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If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks...
It's customary to have a Wake after the subject thereof dies. Even Loki knows that. But this is a special occasion. Ego-death is coming to his alternate, and the idea of letting him go off to perish alone, uncertain he will even be mourned, is too dark a proposition even for a flawed and callous person to contemplate.
That, and this Loki has been in a melancholy mood since speaking to the spirit of Frigga. He anticipates a dark choice of his own, sooner or later, and where the fates will send him after that, he can't know. Maybe oblivion, although even at that rate there may be worse places.
What's important right now is that no one dies unremembered. And honestly, any excuse formischief a party. The first text rolls out to Harley, an innocent enough invitation to join them for milkshakes. Cricket is next, because it occurs to him that Cricket has plenty of liquor, which is good for a reckless celebration.
Things snowball from there.
As long as they don't destroy too much property, they'll call the night a success.
That, and this Loki has been in a melancholy mood since speaking to the spirit of Frigga. He anticipates a dark choice of his own, sooner or later, and where the fates will send him after that, he can't know. Maybe oblivion, although even at that rate there may be worse places.
What's important right now is that no one dies unremembered. And honestly, any excuse for
Things snowball from there.
As long as they don't destroy too much property, they'll call the night a success.
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"Ah! That wasn't half bad, but if I may make a suggestion? You're meant to phrase it like this--" Loki clears his throat, leans his elbow on the table, and says in a lower, more suggestive octave: "'What are two nice, identical boys like you doing in a place like this'?"
He's terrible. Someone stop him.
"But do sit if you like. Tonight is for company."
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"So what are two nice, identical boys like you doing in a place like this?" His voice doesn't quite manage suggestive, mainly because he's trying not to laugh.
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He smiles at Azwel. "We are celebrating now, in case we do egregious harm to ourselves when we go out to find liquor after this."
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Now this is something he's missed since starting on his self-appointed crusade to save the human race from itself. He's simply not allowed himself the opportunity to enjoy himself for far too long. Anyone would tell you, that's not healthy in the slightest.
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This is probably not exactly the idea response, but he's not about to just tell everyone one of them is going to die tomorrow. It's not his secret, and it would cast a pall over the proceedings.
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"That would be quite the experiment, indeed. Forgive my... ignorance, I don't know many beings here, yet. What is your name?"
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"There is nothing to be forgiven. No one here knows everyone they meet at a glance. I am Loki. My twin is also Loki, from a different, parallel reality. We have been fortunate enough to find one another here, and even more fortunate in that we get along so well."
"And you, friend? What can I call you?"
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He brightens at the further description: "Ah, that does explain the abundance of energy I sensed!"
He offers a hand to shake, and though it's clad in a golden gauntlet, there's nothing Infinity about it, nor about the matching one on his other hand. "I am Azwel." He's gotten used to people in this Nexus not having heard of him, so he leaves it at that.
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And he does eye that gauntlet warily, but only for a moment. The fact that there's a matching one on the other hand is reassuring enough. Besides, he's pretty sure he'd have noticed before now if Thanos was around. Because he would be dead.
"Charmed to meet you, Azwel. How kind of you to join us!" He shakes hands without any evident fear of having his vulnerable fingers crunched by metal.
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"We're doing a poll! Perhaps you'd like to help?" Yes. A poll, totally. That's absolutely what they're doing.
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Don't answer that.
"Certainly," Azwel replies. "What's the question?"
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"We're wondering how many Nexus-goers can tie a cherry stem into a knot using only their mouths?"
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He reaches out and picks up another cherry (Is that a golden gauntlet he's wearing? Well, yes, but it matches the one on his other hand and neither are nearly so... jewel-festooned) and pops it in his mouth.
There's a moment or two of chewing and a thoughtful expression. Then he spits out the tied stem with a raised eyebrow.
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Loki settles back to watch the man work, gaze noting the gauntlets, wondering if they were just armor or something more, but then he was displaying his success, earning a laugh and polite applause from the trickster.
"Yes, well done!"
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"Thank you, thank you," Azwel grins. "So what have your data shown thus far?"
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"Mostly that so far it's only my poor twin who has been having trouble with the faulty stems. Truly a shame, hard to live up to the Silvertongue title like that, hm?" He teases from a place of love!
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