Inbox (Caldera)

[coldsong]

"Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Attack while they are distracted.

Kindly leave a message."

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[coldsong]

He makes short work of fetching a bottle of very good Rosymorn Red, obtained from Astarion and Lioriley's winery, from his pantry. The vampire's taste in wine is impeccable, and Loki ought to know, he's something of a snob about wine, himself. He pours it, lets it breathe, and brings her glass to her, before collecting snacks far more haphazardly, coming back out with some sort of small cheesy baked biscuits, a blueberry scone, a bag of dried apricots and walnuts, and a rather huge box of what are probably high-end chocolates. "Help yourself to whatever you like. I can probably find more things in the pantry if that doesn't suit you."

But she needn't worry about intoxication. Loki might play a trick on a drunk person, like sticking all their furniture to the ceiling while they're out, but unless they're really asking for it, he's disinclined to really take advantage.

"Spaced," he echoes with a grimace, remembering the long, cold, airless fall from the Bifrost. "Agreed. But I'm leaving because I'm switching affiliations to Sylph."

He sips his own wine, leaning back in his chair and manspreading like the brooding prince he is. "I feel as though both Sylph and Undine fit my ethos well enough anyway, but for now I think Nymion needs to be watched. And it needs to be done more subtly than Lulu's attempt. Lulu is far more powerful than he seems, and I fear that made him careless, knowing he could rely on his own strength with most opponents."

"I'm at least used to outmaneuvering storm gods, or influencing their better natures." Also their worse natures. If the worst comes to the worst, he might be able to tease Nymion into doing something foolish enough to end himself.

But only if that proves to be the best way to handle him. "And I know I'm weak."

[earthborn]

"Well more power to you," Shepard toasts him, or the notion of spycraft, with her somewhat less-full wineglass, and sighs in the wake of the relevant drink, "Personally, this level of corruption and bullshit doesn't really rise to the point where I start worrying about it... but I'm given to understand my standards are fucked."

Between Panem, the Reapers, and her own much-flaws military dictatorship, things had to get pretty dire before she took action. Though, to be fair, Shepard's idea of action tended to come very decisively for those who would be gods... and she's not convinced that Nymion, or indeed any of them, are yet smart enough not to stand next to windows. It's really quite amazing how accurately you can take a person's skull apart at a mile away, with the right tools...

...Ah, but what's the point in daydreaming? Loki has one thing right: Lulu wasn't the man for the job.

"He got off pretty light, all things considered.. I know a lot of people in Nymion's position who would not have just kicked his ass and dumped him on the doorstep."

[coldsong]

"Your standards are fucked," he confirms with a little grin. "But no, you do have a bit of a point. Given the absolute power the faction leaders wield, they could be infinitely worse. Even if they're doing nastier things than we know behind the scenes, they could be infinitely worse because they're doing them subtly."

"From the perspective of someone who does in fact care about mortal self-determination, I don't love it. But from someone who is a god, myself--or was, at least, and likely will be again--I understand it and respect their restraint. Ignacia in particular. One would expect an explosive temper out of a volcanic deity and yet she's mostly kept to herself responsibly."

"But they need to get better. Whatever this is killing their people, it has no comparable restraint."

"Anyway, my idea is to advertise my interest in Nymion himself, and make no secret of my intentions. He'll take notice. He may not care, or pretend not to care, but he'll notice and at least think it's cute."

[earthborn]

"That's a stereotype," Shepard points out, smirking with the powerful confidence of someone who is about to spout complete nonsense, "Maybe she's quiet because she's a volcano girl. Everybody notices when the mountain blows up, but you notice most of the time it's just sitting there minding its own business."

It's really not at all bad wine, in the opinion of her undeserving palate.

"Look, you're not gonna get an argument out of me. You're a sneaky bastard, and you know how suck up to people in power; it's not the worst plan. But what's your endgame?"

[coldsong]

"Of course, my apologies." He's amused, and gives the slightest of bows. "Heaven forfend I racially profile the gods."

She's funny, in a sharp, understated way he enjoys immensely.

"Truthfully, I'm still working out the endgame. I will say that taking over for any or all of them is not part of it. I would if I had to, but I don't want to, and even if I did want that level of power, I don't think I'd take it until I knew what we're really up against."

It still doesn't sit well with him for his divinity to be totally ignored by the gods of this place, but he's meant to be an oppositional figure in his own pantheon, he can cope.

"For the moment, this is about positioning myself to be close enough to make the next move quickly. The endgame is to improvise."