Loki (
complicatedliar) wrote in
revivalproject2019-09-01 04:02 pm
Message in a Bottle
Who: Loki and... you?
What: Getting the lay of the land
When: 5-6 days after people started arriving
Where: Proximal to the fountain, areas nearby
Warnings: None at this time; will update if necessary
It's a sad commentary on Loki's life that this is not the first, second, or even hundredth time he's awoken in a place with no idea where he is or notion how he got there. Until the last few decades, such awakenings had normally involved Thor, Sif, Iofast, and a lot of mead. In more recent times, it had gotten distressingly less about being tricked into drinking too much and more about being kidnapped, or having his mind overtaken by something, or worse.
His first reaction on opening his eyes is to feel frantically at the back of his neck as he sorts things through. No port. And here is his magic, still hot in his blood. And this is most definitely no ruined Proles, despite any outward similarities; the lack of dome makes that abundantly clear even before he gets a good look at the buildings.
And then there's that glowing sphere...
He finds himself up on his feet and touching the thing before he's processed that it might be a bad idea, and that takes his estimate of the situation from one of concern to near-emergency. Even as information floods his brain, unasked for and unwelcome, he's tearing himself away from the thing.
No matter how angry he is, this at least answers a few questions. He has to admit that in the privacy of his own head, even if he hates it. Loki retreats to the top of one of the nearby ruined buildings, hiding in an illusion, in order to brood.
He isn't the only one here. He hears the voices of others, even observes a few from afar. But he has no way of knowing how friendly they might be. Are there others from home about? Others from Proles? He can hardly dare hope. But standing in the square and shouting Hello is most certainly not his style. And this place appears to lack the convenient internet of Earth or network of Proles, which had made anonymously testing the waters much safer. His bread and butter is paranoia, and nothing that's happened to him in recent years has done anything but strengthen that feeling.
So, best to leave a calling card and see who might pick it up.
He waits until the square is deserted and returns to the fountain. It seems the best source of fresh water, so it will no doubt be visited often by whomever is around. After some consideration, he's decided that the assumption that most of the people he's observed are some format of human seems fair, so that's the best language to address his message in.
Using a bit of magic, he leave the following emblazoned on one edge of the fountain:
~ LINGORMR
Then he retreats back to his observational post to see what happens, again cloaked and hidden. The magical effect of it is obvious to anyone who has the skill; it would do well for him to see what compatriots--or enemies--he might have around.
[ooc note: the equation is the time-dependent, one-dimensional version of Schrödinger's equation.]
What: Getting the lay of the land
When: 5-6 days after people started arriving
Where: Proximal to the fountain, areas nearby
Warnings: None at this time; will update if necessary
It's a sad commentary on Loki's life that this is not the first, second, or even hundredth time he's awoken in a place with no idea where he is or notion how he got there. Until the last few decades, such awakenings had normally involved Thor, Sif, Iofast, and a lot of mead. In more recent times, it had gotten distressingly less about being tricked into drinking too much and more about being kidnapped, or having his mind overtaken by something, or worse.
His first reaction on opening his eyes is to feel frantically at the back of his neck as he sorts things through. No port. And here is his magic, still hot in his blood. And this is most definitely no ruined Proles, despite any outward similarities; the lack of dome makes that abundantly clear even before he gets a good look at the buildings.
And then there's that glowing sphere...
He finds himself up on his feet and touching the thing before he's processed that it might be a bad idea, and that takes his estimate of the situation from one of concern to near-emergency. Even as information floods his brain, unasked for and unwelcome, he's tearing himself away from the thing.
No matter how angry he is, this at least answers a few questions. He has to admit that in the privacy of his own head, even if he hates it. Loki retreats to the top of one of the nearby ruined buildings, hiding in an illusion, in order to brood.
He isn't the only one here. He hears the voices of others, even observes a few from afar. But he has no way of knowing how friendly they might be. Are there others from home about? Others from Proles? He can hardly dare hope. But standing in the square and shouting Hello is most certainly not his style. And this place appears to lack the convenient internet of Earth or network of Proles, which had made anonymously testing the waters much safer. His bread and butter is paranoia, and nothing that's happened to him in recent years has done anything but strengthen that feeling.
So, best to leave a calling card and see who might pick it up.
He waits until the square is deserted and returns to the fountain. It seems the best source of fresh water, so it will no doubt be visited often by whomever is around. After some consideration, he's decided that the assumption that most of the people he's observed are some format of human seems fair, so that's the best language to address his message in.
Using a bit of magic, he leave the following emblazoned on one edge of the fountain:
~ LINGORMRThen he retreats back to his observational post to see what happens, again cloaked and hidden. The magical effect of it is obvious to anyone who has the skill; it would do well for him to see what compatriots--or enemies--he might have around.
[ooc note: the equation is the time-dependent, one-dimensional version of Schrödinger's equation.]

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And yet.
It is very likely it's not his Loki, he has to admit that much. (The 'goat-killer', his Loki had called the other version.) But there's an easy enough way to figure that out. He digs out a charcoal stick from his pocket, because that's the best they've got at the moment for writing supplies, and makes a quick sketch of a tabby cat with Euclid's exact markings next to the equation, followed by the Greek letter delta.
