OPEN; memshare

[ikols]

who: loki 616
what: dreamscapes and visions etc
when: 9th-23rd oct
where: in his head I GUESS, poke me for a different memory.
warnings: thor being unworthy which is a warning in itself, mentions of murder and body-snatching.



i. mommy issues.

The throne is wide, huge, and yet she diminishes it with her authority, cloth-wrapped armour all blue and gold, Vanir and Aesir inexorably torn. She is majestic ... and not who Loki was hoping to find.

'All-Mother Freyja sits on the great throne today. To dispense her judgement.' She glowers at him from upon her high perch, barely holding her fury in check. His broken arm requires Loki to grasp it close to his body as he limps closer, Thor's beatings having taken a toll; Freyja ignores his injuries. 'I heard every word the Odison said, Loki. I heard the charges laid at your door — that you are not Loki at all. Merely an echo who stole his corpse. I heard a grizzled, snivelling apology — the lowest and cheapest coin of all. But I heard no denial. Is it true, then?

'Is it?' Freyja sits, stares, and seethes.

Loki's jaw is locked with anger, then from between his teeth he answers with a hiss.

'Aye. And don't pretend it isn't what you wanted.' Stumbling forward, he lets the injustice power his limbs when they threaten to fail, banked fury thrown back in Freyja's face. She looks every inch indignant, as if she hadn't planned to fucking sacrifice him without knowing he wasn't that innocent little boy. 'You wished to bring back the eternal villain to help shepherd your perfect Asgard into being? Now he stands before you, as hated as ever! Even though you should thank me! Thank me for keeping your lily-white hands clean! All of you!'

His voice reverberates as he doggedly goes on, snarling as Freyja's shock turns to horror. She would have murdered a man who had been a child she loved, twisted him into a psychopath, and now Loki is worse than that? No. No, he said he was sorry, he has been sorry all the years he has drawn breath outside of a beak.

'Your precious little hero — your "Kid Loki" — will never rot in the cage you built for him. He had the luxury of dying as himself.'

Freyja blanches, his would-be Mutilating Mother gripping her chair in shaking fists. 'Be — Be silent —'

Loki's anger is keener than the shining gold of the throne, throwing the rest of the room into shadow around them so that she can't look at anyone but him, can't witness anything but the truth.

'NEVER! Why such fury, Mother? Because now you can't betray him? Because you'll never get to turn him into me? Or into that monster, that "King Loki" you keep in your dungeons? Because I robbed you of that pleasure?'

'ENOUGH!!' The All-Mother's rage lights up the throne-room to cast off the shackling shadows, burning away any truths save those she can stomach. 'You — thou viper in the nest of eagles — thou contaminant —'

The blast of power she aims at Loki drowns out his screams with a thundering VAKROOOOM and all he feels is fire, the flames eating him alive as he tries to hold his ground, pulled in every direction at once by searing agony.

Freyja takes aim once more.

'Thou art no Asgardian! You are a fetch, a doppleganger, an imitation of a dead god! A copy of a coward, doing a coward's work! YOU HAVE NO PLACE HERE! And as long as you live — you never will! By the throne of Asgard — by the powers of Vanaheim — I banish thee, carrion-eater! I name you exile! Begone! BEGONE —!!'

Loki falls into nothing, suffocated into white-hot heat, and everything burns.

In the cold, hollow aftermath Freyja drops her head into her hands, and everything hurts.

ii. do you even lift bro.

They are wreathed in spells and enchantments that strip them bare, Thor to his most undesirable and Loki to pure hope; he longs to help end this madness, ensorcelled or not, and Mjolnir is light as a feather in his grip where he stands over Thor on the moon. Golden. Worthy.

'Now will you admit we can change, brother? Now will you work with me to save us both? Now that you have finally walked in my shoes? How does it feel, Thor, to be the fallen?! To be the failure defeated by the noble hero? How does it feel to know —

'— I AM MORE WORTHY THAN YOU!'

The moon's surface explodes into scarlet light as the spell of alignments is tipped back to normal on Earth, inversions resettled by a witch and a doctor whose power resonates throughout reality to affect even the gods. Two brothers are blasted off their feet and Loki crawls to look up, seeing once more the screaming face of an innocent little Boy.

'No ...'

I AM THE CRIME THAT WILL NOT BE FORGIVEN!

Loki drops the hammer.

'No!'

Thor burbles stupidly, face-down in moondust. He is no longer evil but he is still Unworthy, and that is hardly a grand step down to take. 'What trickery is this? W-Where —? What have you done to me?!'

Loki stares at his hands and the hammer at his feet, ignoring the rumbling rage. He feels less sickeningly righteous, more level-headed, and yet he knows he cannot lift Mjolnir now. He knows it in his bones. He isn't sure he's disappointed.

