nexus_sages | A Chill in the Air

The Nexus may have seen a glittering and glorious ball the night before, but every party must end. Every overindulgence has its morning-after regrets. The pains of burning eyes and revolting stomachs have visited more than a few people like malevolent fairies. And then the lucky denizens of the Nexus get another treat.

Cailleach may well be the grumpiest looking grumpy old lady ever. If she'd been sucking on lemons for a thousand years she could not look more sour. White hair fragile with age is hidden beneath a scarf and within the hood of her raincoat. Her glasses are old-fashioned, her makeup is out of style, and her shoes are sensible. Do not ask her for candy. She is not your granny.

What is is watching the goings-on with increasing vexation. Something about everyone passing by seems to set her to an ever-increasing amount of angry muttering. Finally, she can't contain it anymore. "Why don't young people prepare for the lean times coming? Do you all think it'll be sunshine and flowers forever?"

It doesn't matter who answers. She's grumpy and demands an audience.

((She's going to be 100% mean to just about everyone, be warned. #sorrynotsorry))

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Humph. "Aye, boy, if you think it'll help. My opinion is not much loved."

Just watching the boy and all his youthful energy is making her tired. It's so unfortunate, all that wasted on those who can't appreciate it.

Loki appreciates his youth quite well, thank you. "Someone saying I'm not a brilliant master of deceit, whose mere greeting is the opening gambit in yet another duplicitous scheme? How could it not?"

She doubts it!

"But would they believe you about what I said?" She is the gray cloud to his silver lining.

He could demonstrate his fantastic youth-appreciating skills! Like making mischief! He's all about the mischief, famously so.

"Well, admittedly, they aren't exactly the sorts to take a notarized certificate, but just having a counterexample can break someone's rhetorical rhythm."

That would be a fantastic way to make her grumpier. Admittedly, making people grumpy is another one of his infamous skills.

"Then by all means. Not that I expect it will do you a lick of good." Not that she thinks anything could do this willful child a lick of good that didn't start and end with a few lessons about the price of false cheerfulness.

Oh, Loki Laufeyson knows all about the price of false cheer. Even buying it wholesale, he pays a price.

Sketching a bow, he grins. "Thank you, dear grandmother!"

He should pay more and get a better quality.

The bowing and grinning draw her up short, briefly but long enough to be noticed. "Flattery will get you nothing good, boy."

His allowance is, like himself, tiny. And who would extend Loki any credit?

Okay, Verity, but she's not here. "One man's trash," he counters, "is another god's treasure."

Verity gives him too much credit already. Quality will last him longer and in better stead. But that's one of the lessons of growing up he seems destined to avoid.

"Is that what you're hoping for? That if you are kind to me, and patient, that I'll have a sudden change of heart and see some spark of goodness in you that sparks warmth in my own old heart?" Her tone grows softer, quieter while she talks. Like it's possible. It's only to make the truth hurt more. Sharp blades cut soft meat better. "That is not possible."

Was Loki perking up a little at the talk of a change of heart?

Surely not. "Ah. That's a familiar tune, grandmother. I can't think of where you mightn't have heard it."

"Things are often familiar because they are true. Young people like to think the world changes. It does not. Not in the fundamental ways."

And neither, her tone implies, does anything else.

"As a godling of change, that's very bad news for me," he muses. "It seems I am instead a god of nothing, and there are others who do better at nihilism. But then, if nothing changes, I suppose things will carry on reasonably well, and all warnings to the contrary are idle doomsaying. That's cheery, at least!" Who doesn't want to smack the insolence out of that grin?

Who needs to? Life'll do that soon enough, and she doesn't need to hurt her hand in the process.

"A god of change, boy? When you keep everything you should be trying to cast off at your side?" She's looking at you, Ikol.

"A moral compass that's always exactly wrong," he points out, flashing a smile, "is still reliable in its way."

"Is it? Exactly wrong? But there are so many ways to be wrong, boy."

Another swing and a miss. He can keep trying to impress her if he wants, but she really wouldn't recommend it.

"That does seem to be the general consensus," he replies, "and you know how the mortals love their democracy."

That's the thing about Loki--he's the one who'll keep trying and trying, scheme after scheme until he hits on a winner.

"Hmmph. And do you intend to let the mortals lead you around by the nose, boy?"

And how's that working out for him?

"I can recognize a good idea when I see one," he rejoins, "or at least a useful one. I don't see a crown on your head."

The law of averages says it's got to pay off soon. It's a pity that Loki is such an outlier.

Loki's a force of chaos. The law of averages runs from him screaming.

"Anyone who respects me only for the jewels I wear is beneath the dignity of my consideration." It doesn't sound like she's trying to be threatening, and yet. The things that happen to what she considers beneath her consideration...

Some people appreciate a fine lawn of soft green grass without considering the feelings of each blade when it's being trampled underfoot.

That means he can herd it! The Plan is coming together at last!

"Wisdom makes a pretty pearl, does it not?" Loki teases.

Is that The Plan? That sounds like 11% of a plan.

Wait, who said he's allowed to be clever? She likes clever, and she hates liking things. MOAR GRUMP! "Hmph. For those who feel the need for gaudy display, perhaps."

That's enough of a plan for Starlord, so it's practically a tabbed and color-coded binder for Kid Loki.

Watch out, Cailleach, Loki's like moss--hold still for even a moment, and he'll grow on you. "But you're showing yours quite clearly," he points out, before his expression dawns into horror. "Oh no! Are you being gaudy? How simply terrible!"

A Chill in the Air

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