st_ratagem | [Loki and Tony] yet more talking

A quick rap on the door and a jaunty whistle, and Tony was cocking his hip against the firm surface. One second in, so far so good.

"Delivery for Mischief, first name God of." He called out. In his occupied hand was hanging a modest but ostentatious stiff bag of sultry red and gold.

"Courtesy of Stark Cave Services Unincorporated."

Even though the call had made it clear who his visitor was and the lack of slight reverb also informed Loki no armor yet, he tested the watch-spell anyway.

An eye, more stylized than realistic, opened on the door just above the actual peephole, blinked twice, then focused on Stark. When the man proved to be as expected (except for the bizarre addition of a little bag), the eye closed again and disappeared.

Then he opened the door.

Telekinetically, of course. Loki himself was nowhere near the door. Instead, he was seated cross-legged, at the foot of his staircase, seemingly intent on the bottom step.

He’d considered presenting Stark with an illusion closer to what the man no doubt expected: ostentatious Asgardian clothes, hair severely slicked back. Instead he’d recalled his near-promise to Thor that he understood the situation and let reality present itself: Midgardian clothes (black slacks, black shirt button-down but untucked), barefoot, hair tucked behind an ear on one side but no more ‘managed’ than that.

Besides, the spells of nondetection he was working on were complex enough to need most of his arcane concentration. “Have we come to the threatening part already, then?”

"Uh, actually I'm planning on welcoming you." Tony pivoted forward on at his hip through the threshold, taking stock of the room. He gave another appreciative whistle. "Look at this. And here you were, slumming it out with me. I'm flattered, really."

Striding in, Tony made his way straight for Loki--passing him right by to station himself at a little enclosure built into the stairway. He set his bag inside, tugging the sides down to reveal a fanciful wine basket. "So. How you settling in? Not in any more drawers, I'm sure."

“Your room isn’t that bad. Or it wasn’t.” Before various now-repaired acts of destruction and Loki’s decorating efforts.

When Stark passed by, Loki didn’t even twitch. Another minute or so on this anchor point, then start over in a different part of the room. “I’m a little oversized for drawers at present, true. As for settling in,” there was a slight flare of green light as a cobweb-line of spell work snapped, and Loki sighed, “it’s a process. Why are you really here?”

Edited 2018-08-17 16:43 (UTC)

"I just told you, I'm welcoming you. Would you like a drink?" Tony propped up two wine glasses on the small counter before working the cap of Cabernet Sauvignon off. It was a classic, and seemed a fitting choice for welcoming one to the US, pocket dimension or no.

"You know Dionysus? God of Wine? Or is there no overlap with dueling mythos. Now there is a guy I'd like to party with." Tony filled each glass up halfway as he spoke.

"Forgive me for assuming an ulterior motive." And Loki would go on assuming that there was one, but he lost interest in continuing to badger Stark for it. For now. "And fine, but in a minute." Repairing the break to the spell-node took careful concentration and some actual hand-gestures to guide the energies into place, where they finally snapped properly closed.

With the air of someone who'd finally licked a troublesome problem, Loki pulled a permanent marker out of nowhere and drew a vertical line on the step. Isa, rune of ice and deception - if any rune was his signature, it was that one.

The next node could wait until he was alone to concentrate again, so Loki stood up to survey Stark more carefully. "There's no overlap. Also, I suspect you wouldn't actually like ripping a bull apart with your bare hands in order to eat it raw and invite a mad god to possess your body. Call it a hunch."

"Probably not. I've already invited a god to possess my body, after all." Not waiting for Loki to finish whatever it was he was doing, Tony took his first sip. "He's not mad. Not at me, anyway."

He lowered his glass, swishing the dark red liquid about. "Decorating?"

The remark about Thor didn't even get an eyeroll, though part of him had to admit good one. Loki had, from their youth and for the most part, left his brother's 'love' affairs completely alone, for a variety of reasons. It wasn't a streak he intended to break now.

"Closer to remodeling. Or perhaps 'implementing a privacy update'." He moved close enough to retrieve the second wine glass, then backed off a few steps. A little distance seemed called for, until he worked out what was actually happening here.

"Oh, speaking of." Tony turned back towards the basket long enough to procure another item--a small, honey-toned, and plush pillow with a wire protruding from its side and neatly bound. It was roughly the size to neatly fit a standard chair.