'I defeated you! I — I was the God of Thunder —!'

Thor sneers. 'I recall no such thing.'

Loki rounds on him desperately. 'You remember — You must!'

'Certainly it is another lie, from the Prince of all Liars. And in poor taste, at that. You must learn, Loki,' says Thor, as Loki drops to his knees by Mjolnir and the Odinson pushes to his feet, abandoning both where they have fallen, 'there are some stories none will ever believe.'

iii. can't sell me what i've got.

'ATTENTION, ANGELIC FLEET! This is your Mistress of Strategies speaking! Do you read me?'

'HUZZAH!'

From her position in Thor's chariot, Loki contacts the thousands of warriors standing ready in their warships behind, huge golden behemoths containing the most well-trained Angels that Heven had to offer. Ahead of them sits Old Asgard, wreathed in protective barriers that Loki is probing from afar via twists of green magic. The answering cheers on the battleships ring out into space.

'In a moment we will move forward with the full might of our invasion force to destroy Asgard forever!'

'HUZZAH!'

'We will give them no warning! We will massacre them in their sleep! Including the children!'

'HUZZAAAAH!!'

'Especially the children! Small children and babies! I want to stress that! Baby murder will happen! At almost tedious length!'

'HUZZAAAAHHH! Smite the evil before it grows!'

'So if anyone doesn't want to slaughter tiny babies in their sleep — you can back out! No blame attached! In fact, I'll pay you. Anyone?' Silence. 'Anyone at all? Bueller? Can't say I didn't try.' She sighs and touches her fingertip to a point in space, 'There! The weak point is found! Aim at that spot and Odin's barrier will shatter! All units, CHAAAAAARGE!'

Honestly, that was just hela-fun to yell.

Battleships rush the barriers simultaneously and ... explode in a similar fashion. The Angelic general next to Loki in the chariot stares, aghast.

'What — what just —'

'The Asgardians no longer live in Asgard. Odin sealed the Golden Realm off.' And all that fuss about finding a 'weak point' to disable, well. Just pantomime. 'It was a little less invisible than yours but no less impregnable ... Well, until I threw a few billion megatons of exploding warships at it. Now it's wide open.'

'But — But our invasion fleet is gone! Destroyed! Why would you ever —'

Loki rolls her eyes and reaches for the hilt of Gram at her hip, the general staring at the carnage of her sisters burning to death.

'Because I'm a traitor, silly. Not the sharpest sword in the armoury, are we? If it's any consolation, I'm sure the Queen has less gullible invasion forces. I think she palmed me off with the thicko squadron.'

'You — You foul, worthless — We took you in! We gave you fair payment!' The general has every right to be upset, of course. She screams. 'We gave you a family —!'

She chokes on her own blood as Gram's blade thrusts through her heart, silenced as Loki looks on with an unreadable expression, her sword-arm steady.

'Yes. But I already have one of those.'

Comments

i

[hititwithacrowbar]

[ And here he thought his family had issues. Jeeze, poor Loki. With his hands in his jacket pocket he blinked a bit unsure about all of this. Seeing something so raw and emotional, and utterly private. He felt bad for the godling. ]

People don't really see thing's like that as a blessing, I suppose. [ He hated being awkward, but seeing a god had family problems to? Yeah. How did one process that? ]

[ikols]

[ Who's awkward? Not Loki. Super casual, that's the look he's going for. ]

What do you mean, getting zapped by your mom? Can't say it felt like a blessing.

[hititwithacrowbar]

[ Everyone's cool as Fonzi here.]

Yeah, that. That seems like it was a bitch. So, I have to ask, I thought Loki was just Odin's blood brother, I didn't know there was any relation to Freyja.

[ Norse Mythos was easier to remember with clothes on.]

[ikols]

Myths vary, as do realities. I was adopted as a prince of Asgard to be Thor's little brother, whereas Odin wedded Freyja to keep the peace with Vanaheim. She's Vanir with a stain of Aesir now, and has ruled as the Triumvirate All-Mother, as well as the actual one, with Gaea and Idunn for a while when Odin was, ah, elsewhere.

It's all a bit convoluted, I know.

[hititwithacrowbar]

You know, I should be completely lost, but... I kind of understand what your saying.

[ Jason looks at him a little more serious.]

Still, If I ever see her, I'll put a bullet in her for doing that to you.

[ikols]

That's very sweet, but ... don't shoot my mother, Jason.

[ Only Loki gets to stab his family, maybe not that deeply. ]

iii

[hevenly]

[ The battleships are instantly familiar to Angela, and having already seen the other Loki's memories in a dream, she can quickly guess what is at play here. Her sometimes-sister, riding on Thor's chariot towards Asgard. She watches the events unfold, stone faced, only a slight upturn of her lips a clue as to her emotions. ]

So that is what you were doing while I was busy fighting the Odinson.

