“You tricked me.”
“I didn’t even do anything!” He exclaimed.
She narrowed her eyes at him and huffed. “You. Tricked. Me.”
“Did. Not.” He stated and crossed his arms. “You just can’t tell the difference between me and your lover.”
“My lover doesn’t act like this after I touch him, that’s for sure.”
“You tricked me.”
“I didn’t even do anything!” He exclaimed.
She narrowed her eyes at him and huffed. “You. Tricked. Me.”
iamthefirechild replied to your post “Grope”
“Dammit, wrong Loki!”“You don’t say?” He questions sarcastically with the tilt of his head. “You can remove your hand any time now.”
So she smacks him, instead.
His head whips back and he glares at her. “I didn’t even deserve that.”
“You tricked me.”
iamthefirechild replied to your post “Grope”
“Dammit, wrong Loki!”“You don’t say?” He questions sarcastically with the tilt of his head. “You can remove your hand any time now.”
So she smacks him, instead.
You don’t need to worry about replying to me anymore. I know you would rather be replying to other people, and when I turn up in your askbox it’s just annoying. There’s always someone else you would rather be writing with than me. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I make you lose your muse. I won’t be bothering you anymore.
Summer looks up from her book and freezes. “You … aren’t Flyte.” To that self-evident remark, eyebrows high on her face, she adds, “Who are you?”
Very, very gently, she says, “I try not to assume. You might be different from Flyte. Your … past. But you aren’t, are you. It’s the same, mostly the same for you.” She blows out a breath, rubbing her hands over her face. “But you — you’re even more tangled than he is. You didn’t take that time to — I don’t know what he did. Before us. But he’s all swirls and loops and elegance and you — you’re just knots. Knots and tangles.”
A tilt of the head is made. “We are the same, yet not the same. At some point the path changed for me and… Flyte. His led him to you and Stark. Mine didn’t.” Licking his lips, the God closes his eyes for a moment. “Whatever he did, he found his way and has changed his path, I haven’t. I may some day but then again I may never change my path. It happens.”
“What /is/ your path?” Summer asks curiously. “What are you looking for here, anyway?” She starts to reach out a hand, remembers who she’s actually talking to, and jerks it back, locking the fingers together in her lap. “Maybe we can help.”
Summer looks up from her book and freezes. “You … aren’t Flyte.” To that self-evident remark, eyebrows high on her face, she adds, “Who are you?”
“That’s not fair,” she objects, sitting forward. “Sometimes they think that if they treat you like before, things will go back — but sometimes they just don’t see. You curl yourself inside, you yourself hide the changes,” more pensively, “you go back to the old behaviours even when they aren’t really you anymore. That helpless kneejerk response to, oh, parental authority, when you’ve been an adult for ages, but you can’t forget when you were a child.”
Summer blinks a few times, seeing the past, eyelids flickering. “Sometimes you have to force them to see the change.”
“Remember that I have been living a lie for most my life. Very few people knew of what I really was and I wasn’t one of them. Even people I trusted, who knew what I really was, they want everything to go back to the way it was. In reality it won’t work as they will still try and believe that the lie I lived was the truth.” He gazes up to the ceiling. “It may not be fair but in the end that’s life. You may remember your times before the change happened, but you always notice differences and realise why they acted differently towards you compared to others.”
A small sigh is emitted. “Sometimes you do, but it does not always work.”
Very, very gently, she says, “I try not to assume. You might be different from Flyte. Your … past. But you aren’t, are you. It’s the same, mostly the same for you.” She blows out a breath, rubbing her hands over her face. “But you — you’re even more tangled than he is. You didn’t take that time to — I don’t know what he did. Before us. But he’s all swirls and loops and elegance and you — you’re just knots. Knots and tangles.”
Summer looks up from her book and freezes. “You … aren’t Flyte.” To that self-evident remark, eyebrows high on her face, she adds, “Who are you?”
“Either. Both. It’s a sibling thing, what you said.” A few more giggles erupt from her mouth. “A family thing. The people who’ve known you the longest … ” She stops, for a second, and gulps in a breath, and begins again, slower. “They can’t see it. Change. It’s so small, in front of them, so they can’t see it. Like watching grass grow.”
Loki listens to her intently and smiles faintly. “When they do see change they pretend that nothing has happened and try to pretend everything was like it used to be. But inside, you know that things have changed, and in the end know that no matter what happens, they will deny it.”
“That’s not fair,” she objects, sitting forward. “Sometimes they think that if they treat you like before, things will go back — but sometimes they just don’t see. You curl yourself inside, you yourself hide the changes,” more pensively, “you go back to the old behaviours even when they aren’t really you anymore. That helpless kneejerk response to, oh, parental authority, when you’ve been an adult for ages, but you can’t forget when you were a child.”
Summer blinks a few times, seeing the past, eyelids flickering. “Sometimes you have to force them to see the change.”
Summer looks up from her book and freezes. “You … aren’t Flyte.” To that self-evident remark, eyebrows high on her face, she adds, “Who are you?”
She starts to laugh. He sounds so … familiar, with those words. Just a frustrated sibling, jealous of his older brother. “You sound like me,” she manages, knowing he’ll be offended at the comparion, but unable to help herself.
His brow twitches as she laughs though he can’t help but smirk a little at her. “Or is it that you sound just like me,” he counters back as he finally sits on a chair opposite to her.
“Either. Both. It’s a sibling thing, what you said.” A few more giggles erupt from her mouth. “A family thing. The people who’ve known you the longest … ” She stops, for a second, and gulps in a breath, and begins again, slower. “They can’t see it. Change. It’s so small, in front of them, so they can’t see it. Like watching grass grow.”
Summer looks up from her book and freezes. “You … aren’t Flyte.” To that self-evident remark, eyebrows high on her face, she adds, “Who are you?”
She shudders, involuntarily leaning away from that smile. It shouldn’t be frightening; it’s the innocent, playful smile of a child. But she knows entirely too much of what is behind it.
“We stopped you once. We can do it again.” It’s all she can say in the face of this smiling danger.
A triumphant smirk is formed when Summer leans away.
“That was once. And the thing is I can fail as many times as i need to finally have my plans come together. If you all fail once in stopping me… You’re doomed,” He hisses in sick pleasure.
“There’s one of you, and many of us,” she points out. “You have to know of and understand all of us to win. We only have to understand you. Just you. And we’ve your brother to help with that, I think. You’ll never win, Loki. Never.”
How in the world has she fallen into the dramatic face-off scene? This is life, it’s not a book or a movie. She shakes her head slightly.
“Yes but more of you mean it’s more entertainment for me and also means that I can figure out who is your most valuable members and who is your least valuable members. If one member falls that is valued a lit. Everything begins to crumble.” A small frown is made. “Thor thinks he knew me yet he did not. I am not the same person he knew in the past. He does not know what I do or what I know anymore. He believes he is stronger than me and will take me to Asgard to serve their justice but yet claims to be my brother and wants everything to be as it was before everything start. Once he is convinced that nothing will be the same maybe then you will have a chance of defeating me properly.”
She starts to laugh. He sounds so … familiar, with those words. Just a frustrated sibling, jealous of his older brother. “You sound like me,” she manages, knowing he’ll be offended at the comparion, but unable to help herself.