🐍 loki odinson 🐍 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dothelokimotion) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-10-09 06:11 pm
dothelokimotion) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-10-09 06:11 pm
Words they always win, but I know I'll lose
who: Loki + You
what: Memoriessss
when: During October
where: Dreamscape / First person visions
warnings: Attempted suicide, will add if others come up
[ Thor and Loki ]
[ Everything in this memory is golden. The firelight that flickers across the halls, the play of shadow and warmth. Even Loki’s shadow does not seem intimidating to Thor’s boisterous yell for “Another!” as the cup smashes into the open firepit. They stand together, as close as brothers can be. Joking, laughing. Thor’s loud voice remains a direct contrast to Loki’s smooth steady tone. As a servant hands Thor his helmet, Loki watches him swallow, the only hint of nerves in his indomitable brother. Loki starts with a low tease, drawing out another chuckle and jest from Thor.
“I was being sincere!”
“You are incapable of sincerity.”
“Am I?”
“Yes!”
There is no sign that Thor’s words bother Loki. After all, Loki is perceptive. He can often read between lines. His voice is low and soft, but unwavering.
“I have waited for this day as long as you have. You’re my brother and my friend. Sometimes, I am envious. But never doubt that I love you.”
Thor clasps his hand over Loki’s neck and again, it is old jokes between them. As it has always been. ]
[ Letting Go ]
[ Sometimes it changes. Sometimes Loki loses his grip. Sometimes Thor is holding his hand and he lets go. Sometimes it is Odin . . . the variations are endless as they play on his psyche. This time, it was different. It feels fresh, like he’s seeing it for the first time. The Bifrost shatters, an explosion of every colour that all vision goes blind and it seems it will never recover. He’s screaming, or believes he is when his flailing arm connects with Gungnir and Thor grasps the other end —
— And there is Odin. The three of them, hanging off the edge of the world. He wants to cry, his face crumpling. This was it, his shame painted across Asgard in red. But this was his father. Just moments ago, Loki killed Laufey for him. Surely, surely, his father will understand. He must. He has to.
“No, Loki.”
And like that, a calm descends upon Loki’s face. Ah, it seems to say. No more lies. The wind and the Void howls but Loki can hear nothing. Thor is begging, but Loki cannot see. Slowly, his grip loosens until he releases his fingers from Gungnir.
And he falls. Until all the stars are blotted out. Loki thinks he hears Thor scream but the Void has swallowed the sound whole. ]
[ Loki and Odin ]
[ Odin’s command comes too late as Loki rests his hands on the sides of the Casket. Even with his back turned, Loki’s voice comes as a hissed whisper, full of quiet anger and confusion, ready to spill over.
“Am I cursed?”
Odin says no, claiming Loki is his son. But Loki is no longer convinced. Not longer uncertain. He turns around slowly, feeling the taint of blue skin as he walks closer. Loki carefully disassembles Odin’s words until Odin starts telling the truth. About Jotunheim and Loki. Laufeyson. Loki’s face crumbles as it goes on, barely holding onto his calm. The monster that people tell their children about at night. Finally, one feeling wins and that is rage, pure and unadulterated. Loki screams at his father, each step more threatening than the next, even as Odin falters, barely on his knees before he collapses. Loki’s expression cracks, all the anger wiped clean. He bends to reach out to his father, to ascertain his health —
— But he’s afraid and his fingers stop short. Loki is scared to touch his father, knowing the truths that were just imparted on him. After a few seconds, Loki lets his hand rest on top of his father’s, watching the quiet heave of his chest before he calls the guards in a panic. Guards, help him! Please! ]
[ Loki is crowned King ]
[ It is a beautiful chamber, golden and bright, but not overwhelmingly so. And it is a large bed that takes up the space in the room, Odin’s quiet breaths barely heard over the stillness. Loki and Frigga sit on opposite sides. Loki seems muted, dwelling on something while Frigga tells him that she asked Odin to be honest from the beginning. ”There should be no secrets in the family.” For a terse few seconds, Loki says nothing before asking, ”So why did he lie?”
Frigga’s reasoning is clear. "So that you would never feel different. You are our son. And we love you. You must know that."
Loki’s expression doesn’t change. They discuss Odin’s state as Frigga rubs the All-Father’s hand reassuringly. She advises him not to lose hope. For his father. For Thor. It is the topic of Thor that has Loki’s expression tighten, hard to read. Finally he decides to get up, walking away with purpose from the bed. It’s clear he’s had enough, that this is too much for him to discuss anymore. But his head jerks up at the sound of the doors opening. The Einhenjar stand at the entrance and bow, their hands clasped to their chest. Loki stares, stunned as one of the oldest of Asgard’s advisors stride into the room and stand in front of Loki with . . . Gungnir. He bows and Loki’s expression creases in confusion and fear before he turns to his mother.