[ikols]

I had to unfetter father somehow from his self-imposed bonds.

[ Not awkward at all, hello there sista. ]

Anyway, you heard them. They were the type to kill sleeping babies! Hardly a grand loss.

[hevenly]

Not any babies. Asgardian babies.

[ As though that makes a difference. It's only a halfhearted defense of her sister Angels, but she feels the need to add it just the same. ]

[ikols]

I really don't think anyone who has to debate which baby to kill is anyone who deserves mercy, even if they were taught to hate that specific sort all their life.

[ This is one firm look. ]

Let's not go there, sister.

[hevenly]

No, perhaps not.

[ It's not like the Angels are particularly redeemable in that aspect. ]

[ikols]

I didn't enjoy it, you know. It had to be done.

[ For so many reasons. ]

slams this down

[deathkid]

[ nico's not keen on sharing his memories with anyone, once he hears about what's going on. but for some reason, his mind rebels against him, sharing a crucial part of his past in a way nico never would've wanted. a memory of croatia. a memory of pain.

it's set in the ruins of an ancient roman palace. columns and stone are strewn about, and among it all stand two boys. one is bright, all blond hair and piercing blue eyes. the other is dark, shaggy black hair and black clothing. and as the scene progresses, it's clear there's a third someone hiding somewhere among the rubble.

suddenly, something comes zooming out of nowhere and all around the boys, columns begin tumbling, walls begin collapsing. the blond boy stumbles, but it's the boy with dark hair that steps forward, swinging an arm out in anger. ]

Stop it! It's me you want! Leave him alone!

[ the blond collapses near nico, who steps forward, his sword out. he stands as tall as he can, but there's clearly fear in his eyes.

then, suddenly, from seemingly nowhere and everywhere at once comes a voice. it echos in the ruined palace, bouncing off stone and wall alike. nico, clearly the dark haired boy, whirls around to try and find the source, but fails. ]

Poor Nico di Angelo. Do you know what you want, much less what I want? My beloved Psyche risked everything in the name of Love. It was the only way to atone for her lack of faith. And you—what have you risked in my name?

[ despite being invisible, it's clear who's speaking: cupid. god of love. and nico glares, snarling at the unseen god. ]

I’ve been to Tartarus and back. You don’t scare me.

I scare you very, very much. Face me. Be honest.

[ next to nico, the blond pulls himself up. but as he does, the ground shifts. the grass at his feet begins shriveling up and dying. the stones at their feet crack, as if something is trying to work its way to the surface. ]

Give us Diocletian’s scepter. We don’t have time for games.

Games?

[ something slams into nico, and he hits a nearby crumbling wall. ]

Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work—a quest that never ends. It demands everything from you—especially the truth. Only then does it yield rewards.

[ next to nico, the blond stands, glancing over at his shaken companion. ]

Nico, what does this guy want from you?

Tell him, Nico di Angelo. Tell him you are a coward, afraid of yourself and your feelings. Tell him the real reason you ran from Camp Half-Blood, and why you are always alone.

[ screaming suddenly, nico lashes out. it's all too much. the attempts at attacking cupid, the being mocked for what he feels, what he is. shame sickens him and skeletons erupt from the ground, crawling to the surface as his emotions erupt. many are dressed in either togas or roman armor. ]

Will you hide among the dead, as you always do?

[ waves of darkness roll off nico, slamming into his companion and making the area around them colder. what's left of the grass at his feet shrivels and dies, frosting over. his skeletal minions get a grip of something unseen and begin grappling with it. ]

I left camp because of love. Annabeth, she—

Still hiding. You do not have the strength.

[ one of the skeletons is smashed to pieces. the boy next to nico makes placating gestures. ]

It's okay, Nico. I understand.

No! [ nico's face is awash with misery and pain. jason can't understand. he doesn't know what cupid doing, ripping the truth out of him this way. the truth is still muddled and jason's probably thinking what anyone else would think. he wouldn't even consider the real truth. ] You don't! There's no way you can understand.

And so you run away again. From your friends, from yourself.

[ nico trembles and the skeletons go back to grappling with cupid. the undead have cupid pinned, but the god merely laughs. it's cold and mocking, making nico tremble harder, ducking his head so that his expression is covered by long, dark grecian curls. out of sight, trying to hide again. ]

I don't have any friends! I left Camp Halfblood because I don't belong! I'll never belong!

[ jason steps forward and obviously he wants to provide a hand, do something to help nico, but there's confusion in his features, as if he doesn't know what to do. and in truth, he doesn't. because this is a situation he doesn't understand. ]

Leave him along, Cupid. This isn't...

