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]

He has a soft spot for his alternate, his brother (though that's better hidden), and some of his human acquaintances. What he does with that on any given day can vary. It's not impossible that he would manipulate or even lash out at the people he likes best. Depending what he needs from them, whether he can see any gain from it, and how they might react.

"I have never been a great fan of physical pain," he says. "Not even in other people. There is something undignified about the faces they make, and the sounds. It's unseemly. Grotesque. A quick, sharp death is less so. A shame yours was so messy."

That's not quite sympathy, but it's a polite concession to something near to it.

"I've had my neck broken of late, in the interest of full disclosure, but I am not convinced I actually died of it." More like he just fucking refuses to be dead, maybe. Hard to say. Gods are susceptible to will, and story, and magic.

"We are told that the afterlife is either Valhalla or Fólkvangr. Odin's hall, or Freya's, where those who died a noble death may heal and dwell and celebrate. Then there is Hel, over which my sister once claimed rule, apparently. The less noble end up there. The way it is described in stories makes it sound more tedious than horrific. Cold and dark and dull."

He shrugs. "I have visited none of these places, and do not expect to be welcomed into Valhalla under any circumstances, but as to whether there are more complicated options...well, I should hope there are. It all sounds a little black and white for my taste."