“Thor is banished. The line of succession falls to you. Until Odin awakens, Asgard is yours.”
Loki continues to stare. He’s lost, even as he turns back to Gungnir. The advisor raises it higher but Loki does not reach for it. Does not even think to do so. The sound of crows can be heard as Loki carefully raises his head and lets the advisor deposit the spear into his open palms. His fingers curl around them loosely, a strangeness seeping into his veins.
“Make your father proud,” Frigga says with a faint bow, “My king.”
Finally, he tightens his grip on the spear, something akin to a smile, but it’s awkward and it falls flat as his eyes widen. King.
what: Memoriessss
when: During October
where: Dreamscape / First person visions
warnings: Attempted suicide, will add if others come up
[ Thor and Loki ]
[ Everything in this memory is golden. The firelight that flickers across the halls, the play of shadow and warmth. Even Loki’s shadow does not seem intimidating to Thor’s boisterous yell for “Another!” as the cup smashes into the open firepit. They stand together, as close as brothers can be. Joking, laughing. Thor’s loud voice remains a direct contrast to Loki’s smooth steady tone. As a servant hands Thor his helmet, Loki watches him swallow, the only hint of nerves in his indomitable brother. Loki starts with a low tease, drawing out another chuckle and jest from Thor.
“I was being sincere!”
“You are incapable of sincerity.”
“Am I?”
“Yes!”
There is no sign that Thor’s words bother Loki. After all, Loki is perceptive. He can often read between lines. His voice is low and soft, but unwavering.
“I have waited for this day as long as you have. You’re my brother and my friend. Sometimes, I am envious. But never doubt that I love you.”
Thor clasps his hand over Loki’s neck and again, it is old jokes between them. As it has always been. ]
[ Letting Go ]
[ Sometimes it changes. Sometimes Loki loses his grip. Sometimes Thor is holding his hand and he lets go. Sometimes it is Odin . . . the variations are endless as they play on his psyche. This time, it was different. It feels fresh, like he’s seeing it for the first time. The Bifrost shatters, an explosion of every colour that all vision goes blind and it seems it will never recover. He’s screaming, or believes he is when his flailing arm connects with Gungnir and Thor grasps the other end —
— And there is Odin. The three of them, hanging off the edge of the world. He wants to cry, his face crumpling. This was it, his shame painted across Asgard in red. But this was his father. Just moments ago, Loki killed Laufey for him. Surely, surely, his father will understand. He must. He has to.
“No, Loki.”
And like that, a calm descends upon Loki’s face. Ah, it seems to say. No more lies. The wind and the Void howls but Loki can hear nothing. Thor is begging, but Loki cannot see. Slowly, his grip loosens until he releases his fingers from Gungnir.
And he falls. Until all the stars are blotted out. Loki thinks he hears Thor scream but the Void has swallowed the sound whole. ]
[ Loki and Odin ]
[ Odin’s command comes too late as Loki rests his hands on the sides of the Casket. Even with his back turned, Loki’s voice comes as a hissed whisper, full of quiet anger and confusion, ready to spill over.
“Am I cursed?”
Odin says no, claiming Loki is his son. But Loki is no longer convinced. Not longer uncertain. He turns around slowly, feeling the taint of blue skin as he walks closer. Loki carefully disassembles Odin’s words until Odin starts telling the truth. About Jotunheim and Loki. Laufeyson. Loki’s face crumbles as it goes on, barely holding onto his calm. The monster that people tell their children about at night. Finally, one feeling wins and that is rage, pure and unadulterated. Loki screams at his father, each step more threatening than the next, even as Odin falters, barely on his knees before he collapses. Loki’s expression cracks, all the anger wiped clean. He bends to reach out to his father, to ascertain his health —
— But he’s afraid and his fingers stop short. Loki is scared to touch his father, knowing the truths that were just imparted on him. After a few seconds, Loki lets his hand rest on top of his father’s, watching the quiet heave of his chest before he calls the guards in a panic. Guards, help him! Please! ]
[ Loki is crowned King ]
[ It is a beautiful chamber, golden and bright, but not overwhelmingly so. And it is a large bed that takes up the space in the room, Odin’s quiet breaths barely heard over the stillness. Loki and Frigga sit on opposite sides. Loki seems muted, dwelling on something while Frigga tells him that she asked Odin to be honest from the beginning. ”There should be no secrets in the family.” For a terse few seconds, Loki says nothing before asking, ”So why did he lie?”