[ shaking harder, on the verge of tears, nico looks up at his companion, a mask of pain and suffering covering his features. his face is paler than usual, making it white as the marble around them, and it's clear from his pleading expression that he doesn't want this. ]

I- I wasn't in love with Annabeth.

[ and then, to jason, it makes sense. the blond boy merely gives nico a sympathetic look, understanding beginning to shine in his bright, blue eyes. ]

That’s why you didn’t want to be around her. Especially why you didn’t want to be around... him. It makes total sense.

[ all the tension, the fight, everything seems to melt out of nico. the darkness fades, the roman soldiers crumble to dust, and nico wraps his arms around himself as if that's the only way he can find solace. when he speaks again, his voice cracks as he chokes on a dry sob. ]

I hated myself. I hated Percy Jackson...

[ his voice is like shattered glass and a tear rolls down his cheek. that's when the memory fades. ]

[ikols]

[ What an ultra-teenage dream, hot diggity. Leaning against one of the ruined pillars Loki arches a brow, his words light but his attention on Nico's echo as the scene plays out. ]

Ten points from Gryffindor, Cupid's a dick.

[deathkid]

[ it takes a moment for nico to find where the voice is coming from, much less how loki seems to be in his memory-dream. but once he does, he blinks and turns towards the godling. his shoulders are slumped, his gaze cast down to the cracked marble at his feet, and he sighs. ]

I... yeah. Sorry. I didn't mean for that to get dropped on you. It's kinda heavy.

[ikols]

All Jasons, meanwhile, are both cute and dependable. He seems nice. Nicer than Jackson?

[ Although Loki is more likely to be a fan of a dungbeetle than Percy Jackson, at this rate. ]

Dream-walking seems to be all the new rage.

[deathkid]

Percy's nice, he's just... I've never given him a very good reason to trust me. I was always doing things to keep a wall between us and it's not really his fault.

[ for a few seconds, nico chews his lip. he's not sure why he feels the need to defend percy. maybe because he knows that percy is a good guy, if a bit kelp-brained. ]

Jason, though. Yeah. He's a good friend. He kept my secret afterward and kept insisting I'd have people support me if I told the truth. I just... it took a while for that to sink in.

[ a shrug, and then. ]

Normally I can control my dream walking and who walks into my dreams, but this...

[ikols]

[ A curious gaze flits over the surroundings, wondering what became of Cupid. ]

It's happened to me a couple of times already, no fear. I found myself in Jason Todd's head the other night.

[ ii ]

[dothelokimotion]

[ His breath hitches. He lifted the hammer. Such a thing seems impossible — beyond the realm of fantasy. But it happened and another Loki could lift the hammer. But that is not the only thing that catches his attention. The Boy. Loki is too smart not to put the pieces together, and he always had an inkling, a clue nestled in the back of his mind though he did not speak it. ]

Will forgiveness ever come?

[ You would make me a happy man if you would accept my love, Thor had said not long ago. Loki buckled under the weight of those words. ]

[ikols]

No, the Boy is dead. He can forgive no one.

[ He stands where he is on the moon as dream-Thor walks away and takes off his circlet. It doesn't have horns but wings and, without any heroism in abundance, it looks rather twee as he fiddles with it; the whole outfit does. ]

How much did you see?

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki considers the sweet lie before dismissing it. ]

How did it feel? When you lifted it?

[ He can't help the note of longing in his voice. ]

[ikols]

It felt ... good, in a bad way. Like a bath of honey instead of a teaspoon, too much to satisfy a craving yet more than enough to create an addiction.

[ He shakes his head thoughtfully, frowning at Mjolnir where it rests in the dust. ]

Empowering and maddening.

[dothelokimotion]

[ Even so, Loki still wants to touch it. To hold it once in his hands. He used to pretend he could, in his cell. Bright, fanciful illusions that removed all traces of reality as the people cheered when he held the hammer above his head. It is not a good decision, but Loki rarely makes those to begin with.

But he does shift his attention to Thor. ]

I've never seen him like this.

[ikols]

[ Thor is a mess, reappearing on his knees near the hammer in a scene prior to the one they just witnessed. Cape torn, half-dressed, dispirited. ]

Nick Fury whispered something in his ear, and then ... he couldn't lift Mjolnir anymore. But, she could.

[ A second figure materialises; the female Thor, the one that has had everyone up in arms. ]

... We call him Odinson, and she is now Thor.

iii

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar recalls the story Loki told him the first time they had met in Riverview all those months ago, about infiltrating the Angels' ranks, and ultimately betraying them to save his family. This is the ending of the tale in full. Ivar is an appreciative audience, dazzled by a story of one of his gods come straight to life.]

What a shame they've never had the chance to tell this story at home.

[He'd feel more awkward about peering in on memories that rightfully belonged to Loki alone if they weren't so epic.]