eswareinmal | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

[ Loki's skin is pale; he, once again, looks human, his eyes green, his hair dark. His fingers are restless, tapping. ] Shall we have a tale?

Here, I believe the appropriate beginning is, let's see... Once upon a time.

Once upon a time, there was a little world. It had no boundaries, but it was small enough that it needed no boundaries. More on that later, I certainly expect. This world was made by balance between order and chaos. Order created and arranged, and chaos introduced an element of randomness. Evolution. Each required the other to innovate.

But, then, Order isn't so very good at innovation, is it? Perhaps inevitable that one day Chaos would begin to dominate. The balance reels, and the world changes -- or perhaps it's that the world changes, and the balance tips. Either way, each avatar, one of order, one of chaos, are locked in eternal battle. Thorns began to spread, and so Order had to try, again, to reach beyond itself. Literally, this time.

As we stand: order reached to heroes, but could not cope with the element of instability the heroes produced. Thus, it boxed them into confined roles, shaved off the bits of them that would not fit.

Take care, heroes, for chaos would destroy everything -- but order would destroy you from within.

This is, as it stands, all I know. Let you ignorants be satisfied with that.

[ OOC: Thread between Sif and Loki below includes NSFW content. Be thyself warned. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You compare the crimes. I do not.

[She slides off of the bed, standing before him. His anger only fuels her own.]

You lash out at Thor for withholding the truth. And now you are cross with me for revealing it. Why, Loki?

Edited 2012-09-14 21:27 (UTC)

Because I do wrong and it is the height of horror; Thor does wrong, and you run to the ends of Asgard and beyond to save him!

[ The words are snarled, defensive. He does not bother for his clothes, now; he has the illusion of them wrap around him, magically. ]

What is so terrible about invading Midgard? Crushing mortals like the ants they are?

We all did wrong, that day. I do not absolve myself of what happened on Jotunnheim, any more than I absolve you.

[He would approach a conflict clothed where Sif is naked. She doesn't move to gather her own things. Doesn't break eye contact.]

Crush mortals to what end? They are a lesser species, and we have long since pledged them our protection.

Edited 2012-09-14 21:44 (UTC)

Would we not rule them better than they rule themselves?

Meanwhile, their lives are nothing -- thousands? Worth one of the gods, if that.

They are not ours to rule. Their lives are not ours to take. How you defend so ardently a crime that is not even yours!

You did not see as I saw, Loki. If you had, I believe you would not be so quick to speak. A city of millions. Children, all of them. Confused, frightened, and defenseless. No -- no god is worth that price.

Edited 2012-09-14 21:57 (UTC)

Vengeance is in my heart, Sif, no matter how deep it is buried. My crimes on Jotunnheim were more terrible. You know of those -- but Thor, Thor saw this and he said it beyond redemption, and how you fall into line behind him. Ever-so-loyal.

[ He would have killed every Jotunn, every Frost Giant there ever was for a true place in Asgard. But to strike a single city -- this is unforgivable? ]

I saw this, Loki! This is no hearsay. The visions -- it was as if I were there. Yes, they were terrible. This is a conclusion I reach on my own.

But at no point did Thor deem you beyond redemption. He would never. Nor would I -- [this is maddening]

For what reason do we quarrel? These crimes have not taken place. There is nothing laid at your feet to forgive or redeem. And we have put Jotunnheim behind us, have we not?

If he didn't think it beyond redemption, then why wouldn't he tell me?

[ His voice has become quiet, and tight, tense, full of emotion. Why wouldn't Thor say? Why was Thor so certain that the news of this would strike him so? ]

What drives any action Thor takes? I imagine he thought to protect you.

[She moves in closer, mindful that Loki is like to strike out at any moment.]

No cruelty was intended. You must know that.

And I wonder --

{ -- his tone so bitter -- ]

I wonder why he did not think I had been protected enough.

[ If only he had known the truth of his heritage earlier... if only they had not lied to him. ]

Because he is your older brother. I do not suspect he will ever think that you have been protected enough.

[In this, the royal family is not so different from any other. That is what is most maddening -- how common so many of Thor and Loki's conflicts are, and how neither of them can admit that.]

He is an ignorant lout, as usual.

[ In this moment, Loki hates him. He hates him, and that hate roils and twists in his belly. ]

And you see slight were none is meant. As usual.

[She know. She knows. Loki wears his hate as plainly as Sif wears her anger. She cannot fix what is broken between the two brothers. But she will not indulge his hate -- it is an ugly thing, that seeps in and distorts the best parts of him.]

In Thor, it was meant.

[ He is sure of it.

But he drifts a step or two closer to her. A reluctant ceding of his personal space. ]

Because Thor is so known for being malicious.

[She is on edge, now. But she leans in still.]

And I? Have I set out to cut you so? I am not like Thor, after all. I have been known for cruelty.

Am I wrong to be suspicious? You love me, and you yourself do not know why.

[At that, her head darts up. She looks to him for a moment, and exhales. Flippant.

Her skin is alight, now.]

Am I in love with you, now? I should think myself more sensible than that.

[ His eyes are level. ]

I thought so, as well.

You are not always kind to those that love you. To those whom you love.

Kindness is not in a serpent's nature, my lady.

No. No, it is not. Good that you are a man, then.

[She moves in still. Head angled under his, eyes intent.]

If I love you, then I would not set out to hurt you. If you love me, then you would grant me that belief.

[ He turns away. His hands tremble; he grips then tight. ]

It is too much to ask.

[ He does not specify what is too much: that he love her? That he say it? That he grant her what she asks? ]

I ask nothing of you, Loki.

[She is steady, where he trembles. And she is tired. Tired of a exercising a patience of which she is not in natural possession. Tired of being the one to wait, to give.

She rests hand on his back. It goes through the illusion, and settles flat against his skin.]

I only speak a truth. If I held your love, so too would I hold at least a modicum of your trust.

[ He shudders, a sudden and convulsive thing, as her hand touches his skin. ]

Trust is as silence, Sif. Speak of it, and it may be broken.

[ He trusts her with his back. But not with his heart. ]

You do not control my speech, Loki.

[Another fact, and spoken as such. She is not the one who brought love into the conversation. Surely, trust is no more taboo. The former comes easier to her, guarded though she keeps it.

She drops a kiss to his shoulder, half expecting him to flinch at the contact.]

In thought or deed. No more than I control yours.