And then he refills his jug and backs off to the shadow of the nearest building, not sure if there will be an instant response.
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And he certainly does seem to be Delta. The little drawing of the kitten and the Greek letter confirm it. By the time Delta's retreating, Loki's already waiting in that shadow.
The illusion he's used to render himself invisible shreds away as he says, "Hello, elskede."
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Hell, knowing Loki, this could still be an illusion.
But he doesn't care. Delta gasps in delight and rushes forward to grab Loki in a tight embrace. It's him. He's here. The relief Delta feels is almost overwhelming, and it takes him a long moment before he can say anything.
Even so, he notices one obvious difference, and he comments on it as soon as he's done squeezing Loki.
"You do not have your ports."
Delta, very clearly, still does. He also still has his hair braided in Asgardian fashion to mark him as a member of Loki's household and is wearing the silver dragon bracelet given to him as a gift.
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"Nay. I awoke back in Asgard mercifully back to my former physical state," he says. "With all the benefits that entails."
Like, you know, magic. "Did you mark that I was missing?"
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The square is deserted now, or so it seems. Everyone has something to do to keep themselves occupied, and she's managed to slip away to find some time for herself. Practical as her bending is, Katara knows that she has to keep up with her skills, and that means running through the drills that Master Pakku taught her at the North Pole. Given the time, Katara would happily work on honing her skills for hours every day, but time is a luxury here so she ekes out what she can.
She notices the numbers on the fountain, but since she can't make heads or tails of them, she chooses instead to focus on her katas. With a smooth gesture, a stream of water rises up from the fountain like a serpent, and she pulls and pushes until the water is looping and curling through the air around her.
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He silently invites himself back down to the ground and takes a seat where he won't distract the young... (human? she certainly looks human, but appearances can be decieving)... person. After a bit, his illusion that has kept him invisible drifts away. He wouldn't mind speaking to this person, he decides. But he can wait until she's done with her practice.
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She does drop the water she's been bending back into the fountain, but with a flourish of her hands that sends it arcing back up in an impressive wave and freezing solid into a beautiful, glittering spire.
"How long have you been sitting there?" she asks, observing the man curiously.
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Which is actually sincere. It had been interesting to observe.
Still regarding the young woman, he rests one finger lightly against his cheek. "I've not seen magic of that sort before."
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Whatever this equation actually means is completely lost on Billy, but feel of it is all Loki, and he finds himself looking around as though expecting to see him lurking. The look on his face certainly suggests someone who's familiar with the God of Mischief, a cautious, perhaps slightly annoyed, yet hopeful look. All versions of him tend to inspire complicated feelings.
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Well, a bit of a flashy bastard.
Loki spreads out his hands, as if to say, Well?
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"...Bit flashy," he notes, floating up to put them on something of a more level playing field, though he keeps some distance between them. "Have you been hiding out since we arrived?"
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I feel like apologizing in advance for Clint
He passes by the fountain, intending to grab some water before continuing on his way, but that's before he notices the equation inscribed on its surface. Nothing immediately jumps out at him as to its significance, because quantum mechanics is not something he would ever claim to understand. The signature that follows it, if that's what it is, also means nothing to Clint, but someone obviously took the time to emblazon this on the fountain.
And what's more, it appears too new to have been a remnant of whoever inhabited the planet before. Still, with no immediate brain waves coming to him, Clint decides it's not relevant to him personally, even if it is something worth filing away in case that changes.
So, for the moment, he contents himself with scooping up some water with his hands while keeping one eye on his surroundings. It could be some lingering paranoia, but he reasons that if someone wanted to take him by surprise, this would be a good place to do it.
never apologize
Complicated really isn't the right word. What was that phrase Clint Barton--at least the one he'd known, and unwittingly betrayed, and broken, and--used once? Right. A total ratfuck disaster.
Being stolen onto a strange planet is bad enough. Being confronted with Clint Barton, not even counting trying to figure out if this one is his, is a horror show. And which would be worse--his or not his? He has no idea and has never tested it. Is it worse to be broken by an enemy or destroyed by a friend? In his own experience, definitely the latter.
If Loki was truly as smart as he knew himself to be, this is the moment he'd walk away. But he's always been a little more self-destructive than anything else, and he doesn't have anyone here yet to save him his own desire to poke at hot, red bruises or prod wounded animals with sticks.
He does, at least, have the presence of mind to not take his actual body down into actual range of whatever stabbing implements Clint might have on hand. He sends an illusion instead, something that appears to walk innocuously out of a doorway rather than doing his normal preferred trick of simply appearing in a startling fashion.
The image of Loki pauses a healthy distance away and says in a tone of extreme caution laced with just a hint of hope, "Barton?"
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It hasn't even occurred to him that this might not be the same Loki who brainwashed him into acting on his every whim, but unfortunately, it'll take some doing for Clint to ever look favorably on the Asgardian.
