“Better,” Abner agrees. He just barely nods his head, as if afraid any movement might ruin all of Loki’s efforts. Abner is very used to being told he has ruined everything, no matter how hard he has tried.

“A criminal,” he murmurs with a grimace. Misfit isn’t a strong enough word for what Abner is. Freak fits better. Failure. Abomination too. He watches the magic do its…well, magic.

“It’s…pretty,” Abner admits. He hopes that isn’t the wrong word, but he can’t think of another. Hopefully it won’t somehow insult the other man.

“You think I have…rage in me?” He asks, curiously. It’s not something Abner has ever considered. He has a black hole inside him; empty and gnawing and hopeless. And the virus, of course. That may be angry, being trapped in this dimension in such a useless creature.

“I was just going home,” he explains. “I don’t drive.”