious purr breaks into a sunny smile as she sits back. ]

What about you, Steve, are you like Angela with a long lost love awaiting you back home, or are you a roaming shameless decadent like me?

[ He narrows his eyes. ] I may be gross, but you're terrible.

[ The question that follows lowers his mood considerably, though. For a moment he looks almost surprised at the question. There's an easy answer to that, of course, which is the first one he gives. ]

There's nothing for me back home. [ He is dead, after all. ] I did... I do care deeply about someone, but I never got to know if my feelings were returned. And now she's here too, but— she doesn't remember me, or what little time we had together.

[ He almost wants to laugh bitterly, but he simply shrugs, resigned. ] Fate must be trying to tell me something.

Why don't you ask her on a date, like I did with you? You're both alive here and that counts for something.

[ Loki and Steve being goners back home is a depressing chain of thought she refuses to dwell on. ]

Come on, who is it? I'll ask her out for you, woman to woman. [ Casting a wrist over her forehead, Loki puts on a swooning, singsong voice. ] Ooo, that Steve Trevor! Why, I do declare, his nose sets my heart a-thuddin'! Have you seen his knees? His elbows? What a catch!!

Yes, well, I thought about that, but— it's just... it's complicated. [ He shakes his head. ] The war's not over for her. She thinks about going back more so than anything else, and trust me... she somehow manages to do everything she sets her mind to.

[ And Steve's a coward who is too afraid of having her, then losing her again the moment she has a chance to go back. ]

Oh my God— stop! [ At least she manages a laugh out of him. He waves a hand and shakes his head at her. ] Stop. You will do no such thing. And I'm not telling you who she is, or you might just embarrass me horribly.

His toes are indescribable ... !

[ Sharing a chuckle, she lowers her arm to offer him a hand. ]

You seem to me, in every way, more important than winning a hundred wars, Steve Trevor. If I can see that, then surely she will too.

You haven't even seen my— oh. Never mind.

[ He did wake up on her bed. She probably saw his toes then. And quite a fair bit more of him, too.

Now he's blushing for entirely different reasons. He huffs, looking away for a moment, but letting a hand drop to land close to hers. ]

God with the silver tongue, is what you are. [ He glances back to her finally. ] But I'm afraid you're being too generous. I'm not all that.

Sure you are. I trust it, and the stories we tell ourselves are the truest of all if we believe in them.

[ Her fingers waggle in earnest as she slides an enigmatic smile across the room to the dancefloor. The music is lively. ]

Take me for a spin?

[ From that perspective, she could make just about any story the truth. He wants to point that out, but doesn't. He takes the compliment for what it is instead, and moves on.

He glances across the room, smiling a bit as he spots a few people dancing. Doesn't take much thinking to oblige her, and he takes her hand in his, rising to his feet. ]

Come on.

[ That's how being a reality-warper works, Steve can ponder that again when there isn't some serious fun to be had. Hand in his, she hops to her feet beside him, visibly excited. ]

You're the second dance I've had since I came to the Quarantine. First time I asked Jason Todd, I don't know if you've met, and it was a very different sort of dancefloor. Have you ever been into the basement of Trixie where the club is?

Only second? That seems like quite a waste. [ He's heard there are a lot of festivals and parties around here, even if he hasn't experienced that many himself yet. If this holiday and the last festival are anything to go by, though, Steve hasn't been lied to. ]

No. I walked around the main floor, but never went down there. [ Once they get to the dance floor, he turns around to face her, lifting her hand up and stepping closer so he can place his other hand on her waist. ] What is it like?

I usually dance alone in the kitchen, truth be told. Morning radio. [ It's better than exercising, anyway.

Hand in his and one on his shoulder, she bops about to the beat in his arms, swaying them around. What's the point of a pretty dress if she can't make it flare a little? ]

Trixie is a brick building, the basement used to be a cellar. I opened it up and installed lights around the caverns, it's quite dark but you can always find your way up and out the stairs no matter what.

Ah. I enjoy that, too. There's a lot of new music these days, I like it. [ Well, some of it. Certainly brings cheer to his days, especially right in the morning.

The song is lively but it's not that hard to keep up with it. Steve's not a particularly skilled dancer, as she can likely tell, but at least he doesn't step on her toes. ]

Sounds cozy. [ A little too dark— or maybe he's not imagining it properly. ] And what sort of dancing goes on down there that's so different?

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