If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks...

[coldsong]

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 for mischief 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.

Comments

[coldsong]

"Safesearch doesn't sound like any fun at all," he says, and drags the end of his cape over the both of them so they're cocooned in it from the shoulders down.

"You know, it's absurd how much I like you, given how much I loathe myself." He would never say that if he wasn't drunk.

[magpiemythos]

"Like I said, it's only at first. You'll know when you're ready to take it off." It's moments like this that he really regrets not having a cloak, given how nice a warm little cocoon one can make from them. But his twin seemed to have the right idea and he let out a pleased little hum, snugging in happily.

"Well good thing I like you enough for two of us then, hm?" Loki knows that feeling all too well, though with how he was wound up in his twin's cloak he can only press a kiss to his chin instead of his cheek or forehead.

[coldsong]

"Like training wheels?" He chuckles softly. "I'll keep it in mind."

Loki often prefers a longcoat to an actual cloak. It's a little more practical for motion, but it just doesn't have quite the same dramatic flair, does it? And it also can't be used so neatly as a blanket.

"Do you, now?" He takes a deep breath, sighing at the kiss. "If oblivion does not work out for you, back home, keep me in mind, then. I'd take you back."

It's not that simple; they both know that. But it's worth saying, even if it can't possibly happen.