Frigga’s reasoning is clear. "So that you would never feel different. You are our son. And we love you. You must know that."
Loki’s expression doesn’t change. They discuss Odin’s state as Frigga rubs the All-Father’s hand reassuringly. She advises him not to lose hope. For his father. For Thor. It is the topic of Thor that has Loki’s expression tighten, hard to read. Finally he decides to get up, walking away with purpose from the bed. It’s clear he’s had enough, that this is too much for him to discuss anymore. But his head jerks up at the sound of the doors opening. The Einhenjar stand at the entrance and bow, their hands clasped to their chest. Loki stares, stunned as one of the oldest of Asgard’s advisors stride into the room and stand in front of Loki with . . . Gungnir. He bows and Loki’s expression creases in confusion and fear before he turns to his mother.
“Thor is banished. The line of succession falls to you. Until Odin awakens, Asgard is yours.”
Loki continues to stare. He’s lost, even as he turns back to Gungnir. The advisor raises it higher but Loki does not reach for it. Does not even think to do so. The sound of crows can be heard as Loki carefully raises his head and lets the advisor deposit the spear into his open palms. His fingers curl around them loosely, a strangeness seeping into his veins.
“Make your father proud,” Frigga says with a faint bow, “My king.”
Finally, he tightens his grip on the spear, something akin to a smile, but it’s awkward and it falls flat as his eyes widen. King.
no subject
[ Still this was a lot of work, even for Natasha. There is an angle here, a story Loki couldn't quite put his finger on. He knew enough of Natasha's background to make a few guesses and Barton had told him everything. There is the itch to dig deeper, to tug on old wounds until all the secrets spill, but Loki was in a precarious position himself. He was rubbed raw, seeing his father again. Seeing himself as . . . a monstrosity. His other self had helped push that guise down, hidden from view but Loki knew it was close to the surface. ]
They will never understand. It is better kept from them. Let them see what they want to see and keep the rest away.
no subject
[She's still not quite sure if that makes Natasha kind or not. There have been times where she's nearly wished that Natasha hadn't, hadn't worried about protecting her or saving her. That night had been rough, all fire and ashes and things she still couldn't entirely remember, but it's still one of the softer pieces. Softer as long as she doesn't touch what Natasha had saved her from, anyway. If she's honest she'd rather Loki had seen a scared little girl than the bitterness, the anger and hurt of just a few years ago but that still seems so small.]
It's not their life. I can't really expect them to. It makes the people from the other world almost easier.
no subject
[ Though Loki hasn't met any other Asgardians save for his other self. It would certainly more jarring to meet the other Thor or Warriors Three and Loki is glad to have avoided that pitfall. Loki doubts he could handle seeing another Thor very well. Or any other amalgamations of Asgard. ]
You would know better than I. My conversation with her was . . . brief.
[ Even if Loki knows her history, her past. ]
no subject
But Barton told you everything. You might not have talked to her, but you still know more about her than most.
[Her tone is careful, even with that echo of sentiment about Barton. Because there are parallels in Natasha's secrets and her own, and as much as she likes Loki more than she should, she doesn't really know how much she's willing to tell, those secrets and half-truths that crackle in the blue of her eyes.]
no subject
Not as much as you, I believe.
no subject
She's trying to weigh this, figure out how to play this.]
Is that a question?
no subject
I suppose it is not. Yes, you could say I know the Widow better than most. Though I doubt that is a designation she is comfortable with.
no subject
No, I guess not. But she's not much of a sharer. I wouldn't imagine she's particularly comfortable with anyone she doesn't choose knowing her secrets.
[Not that she really has to imagine. She's seen it aimed at herself, she's felt it, the anger and the feelings she tried to hide.]
no subject
[ Both Loki and Natasha have sacrificed comfort for the sake of survival. Paranoia. The edge. Neither of them will ever truly give that up, though perhaps the longing is there all the same. ]
no subject
[It's an easy answer, even if she seems a little sad for it. She knows Natasha a little too well -- her Natasha, at least, even if she's a little less aware of the differences -- to not care. She knows her pain in an intimate sort of way.]
no subject
I imagine that leads to the way she behaves here. It is not an excuse, but merely . . . a layer.
no subject
[Which is to say, she hadn't seen Natasha back then in the same way she had by now. There's a sort of certainty to how she talks about it. These are things she's sure of, not empty suppositions.]
It doesn't really make it easier. We had too much in common for her to really forgive me.
no subject
[ Loki has learned to bury it instead of letting it get to his head. And while it never goes away, at least it no longer fully controls him. Everyone needs breathing room. Even Loki. ]
no subject
[But clearly that hadn't quite worked out, in the end.]
no subject
It is a sweet lie at the start.