"Housewarming gift. Well. For my cat, back when I still had one." Tony rounded around Loki, lowering it to the foot of the golden accented bed. "I modified one of the pillows in my room and installed a heating element. Felt bad that it got drafty in there so often." He turned away from it, leisurely wandering towards the mirror. "It smells like me, too. Dunno if you'd get the same sense of appreciation from that, so feel free to, I dunno, burn it."

"I appreciate the thought." Pure politeness, which would have been utterly ruined by noting that, as a frost giant, he never actually got cold. Or by noting that dwelling on how people smelled tended to be an easy road to awkward problems.

He sipped his wine and watched Stark move around the room instead of blowing up a civil conversation. Asgard's royal court was often on the rough side, but he'd had more than enough time to learn how to chat endlessly, and more than enough recent practice thanks to time spent being Odin.

"Do you, now." Tony lowered his glass to fix himself with a look, preening and fixing some stray strands of hair back into place. He was lacking his usual product, and making do with whatever offerings the souvenir shop had were lacking.

"You know what I appreciate? Not being murdered in my sleep. From you, that's like a kiss full on the mouth." He spun around on his heel, leaning back against the mirror's edge. "The remnant bodily fluids, eh, less so."

Loki sipped his wine again. "Not being murdered in your sleep is far more significant than a kiss anywhere. Those are generally entirely meaning-free." He'd learned a long time ago that it was better to keep things that way. "But I've nothing against you, Stark. I'd neither gain nor lose by killing you, so there's no point."

"Oof. Some biting cynicism from the Half-Blood Prince." Tony pressed a hand to his heart, pretending to wash the sour taste down with more wine.

"Yeah, though, I figured as much. You're a lot of things, but you're not an idiot. If there was any benefit to getting me out of the way, you'd have done it by now. The cat thing's a bit of a mystery. Amusement? That makes the most sense. Aside from my measurements, can't imagine what practical intel you got."

“Good.” If Stark couldn’t imagine the usefulness, Loki wasn’t going to help with that. Similarly, he had no idea what ‘half blood prince’ was supposed to mean, so he ignored it.

"Or maybe it has to do with that big bro of yours and that's code for 'I don't wanna talk about it.' Fair enough." Tony approached the nook that stashed the wine, clinking his glass against Loki's as he passed. "Cheers, by the way."

After giving himself a few inches of refill, Tony headed left to approach the bottom of the staircase. "So, you gonna show me the upstairs portion? Do not tell me you've got a balcony."

“All right. I won’t tell you.” Instead, Loki gestured with his wineglass in the direction of the sliding glass door. “Mind the mark on the bottom step, if you’re going up. The spell isn’t completely anchored, and you wouldn’t enjoy it unwinding on you.”

It was, on one level, an honest warning, mostly given because Loki didn’t actually want to start from the beginning. On another level, he wanted to see if Tony Stark was contrary enough to do something he’d been warned against just for spite.

True to form, Tony strode right up to the very step and stared right at it.

"So, what would happen if I just...?" He lifted his knee into the air, hovering the tip of his shoe over the unassuming bit of blue carpet, balancing just so and taking another leisurely sip of wine.

“Hmmm.” Loki finished his wine, then moved to pour another glass. Most likely the concealment spell would unwind on Stark and hide him from all perception, three points out of eight being more than enough to go beyond concealment from scrying on a human. Buuuuut...

Realistically, he didn’t actually know what would happen. Disrupted spells could be erratic, partially-complete ones even more so, and who knew if the Inn itself would affect the blowback? “I’d have to redo an hour or three of work, at least.”

If Stark wanted to play, they would play.

"That'd kind of be poetic justice for the scratch marks on my notes and design work, wouldn't it?" Tony brought his leg up and down by inches repeatedly before planting his raised foot back on the floor and walking away.

Approaching the second floor from a clearer vantage point, he activated his armored foot pieces and shot up via the repulsors on his soles. "Whoa-ho! An actual balcony? I took these things for granted." He exclaimed, maneuvering over the carved railing to land on the other side of the raised flooring.

Loki used the stairs to go up, avoiding his Isa mark easily. (That was, in fact, what it was there for.) Mostly, he wanted to keep an eye on Stark, but also it was polite to keep guests company. Or so he remembered from long-ago etiquette lessons he'd often ignored even at the time.

"I was trying to draw your attention to the number four without also drawing your attention to the existence of my functioning brain." Loki paused, then added, "Partly, anyway. At least some of the time I was trying to be annoying."