Pausing mid-drink, Clint looks up when he hears someone addressing him. The beginnings of a smile all but falls off his face when he sees the illusion that to his eyes, looks all too real. A long time ago, he used to have nightmares about confronting Loki and putting an arrow into his eye socket, but as time went by, those nightmares faded and were replaced by other things.
Still, seeing Loki again brings all those old memories right back to the forefront of his mind, and he can't stop himself from glaring daggers at the one he thinks wronged him back then. "What do you want?"
He can't even ask what he's doing here, because logically, he's there for the same reason Clint is: to help fix this broken planet. But fixing things and Loki don't belong in the same sentence, not to Clint.
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Bugger. He'll blame this on being so out of sorts.
The image of Loki spreads his hands--see, no weapons immediately present. "Simply to say hello. You look well, and that gladdens my heart."
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She does make a rather obvious sight with a tiny fairy dragon perched on her shoulder and several crude containers floating beside her suspended by wisps of scarlet power.
The equation is new...and it might as well be written in an alien language. Whatever it means, it's lost on her. But when Wanda trails a finger over it she senses something familiar. Maybe this is just what Asgardian magic feels like or maybe...maybe her friend was brought here too. Or another version of him who might not be so friendly. Regardless, she'll have to be careful.
Wanda spares a glance over her shoulder like she half-expects something to appear, but she's not going to stand here stressing about it. She has a job to do, after all, and after a sigh she starts directing the containers to dip into the fountain,
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(Really, is it his fault he's been so busy and that humans are in a terrible rush about everything? Short-lived people.)
But this takes him to the calculation he became very familiar with during his time at Sanctum. The chance of someone from Midgard greeting him happily are generally very low. But unlike in Sanctum, here he doesn't have the useful anonymity of the network to feel things out first. It's very annoying.
He sends an illusion of himself; he's not entirely certain how Wanda's powers work, so it'll also tell him if that trick will work on her. The illusion appears on the opposite side of the fountain from her, a perfect image of Loki that tilts his head curiously as he looks at her.
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Has he found some way to mask his presence from her? She's never encountered one of his illusions before; he must have had little reason to use them on the Fleet. Wanda glances around the square again, doesn't immediately see anything, and decides the easiest path is just to address the Loki in front of her. She's not even going to try reaching out to probe - she knows him well enough to know that would be a violation. "It's just me, Loki. I remember you."
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Instead of a person, though, he sees an...equation? When had that gotten here?
Steve stoops to look at it more closely but nothing about it seems to ring any bells. He wasn't really a math whiz nor did he recognize the signature. Still, there was something about it that seems familiar, somehow. Steve runs his fingertips over it, thinking, before standing to look around.
Was the carver still here?
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On the other hand, he's also had remarkably good luck with those who know him but not really him understanding the basic concept that he's a different person.
And who knows. This once, maybe it will be someone who knows him, from his own universe. It hasn't happened yet, and it'd probably be best if it didn't for a myriad of reasons, but selfishly he does like the thought of it.
Steve, however, is someone he's not particularly interested in getting in a fistfight with either, at the moment, so rather than go down there himself, he manifests an illusion. The image of him appears to one side, as if having just stepped out of invisibility, and pauses, hands relaxed at his sides. "Rogers," the image says.
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Steve doesn't believe his eyes. It's been so long since he's seen his friend that he honestly had thought that they wouldn't meet again. But here Loki is, right in front of him. Steve is too excited to comprehend the fact that, like so many others here, this might not be his Loki. Instead he just rushes forward to hug the other man.
And falls right through.
He doesn't actually faceplant but it is a close thing. Steve turns, confused for as long as it takes for him to remember Loki is able to make illusions. That's what this was: an illusion. And if Loki was using illusions on him instead of meeting him face-to-face, this probably wasn't the one who he'd been so close with. Steve straightens up and tries to look a little more composed.
"Loki," he says this time. "I...uh. Hey. Guess you are the one who left the math problem?"
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I LOST THIS TAG, I AM SO SORRY
No worries!
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Steve can be sneaky too, sometimes...
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The overgrowth is still too heavy, too dense over most of the city, and most of the other inhabitants are focused on setting up the resources needed for their own survival before they go around seeing what else is there. She's okay with that, for the most part, even if part of her is just itching to just blast through the thick forest and call it a day.
She touches down on a nearby building to rest, but something snags at her feet and she nearly trips on an otherwise perfect landing.
Yeah, that's weird. She's been on this roof before. Nothing should be tripping her up here. Frustrated and curious, she peers at the space, but it's empty, which just warrants further physical investigation, as she crouches down to look at the surface.
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Though one would think, if she had any sense of magic around her, she wouldn't have run into him in the first place.
At any rate, he's quickly scrambled back, habitually silent, to a slightly different area of the roof while he sorts himself out. All of his bits are still in place. Hair slightly mussed. No damage done, and no one saw anything, which is far more important. So he arranges himself on the roof edge so he looks entirely casual and dismisses the invisibility. "Did you lose something?"
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Well. This is unexpected.
"Yeah, about half the stuff I had on me before I got here," Carol says, even though she knows it isn't what he's talking about at all. "So what are you doing up here? Spying on people?"
If she knows him, she doesn't give any indication of the fact.
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