That's good news for breathing.
Independent Female John Watson from BBC Sherlock . Mun is of age [ home ] and very friendly. Please read the rules and about page before you [ ask ] interact. Skype available upon request, as well as AIM. Timezone [ rules ] is Central USA. This is a multiship and multiverse blog. Please be resepectful. [ tags ]
He knew being frightened of Loki was the sort of response a smart god-fearing man should have, but the diviner could do nothing but feel a bit sad when he watched the colors of the god’s energy turn black and dark blue. There were fluctuations of other colors trying so hard to blossom but were constantly swallowed by the darker shades of sorrow and fear of the future and an unforgiving nature. "Certainly," he dipped his head in a respectful way and began to clean up the cards.
"Can I say something, Lord of Tricks, without worrying for the loss of my head in saying it?”
Loki looked up for a moment, gazing at Astrophel and wondering what else could he have to say to him. He paused for a good half a minute before nodding his head. He wouldn't cut off the head of the man who so graciously revealed his fate to him. His choices. Which, they were still both so daunting. What Aster said, with the stories, with the different fates, it was... intriguing. Did he mean that if he decided not to go after this fate, it wouldn't mean that he would have to end the world himself later on? Loki's toes curled in his boots. "Go ahead."
"No, as with anything there is always room for change. In fact, that you suppose you can choose is making for yourself a new path, carved by your desire. Whether or not you decide to take it is up to you. Just because you are told one story over and over does not mean the others cease to exist.” He begins to turn over new cards with Loki’s question kept in mind. "Ten of pentacles, family. Knight of wands.. hm, passion, and-” he paused when turning over the last card and shook his head, amused. "Four of swords. Rest. You came asking for my opinion, so I ask the cards and they give you options. Maybe it’s time to let something go. Let a new story play out.”
He looked at Aster with some confliction in his eyes, confused to what he was saying. Ragnarok had to come. But... the way he was saying it, was that... there were others that could make it happen as well. He looked down at the cards and watched as they flipped over. Family. Passion. Rest. Rest sounded so good right now. He hadn't slept in days, scared that the nightmares would come to haunt him again, scared that the nightmares would find him and strangle him in his sleep. He closed his eyes. The cards were telling him to give it up. He didn't know what to do, but he just nodded his head and licked his lips slowly. "Okay," he said finally. "Thank you, Aster."
Despite the threat that loomed over him with those words, the man smiled slow and shrugged. "Tell that to the three who weave your fate,” he said.
The reveal took only minutes. One card at a time was flipped over from left to right. With the major there was the star, justice, and judgement. With the minor the nine of swords, six of cups, and two of swords. They were given their due consideration for a moment and then a glance upward had the mortal tapping first the judgement card. "This states the obvious, that cycles end and begin again often, all the time, and in both small and large ways. But this star is one of hope. There is always hope as there is always a new beginning and,” he pushed the justice card forward, “it may bode well for you or not depending on your actions.” The other three of the minor were studied longer. Their positions, whether upside down or not, signified small differences that made or broke a meaning. "Two of swords, upright, you have a choice. Six of cups, upside down, influence from your past, perhaps your childhood? And the nine of swords indicates a plague of nightmares that you let influence you more than they should.”
Loki grit his teeth and looked down at the cards with almost a rage starting in his eyes. He breathed for a moment before calming down. "I have no choice. Any influence from my childhood leaves me with no choice: I have to..." he stopped himself, looking up at Aster and tightening his lips into a line.
"This says enough. The cards are always right." He was going to ask if Aster was curious to know about what the cards meant; Loki paused before leaning forward and touching the nine of swords with his index finger. "Another question, seer. What will happen if I give it all up, if I do decide that I have a choice."
"Aster, if you’d like, though plenty have called me Doc as well,” he shrugged and seperated the deck with the question that had been posed heavy on his mind. This would transfer the energy into the cards and give them a story that hopefully answered Loki’s desires.
For a god there was no need to be to simple, either. Astrophel went for a full card reading but handed the deck to the god first. “Shuffle this however you see fit, focusing on the question. When you feel ready lay out one care at a time in rows of three. Keep these two parts separate though, so two spreads side by side.”
"Can I ask if you went to any others for answers before me?”
How could this man trust him not to shuffle the cards in his favor? Loki could, and would, if he wasn't so desperate for answers. His fear over anything conquered him, and so he took the deck and felt its energy flow into him. He sighed and wrapped his fingers around the deck, shuffling in a blur for a good five minutes before he laid out six cards, three on the left side of the table and three on the right. "I haven't gone to anyone else, Aster. Just you. I'm trusting you with some of my most intimate moments, here. Don't fuck anything up."
