with ʟǟʊʄɛʏֆօռ & օɖɨռֆօռ

[a. seemanni]

(( bump

[∂αмє υмвяα]

The Trickster God watched as Thor took his time in walking through the remnants of what used to be a bustling place of life, with cars honking at the stray jaywalker that crossed the street in a hurry to their destination. New York to the Trickster, seemed haunted as if it where waiting for something to happen in the desolate city that held only so few left. The lives of many versus the goal of one Mad-Titan, who succeeded in his goal of wiping out half the population of the universe. The God of Mischief frowned slightly to himself as he saw people walking aimlessly about the streets with no purpose in life; all because of one simple mistake on Thor’s part...

Loki watched the Thunder God from behind with a grim look on his face as he saw him lift a limp form of a person who had suffered from something else, and not from Thanos’ handiwork of snapping out the lives of half the universe. He and Thor where the first to encounter the Mad-Titan, as the ship full of Asgardians where slaughtered before the King and Prince of Asgard (and King of Jotunheim the Trickster realized). He had been so foolish in giving up the Space Stone to the Titan in a way to bargain for his and Thor’s life. But it didn’t end up that way as he was on deaths door-

The god of lies shook his head softly to clear his thoughts. That was in the past. He had to focus on the present and the future of what he was going to do in order to get Thor to realize that he was in fact alive and not dead. He knew that he had ‘disappeared’ after Thor tried to save him from falling off the Rainbow Bridge, and then, returned to be the cause of the Attack on New York, only to fake his death again shortly after helping his brother with the Dark Elves. So, it will be pretty hard to convince the Thunder God he was real.

The Trickster gave a slight roll of his eyes at the comment that Thor gave him. He served no one but himself, well, he had been under the influence of Thanos to look for the Space Stone, and regretted every second of what he had done. He looked up at the skyline and saw the infamous Avengers Tower. A shiver danced it’s way down Loki’s spine as he looked up at it. Bad memories. ”You surely much be kidding. I serve no one. You of all people should know that.” The Trickster replied. ”Besides, you are the only one that I see me. I am a master of illusions, you know that from the constants pranks I’ve pulled on you. It would be quite a complication if the remnants of the Avengers saw me. He spoke as he walked till he stood next to Thor, whose back was facing him. When all I want to do is help, everyone needs help at this point in time.”

[a. seemanni]

Thor laughed, but there was no humor in it; his voice was bitter, more akin to the bark of a wolf as it warned all within it proximity that there was danger here. “There is where you make your next mistake, phantom. Loki served no one but himself.” He sighed, shaking his head in a fashion that was born of a deep pain. Still, those runes returned to his mind in a flash of curiosity. Who would know that he had begun to do that? Who else would know that he was visiting the sanctum. So many details just didn’t add up - had it really been an act? He didn’t want to believe that Loki would do that to him again, not when he had spent months thinking he was alone in this, when he was going into everything with his best foot forward and a smile on his face like he hadn’t just lost everything that meant anything to him. Could he really turn around and forgive something like that? The god king pushed the doors open and took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself before he crossed the lobby and physically restrained himself from slamming his hand down on the elevator button.

When the car finally arrived, Thor nodded pleasantly to the intern that stepped out and left space for the apparition as he hit the button for the suite Stark had designed for him. It was appreciated, really, that the man had gone so far as to design separate floors for each of them within the tower. Were they used often? No, but it was all they really had anymore with the compound at the other end of Manhattan and on secure lockdown. Thor didn’t say anything, deep in thought, but acknowledged the Captain when he stepped in a few floors later and gave him a concerned look. There he went again, understanding so much more than anyone ever thought to give him credit for. He seemed to catch every bit of the way the god tensed, betraying his outwardly sunny disposition. Nobody really looked that happy anymore, living in the tower, but they looked after each other and Thor would be damned if Steve Rodgers didn’t watch out for everyone in the building like they were the only friend he had. A lst breath of air, if you would, the only things he had left. And they were, weren’t they? They were a band of strugglers, making sure each other’s backs were covered. Captain Rodgers got off on the floor below his with a friendly goodbye that Thor returned, grateful. They each had one another, and that was alright.

As thor stepped off of the elevator to his own suite, he took in how unlived in it was. The whole thing was designed off of a theme - Stark liked themes and his eye for design was unrivaled - but it wasn’t obvious at first. It was only after one really got a look around that it became apparent; it was like Tony had googled Muspelheim and gone off of whatever mythology surfaced, which stung now, because it was all shades of brown and bronze and fiery orange. Subtle, though. Like it was an afterthought. A large hearth stood unlit, clearly extinguished long ago and untouched since. The logs were blackened, but a thin layer of dust coated them. Thor took the lanyard from his jacket and swung it in a few lazy circles. when it came to a stop he held the wide hilt of a war axe in his hand. The head of it struck the logs, a flame roaring to life. Thor set the blade on the grate. The hilt reminded him heavily of a friend, lost to them. He frowned.

Lost in thought he paced for a moment, expression tense and far away. Thor rounded on the apparition and looked it over, sitting on a coffee table and raking one hand through his tragically shorn hair. His eyes found the runes peeking out of its sleeve once again. “There’s only one way to know for certain that you are who you claim to be. This is not your true form, Laufeyson. If you are true, you know this.” He paused, conjuring the image in his own mind. It was a very specific appearance, and Loki had lines upon him in intricate patterns that he’d never seen anywhere but on Laufey himself; marks of heritage, he supposed. “If you are so determined to prove your identity, do it. Show yourself.” There were very few people left in the world that had seen Loki the way he truly was, and even Thor had only seen him a handful of times, but he knew the mischief god’s true self by heart anyway. Had taken the initiative to memorize him, write him down so the he would live forever. There would be other indicators, of course - Someone must have known that the runes tied them together as æsir, but if they didn’t know Loki was jotnar, they wouldn’t know that the runes carried over - they’d probably assume it al was part of the glamour.