nexus_sages | took a wrong turn at albuquerque

Loki can always appreciate the little nooks and crannies of existence, the in-between appealing to certain facets of his nature. How he found himself there wasn't so important as what he did there, and now he's sprawled in a comfortable lounge chair in the Forum. The shabby, shoeless god doesn't take long before he decides to put his own contribution out there.

"Let's set the stage, shall we?" he calls just before he leaps abruptly to his feet on the chair.

"Congratulations, you've won! You return from a great quest with the glory and the girl or boy or whatever you sought as yours. Hear the cheers of the crowd. Yay, you!" People near him might even hear that hypothetical jubilation briefly, an echoing illusion that fades as he waves it away. "Or maybe none of that, and you came out of it with a bit of personal satisfaction and a friend." (If one misplaced momentarily. Problematic, that.) "Things were going so well, and yet, right now, right now, you're waiting around for what comes after."

"You're as free as a bird, so..." He's made a switch to a more conversational tone as he drops back down into his seat. "What d'you reckon you'd do next? What story would you spin?"

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"But I am the God of Stories. I could find them eventually." He feels not a whit of shame for pushing the young Loki all the way to tapping his foot. He even starts to grin. "Still, I could agree to trade a tale for a tale, maybe, if you sweeten the deal with a cup of coffee."

He is Loki, unbound and unfettered, so he could get his own damn coffee if he were so motivated. It's not like there is a lack of resources here in the forum area. Unfortunately, he is also still Loki, and thus a pain in the ass.

That does aptly describe Loki, alas. Still, Loki can recognize a bargain when Loki's offering it. "Deal." He pauses a beat, then adds, "does it have to be coffee?"

There is a sort of hard won patient humor dancing in his eyes as Loki agrees, and promptly starts trying to change it.

"It is the deal," he points out helpfully. If he were actually set on anything in particular, he might have even kept his ground on principle. It had simply been the first thing to come to mind, so he allows, "But, no, you can surprise me pleasantly instead."

"Oh, it has to be pleasant?" Loki teases. "Wait here-ish." Loki knows better than to try to contain Loki, after all.

Scurrying off, he returns after a short interval with a paper coffee cup that smells yeasty and cinnamon-y, and a broad grin. "Allow me to revolutionize your breakfast drink selection."

(The beverage in question, akh, comes from a Nexus-local cafe and the thick, frothy drink's flavor has been favorably compared to drinking a fresh-from-the-oven cinnamon roll.)

It is not wise to trust a mysterious beverage from Loki, but the appetizing aroma is bringing him around rather quickly. Only moderately confident that this isn't a bit of mischief in the works and comfortable with it even if it is, he accepts the beverage with aplomb.

After a sip, he decides that it was a good idea to let him exercise his own judgement.

"Pro-tip, short Loki." He takes another drink. Allow him to stall a bit while he savors it. "If you wish to get the better end of a bargain, lead with this."

Loki shrugs. "Who'd believe me?" For all his effort at nonchalance, however, he is practically bouncing in anticipation of the promised story.

That's a straight line if he's ever heard one, and Loki is happy to take the cue. "That there is but one that could believe Loki the only reason that I exist as I do."

Briefly, he's tempted to go full skaldic verse and tell the tale in winding, complicated poetic forms if only for the inherent comedy such anachronism brings. (He could already imagine the verse that involves his mother in sunglasses.)It's easy to fall his natural role, comfortable and familiar. "Change, you may know, has often been the preoccupation of the trickster god. With word and wit, Loki sought to wipe the slate clean of past unforgivable deeds, though those are a tale of another time."

Maybe it's a storyteller's conceit to talk in the third person, but it comes naturally to him. He shifts to rest a hand on the gold scepter at his side.

"Can you imagine? That struggle, that ever-present risk of falling back into easy, old habits? Perhaps only Loki could know the bitterness of never being good enough for Asgard, for he was the God of Lies and to love a liar is no simple feat.

"Though, fairly, his great exploits won many fans for a time. To look upon Midgard's internet was to find much fiction of the handsome young god, often in improbable romantic positions. Lovingly were his imagined exploits described, and alarming in detail was the attendant art. Yet that was not the regard he craved, and so he persisted.

"But who could believe in him?"

"Thor believes me," Loki points out. "Probably more often than he should, really. And Verity, too. You probably meant Verity."

Alas, it's in Loki's nature to be a difficult audience.

took a wrong turn at albuquerque

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