He was itching to get this over with. Loki just wanted it done.
Ah, the trick of it all, isn’t it? Love myself. The truth is that I don’t know what others see, but what others see when they look at me is not what I see when I look at me. You seem to take my mental state so personally. Why?
... because I can relate to it. While in the void, I learned that I am nothing more than a vassal for something... much bigger than you or I. Ragnarok. Power and wealth means nothing to this greater being, this thing that is the end and the beginning. There are only so many moments in a lifetime, and you have to cherish each one, lest it be worthless in the end. I found myself worthless while in the void. I was doing nothing to create this being to have any purpose, any life form beyond what it already had through the many cycles that it had already gone through. I don't know if I was the first or the last or one of many different Lokis that had gone through this mental transformation before, but it seems that you are not one that has gone through it yet. What I'm trying to say is, you're part of something much, much bigger than this: the end of the world is coming, and it's coming much faster that you would anticipate. Any moment could be your last, and yet you sit there doing nothing, the feeling of worthlessness and being unloved overwhelming in power against you. Know that the end of the world leaves no one behind. It leaves nothing but a shell of what you are now. Consciousness gone. Everything disappearing forever. Valhalla waits for no one. Live in a constant state of courage, not fear, though. You have literally nothing to lose.
He bit his tongue. Best not apologize but rather better to drop it all together. Astrophel drew his hand back from the dancing flames of sandalwood and vanilla candles. A question better asked of the norns, but did they care enough to answer it? Better yet, did Astrophel have enough ability to answer it himself? For a moment, he doubted.
"A question like that may have us sitting around this table for a very long time. We’ll consult the cards first. Pick your pack,” he reached under the table where a small drawer built into it held tools needed for his readings. Three packs were drawn out and set before the god. Each pack looked well worn and had their own designs. One was Druidic, another French and the last seemed more aligned to Germanic Paganism.
The packs were all relatively worn and it gave Loki a little bit of comfort, but he just picked randomly, out of the instinct of his gut. The Germans were toads with their throaty language, and Druids Loki had never had luck with, so his eyes landed on the French deck. Ah, yes, the French. He had once had a French lover in the 1490s or so, a beautiful young lady by the name of Anne. Her hair was blonde and her eyes were a stormy grey color, and it reminded him of his brother, at that time, a relatively close subject to his heart, and maybe that was the reason he captured his heart, playing footsie with her under her Father's table, watching as she grew old, watching as she had her first child with another man, how he escorted her down into her dreary coffin. Loki pointed to the French deck. He looked back at Astrophel. "What can I call you, then? Surely Doctor or Montieu will not do, and Astrophel is a name I'd rather not pronounce every time."
I wish I felt loved.
It's pointless to say this to myself, but if you wish to feel loved, then love yourself. Relish in the beauty that you have always had, relish in the softness of your skin and the feeling of the bed sheets rolling around you at night. Be vain. Be passionate about your vanity. Be Loki, damn you, and stop sulking.
Of course a trickster would say as much, Astrophel should have expected it. In fact when those words happened he sighed so heavily that his shoulders slumped, as if the very notion of names for a god of mischief exhausted him. The illusion fell away smoothly but that too was expected. As he sat he wondered as to what truth had been behind the younger face. Was that from days long gone? Many cycles ago? A question he kept to himself as he began to light candles with just the tips of his fingers over the wicks.
"Now this must be dire, a god coming to a mortal with questions? Usually it is the other way around. I hope I have done nothing recently to offend your family,” Friggason? Something was different, that was not like the name he came to expect to be coupled with Loki.
What family was left for him to piss off? Loki ignored the question and leaned forward. "This comes to no surprise that you would be so snarky. Seers usually are, you know. But that is not my business with you, nor my.. family's." It seemed like he struggled to say that he had a family at all.
Loki took a moment to let the suspense fill the air, and then he breathed. "I know how the War will end. Ragnarok will come the same as it always does, but I want to know: where does humanity stand this time? Where will I stand among them?"
He afforded the gods as much respect as he could. If they did not mess with him then like any other person they deserved the same sort of treatment, in his opinion. It was only when an accord was necessary that he tried to call upon them, or when he needed help with one of their more annoying subjects. So, he looked upon this one with about as much impassiveness as he would anyone else, meaning he didn’t appear to be grinning like a fool. It just wasn’t his way. He did, however, gesture toward a back hall beside the main counter and glanced over toward a young man who was dusting off books.
