eswareinmal | Chapter 1 - "I just want to help", "Then help me."

Is this supposed to be some sort of a joke?

[The orb shows a middle aged man standing in the shadow of the castle walls. He doesn't seem the slightest bit bothered by the persistent rain, except to glance around him at the grey landscape every so often with the look of one lost. He doesn't even seem as though he's getting wet at all.

The especially observant might notice that this is because the rain doesn't appear to be touching him.

More importantly, this man looks decidedly upset, with the stance and bearing of one who's either ready for a fight or who has just escaped one. It's true that the man who'd been there to explain things to him when he'd woken up here probably didn't find Giles a ready listener. He'll go back and apologize later, after he's calmed down. If he's calmed down. The urge to hit something is made all the sharper by the fact that he can't.]

I-I've been dragged away from my home and, and expected to save a kingdom of, of idiots who, who d-don't even know not to mess with forces they admit are beyond their comprehending! A-And to make matters so much worse, they've done so in a way to ensure that I can't help anyone!

[Giles glances back at the wall, and if looks could kill that stone would crumble. As it stands, Giles merely swipes a hand at it, and his mood is not improved when his blow merely passes through the stone, as noticeable as a breeze and even less effective. Giles massages his hand more out of reflex than anything else as he turns back to the orb.]

They, they said that only other..."heroes" [a word he says with evident distaste] have these things. If so, then, then speak up. If you're not from this place, then you might be at least marginally more helpful than the people who actually live here. And, a-and like this...you all are, um, my only way to have any idea of what's going on.

[He sighs, some of the fight leaving his body, if only from the memory of exhaustion.]

Rupert Giles. Um, nice to meet you.

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Weeks. The fight is still young.

The other boy wasn't joking. Are the thorns really moving that, um, slowly, then?

Is that an excuse to tarry? To occupy ourselves in frivolity when there is a creature, a force that plans to destroy everything?

And another force that would like nothing better than a perfect, orderly world. One where every role is filled, and every creature is hollowed and eviscerated, leaving nothing but their role behind.

There are two hells in store for this place, Gilesson. Choose you well.

[...]

"Giles" is fine, thanks.

And this is hell enough for me.

And I am Loki.

No more.

[It takes a second...but then the shock is obvious in Giles' expression.

He quickly attempts to hide this by taking off his glasses to clean. Not that it matters. They're quite spotless.]

...as I said. Um, nice to meet you.

[ Good; Loki is ever-so-tired of explaining himself. ]

A creature from Midgard, then. And one not so ignorant as the rest.

[ He looks human, at the very least. If one discounts the non-corporeality. ]

Edited 2012-04-23 18:09 (UTC)

[Without looking up, Giles nevertheless inclines his head respectfully at this admittedly slightly backhanded compliment.]

Knowing such things, um, used to be my job. Back home, I mean. Th-Then I was fired, of course, a-and it just became a necessity.

Tell me of your expertise. Are you sorcerer or scholar?

Scholar. Um, very much a scholar, although the universe seems, um, bound and determined to, to keep me away from any substantial source of research material.

[As for sorcerer...]

And you have knowledge of arcanum and spellcraft?

To a, um, to a limited degree. Really, um, I only know much about magic from my own world, a-and to a lesser degree one other, but...I doubt that will be much help at all here.

Hmm.

[ In a tone that means: better than nothing. ]

And how do you know my name?

As I said. [And here Giles slides his glasses back onto his face before looking back at Loki.] I, I had to study the supernatural elements of my world. I had to know as much as I could, because, um, the odds were very good that my friends or I would have to fight them off over the fate of the world at some point.

That, um, that included the gods of a dozen or so different pantheons...as well as, um, other such aspects of the divine.

[ Aspects of the divine -- he does like the sound of that.

He breaks into a smile, a mocking one, surprised and ever-so-amused. ]

You knew me because you would think to fight me?

[ l u l z. ]

[Giles doesn't look away this time. He even smiles - a faint, even shy smile, but one that nevertheless shines with trust in something greater than Loki.]

Only if provoked.

If, if you had come to our world with designs of ending it? Yes. We, w-we would have fought you.

And we would have won.

Brave. Brave like a thrashing fish, already hooked through the lip.

And now? Now that you are less substantial than a wisp of cloud.

More like a fish that's already flopped its last. And I believe I'm well aware of the fact that I'm currently a ghost, thanks.

I can afford to be, um, somewhat flippant with a god, under those circumstances.

But a creature may reach further in death throes than he ever did in life.

And the truly unfortunate might go on to do even more after they've ceased to have a pulse.

[Give him a second to recall the right words, Loki.]

"Draugrs" have, um, always been something of a concern, for us.

And do you fight them, old man?

I'm, I'm not the one who's...technically "supposed" to be fighting them, but, um, yes. I did.

Bravery or foolishness?

Necessity.

S-So, um, I suppose you could call it both.

Hmm.

Well, I have a lesson to teach a little witch.

[ he means it literally: magic-user. ]

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