Tony cast a genuinely intrigued glance upon Loki as he arrived to the top floor after him. Maybe it was the way Loki had set it, but he momentarily forgot his simmering contempt at the mention of the number.

"And what about it?"

Loki considered, then took a step closer. He still maintained at least a foot of open space between them, but he wasn't just standing and observing. "You've been treating the borders of this place as a purely technological problem, solvable by engineering." Before the man could read in any implied insult, he raised his free hand. "It's understandable. Your specialty and all that."

He took a sip of wine. "My specialty is magic, and I see an at least partially arcane problem, potentially solvable by magic. The border is four hours out rather than a set distance, some other dimension - I don't recall which - is four miles, and so on. Admittedly at a certain level the difference between technology and magic is minimal at best, but the repetition of fours seems significant. In my view."

It was tempting to brush Loki off.

Really tempting.

The thought that Loki was preying on his overarching motivation towards some sinister end crossed Tony's mind.

Following that was a sobering acknowledgement that he wasn't exactly rich on leads, neither of them had a goddamn thing to gain from sabotage and that Loki was still no fool. It ultimately won out.

"Done anything with all that? Those observations." Tony cast a scrutinizing look upon the trickster before turning towards the balcony proper. Some fresh air would help him think.

"I was limited as a kitten and opted not to risk being seen not as one any more than I had to." Loki shrugged and stepped outside as well. Now, he didn't just maintain distance, he kept his free hand behind his back.

The conversation seemed to finally be reaching a point, so risking misinterpretation was a bad move overall. And him making any move at all towards Stark with empty space before them invited misinterpretation. Or correct interpretation, depending on how the conversation actually continued. "And now I need to secure this," a nod back to the room, "before I actually do anything. So no, not yet."

"Planning on anything?" Direct was best, no matter who Tony was dealing with. Keeping his back turned as if in invitation (or challenge), he leaned out over the railing to behold the sight. The Madonna Inn was far from tall, but it was a decent vantage point of the horizon.

Seeing it again in broad daylight, it sunk in how truly isolated the building was. Nothing but trees, dirt, and rock for miles. It made gooseflesh rise on the back of Tony's neck.

"Confirm the four hours, see if there's any gap. Go out to three hours fifty-six minutes and see if the border contracts as time passes, figure out how the clock stops and starts." Did it, for example, care if you went out to three hours and fifty-six minutes, waited for fifteen, and then moved forward again? Did it return you on the first step or after four minutes. "I'd test the 'ceiling' but I can't fly without being a bird, and birds are worse than cats for serious spellwork."

Admitting any limitation to Stark was a calculated risk. Most likely the man already know Loki couldn't fly independently, but if he didn't it was handing him some useful tactical knowledge. The slight illusion of openness, however, might pay dividends down the road. "In my experience, there are always holes and folds in borders. Some aren't exploitable," the Isle of Silence was hell for that - holes everywhere, leading nowhere but back where you started in silence so deep it suppressed the other senses too, "others are. It's a matter of finding them."

Listening to the Asgardian speak, Tony was silent while his mind was busy at work taking notes. He had come up with a few methods of testing the barrier himself, but none had been enacted in a manner that was both quantifiable AND up to his own rigorous standards. Adding to that, having Loki be the one to present for show-and-tell wasn't a bad place to be. Fair was fair after the man role-played an animal and gotten some uncomfortably intimate insights at Tony and his physical and mental space.

"It's all conjecture at this point. Yours, mine, everything." He turned, leaning his hip against the wood. "I'm not ashamed of admitting it. I'm also not ashamed of admitting I'm ready to do some really weird shit to get where I want to be."

If nothing else, this visit had proved them both capable of being more or less civil to each other, and Stark capable of avoiding obvious traps. All in all, that was likely a better state of affairs than even Thor the endless optimist could expect. But Stark's statement sounded like an opening for some new negotiation. Perhaps. Or something else.

What was it, then? "I have no shame, full stop."

"Then maybe you'll understand where I'm coming from." Tony pushed off the railing, taking slow, measured steps in an arc with Loki at its center.

"You do things one way all your life, right? Then, little by little, you keep hitting a wall...What's a guy to do in that situation?"

Historically speaking, set your entire life on fire, laugh hysterically while everything burns (well, freezes technically), try to kill yourself, get 'rescued' by a Mad Titan and agree to 1) live and 2) lead an alien army to set fire to Earth because the Titan wants a glowing rock and can't be assed to get it himself, but that's fine because you're still kind of in the mood to destroy everything. Then go to prison, not be told about the death of your (adoptive) mother until well after her funeral....

