Entry tags:
for sorserer
[ Contrary to popular opinion–or, more specifically, popular opinion amongst those who had seen him on Midgard last, in New York–Loki is quite conscious of when and how to keep a low profile. That's been the plan ever since he'd been dragged, begrudgingly, back to the wretched planet upon which he'd last suffered such a humiliating defeat–and worse, he's now been placed loosely under the employ of the organization that had enacted said humiliating defeat upon him.
Employ, though, is a little bit of a stretch. New Asgard has taken up much of Thor and Loki's time, and Loki has never spoken once during the scant few meetings that he's bothered to show up to, after that disastrous first one in which Loki had promised to behave and explained the circumstances of his last visit, how he'd fallen under the sceptre's thrall. It's embarrassing to admit to, especially due to the fact that a good eighty percent of the room's occupants clearly hadn't been quite satisfied with that explanation, but either way, it's enough to keep the Hulk from smashing him again, and it's enough for him to be permitted to stay, although it isn't lost on him that he'll have to commit some sort of nauseating act of heroism sooner rather than later in order to be considered to be redeemed properly.
But he's kept quiet and ignored the stares, mostly. It's easier that way. He doesn't hide his disdain when someone says something particularly stupid, or when Strange speaks, which–generally speaking–is the same thing, but he's kept quiet. He'd made it four months until today, at which point all that has gone straight out the window and abruptly into a shouting match. ]
What would you possibly propose?
[ –Loki hisses, jabbing at Strange's chest. Keeping quiet had been easy when they'd been discussing HYDRA, or SHIELD, or one of their other ridiculous acronyms, but as soon as Thor had mentioned a premonition he'd had...somehow, things had gone very rapidly downhill. ]
What could you? Midgard is in certain peril if you're what constitutes as its magical defense–do you know what protected Asgard for milleniae? A single spell. Not warriors, like all of you. Ancient magic. You wouldn't know the first thing about ancient magic. How could you? I'm quite sure you learned what an incantation was a handful of weeks ago–
Employ, though, is a little bit of a stretch. New Asgard has taken up much of Thor and Loki's time, and Loki has never spoken once during the scant few meetings that he's bothered to show up to, after that disastrous first one in which Loki had promised to behave and explained the circumstances of his last visit, how he'd fallen under the sceptre's thrall. It's embarrassing to admit to, especially due to the fact that a good eighty percent of the room's occupants clearly hadn't been quite satisfied with that explanation, but either way, it's enough to keep the Hulk from smashing him again, and it's enough for him to be permitted to stay, although it isn't lost on him that he'll have to commit some sort of nauseating act of heroism sooner rather than later in order to be considered to be redeemed properly.
But he's kept quiet and ignored the stares, mostly. It's easier that way. He doesn't hide his disdain when someone says something particularly stupid, or when Strange speaks, which–generally speaking–is the same thing, but he's kept quiet. He'd made it four months until today, at which point all that has gone straight out the window and abruptly into a shouting match. ]
What would you possibly propose?
[ –Loki hisses, jabbing at Strange's chest. Keeping quiet had been easy when they'd been discussing HYDRA, or SHIELD, or one of their other ridiculous acronyms, but as soon as Thor had mentioned a premonition he'd had...somehow, things had gone very rapidly downhill. ]
What could you? Midgard is in certain peril if you're what constitutes as its magical defense–do you know what protected Asgard for milleniae? A single spell. Not warriors, like all of you. Ancient magic. You wouldn't know the first thing about ancient magic. How could you? I'm quite sure you learned what an incantation was a handful of weeks ago–
Entry tags:
loki/strange
[ Loki isn't quite sure where this all went wrong. It had been a plan borne largely out of desperation, admittedly–this whole New York endeavor–and those kinds of plans rarely, if ever, work out, but honestly, he'd thought that he had this. Partnering with Thanos and the Other had been a risky choice, but a necessary one–he'd been invincible, with the sceptre, with the Chitauri, or so he'd thought. He hadn't expected this–the Avengers, their ridiculous alliance, but then again, now, he's not quite sure why, and when he tries to think back on his logic, how he'd plotted out his attack, all he can remember is a fog of anger, of desperation, of fear.
But now, he's clear-headed enough to know that this is defeat, or, at the very least, a severe setback. His vision swims, and he clutches at his side as he staggers down a long, narrow alleyway, steadying himself with a hand to the wall. He'd used up most of his energy summoning up the projection of himself long enough to distract Thor and the rest while he'd made his escape, but they've likely realized by now. He's not quite sure who he hopes will find him first; Thanos will almost certainly kill him, but at least that way, he wouldn't have to suffer the humiliation of being dragged back to Asgard in chains.
Or, there's a third option: perhaps he'll just die here in the alleyway. It feels like he's nearly there, honestly, he thinks, before he promptly trips over his own feet–and then, just like that, he's on the ground. Loki grimaces, slotting an arm underneath himself to push himself up, but that's as far as his energy gets him. Since he's already here on the ground–he reasons, hazily–he just needs a few moments to close his eyes, and then he'll continue on. Maybe more than a few moments. A few minutes, at the very most, he tells himself, and then passes out immediately. ]
But now, he's clear-headed enough to know that this is defeat, or, at the very least, a severe setback. His vision swims, and he clutches at his side as he staggers down a long, narrow alleyway, steadying himself with a hand to the wall. He'd used up most of his energy summoning up the projection of himself long enough to distract Thor and the rest while he'd made his escape, but they've likely realized by now. He's not quite sure who he hopes will find him first; Thanos will almost certainly kill him, but at least that way, he wouldn't have to suffer the humiliation of being dragged back to Asgard in chains.
Or, there's a third option: perhaps he'll just die here in the alleyway. It feels like he's nearly there, honestly, he thinks, before he promptly trips over his own feet–and then, just like that, he's on the ground. Loki grimaces, slotting an arm underneath himself to push himself up, but that's as far as his energy gets him. Since he's already here on the ground–he reasons, hazily–he just needs a few moments to close his eyes, and then he'll continue on. Maybe more than a few moments. A few minutes, at the very most, he tells himself, and then passes out immediately. ]