riverviewlogs | OPEN; memshare

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.'

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[ 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. ]

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?

[ 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. ]

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.

[ 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.

[ 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.

[ It's still hard to fathom Thor being unable to lift the hammer. Sure, it happened once but he got over that in a matter of hours. The idea of a female Thor was a little harder to process. ]

I cannot imagine Thor taking that well.

Edited 2017-10-16 13:19 (UTC)

[ A small smile at that. ]

I do not believe she gave him a choice.

[ In true 'Thor' form. ]

[ His lips twitch minutely, but he still finds himself drawn to Thor. Brought so low. Loki doesn't like it. He doesn't like looking at it so he finally tears his gaze away. ]

It's not right. Him being like this.

This isn't so bad, he isn't even angry here.

[ There are other scenes he isn't so keen to show. ]

[ Loki glances at his other self, a little perturbed by that reaction. Being . . . ambivalent to Thor seems like an impossibility. Even now, as much as Loki rages against it, the idea of Thor brought to his knees, lost and despondent is — is wrong. It does not fit in reality as Loki knows it.

Perhaps that is why he struggles with Thor right now. Thor, who seems to flounder with the way of life in Riverview. Who comes to Loki in a poor disguise to hide his loneliness. ]

It is bad enough.

You haven't been on the receiving ends of his unworthy fists.

[ There's no small degree of bitter anger undercurrenting his words as he crouches in front of the dream-Thor. Scowling. ]

All because it takes a hammer to make him rational. A stupid toy. [ Dream-Thor continues to stare at Mjolnir and the ire Loki wears in his eyes and at the corners of a tight frown eases, smoothing out to a placid evenness. ] Lose the ability to hear one voice and the rest have no chance.

Your brother.

[ Loki meets his gaze head-on. ]

Not mine.

[ Green eyes flicker up, arching a brow as he reads the pride, the defensiveness, and rises to his feet in a fluid movement. ]

Your brother. I like him, he reminds me of the youth that Thor used to have. I'm curious as to how many Ragnaroks the both of you will live through, and what they will do to you.

[ Loki barely holds back the snarl, though the signs of it are there. ]

He will not be defeated. He will not succumb to this. Surrender is not his nature.

Surrender happens to everyone, sooner or later.

[ That gentle reminder comes as he paces around the kneeling ghost of his brother, more phantoms piling in; Freyja, a sick Jane, even Loki who sits beside Thor and tries to console him. All fail. All leave. ]

He eventually picked up his old axe Jarnbjorn. Going by the Odinson, even he knew he was a wretched mockery of what he should be, he didn't hide it. He couldn't. He didn't have his hammer, his arm was black-forged Uru after Malekith carved him up ... yet, for the record, he was not entirely bad ... only less, ah, what's the word I'm looking for? Hmmm.

[ His boot comes to rest on a corner of Mjolnir. ]

[ Get up, he finds himself thinking, despite what his twin says. Get up, Thor. Finally, Loki tears his eyes away, unable to look at this — this man. Not his brother. Not the god Thor always was. ]

Golden. Less bright.

Careful, it sounds as if you care.

[ Which is a tease only because they do, of course. More than anyone. ]

[ Loki rolls his eyes, but doesn't reply. He'd give himself away. ]

How may I leave? I have overstayed my welcome.

Walk out.

[ He gestures to the moon and lets the memory fade at the edges. He turns away from his twin to look at Thor again, sadder with his back barring his expression from sight. ]

[ Loki starts before pausing. His gaze flickers back to Thor, but he briefly reaches out to squeeze his other self's shoulder before turning on his heel and leaving. Maybe even to see Thor and reassure himself this is not their end.

Not if Loki has something to do about it. ]

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[ ii ]

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