That's enough. Loki smiled, only a little tightly and bitterness well-hidden. It might well pass for something like fond reminiscence. "Something else, clearly."

"Right." Tony gestured at the air with his glass, continuing his orbit around Loki's still form. "Something else. A 180-degree rotation, even." He stopped between the taller figure and the balcony doors, on the opposite end of where he started.

"Let's say you're...me." Coy hypotheticals seemed appropriate for someone who wasn't Tony Stark. "Let's say you get stripped of damn near everything you have. Walls close in, no way out. But then, hey, turns out there are a few familiar bones the universe threw you. And, because you're me, you get kind of attached. Hope I haven't lost you."

Tony turned to face Loki in full, keeping on with his rapid-fire, offhand monologue. "And because you're me, you make dumb decisions. Lots of them. Still with me?"

"It's not overly complicated so far. Do continue." Loki sincerely doubted that Stark actually wanted him to pursue the 'pretend you're me', so he declined to do that.

"Decisions that, honestly, feel like the right things to do at the time. Towards some practical end, yeah, because if you're me you're a rationalist. Then you realize that you're lying to yourself, and the whole reason was because you really, honestly, just cannot help yourself because of how damn good they would make you feel."

Tony was unblinking as he held Loki's gaze, taking a moment to fill his lungs and his lips with a sip of wine. "Like hunting down and murdering the man who waged genocide on your people and stamped a giant, lingering, black mark on your psyche."

Loki tilted his head. While he was well aware that Stark was talking about wanting to kill him, it also seemed applicable to Loki's own feelings about Odin.

And, entertaining as it was to have stripped everything from Odin, cast him to Midgard, and systematically corrupted and rotted his precious Nine Realms while wearing his face... it honestly hadn't answered what he'd really wanted, whatever that was at this point. Likely nothing would. Loki sipped his wine, outwardly completely calm.

This was finally getting to the point. And really, if he'd been asked to guess, this would have been what he guessed. "Have fun trying, Stark."

"Settle down there, Tommy Wiseau." Tony breached Loki's bubble to give him a casual pat on the shoulder before continuing on his steady rotation.

"Remember, you're me. You know you're a flailing, emotional diva no matter how cool you make yourself look. But even we know there are a few precious things we can't afford to lose. Such as...pride. Power." By the point Tony reached his original position against the railing, he reassumed his place. He took a deep breath of the fresh air. "People."

Even if he wasn't naming names, Tony had no doubt Loki knew exactly to whom he was referring. "That last one--comes before all other points on the trifecta. I cling to the other two, I lose the third. So I had to ask myself, what is the exact opposite thing I could do when the little devil on my shoulder's telling me to suit up? Show up with a basket of wine in the welcome wagon, of course."

Loki twitched away from the touch even before it was over. Ordinarily it was a reaction he would have controlled, but if he'd been interested in appearances, he wouldn't have stayed real (and barefoot) the entire time. It wasn't fear, though it might be read as such; he simply preferred not to be touched at times.

Everything came back to Thor, always, didn't it? It didn't sting quite the same way as it once had, but he didn't care to examine that at the moment. "And so?"

"And so here I am." Tony raised his arms, opening himself up wide. "Bono malum superate. Or, in this case, fermented grapes."

Overcome evil with good. Ah. Yes, that sounded about right for people who ended up in his brother's orbit.

Whether or not Stark believed it, they were agreed on one thing at the moment: Thor was more important than any petty (or not-so-petty) feud they pursued or didn't. "Then have fun with that, Stark."

"Heh." Tony tilted his head all the way back to drink down the last remnants of the dark red liquid.

"This is the part where I threaten you for real, I'm pretty sure. How I, I dunno, explain that I'm a far, far less forgiving individual than Thor or how if you touch a hair on any single resident's head, I'll reduce you to street pizza. I'll spare you."

Giving his arc reactor a firm pat, Tony was enveloped by his armor instantaneously. With his mechanical hand, he set the glass down to the railing at his side. "All I have say is that I would love for you to prove me wrong about you. Happy stay. Keep the wine. Ciao." Always one to make a flashy exit, Iron Man soared off into the skies, leaving behind a scene as unvaporized as he had found it.

[Loki and Tony] yet more talking

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