"Henry, watch the front for me. Right this way. We only bring out what is necessary after an initial chat about the nature of the questions, you see,” he explained as he led the god into a back room. It was large, with several thick pillows to sit on surrounding a low coffee table covered in candles in the center. "Have a seat, Mr…?"
"If I tell you my name, that would ruin the whole point of coming in anonymously and under a guise." Loki hummed for a second before he took a seat and relaxed into his natural state, his normal form. He relaxed into the cushions before looking up at Montieu. He smiled. "I prefer to be called Loki Friggason." He sat up a little before crossing his legs under him. He was only in a tunic and some linen trousers, so he wasn't any threat to Astrophel, but he could be in an instant. "Please, Doctor. Sit down. I do have some important questions to ask of you."
A god of a realm eternal was not the only one to call bull shit that day. Another held his tongue as well, for he had been in the presence of gods and fair folk before and being attuned to their particular energies was, after all, Doc Montieu’s specialty. This one was sly, much more so than most and he was reminded, at once, of his run-in with Coyote in a New Mexico flea market. It filled the man with a sort of uncomfortable buzz under his skin but he smiled kindly at the young man (old soul) that asked for the seer.
"Then you don’t have to look any further. That would be me. But serious questions with a smile like that? Makes me think it might be about love,” he leaned on the wood counter painted black, the register to his left and a glass case of athames at his right.
"I guess you could say that." Loki said with a smaller smile this time. He rolled his shoulders before looking around and letting out a little laugh. "Isn't there gonna be leading me to the back room and bringing out a crystal ball or something like that?" His eyes were sharp though, picking up the way that this man, Astrophel Montieu, was looking at him, and he knew that this seer knew what he was. He decided to keep the facade up, just in case he would have recognised his face from the television. "I would actually prefer that, some privacy." Loki blinked, his face falling.
occxlt has things to say.
What things indeed. Loki was certain there were no seuth-sayers within the New York area, but he had gone to Heimdall with his disguise of Odin cloaked over him. He had never seen the Vanir so intrigued, so happy to see his king out and about the castle since Frigga had taken her final breath. Loki easily disguised this as wanting to move on from the tragedy and begin ruling with all the kindness that Frigga would have in her heart. Heimdal knew it was Loki. Heimdal always knew it had to be Loki. But for some reason, Loki always knew that Heimdal would not hurt him, because he was the true king now. This Loki knew as a fact. The seer lived in New York, of course, and Loki was more than thrilled to see him. He walked into the little shop with the odd lamps and the even weirder trinkets and walked up to the counter with a younger face on than usual. He introduced himself as Lucas. "Hey, man, I'm just... I'm looking for the seer. I was told he was here, and... I don't know. I have some serious questions I would like to talk to him about."
She scanned the titles etched onto the bindings, eyes searching rather mindlessly. Jane wondered how many different languages were in this library, some characters she couldn’t quite comprehend their origin - but there were seven other realms she knew little to nothing about. Perhaps that could be what she searches for.
The impression of watchful eyes were imprinted on her back, more so than the all-seeing eyes that Heimdall had over the realms.
She walked to the edge of the wall of books surrounding her, and peered over, “Hello?”
Loki sneaked around a few bookshelves until he found himself behind Jane Foster, to the place where she was looking before. He 'ahem'd before crossing his arms. "Looking for anything in particular?"
This man moved more like a cat. He had a feline like elegance to his rolling shoulders and shifting body that caught Thor’s lingering gaze. When the back piece was exposed Thor leaned forward and boldly traced the runes with the pad of his index finger, the same way Loki had traced the designs on Thor’s arm. Something electric lingered there under his skin and burned hotly when he touched Loki. A half cocked smile was flashed, smug and so sure that this meeting really was something akin to tales of prophesy. How much more of a coincidence could it be? "Beautiful. Mine are just images, a few runes but- I love yours,” he drew his hand back to tuck a few long strands behind his ear before taking a heavy swig of his beer. “Want a shot, man?”
In all honesty, Loki hated hard alcohol, but in this circumstance, he would be more than willing to drink with this more than handsome fellow with the tattoos and blonde hair. Loki reached up and fiddled with his own earring, a gauge to six, spiraled in the form of a snake, and he nodded his head almost feebly. He wanted to play coy with this stranger. It felt like it was the right thing to do. He felt the electricity that Thor felt when he touched Loki's skin, and he wanted more of that. It had to be fate that brought them here, and Loki wasn't often to believe in that sort of stuff. "I'd be happy to drink with you."
